What I Learned From Exhibiting My Art

In april this year, I started renting an art studio space, to explore the extended version of the artist in me: the abstract painter.

How that came about:

I had been curious for quite some time to learn about painting techniques, colors, layering, texture and more. It felt like a different world to me - the artist that loves line and always draws in a sketchbook. During my sabbatical that I took in June 2020, I finally had time (and the headspace) for it. So I blew the dust off my brushes and grabbed the small tubes of gouache to start learning some new techniques. I was painting like I draw: from observation. I took a class and found many videos on YouTube that taught me a few tricks and that made me feel a little more confident with each sheet of paper I filled. Gouache is pretty great to use in your sketchbook, and since it was also in the middle of the pandemic (and lockdowns), I didn’t need to be concerned about limiting my tools to go on location. Everything happened at home anyway, so I spread out my stuff on the dining table.

Not being precious about what you make

Soon enough, I wanted to work bigger than my sketchbooks. We all had to stay put, so what better excuse than to safely at home explore new materials and formats? I bought some acrylic paint and big blocks of paper, and not long after, I was mounting an easel, in the middle of the living room, ready for me to play. And so I did. I found some other classes, and learned interesting techniques. Nothing great came out of my hands, but that wasn’t the point. I was a beginner and with each paint stroke, I was learning. The biggest lesson I learned is that when you paint, you never should get attached to certain bits of the painting as they will hold you down to dare and be bold. 

Just like I learned years ago not to be precious about my sketchbook pages, I am learning as a painter not to be precious about anything in the painting in any of the stages. Layer upon layer will make things better, and sometimes worse, but then you fix that by adding another layer. 

You need to learn to let go. To let go of parts that you may like but need to be covered or altered for the painting to grow, but also to let go of any expectations.

After a few weeks of painting things from observation, and learning to make expressive portraits (rather than photo-realistic), I was done with painting from reference. Maybe because it was too close to what I do in my sketchbooks: drawing life. I know how to do it with pen on paper, and I felt like the painting on canvas needed a completely different approach. 

I did very much like working in a bold and expressive way, and the endless possibilities when it comes to choosing a color palette! That’s when I found out about intuitive painting… a way to make abstract art without any expectation, without an end result in mind. It’s all about the process of finding the palette that feels just right, layering bits and pieces, creating structure and mixing media if that feels like the right thing to do. It’s all about feeling it out - intuitively. And really, it’s a bit like meditation. The process is all that is important, the rest of the world just dissolves for a while. 

It was so very liberating to be working at the other end of the art spectrum; I am so used to working in line and from observation, and now I found myself completely absorbed in the process of making abstract art.

Lucky to get an art space

In that exploratory phase, I ran into a neighbor in the hallway of our apartment building, who is an artist herself. She told me that in her art studio, one of the spaces would be available soon. Should she put me on the list? She thought I would fit well with the other ten artists renting a space there. I wasn’t even sure if that’s what I wanted, but it would take a while before the space would be available, so I had time to think about it, or rather get used to the idea of me being a practicing painting artist. 
I got on the list, it took a few months, and there I was, selected to be the new renter!

In April this year, I moved my easel, paint and brushes into my half of the big space that used to be a classroom once. The studio space made me feel free to be bold, work with bigger gestures, and throw and spatter paint onto my paintings, without worrying that it would be all over the living room floor and walls!

It may be strange to say this about myself as very much of a beginner in abstract art, but thanks to the studio space, my work took flight. I experimented and allowed myself to do anything that seemed to be ‘needed’, just following my guts. No need for a great end result. No need even to finish something that I started, although I did finish most paintings, because that’s just in my character. I also painted over a lot of the finished canvases - because I learned not to get too attached.

Last weekend we hosted open studios. All 11 artists in the studio building, we all opened our studios for anyone interested to get a peek into the artists world. The place where things are made and where the creativity flows. 
We would all exhibit during this weekend too. When renting a studio space in this building, it’s part of the deal to join the group exhibition for the open studios once a year. 

