In my last post, How Writing About Your Art Deepens How You See It, I wrote about how the act of writing helps artists clarify what they’re trying to say with their work. Once that clarity takes shape, the next challenge is learning how to communicate it—clearly, honestly, and in your own voice.
For years, artist statements were written in the language of academia—dense, abstract, and often inaccessible. They sounded polished but rarely personal. Today’s collectors don’t want theory. They want connection. They want to hear a voice that feels human.
Shedding the “Grad School” Voice
If your statement reads like it belongs in a term paper, it’s time to loosen up. Replace theoretical language with plain speech—the kind you’d use if a visitor asked about your work in your studio.
Instead of:
“My work interrogates the intersection of organic matter and existential impermanence.”
Try something more like:
“I’m drawn to the way time changes everything—how materials weather, crack, and reveal new forms.”
The second version invites understanding. It speaks with, not at, the reader.
Balancing Clarity and Poetry
Honesty doesn’t mean you need to sound clinical. The best statements balance clarity with rhythm—language that’s readable yet alive. A single image or phrase can stay with a viewer as powerfully as a painting itself.
A useful guideline: if you can’t picture what your words describe, they’re too vague.
The 30-Second Version
You should be able to summarize your work in a single sentence—the kind that would fit comfortably on a wall label or business card. Doing so forces focus. When you know how to describe your art simply, everything else—your longer statement, your conversations with collectors—flows naturally from it.
Editing Until It’s Short Enough to Read, but Rich Enough to Feel
Write freely at first, then cut. Trim words that sound impressive but add little meaning. The goal isn’t brevity for its own sake—it’s clarity. A reader should finish your statement feeling something, not deciphering something.
Aim for about 150–200 words. That’s long enough to convey emotion but short enough to hold attention.
A Statement That Connects
A strong artist statement does more than explain—it reflects the artist’s relationship with their medium. Consider this thoughtful example from sculptor Bob Card, whose work demonstrates how clarity and authenticity can coexist beautifully:
Artist Statement
My sculptures begin with what I call character wood—pieces marked by grain, burls, cracks, and even rot. What some see as flaws, I see as stories. These marks reveal a tree’s life: drought, disease, insects, and time. Like people, trees gain character through adversity. That parallel is central to my work.
I don’t sculpt recognizable forms. My goal is to evoke a feeling—something quiet, contemplative, and emotional. I let the wood lead. I rarely begin with a fixed idea. Instead, I respond to what’s there. The process is subtractive and irreversible—each cut matters. There’s no undo button, which makes the work intimate, even risky.
Most of my wood isn’t bought from lumberyards. The wood in a typical hardwood store doesn’t have the depth of character I’m seeking. I source it from small independent mills or directly from people removing trees. After storms, I’ll take a chainsaw and gather fallen limbs. What others discard, I see as potential. These remnants aren’t waste—they’re stories waiting to be revealed.
When someone leans in or reaches out to touch a piece, that’s a moment I treasure. Wood invites touch. It carries warmth and memory. That physical connection tells me the work has resonated. I’m inspired by Mark Rothko’s emotional fields, Mondrian’s refined balance, and George Nakashima’s reverence for wood. My work isn’t representational, yet viewers often find echoes of ancient artifacts or hidden faces. I don’t mind. It means something stirred.
Each sculpture is a quiet conversation between artist and material. I hope it invites reflection—on nature, resilience, and the beauty found in imperfection.
This statement doesn’t rely on jargon or art-world clichés. It’s clear, specific, and deeply human. It gives readers just enough to understand the artist’s motivation while leaving space for their own response.
When Words Deepen Connection
An artist statement can be as essential as the art itself. When written with sincerity, it becomes another form of creative expression—one that helps viewers step closer, feel the texture of your ideas, and connect with the heart behind the work.
Collectors don’t fall in love with phrases like “explores the juxtaposition of form and void.” They fall in love with the way you see the world—and with the words that help them see it too.