What I Bring to the Table
This post is about putting on shows and finding motivation.
Why I’m organizing another gallery show
Last year I booked Slip Gallery for a Living Artists Collective show to happen in September 2024. LAC is the nonprofit 501(c)3 that I started in 2019 whose mission was to provide opportunities and funding for visual artists so they could have a better chance at remaining in the increasingly-expensive Seattle area. At that point I thought I could make LAC last forever, putting everything I could into keeping it afloat. Then, around the end of 2023, some funding we were expecting didn’t come through, and that plus my exhaustion meant it was time to close.
It happened (what felt like) pretty quickly, and the time came when I needed to either give up the Slip show I had booked to someone else, or organize it myself. I chose to keep it, not having any idea at the time what it would look like. Early summer crept in, and I still had no clue and no desire to jump back into planning a show.
Applications as motivation
I started slowly building the momentum to apply to artist residencies for myself. There's a handful of amazing ones within driving distance of Seattle, so I began there, drawing from my running list of links and due dates I keep in my planning app (Trello) and comb through when I find myself with energy to apply. (I've tried scheduling this art admin time into my weeks, but I've found it a lot harder to focus than when I let motivation strike naturally.)
The due date for the Centrum Fort Warden yearly residency application forced me to contemplate the future of my art practice by asking what I would work on if they awarded me anywhere between 1-5 weeks of time there. They also required an idea for public engagement, and they will select three artists to execute their plans in the coming year. I will hear back in late September.
The public engagement idea I chose got me thinking more about basic foodstuffs. This is a phrase and theme that has shown up in my work a lot lately, stemming from my tendency to grab random things, often food, around my house and paint them in still life. It also comes from my love of Vanitas (“empty/worthless vanities” in Latin). In the art history world, the word is symbolic of Memento Mori (“remember that you will die” in Latin) still life paintings originating from Holland around the 17th century. They depict lavish displays of food, drink, and flowers wilting amid skulls and insects, serving as a religious warning to choose God before death. It is particularly cathartic to me that these works can be easily reinterpreted as beautiful signs to live life to the fullest in the face of inevitable death and decay.
So, I submitted my idea: collect a large table full of food, pretty objects, fabrics, and anything else that catches my eye and invite people to make art with me. I imagined people set up surrounding the table, making drawings and paintings and engaging with one another in the process. I even thought they could use the objects in installations, sculptures, or photos. It would become a body of work created by many and united by the same items.
The show: “what you bring to the table”
Because I have no idea if my idea will be chosen for the Centrum residency, I decided to do this myself during the September Slip Gallery show. I resurrected a group exhibit idea kicking around in my notes, also inspired by basic foodstuffs: “what you bring to the table”. I started inviting artists who make food-themed artwork and ended up with 12 of us total, all contributing individual and collaborative works to our show which opens during the September 13th Belltown Artwalk, 6-9pm.
With this show we are investigating, literally and figuratively, what artists bring to the table. It will create an atmosphere that mimics the exchange of meals and community that surrounds it. The artwork covers topics like basic needs, relationships, memories, culture, ritual, routine, value, and expectations of oneself and those around them. I chose this theme not just because human ritual around food is central to my own artistic practice, but because food is a universal subject matter that everyone can relate to.
I sought out work done in unique mediums like tin, glass, epoxy clay, natural inks, and textiles. The collaborative works include blank recipe cards for visitors to fill out: “recipe for disaster”, “recipe for grandma’s cookies”, “recipe for romance”, whatever else people think up. Also, nine of the artists are contributing a place setting to a round table in the space using any mediums they wish. We will install the work together and interweave our pieces.
Behind the scenes
Install happens in about a week! Before then I still need to do a (large) handful of other admin things, but a lot of it is already accomplished: I applied for a smART grant with the City of Seattle, coordinated the collaborative art pieces, created and distributed flyers, and set up advertisements in various local publications. There’s always this final push where I need to send out individual email invites, get answers from the less-responsive artists, and tie up loose ends, not to mention finish my own artwork in preparation for the opening. This is when it starts to feel heavier and less fun, and I start tempering my expectations, telling myself no one will show up. I would never admit that, or at least share it publicly, during the LAC days of putting on gallery shows. But the fear was always there, front and center. It feels nice to share my feelings now.
I haven’t figured out the perfect formula for putting on this level of show. With community galleries like Slip there’s not a ton of professional guidance, because everyone involved is doing it simply for the love of art and the desire for connection. This doesn’t mean the shows are any less wonderful, but it does mean I figured most of it out myself and made my own rules.
I am still building up my network of people and businesses I go to for various things like printing, fabrication, event photo and video. I operate on lists and instinct, not so much setting myself deadlines as letting motivation lead me in bursts of action. Perhaps surprisingly, I usually get things done with just about the right amount of time to spare. Every time I put on a show I learn things I had no idea about before; things that feel like rules other show organizers and gallery owners have been following that I am clueless about. Ultimately, I’m not sure I want to learn it all conventionally because I am happy with the shows I have organized, and I don’t want to feel the weight of those rules. If anything, I want to learn better carpentry and installation skills: build out my tool collection and generally feel more secure about safely handling and installing artwork.
My current life goals and priorities
Relationship with myself: I’m in the process of testing out a medication for ADHD and depression that is supposed to help with keeping more consistent motivation. I’ll go through stretches of time where I don’t have the desire to accomplish anything, especially painting, and I am hopeful about getting help with this.
Romantic relationships: The living arrangement I’ve had for the last several months is wearing on me and my partnerships, so we are exploring different ideas. Part of this is that I have been ignoring my own desires and needs in service of people pleasing and not rocking the boat. It now feels like I have a better handle on what’s going on, so I am hopeful for the near future. Goes to show that relationships can’t thrive without the intentional work put in by each individual.
Art practice: I need to get through the “what you bring to the table” show opening so that I can free up time for art making. I’m in quite a painting dry spell, having gone weeks without touching my brushes. The barrier seems to build each day I don’t do it, which means I REALLY need to do it. At least I’ve been embroidering, which feels nice and fills time well. And I have ideas for some pieces to go in specific parts of my house. Site-specificity for me is almost as good a motivator as having a deadline.
Real world connections: I took August off of hosting the arts leaders networking group I started. I get in my head, thinking it’s not truly useful. But it’s been over a year and people keep showing up, so I think I need to believe in it and schedule one for September. However, I might need to break my rule of not hosting in the same place twice. I went to Bumbershoot this past weekend and ran into many people I know from the art world, which affirmed for me that I have strong connections in this city. It’s weird how easy it is for insecure thoughts to undermine my realities in times of weakness.
Some recent images of my work and life
Thank you for following along with my journey. I started this blog/newsletter last month and quietly published the first post without sending it to anyone directly. Read it here if you’re curious about my motivations.
I hope to see you at Slip Gallery for “what you bring to the table”. In the meantime, please subscribe to this Substack for free, check out my website, and invite me for coffee or to have a studio visit.
website: alainaarts.com
email: alainaarts@gmail.com
insta: @gobbeldigook