The show’s up…
March 26, 2009 by cynthia
…and now I’m fighting fifth hour panic, that moment when you realize that you have a long, long way to go but it’s too late to grab your pitiful little bits and go home.
I got my work to Guardino Gallery yesterday, stuck around to help hang/haul/lug/place the rest of the show, stick placards where things go and just generally make myself useful. (I wrote about it yesterday) I also got a heaping helping of inferiority complex: The stuff in this show is GOOD.
Eeek. Do real artists feel this way? This could cause a serious re-evaluation of my plans.
Admittedly, the piece the owner chose to feature isn’t even in the show: It’s broken. The other three are older works, studies for bigger pieces, meant to compliment the big one that isn’t there. I owed Guardino four pieces, not three, though, and so at the last minute I chose an older piece of Gaffer crystal. I love it for its color and movement, but I can clearly see how far I’ve come in two years of working at this sculpting stuff.
Still, when the light hits it, the colors enchant and you just want to pet it and it was all I had that wasn’t broken or someone else owned. So I offered it to the gallery owner and she took it. Now it’s sitting beside an absolutely stunning ceramic study of a woman with an owl and Marty Eichinger’s beautiful bronze, and I woke up in the middle of the night remembering the polite nods of my fellow artists–nothing lit their faces except encouragement for a novice. I desperately wanted to break into the gallery and take it back, hide it in a closet.
It’s Last Thursday on Alberta Street, the gallery will be thronged with art lovers, and all I have to show them is…this crap?
I need a serious shot of confidence. Scratch that–I need to make a rule that until I love it, can find absolutely no flaw in it, it doesn’t leave the studio. Of course, that’s why it hasn’t left the studio much before this: It’s never good enough.
Isn’t it funny that I have never, ever–not even once–doubted my writing, never shied from presenting it, never failed to market it as superior, made a pretty good living from it…but I can’t do that with my sculpture?
I can talk about my sculpture in context, in the course of teaching people about pate de verre, or glass, or interesting problems that need solving. I can talk about it as a journey to get somewhere, but I can’t plunk it down at the end of the trip and say, “Here it is. This is my art.”
How silly. You can’t be a writer without embracing rejection. This sculpture stuff shouldn’t be any different. I KNOW that when someone wants to buy your work the correct response is not, “Really?” as if they must have a screw loose.
What the hell is wrong with me? Obviously, a little backbone is in order.
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we are our own worst critics.
sometimes you have to just let go of your babies to let them sink or swim in the world. you don’t have any kids, do you?
Uhm, no…I don’t have any kids, but I’m not sure what that has to do with this…?
You mean these sculptures are my children? Well, up until now I thought my computers were my kids…
Cynthia,
You have a sickness common to many artists, it lives at our studio too. There are mood calming meds for this. I’ll bring some tonight, they mix well with alcohol too!
Your work is great, no need to whine about your level of work. One very nice thing about your sculpture is many of us can relate to the faces, your stories and the beauty of the glass. Just keep striving for the next level, you have nothing to worry about. Your very good work will just get better.
Ed
Cynthia,
OMG! I know we all have self doubts and are our own worst critics, but really. I marvel at what you do. I’ve read articles about you in Glass Craftsman for goodness sake. You are talented and oh yes, your work is GREAT. Ok, I’m not a well known art critic or anything, but I do believe I have an eye for good work and I can more than appreciate, admire what you do.
I don’t have children either, unless basset hounds count! But I think or it has felt like when I put my work into a juried show or an exhibition, like it’s an extension of myself. Maybe that is part of what you are feeling?
As Cher said to Nick Cage in Moonstuck, “Snap outta it!”. I’m just trying to make you smile here.
So enjoy the show, please believe people when they compliment your work, and have a nice drink or whatever. And report back on how great it was. Ok?
Kathleen
“You mean these sculptures are my children? Well, up until now I thought my computers were my kids…”
children, and our art, are creations, and thus extensions of ourselves. with children, when they go off to college or leave the house (for good), they are no longer part of us, and we have little to no control over them (not that we had that much beforehand either, but work with me here).
part of that is scary: what if i didn’t do such a good job raising/making them? what will others think of what i did? could i have done a better job? is the job ever over, since they call and ask for/complain about further advice?
that’s exactly what you’re thinking here.
ps: computers can’t be kids. they do exactly what you tell them; no more, no less. cats, on the other hand…
Well, my computers behave exactly like sulky children. I think we’ve been together long enough that they’re starting to respond to my moods…
But I see what you mean, and thank you for suggesting it…I think you’re probably right.
And thanks so much for the advice, Kathleen. I did snap out of it–writing that made me realize I was being silly. (Well, mostly…)
Well where to start. For one things I do not even have to say anything accept take a ” LOOK” at the photo in the above comment by you. (the amazing self portrait) I am now looking at you like that.!!!! Give your head a shake, dust off your NERVE BUTTON, and take a bow. For goodness sake girl. You have NO idea how good you are. The expressions you are able to create in clay (and then is translated into glass) is INCREDIBLE!!!!! I NEVER would have thought you to be a nervous person. So fulll of confidence and Believe me you should feel confident Cynthia. And just think they do not even have your BEST work yet. It is still in clay!!!!!!!! WOW! I am proud of you for getting it out so the public can enjoy it as much as I do when I come to visit. (and my next visit will be to give you a light smack on the side of your head!!! ) to shake you out of this. Relish in your success dear friend. Les
Well, thanks, Les. I’m trying to get that stuff out of clay and into something more useful. Just heard Andy Paiko say that for every 10 minutes he spends in the studio creating he spends 90 minutes doing something else, and boy, I’m beginning to believe it.
I know exactly how you feel. That’s how I felt the first time my work was shown at SOFA Chicago. OMG, what am I doing here? I was totally humbled.
Uhm….that makes me feel a bit better, Ellen. I think you’re what I want to be when I grow up.