Cheese curds, art shows, and other things that don't go together...

I had my second art show experience, though to be fair once again, calling it an art show might be a stretch. We were at the Ellsworth Cheese Curd Festival, and it was "art" versus Small Town America. And Small Town America won, hands down.

I think that we should have known that this show was doomed on Friday night after more than three inches of rain fell in an hour, hail fell in a tin-pinging deluge, the tornado sirens went off twice, and there were five inches of water in the tent and the power converter for the computer was swimming at the bottom of the puddle. And then it got worse...

Seriously, how can you compete against a tractor pull? It wasn't really that as much as the simple fact that the people who go to tractor pulls don't really care that the pendants were made hand-made with dichroic glass, and that the coasters really were different than the ones their six-year-old made at school, that the pictures were all "tooken" by me, and yes, there is an Eiffel tower in Las Vegas, but the photos I had carefully printed on archival paper with archival ink were of that other tower in Paris that just looks like the one in Las Vegas.

And we learned once again that the economy really isn't recovered--it wasn't like these patrons of the arts were gorging themselves at the trough of art somewhere else on the fairgrounds. All the vendors (who were to a person all nice, helpful, and generous with their advice) reported that things were slow.

We made the rent for the booth today about 3:30, and that is about all we did. But we learned a lot and had some fun. And ate some cheese curds. And that was what it was what it was supposed to be about anyways.

The pictures are a hodge-podge of photos and are in no particular order One shows my part of the booth, while others show the venue on Friday night in the rain and then on Saturday against the background of threatening skies and the inevitable silos. There was a parade, with tiny portrayals of key local dairy products, and local royalty in front of the creepy green symbol of their festival,the June Bug. The blow-up slides and other amusements were popular and colorful, and the chain saw artist was, well, an artist with a chain saw. The pond was where I wanted to be with all the peace that it symbolized.

Something new

I did something today that I have never done before. Actually, I am kind of proud of just being able to say that--there are many 50 year old peoplewho can't say that or don't get to say that very often, yet lately it seems I get to do and say this often. And most of the new things that I get to do I get to do by choice, and today was certainly one of those instances.

Lest you think that what I did was earth shattering, let me calm you. All I did was sell some photos at an art show. I shared a booth with a good friend who is a fantastic glass artist, but it was the art show that was a new experience. Unlike many photographers, for 15 years I actually made a real living from my photography but in a different way. I sold my time and talent, not necessarily just my photographs, and there is a real difference. As people have discovered in my current life, I tend to give my photos away to people who want them or even pretend to want them. Mention you like pictures of flowers and you will end up with more photos of flowers than you ever ever wanted, from daisies to petunias to sunflowers. Like sunsets or pictures from someplace? Watch out, you will have more than you ever wanted. In the past few years, I have sold one photo for real cash money--most have been given away or forced upon some fool who but mentioned that they liked a photo of mine.

So actually selling photos scares me to death, as there is a world of difference between liking one of my photos and liking it enough to actually pay for it. I guess I have never been willing to push that last step--I think I have avoided "rejection" by not making people take that step where they had to say they liked it, and liked it enough to actually pay for it. When you set up at an art show, it does kind of force that step. My friend who does glass "stuff" kind of feels the same way, and this was a push for both of us and a nerve wracking step. Plus, what if no one was interested enough to actually buy something? Could our egos handle it?

We didn't have to worry. We both sold about $165 worth of "art" each, which was a huge success for both of us, artistically, egotistically, and even financially. At the very least, we weren't skunked, which was our fear. But lest I think about quitting my day job, I was aware that the term "art show" was used somewhat inappropriately or at least loosely. Our booth was next to the booth that sold ceramic lawn ornaments, including lawn gnomes and bathtub Virgin Mary statues. We were across from booths that sold soap and pillows with large moose on them. Down the line were booths that sold everything from rugs to macrame. While the glass in our booth was first class and the class of the show, I was outsold by an "artist" who sold small prints of abandoned barns and old Dodges. All that put it in a bit of perspective. This was not a juried art show.

It also showed and told me that if I need to and want to do this again, to be successful will require some adaptation on my part and with my "art." I know that there is some appeal to my photos, but do they meet the demands of the local patrons of the art? I guess not. See above about what kind of art probably outsold my "art" by a factor of three. Now one really cares about Washington scenic views or pictures from Prague. They seem to want photos of old barns that they can relate to, and smaller pictures that they can put on smaller walls. I perhaps missed my target audience with a 16X20 print from some obscure place in Europe or the Oregon Coast.

I understand all this... It is the oldest challenge in art--no doubt Picasso wanted to paint people with their ears and breasts in the right places and wanted to use some color other than blue, but he had to adapt to market demands. But the other part of that is how do I meet market demands and print small photos of loons and old barns and note cards for $7.50 a pack while still keeping and protecting and feeding my muse that wants to print big and actually present photos of places other than the Upper Midwest? My word, note cards? I bought a $2500 printer for note cards or magnets? Of the old barns of Benton County? So people won't confuse Prague with New Prague or Paris with Paris, Texas?

It is not as dire as this, and I know this. I have always been good about taking pictures of my local area, my home, and I will just have to work on this more. People don't know what to do with a 16X20 print, so I can print smaller without having to just print note cards. While I don't know about old barns, there is a beauty in this area that I have not really even begun to exploit.

I will never get rich, but I can compromise a bit. It doesn't affect one whit what I hang on my walls. And if I do this I can continue to do somethings for the very first time. Even if it is an art show where they sell more trolls than photos.