Art:Raw Nightmare

There were red flags. I ignored them. My Thursday night experience (actually it has been nearly a month-long experience if you count e-mails and phone calls) at Art:Raw Gallery in Chelsea left me feeling mortified, fearful, and angry in one fell swoop. After letting the experience settle for a few days, I am finally ready (and eager) to talk about where I went wrong, where they went wrong, and basically what happened.

Please plan to take a break while reading this post! It is very long, but I think it's important to read the whole thing. You are a true trooper if you make it to the end!

First and perhaps pettily, the submission process may have been too good to be true. Is that possible, you ask? It is in this case, and I'll explain why. There was no entry fee. There were no resumes required upon submission. A statement was not required either. Work under 12" x 12" and the ability to send three .JPEGs to an e-mail address was all you needed to qualify for this show. I'm not saying that having no resume or statement required upon submission is a bad thing-- normally it is a very good thing! It means the gallery is accepting you solely on the basis of the quality and aesthetic fundamentals of your work alone. That is a prime situation to be in. However, in the case of Art:Raw, it meant the absolute absence of selectivity. I felt as though everyone and anyone was accepted into this exhibit. The pieces on the wall did not relate to one another. How could they, when 319 artists have been accepted?

That's right. 319 artists. The first red flag. The show was not juried. Not that a juried show is amazing, but there is really no need to accept over 300 artists in such a production. The square footage of the gallery could not have been over 300 square feet. I am not exaggerating. Oh! Maybe that was their bright idea! We have 300 square feet so let's get (more than?) 300 artists to cover every inch of our walls! Here is the kicker to all of this "lack of selection" babble: Each selected artist was invited to send up to four pieces to the show. FOUR. Times 319. =1,276 pieces of work. Is the pseudo-name for this gallery... "Art Mansion," or "All of Manhattan" perhaps? How in the world is this tiny gallery in Chelsea going to house all of this artwork? Each piece had to be under 12" x 12." I think I've made my point clearly enough. Even if we are kind and say that maybe the average accepted artist sent only two pieces, this fun-sized gallery would need to house 638 paintings. Not happening.

Which leads me to my first personal bad experience with the gallery staff. The entry form stated that each work needed to be wired and ready to hang. Okay, but my three pieces are monotypes on paper, they are not meant to be framed (and I can't afford it even if they were), let me shoot a short & sweet e-mail to Joshua Wohl, the owner, and ask if he'd consider hanging my work with straight pins. This is the the e-mail I sent:

Joshua,

The three pieces of mine selected to be displayed in the inaugural show are monotypes. Naturally, they are on paper. I was wondering if they will be exhibited with straight pins (which is fine with me) or if I should mat the work before mailing it. Please let me know how I should prepare the work, if at all, for the show.

Thanks,

Kaylie Abela

Perfect, right? This is the response I received:

We're strict about the 12" to be fair to all artists. 

To which I promptly replied (annoyed): 

My e-mail was inquiring as to how the works on paper will be hanged. I am not concerned about the 12 inch limit. My pieces fit the criteria. Again, Please let me know how I should prepare the work, if at all, for the show.

Okay. I wont use any harsh D-words like "dense," "distracted," or "dim," but I think it's obvious that I had some reservations about the staff of this gallery before I even set foot inside. My e-mail inquiry was tailored to my work and articulate. The response I received had nothing to do with what I was asking. (The last message I pasted above received another useless response). However, I am very particular about e-mails. I am diligent with checking and responding to my e-mail, so I'm not afraid to admit that I'm a little annoyed when my e-mails go unanswered are are not responded to with the care in which I think is necessary. Since I know this about myself, I thought, "Hey, it could be worse!" It got worse.

The second real red flag (I am generously not counting the e-mail correspondence) went up when I read Art:Raw's press release, which you can read if you'd like here. PR.com provided a press release that is a bit nicer than the one on the Art:Raw website, which uses informal grammar like "100's" instead of hundreds. The grammar doesn't work. The sentences are too long. Okay, it's just a badly written press release. Bottom line. Not the end of the world, I guess.

Remember that heavenly place I described above that involved an online submission process with virtually no guidelines and no entry fees? Say hello to participation fees. Participation fees are generally a small amount of money asked of the artists in a group show to help pay for general PR and opening night expenses such as refreshments, alcohol (usually wine or champagne), brochures, postcards for the show, and advertising for the show. As artists, we shouldn't complain about participation fees for a group show. They go to good use. Unless you're exhibiting with Art:Raw. The participation fee was $50.00 USD. Fifty dollars is the highest participation fee I've ever stumbled across. It is even higher than most (90 percent?) of entry fees, which usually range from $10-$40 for about four images. Participation fees are usually less expensive (from my experience). So, not only was this fee outrageous, it was multiplied by 319 artists! Every time I hear that number I go into a miniature shock! The gallery made $15,950 off of its artists' participation fees. This show should have had a DJ, light show, rented limousines escorting each artist to the exhibit, and our choice of filet mignon or imported salmon for refreshments. But here's the kicker. There were no refreshments, no wine, no champagne, no appetizers, not even water! There were no postcards or brochures. Where did our money go? I'll tell you where it went. Four or five rolls of double sided tape, because that's how the entire exhibition was hung. Yes, you read my correctly: double. sided. tape. I've never in my short years seen a gallery hang with double sided tape. I can see its relevance in a pinch. But Art:Raw was not in a pinch; it had all the time in the world to put the show together (Hello! Inaugural! They didn't even have to take another show down first!) and $15,950 to install or hire someone to correctly install the work. Also, what was all the fuss about having your work "wired and ready to hang," if it wasn't going to be properly hung? I have not used double sided tape to hang a piece of work except perhaps when I was ten years old and decided to hang a drawing on my wall. When I was ten-and-a-half I learned never to do it again, because as I peeled the drawing off the wall, it ripped. And ugly, sticky, foamy stuff was left on the wall. I'm confident that when Art:Raw takes down this exhibition, they will ruin half the pieces. I'm pretty sure the owner of this gallery is older than ten-and-a-half so I'm really not sure what his excuse is.