I felt a lot of resistance to exhibit my work. After all, I spend my time doing abstract painting solely for me. I enjoy the process and I don’t care for other people to see the results. It’s not meant to be for anyone but me.

The date of the open studios drew closer. Reluctantly, I started to clean up my space, and select drawings that felt exhibition-worthy. I got a few frames, and put them around my favorite paintings. What a difference a frame makes! It started to look more ‘real’, now that I curated these pieces. 

While putting my exhibition together, I started to enjoy the fact that curating my art showed me the development I had been going through the past months. With each nail I was banging into the wall to hang a painting on, I grew a little bit more into the role of exhibiting artist.

My exhibition looked pretty good if I may say so myself. Yes, I felt proud. But I also felt very vulnerable. Imposter syndrome kept creeping up. I am such a newbie, what was I even thinking, to put price tags on these exploration pieces? Oh and deciding on the prices! That is the hardest part of exhibiting! Luckily I am surrounded by experienced artists in the studio building, so I asked them for advice. Even though the height of the prices gives me sweaty palms even thinking about it, I know the paintings (and the time, energy and attention I put into them) are worth it. Never underprice your art, is one of the pieces of advice I got most, both in my research online and from other artists.

I am not good at this

Once our doors opened on Saturday morning, and people trickled in to curiously wander from room to room, There was no way back.

There I was, smiling at every visitor entering my studio, hiding those sweaty palms behind my back. In contrast with my very outgoing studio mate, I don’t feel comfortable selling my art. By that I mean the presenting myself and pitching the art. 
Sure, I could have chosen to just exhibit and not put any prices on the paintings, but of course I would love for people to want them on their wall. Then just boldly step up to people who look at my art, to tell them about the process and start a conversation… I just couldn’t. I am sure it’s a learning curve - and that I can train myself to get better at it if I really want to.

I also  felt insecure about things like: should I look at the people looking at my art? Or would that make them feel uncomfortable, and chase them away?
When people were looking at my art and didn’t express any opinion or feeling about it, it made me nervous. But also the question popped up: should I care what they think? A week ago, I stated that this art is just for me, and I don’t care what others would think. But when you hang it on the wall and invite people to look at it, everything shifts.

Here’s an interesting observation I made :
The people who know me (and my drawings) and came to the open studios, seemed quite impressed by my paintings.
My mother's words touched me when she said that she was a bit confused seeing the paintings. She could hardly understand that it came from me - in a positive sense.
My studio mate’s husband  also gave me a nice compliment. He said I had found a nice unity in the selected works. He comes to visit his wife in the studio every so often and then sees my works in progress on the easels. He has seen my searching, experimentation and explorations from the very beginning and now saw a series of paintings representing a very rapid development.

It seems that the work appeals especially if people know where I come from or if they understand the process.

Jealous of my other inner artist

My paintings got a lot less immediate reaction and open response than my drawings. I had put an accordion sketchbook on a table a little in the back of the room. The drawings tell stories of recognizable things (the mundane and daily stuff), and are of course a lot more accessible than abstract art may be.

The responses to my drawings made the novice painter in me a bit jealous of the experienced drawing artist in me. Of course I can put it all in perspective, because I know I can't compare my one 'beginning' with my other 'middle'. After all, every expert was once a beginner. But still, I can’t deny the pang of insecurity and yet again imposter syndrome.

I do think my paintings have potential.  So there won’t be any immediate consequences to the mixed feelings I have after this past weekend.

There were a lot of visitors during the weekend of the open studios. It was exciting, and I feel courageous that in spite of my initial reluctance, I stepped way out of my comfort zone and did it anyway.

I can’t wait to get back into the studio and make it messy again, to play with all my art supplies and big canvases. I am only just getting started.

Being a Beginner

It’s great to be a beginner at something, and maybe that’s the whole point of this article: thanks to a lot of practice, an artist (like you and me) might at some point start feeling  comfortable and confident with certain tools in hand (even though there is always something new to learn within the known area). That may be the moment to step way out of your comfort zone and be a beginner again - learning from scratch, being humble, and celebrating each small milestone in the process.