I live in the woods. The closest ‘small towns’ to me are each 45 minutes away, in opposite directions, each in one of the counties that our house straddles. Each town has an arts council (I am a member of both) but each has a very, very different approach to how they handle business… and their artists. One of arts councils, however, thanks to nearby money and a reputation as an historical town, has a huge gallery space with an accompanying theater space. That said, they are not exactly ‘artist friendly,’which is to say that when local artists who are not member have events in town they have been asked to leave town.
The other, less monied, more rural council is massively artist-friendly, offering numerous opportunities for exhibition in local banks, etc. and has opened a co-op where less expensive crafts and art are sold. They also hold a number of events at which artists are invited to share their skills with the public.
Because town A had to fill space last year, I was invited to hold a retrospective there (60 pieces). But here’s the thing… I’m an abstract artist. Nothing sells. Ever. Anywhere. I had two one-woman shows in bigger small towns nearby but they were social commentary, about CSA. The works had been designed to inform, not to sell. Both openings were exceedingly well attended and that was tremendously gratifying.
So my joyful work, my passion, shows online and most of my work is sold via word of mouth from people who know me, who have seen my work online and from the online gallery. My biggest sale last year was to a visitor to my home who had come with a friend from Philadelphia, PA and left with 4 mixed-media works!
The only artist I know out here that makes money is a stained glass artist who does a lot of commercial work that is not local. I don’t care anymore. I’m fortunate that I don’t have to. I’m a long-distance counselor of sorts and my wonderful clients make it possible for me to paint what I want.