The slog to show
For those of you playing along at home, you’ll remember I recently came to terms with the fact that I am a toy photographer and that what I do, toy photography, might actually be perceived as a form of art by others.
The epiphany of appreciating that what I do might be art, couldn’t have come at a more opportunistic time.
Some time back I was shopping around for a potential gallery space for a prospective exhibition. Unfortunately that exhibition never came to fruition. However, one of the people I reached out to for advice contacted me the other week. She, let’s call her Sarah because that’s her name, asked if I was still looking for a space. I told her what I just told you, to which Sarah went on to tell me that she had recently opened her own gallery space, A Gallery in Preston.
Sarah then asked if I’d be interested in exhibiting my photos?
Now, you’ll remember, I‘d recently used the analogy of declaring war against my own mediocrity. Reports from the frontline were promising. “The self-doubt was heavily fortified. In the distance, just the faint red angry cracks of anti-insecurity bursts against a steel blue sky could be seen. The Commander says the battle force was close to neutralising all its targets…”
However, I’d only just come to terms with recognising that what I do could be regarded as art. The idea of having a solo exhibition of my newly accepted “art” filled me with familiar pangs of self-doubt.
I know the self-doubt that runs inside your mind
I know the self that treats you so unkind
Low Self Opinion – Rollins Band
As I was at war with my own insecurities, it seemed apt to rally the troops. I asked three friends I’ve made through toy photography, Mark, Christoffer and Timothy, if they’d enlist.
They did. Which bolstered my confidence.
But could I really commit to this? Could we really put on an exhibition of our photos of toys? Did we dare put our collective insecurities on public display? Could we actually display our toy photography in public? Do we dare show our photos of toys outside the toy photography community, leaving them exposed to critique from the unacquainted?
Just do it, just do it
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it
Do it – Rollins Band
We’ve only just settled on dates. Money has only just changed hands for the rent of the gallery space. We are still in the early stages of planning.
In upcoming posts, I’ll be sharing my experiences in moving from shooting for a little square on a phone to shooting for printed pieces to hang on a wall. I’ll share my thoughts on the adjustments in the decision making process when planning shots for an exhibition compared to sharing on social media platforms. I’ll recount the decision making process in selecting the shots I do to be exhibited. I’ll relate how we managed coordinating an exhibition with artists (that still sounds weird to me) located at four different locations around the world. And I’ll share any things that arise in the planning and organising, that might either be of interest, or of benefit to readers considering doing something similar.
This way, even if no one turns up to show, you guys might get something out of it!
Congratulations on the exhibition! Once your photos are in frames and on walls in a gallery it’s definitely art 🙂
Despite a good few minutes searching, I’m still not 100% certain which country that gallery is in. I’m guessing it’s not the Lancashire city in the north of England, the only Preston I know. Cross referencing road names on Google maps leads me to think it might be in Australia?
Thanks Mike. The upcoming exhibition is both daunting and exciting. There’s so many new things to think of, and so much to organise! Although, I’m sure all of this will seem somewhat insignificant once we’re all standing in front of our photos hanging on the walls. The gallery is indeed in Australia, Melbourne Australia, to be precise.