David Estey – How to Think About Curating

This is the last installment of a four-part series on how to exhibit, prepare, and promote your work, and now how to think about curators judging it. If you’ve ever entered a juried competition, you know the elation of being accepted and the disappointment of not being included. The purpose of this article is to focus on the jury process, put it into proper perspective and increase your chances of being accepted.

Caveat

I have been in dozens of juried shows, heard the rationale for work accepted, and curated some shows myself. For this article, I have drawn on lectures, workshops, research, professional curators, and nearly thirty years of twenty-four solo exhibits and over a hundred group/juried shows in Carolina, Maine, and the Mid-Atlantic states.

Curating–Art or Science?

Curating, judging, or jurying a show is somewhere between an art and a science. Curators do their best to be fair and objective, but of course, they can’t help but be subjective, for a number of reasons. The easy part is whether the work meets the required basic criteria of timely submission, is relevant to any stated theme, stays within the size limitations, and is properly prepared for presentation, all of which might be determined in advance for the curator.

Criteria

Beyond the minimum requirements, curators attempt to be objective and apply a justifiable criteria and rationale. A curator might judge the work by applying time-honored elements and principles of design—the relationships and treatment of color, dark-to-light value range, lines versus shapes or tones, textures, eye movement, balance, focus, mood, style, unity, etc. Other factors may be the creativity, originality and professionalism in execution, use of materials, technical skills required, and presentation. If the piece depicts a narrative story or represents realism versus abstraction, is it credible, a good likeness, and does it have depth?

The Wow Factor

The more these criteria are favorably addressed, the better the chances a piece will be accepted and become a higher candidate for award recognition. And then there is the “wow” factor. Sometimes, even without a remarkable showing on a preponderance of these factors, an artwork can be so compelling, extraordinary, and unique in its totality that its impact is something never experienced before and cannot be denied. Yet even this “wow” factor and all these universal criteria will be interpreted somewhat subjectively, depending on the curator’s background, experiences, and inherent preferences.

This once happened to me in North Carolina. I submitted to a highly competitive exhibit a large painting of a tongue-in-cheek tax form that had been part of a solo show in Philadelphia called “Inside the IRS.” It poked fun at the Internal Revenue Service and taxpayers alike. The juror, himself an accomplished painter, was taken with my sense of humor, firsthand knowledge of the tax system, textured surface and nuanced color in the black, blue, and white piece. He judged it best of show saying, “Normally I don’t lean in favor of the narrative but in this case, the message is so compelling and the piece so well painted, it cannot be denied.” The same might be said of the Robert Hamilton painting at the beginning of this article or Harriet Young’s “Elvis” that comes later.

Do Your Research

If you are thinking of submitting to a competitive show, you should learn what you can about the curator’s credentials, background, education, experience, personal artwork or collection, statements about art, prior curated shows, and reputation. Then decide whether your work will likely make a favorable impression on such a judge, no matter what the expected competition, which is also an important factor and often largely unknown. But even if you correctly gauge all these things, there are other more subjective factors to remember.

Subjectivity

Sometimes a curator’s personality or natural prejudices might come to the fore, like an appetite or distaste for abstraction, realism, advocacy, or a certain genre, for example. Depending on the overall look and quality of submissions, some curators may favor a theme, aesthetic look, or impactful mood for the exhibit—as an artistic statement in itself. In that case, a few otherwise admirable pieces may not fit in with what the curator has in mind. We can’t always know these things, unless the curator gives a statement or a talk afterward about the choices, something that is often very useful and informative for the next time. In any case, a curated show is often the result of a complex mixture of factors, many of which are subjective, unknowable, and the result of circumstances.

Things Can Change

I once entered and convinced an outsider-artist friend, Harriet Young, an amateur who didn’t consider herself an artist, to enter a highly competitive East Coast show at the Cheltenham Center for the Arts in Pennsylvania. I was there to schlep paintings for the curator, Assistant Director of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, as he made his choices. By noon, he had chosen an exhibit of forty artworks and we broke for lunch. My friend and I had been accepted. After lunch, the curator decided the work would look too crowded and chose to eliminate five more pieces. Mine was the last piece he removed, but my friend got in. I was very disappointed but very pleased for her. She was an amazing natural artist who belonged in the show.

Footnote: Tragically, she suffered a heart attack and died on Mother’s Day, five days before the opening. The show was dedicated to her memory.

Suzette McAvoy’s Advice

Suzette McAvoy, art consultant, curator, former Director of CMCA, and former Chief Curator at the Farnsworth Art Museum, agrees with my views.

All of the advice David has given is spot on. When submitting your work, it is critically important to follow the guidelines explicitly. Label your work exactly as requested and take note of the deadline for submissions. Having served as both a juror and an administrator for many juried exhibitions, I’ve never made an exception for late entries. It’s just not fair to all of those who submitted work on time. What I look for in submissions is a consistency of vision, style, and quality throughout the work. Oftentimes, it is work on a related theme or subject. I like to see the artist developing a body of work, even if I can select only one or two due to space limitations. Also, if your work isn’t selected for a given show, the submission process is a valuable opportunity to get your work seen by jurors and curators. Future show opportunities may come from it.

Suzette’s last point is a very important benefit to submitting your work, regardless of the immediate outcome.

George Kinghorn’s Perspective

George Kinghorn, Director and Curator of UMaine’s Zillman Art Museum in Bangor, expands curation to offer a valuable perspective that goes beyond just competitive shows.

As a museum curator, when visiting with artists for potential exhibition opportunities, I am looking for a defined point of view that is carried out over a significant quantity of works. A cohesive body of solid work is essential. I’ve been visiting artists’ studios, as a contemporary art curator for nearly twenty-five years, and the direct observation of the works, face-to-face, is the only method that is meaningful and works for me. Organizing an exhibition solely through viewing reproductions, might lead to some unhappy results somewhere down the line.

For me, the artist’s concept, and the technical skills needed to carry out the concept, must be in balance and not two opposing forces. High in concept, but low in mastery, typically results in mediocre work.

Excellent advice!

Grow from the Experience

Given the complexity and subjectivity of the jury process, as well as the universe of talent out there, you should always rejoice in what the affirmation, acceptance into a show and award selection represent—that someone with recognized credentials believes your work stands out and deserves acclaim among your peers. On the other hand, never despair over not being accepted at a given time for a given show, as it is almost impossible to know what it means.

The important takeaway from a competition should be to learn what you can from it and move on. Perhaps even more importantly, concentrate on competing with yourself, not others. That’s the kind of progress that really matters.

 

Image at top: Robert Hamilton, Unknown Title, oil on panel, 24 x 24 in., 2004 (photo: Thomas O’Donovan).