Take a deep breath...

Remarkably, it all came together and flowed without a hitch.  Deep breath.

Putting an exhibit together is probably similar to putting on a stage production.  One has to consider the first impression, the sounds, the smells, the layout, the flow, lighting (of course!) and presentation of the art itself.

Working with Suzette McIntyre, owner of the Boardwalk Gallery, was really delightful.  When I first pitched this idea of flood stick art to commemorate the 2013 Colorado flooding she embraced the concept and somehow saw how it would fit with bronze sculptures by Mark Hopkins of Loveland.  At the time I was unfamiliar with Mark's work but when I saw it the first time I understood why Suzette thought of him so quickly.

The work, sticks and bronze, blended so beautifully, echoing shapes and structure.  When the gallery was finally set and the lights arranged, it took my breath away.  I think that's a good reaction to have when one is opening the doors to a whole new body of work for me.

Moving pieces into the gallery was quite a process.  

Careful and precise packing to insure pieces arrive in one piece!

Ken and Suzette carefully bring "Tangled" into the gallery.

While stick art is more fragile, it sure weighs less than bronze!

First items arrive inside the gallery.

Again, like a stage production, the first steps are to block the space, figuring out what hangs where, what pedestals where, etc.  Although, this was unusually easy because I think Suzette actually saw how the gallery would look when she first conceived of this show, Mastery-in-Nature.

So, although Suzette had an idea of what went where, it still took a day to hang my wall sculptures and place the bronze on the pedestals and on glass shelves.

"Beach Party," "Tangled," and "Gnarly Pass" hang on the north wall, playing with Mark's bronze pieces on pedestals.

The second day Suzette and I tweaked, re-tweaked and tweaked it again.  We also adjusted the heights of wall sculptures and directed lights to create shadows and interest.

"Wild Game," "Spirit of the Bear,"
"Vortex Cycloid" make an interesting wall
grouping.  "Out of the Ashes" bobs
its head on the stand below.

The third day we made additional adjustments, set up a space near the entry for our reception area and got the table set up and entertaining items out and ready.  We also set our menu, got the groceries, wine and beer, ice and tablecloths and napkins.  

The next day was our opening at noon.  All was ready by the time the doors opened.  Floors were clean, the fountain in the southeast corner was adding the ambiance of water, and soft jazz played in the background.  

My 3-D sculptures and Mark's smaller bronze pieces
fit beautifully in a corner shelf.

These sculptures that had taken shape during months in the gazebo studio, that had taken every available wall space in our home after each was finished, that had revealed far more nuances than I originally perceived while creating them were now ready for exhibit, stepping out into the world.  I felt like a Mom waving goodbye to her kindergartner on the first day of school.  


The next two days were remarkable because people actually came to see the art!!  It was steady and encouraging and the comments were delightful!!  It was fun to see so many of the people I invited come.  (Since I really don't know many people in my new community, it was gratifying to see my family, neighbors and acquaintances make time to stop by.)

We had a lovely turn-out for our Saturday night reception.  The atmosphere was merry and enthusiastic.  Mark and his wife, Laurie, and me and my husband, Ken, were busy answering questions and providing additional information about our work.  The gallery looked stunning and the lighting was both inviting and highlighted the work.  

It was fun to see which pieces people responded to and which captured their imaginations.  The small 3-D sculptures were magnetic in their mysterious allure and the evening shadows added another dimension to the wall sculptures.

From east wall looking toward the front of the gallery and our reception area.

Even sweet "Embrace," got to slip the surly bonds of our family room to make it to the gallery floor.  The horizontal stick is not attached and is simply balanced on the tripod structure.  Although it was knocked a few times and fell to the floor, it survived and was still basking in all the attention it received.

The funny thing I didn't realize when I brought it over was that there was nothing to keep the legs from slipping on the gallery floor, unlike the carpet in our house that kept it stable.  I realized it was beginning to look like a spider on ice and brought some little rubber pads to give it better grip.  

Although we hadn't intended to extend the exhibit nor host a second reception, we did both.  The response has been so gratifying and encouraging.  I have strong possibilities to exhibit in two future locations and suggestions of additional people I need to contact.  

When I think that this whole endeavor began with sticks I could not resist after the flooding receded on the Cache la Poudre River, I am in awe.  

Mastery-in-Nature will continue to be in the Boardwalk Gallery until Oct. 6, 2014.  

Bit by bit putting it together...

I love the creative process.  

It's all that follows that makes me crazy.

When I was a beginning freelance writer I was told to always have the next story in my head, a couple in process on my desk and five "out in the field."

It was that "out in the field" that was the toughest thing for me.  

The writing is enjoyable.  Thinking about the next story inspiring.  It's the marketing of one's work that is the TRUE WORK.

Why is it easier to market or represent someone else's work?  I have a friend who is an artist and I extoll her work to all who will listen.  I've encouraged people to visit her website, talked about her process and proudly shown off the works I have have in our home.

But, when it comes to marketing and representing my own work, I get fluttery and flummoxed, tongue-tied and hesitant.  Before I make a "cold call," (and when you move to a new location it's ALL "cold calls") I remind myself that what I do is unique and wonderful.  My pep talk includes why I want others to see or read my work, why I believe in what I do and why it's important that I talk about it with all the passion I feel for it.  (That part about passion is REALLY IMPORTANT.)

I suppose it's a bit like public speaking, or glossophobia, which, I've read, is one of the biggies when it comes to fear inducing phobias--topping death, spiders and even heights. 

Fortunately for me, though, marketing myself (and even public speaking) becomes somewhat easier the more often I do it.  

As I have visited with gallery owners and exhibit directors about my flood stick art I have encountered unexpected kindnesses and interested and receptive responses to it.  

So that is my field work as I finish my current body of work with the final touches before my exhibit in a couple of weeks.  Suzette, the gallery owner, has sent out her press releases.  This week I'll begin personally dropping off my post cards with invitations to the exhibit (remember, I don't know that many people yet.)  Next week I'll begin to hang pieces in the gallery, which involves its own finishing touches.

www.boardwalkgallery.net/mastery-in-nature.html

www.tobybakerart.com

River Dragon

So, I've got sculpture ideas still swimming in my imagination, a body of work ready to hang and possible new places to exhibit and sell my work emerging.




It reminds me so much of that Barbara Streisand song written by Stephen Sondheim.




Here's one of my favorite parts:



Bit by bit, putting it together.
Piece by piece, only way to make a work of art.
Every moment makes a contribution.
Every little detail plays a part.
Having just a vision's no solution.
Everything depends on execution.
Putting it together, that's what counts!