The pen versus the paint
· Citizen
Right now, my Graduate Exhibition is happening in Dublin.
This is the grand finale of my art degree, and it’s a big deal – a hotly anticipated annual celebration of artistry at Ireland’s oldest and most respected art institution.
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Literally thousands of businesses, dignitaries, public bodies and Joe Publics come through the doors over the course of 10 days.
Creative mind
It is, tells the blurb, a chance to meet future creative leaders at the start of their journey. “Their creativity reinforces the power of art and design to influence and inspire real change,” it declares.
No, it’s not about sales, they tell us repeatedly. However, I grew up in the ’80s. I was weaned on the cold milk of capitalism, and I know even artists can’t survive on paint fumes and lofty ideals; even windy garret studios aren’t rent-free.
Artists need cash. Everything is about sales.
Art on display
Meanwhile, every visitor is, I suspect, hoping to bag a bargain, to find a slice of magic that speaks to their soul, which also happens to be by an undiscovered future Picasso.
I have 31 pieces on display in my exhibition space, from paintings that would fit into a handbag to art that would dominate a room. All have a price tag.
The evening before Friday’s opening, I was chatting to my mum. “If I don’t sell anything,” I told her, “I’m giving up.”
So it seems I’m not giving up: by the close of business on opening night, 22 of my paintings had sold.
Exhibition day ahead
There are six days left, and my hopes have been adjusted accordingly: now I’m crossing fingers for a sellout show.
Hmm, says a friend, it’s a bit of a mercenary approach to the children of your creative soul… and I suspect she’s only half-joking.
Yet I also know being paid for work is validation. I may have painted for years, but I’ve never felt like an artist. Instead, I have been a writer who dabbles in art.
An honour
But when someone puts down money for the thing you do there’s a tectonic shift: it takes it from being a slightly embarrassing middle-aged lady hobby into being a legitimate job.
And what an honour it is that people have chosen my paintings to buy, to take home, to put on the wall, to look at every day.
I am a writer. Now, at last, I am an artist, too.