Enough about that. I could write all day about what a stratospherically wrong decision I believe double sided tape is. But maybe that's my opinion. Let's move on. Upon entering the gallery on opening night, one of the first sounds I heard was "Kerplunk... crash!" A framed painting had fallen off the wall. The hipsters standing beside it looked at it and then continued their conversation. That piece wasn't the only piece on the floor. Tons of framed works of art sat in piles on the floor. Yes, the floor. Not displayed on a wall or within sight. They were leaned against the wall, facing inward. I noted three piles, each having between 10 and 30 pieces. First of all, as I pointed out before, don't accept more work than you can house. Second of all, if by accident you do, file the extra work away. What are you doing leaving it on the floor during your opening? Inviting people to kick it?

Here's another personal one. I'll try to keep it short. It took me a long time to find my work but it's probably just because I couldn't move around in there. When I finally did, I was disappointed. They are displayed on the side of the desk. I know. Tackier than tacky. Who puts work on the side of a desk? The good part is, they had their own area. My work was not edged by anyone else's work, as was all of the work on the walls. Unfortunately, like I mentioned, the place was packed. I winced as I watched people drag along their bodies and rub against my delicate monoprints on paper. I was mad. Then I noticed only two out of the three works I sent were displayed, but a little teeny tiny piece of double sided tape remained stuck to the desk. I asked the girl at the desk where it was. She said it was behind the desk. It had fallen. Obviously. A gust of wind could have unhinged my pieces from the desk, let alone a crowd of 500. This goes to show the carelessness with which Art:Raw treated its artists' work.

I tried to let everything go. After all, it's a group show in New York, it looks good on my resume, and since my friends arrived to meet me before I could call and tell them not to come, I let them talk me into leaving my work there and not feeling so anxious about it. I tried to agree with them, left the opening with lightening speed, and forgot about it over drinks.

Until this afternoon. "I'm really wondering how my fallen piece is doing," I thought to myself. I called Art:Raw to inquire. "Hi, I'm one of the artists in your current show and one of my pieces fell during opening night. I'm calling to check on it. I was wondering if it had gotten damaged at all; there were a lot of people there, someone could have stepped on it." "Oh let me get it..." (I hear papers being shuffled). "It's umm... it doesn't look like anyone stepped on it, um it might be bent, well, it's a little dirty... but you could probably just wipe it off." "So you mean to tell me that my work is not on display? Instead, it is behind your desk, crinkled, and dirty?" "Yes. It wasn't hung properly so it fell." "I noticed it wasn't hung properly," I responded. Then, with more attitude than is ever acceptable in a gallery/artist relationship, the girl replied, "Well we didn't have to hang it at all, you know." "Excuse me?" I asked. "The contract said all work should be wired and ready to hang." Now I'm pissed. Naturally. Remember that lovely e-mail correspondence you read like half an hour ago (because this is to long)? Yeah. "I INQUIRED about framing the work to make it ready to hang, and whoever responded to me gave me a totally bogus answer that had nothing to do with the question I asked." (Yes, I used the word "bogus.") "What's your point?" She says. UM. I repeat. She says, "Yeah? So? It said right in the contract that work had to be ready to hang." At this point, I'll admit, I am yelling a little bit. Just a little. "Would you like to send the work back to me?" I suggested. She said it was up to me. I said I'll think about it and call her back. "It's better if you e-mail," she says. I laugh out loud. "Last time I e-mailed you, the response I received was absolutely out to lunch, so I'll probably call you." Silence. "Okay?!" the she pulls one of these: "Hello ... hello?" and hangs up. She could hear me. She was being obnoxious. We did eventually touch base again. And I told her I would probably be sending in a friend to pick up the work, since they wouldn't pay for return shipping. That's another thing. It's pretty standard but not quite a "rule" that the gallery pays for return shipping for any work that doesn't sell. I have a friend in New York so I'll probably send him to pick up the work for me, but nonetheless, I'm appalled, totally taken aback by the way I was treated by this woman. So, artists, never feel like you need to follow through with a gallery that you don't feel comfortable in or has staff with whom you don't quite click with. Without artists, these places wouldn't be in business. I know, it constantly feels like we need them, we need representation, we desperately need a gallery! But don't fool yourself. They need you too. Without artists, these places wouldn't have a business. There is no reason, ever, for a gallery director or owner or even receptionist to treat you with the disrespect that I was treated with on the phone today. The woman I spoke to was the owner's wife, Sophia. I will never do work with them again and I will do everything in my power to make sure that other artists don't, either.

I am considering making a blog to display some of the experiences different artists had at opening night, their feelings toward Art:Raw as a business, their attitudes about the personnel, and anything else related to the Inaugural Exhibit. The problem with this project is that I don't have enough time to devote to it, and it could be counterproductive, and although I've heard from a dozen or so other artists about their horrifying experiences with Art:Raw, none of them want their opinions to be published. I'm not sure what there is to be afraid of, but anyway... the project may just never happen.

This will probably be my longest post ever, I'm sorry if you're tired from reading it!