Debut Solo Show Diary: Volume 5 - The Show

Well, that was fun—and over in a flash. It's hard to put into words what my experience of putting on my first show was like, but I'll give it my best shot.

Wherever you read up about solo shows, especially debut shows, you'll see that they mark a significant milestone in an artist's career. It's hard to imagine where mine could sit in the career landscape, given that it only wrapped up yesterday, and milestones generally feel grander with the perspective of 'what was' with 'what has come to be'.

The opening night was an absolute blast. The love and support were more than I've ever experienced for my art and I want to take the time to thank everyone that came. It was amazing to be around likeminded people and to be with old friends and to make new ones!

The strangest thing that I struggled with was people congratulating me. I don't know why that stuck out and why it still bothers me in some way. It doesn't offend me or anything like that, more that it feels at odds with my general mentality—the good part and perhaps the not-so-good part. Why should I be congratulated? I've made art and now I'm showcasing it. That feels like the natural progression of an artist, and by doing so, I'm simply functioning, right? That sounds rather ungrateful, even in my head as I write this I'm wincing ever so slightly. I can assure you, I'm anything but ungrateful. I suppose I feel like I still have so much more to do before I can contemplate congratulating myself, let alone accept them from others. I hope that lands in the way I intend, rather than sounding like a total bellend. 

I don't want this post to focus too much on any negatives, as the whole event was enjoyable and brought me so much positivity - but there is always room to look back retrospectively and see if there are any learning points for myself, and if I can pass something on to those reading this who may be embarking on something similar themselves. Something I could have improved upon is taking more photos and videos of the people I spent time with, the counter to that is that I was too busy chatting away, enjoying the company of the room and living in the moment - I'll have to look at how I approach this issue next time, as it seems like an easy fix.

What else do I have to say about this whole experience? I was nervous leading up to the day, I was a sweaty mess within 3 minutes of arriving at the gallery (see the above photo) but now I feel mildly addicted to the whole shindig aspect of an exhibition. I loved people seeing the new pieces for the first time and how they reacted—in some cases, it was the first time I saw some of the work framed and up, which was exciting as hell, as they looked fucking badass. Maybe I could look at the concept of a 'show' a little differently next time. I have some ideas, but they may be too grand for someone starting out like myself.

It's funny, as being a designer, I'm used to thinking something up in my mind and then going and creating it and seeing how people respond to it. But it feels richer and more intimate when I make art. The personal impact it has on myself when I make something, then put it up on walls for people to see is far more profound. Maybe that's because as a designer, you're creating for someone else, in their voice, with a muddle of opinions and ego's to balance. Whereas with art, it comes from me, my mind, and my voice - it's pure and authentically simple. And when people see the outcome of that, it exposes me—no matter how ridiculous the subject matter or visual aspect of the art. Maybe I'm getting too deep into things here - just keep it light, James. 

In all seriousness though, all the hard work, the long days that bled into nights, the moments when things went tits-up (pun intended) and the moments when a new idea popped into my head that inspired a quick pivot, all those things backed by the adrenaline of knowing they were all going to be collated in one big show is all the drive I needed to push through and lead me to do it again - maybe next year though.