Does combining an author reading with a show of one’s art
sound like a good idea? I thought so. These are two of my favorite things, so this
January of 2016 I threw a popup 48-hour event. The gallery of my favorite
artist building in Sausalito, CA became available through an amazing bit of
happenstance, friendships, and goodwill. I finally had 10 paintings I felt were
strong enough to show and a book in prepublication. The timing was perfect to
take the leap and organize my first art show/hybrid.
At some previous author events, I’d read in cafes, where one’s
finely-crafted words are suddenly screeched out of existence with the frothing
of each cappuccino. I figured I wouldn’t have a decibel dilemma reading in a
gallery. Construction was underway just down the hall from the space where I’d
be having this art show, but I figured it would be minimal over the weekend.
I contacted two photographers (also artist friends) who had
recently traveled to Iran, the setting for my new novel, The Secret of the Cylinder. They agreed to amend my show with
prints of their work, and their sales would be donated to a charity. Another
draw! Another win! Collaborative co-creation!
Since I had the time, I was able to plot and plan
extensively; researching YouTubes on everything from the proper packaging of
artwork for shipping to the 10 best and worst things to do at author readings. Now
an expert on glassine, artist tape, and which side of the bubble wrap touches
the paint, I also know to read for only ten minutes and make lots of eye
contact.
I created an online presence for my paintings through ArtFinder.com,
which required scribing each piece’s story, price, dimensions, and all kinds of
other metadata, as for a book. I created a list of Suggested Questions for the
Q&A part of the program after the reading (also useable for future radio
interviews). Building content became easier and easier as I reviewed my
process, inspiration, and challenges that went into every painting and chapter.
Duel bios, Facebook pages, new Twitter and Instagram accounts…my fourth book
was going to get the finest delivery into the world I could offer.
Just like a well-written story is reworked, layered, put
down, then revisited, so I also did these things for every canvas until they
each became part of a cohesive offering to the world.
As always happens, no matter how well you prepare, something
comes out of left field. One of the photographers dropped out the day before
the show after some impressive histrionics. The other became my hero; hanging
his work precisely and beautifully using his carpentry background, and offering
kind words to my battered spirit. (After the fiasco, it took singing my Power
Song several times, casting a circle, calling in my allies, cleaning my chakras,
transforming the heavy energy many times, and downing much EmergenC and Rescue
Remedy to put me into a state where I felt the show could go on without me
being a quivering wreck.)
Also on the day before the show, we had a rainstorm of the biblical caliber.
Something Noah would find impressive. I set up the room myself. Initially
carrying one box at a time in one hand and an umbrella in the other, I eventually
gave up and tossed the umbrella; going for the drowned rat artist look.
Luckily, with all the physical labor, I stayed warm in the unheated building,
despite being soaked to the bone. (I decided years ago that extreme
precipitation is a harbinger of good luck as I met my ex-husband on a blizzarding
February evening, and have been offered great jobs on downpour days.)
The day of the show, my second hero, my partner, whisked me
to Costco to stock up on the much-needed wine, cheese and crackers, then helped
extensively with opening day setup. With Chardonnay chilling, the Afro-Cuban
All Stars playing, and the lighting set “just so”, we began greeting guests,
friends, and local artists from the building as they filtered in and floated
around the gallery space. The energy built; the event’s own organic momentum
grew and flowed beautifully through the reading. Guests offered astute questions
(we discovered a link between the Cyrus Cylinder and columns in India that also
contained a sort of declaration of human rights, placed in a central location
of a community space). Four hours flew. And then it was time to close the doors
for the day and head off to a local restaurant to recap the high points over
champagne.
On Day Two of the show, another hero helped with setup and then
the fast-track breakdown (just 45 minutes because we knew where everything was,
how to do it properly, and all the doors and elevators were working…plus it wasn’t
raining.)
Besides some earnest hammering at the neighboring construction
during the second day’s reading, the show went without mishap.
Lessons learned: You can never prepare enough. Rehearse what
you’ll be reading many times, so it sounds smooth in front of an audience and
you don’t fumble the alliteratives. Be kind. Always. Forgive yourself and
others for being imperfect. Enjoy your party!
