Artists at Art Fairs

I attended a few openings in Chelsea last night (two I'll recommend: Gary Petersen at Michael Steinberg's and James Siena at Pace Wildenstein ... painting lovers will love them both), and each time I asked an artist if we'd see them in Miami, most shared some hesitation about putting themselves through that experience.

Of course there are some artists who, like me, thrive in such settings, being very social and getting off on the energy. But last night, again and again, I heard..."Ahh, I'm not sure. I don't like how I feel at those things." And the more "those things" become the new biennials, where there's less of a distinction between the commerce and conceptual aspects of the art business, the more difficult it becomes to decide whether to attend.

There's a line in the movie Heathers that comes to mind when I step back and imagine how I must look trying to advise artists about this. The flaky high school teacher is "counseling" Veronica and says: "Deciding whether or not to commit suicide is one of the most important decisions a teenager has to make."

I mean, let's face it...seeing hundreds and hundreds of works of art for sale cannot help but make you feel a bit like a number in a cold, hard system. Even if you're currently in the midst of your 15 minutes of fame, or reasonably established, there are many other artists at that same stage, and they've all got work in that same fair, sometimes selling for more than yours. It can be discouraging. Unless....

What I tell my artists who ask whether they should attend an art fair is only if they're prepared to take off their creative hat and put on their business hat. An art fair is about the business of selling art. If you're going there looking for artistic validation, you're likely going to come away discouraged. This is not the place to focus on your work's conceptual or aesthetic integrity. It had better have that to spare and then some here. In this setting, your work is a product. The buyers are incredibly knowledgeable, and the competition is über-fierce.

In yesterday's thread, Anonymous asked "Do you think that an artist that is not represented by another gallery should not attend the fair at all?"

That's a good question: If you don't yet have a gallery or only have a gallery in one city and wish to expand the number of spaces you're working with, what are your chances of starting up a productive conversation with a gallery participating in that fair? It depends on so many factors. The better you understand how the whole thing works (really works, I mean), the greater your chances of success are here.

Before anything else, I'd suggest you consider how much pressure a gallerist is under during an art fair, so you don't misinterpret their response to being approached. First of all, it's a horrendous amount of work getting there, getting set up, living out of a suitcase but working twice as hard as you normally have to, networking half your ass off each night just to get up and work off the other half each day. It's emotionally and physically draining. Personally, I love it, but most of my friends who are gallerists see it as a necessary evil. It's hardly a vacation. Secondly, gallerists must, must, must pay for their expenses and often times are counting on making a chunk of change to get them through the leaner months to come. In other words, they're a bit desperate.

So before approaching a gallerist, imagine that they've not sold a single thing yet. They've shelled out tens of thousands of dollars to get here, but collectors just aren't buying, and they're calculating how many of those empty Coke cans they saw in the garbage out back they can return to the supermarket to buy a Greyhound bus ticket home at this point. This is certainly a worst-case scenario, but I've worked art fairs for other galleries before where it was not that far from the truth. Now imagine that into this setting enters you, with no prior introduction, wanting the dealer to shift their focus from their dire situation and have a look at your portfolio. That blank look on their face that greets you is caused by their wondering if your body will fit in the extra crate in the back.

This is most likely not the situation for many galleries in Miami, especially now that the market's as strong as it is, but I guarantee it will be for some.

But there they are...all in one place...the art dealers who you've been dying to meet and have over to your studio. Surely, if you could just get them to look at one image, it could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Well, perhaps it could. But remember what I said above: "An art fair is about the business of selling art," so be a total professional. Here are some guidelines for how to approach a gallery at a fair, if you must.

1. Do you homework. Know something about the galleries you want to talk to before you go. Your best opening comment is always an informed statement about some aspect of their program. The more knowledgeable and positive you are the better, and if you can't honestly compliment their program, this probably isn't the gallery for you.
2. Choose your moment. Your schedule will likely be just as hectic as anyone else's, but the most dangerous place at any fair is the space between a dealer and the collector he/she wants to talk to. Getting in between them will not make a good impression. Later in the fair, when the dealers have (hopefully) sold most their work is probably better than earlier. The last day can be better, but not late in the day, as the only thing the dealer's thinking about then is packing up.
3. Read the signs. If the dealer is clearly distracted or not interested, say "Good luck," sign their book, leave your card, and follow up a few weeks later. Don't push your luck. Like I said yesterday, we have a black list, and artists we had kind of liked before they demanded attention at a fair, we now cross the street to avoid if we see them.
4. Reach out before hand. A gallerist is much more likely to take some time to talk if they recognize your name or your work. If you had sent your slides and got a form rejection letter though, you might want to wait until there's a better introductory point. If you have a gallery already, have them email the other gallery you're interested in and let them know you'll be by. Some level of previous recognition goes a long way here.
5. Use your best connections. If you're friends with a well-known collector or museum director, ask them to visit the gallery's booth with you. I really shouldn't share this info (and apologize to my gallerist friends in advance), but this is undoubtedly your best avenue to introducing yourself. The association will stick in the gallerist's mind.
6. Meet dealers at the fair's parties before visiting their booths. Some of this begins to get obvious, in that this is how networking is done, but generally everyone is very happy to see the "life of last night's party" in their booth the next day. But this leads into perhaps the most important advice I can give...
7. Keep it short. All you can really hope for, unless the gallery approaches you and/or invites you to breakfast to discuss future plans together, is to make a good impression and follow-up later. Fairs are fast and furious, and no matter how happy the dealer is to see you, there are hundreds of people behind you they're just as anxious to meet. A good impression is a good day's work. Make it and go.
8. Consider not doing this. After all that, I hate to throw cold water over all this, but in general, if you ask any dealer, meeting previously unknown artists is about 10th or 11th on their priority list for art fairs. That doesn't mean they're not happy to see your work in some other gallery's booth, just that they're so busy and the experience is so intense, they're happier about making connections on their own terms.

Enjoy the fair.