In my earlier post I reviewed shows in Ocean City NJ (so-so) and Rehoboth Art League (weekend 1 of this 2-weekend show). Since then, I've learned what happens when you hold an art show but the city decides to close the major traffic artery that gets people there, and to be much more suspicious when you walk into a hotel lobby and find the desk clerk enclosed in a Plexiglass shield.
Notebooks ready, class? Let's begin.
Let's start with week 2 of Rehoboth Art League's two-weekend show (Aug. 17-18), held in the gorgeous surrounds of the League's property. As noted earlier, this is an expensive show to do--there is a $175 booth fee, $35 annual membership, and 25% of your gross sales is retained by the show.
The show, not you, runs the sales. Here's how it works: The show gives you a numbered sales book, with each form a triplicate: Your customer agrees to purchase, you write up the receipt with the customer's vitals, what they want to buy, the price, and your name and booth number. The customer takes all 3 slips to one of several treasurer's booths for payment. The treasurer keeps one; the customer brings the other two back to you. You take your copy and give the customer the artwork.
It seemed a daunting process when I first did the show a year ago. By the end of the first day, though, I concluded that the system worked beautifully: the customers didn't mind making an extra trip (the nearest processing booth was close at hand), and never, as I feared, did a customer change their mind before they got there.
At any rate, the first weekend of this year's show went well, but down about 25% from last year. Weekend 2 was about the same: down about 20% from 2012. Still profitable, to be sure--2012's RAL events were my strongest of the year--but not great, once the RAL took its cut. Their accounting department worked overtime to make sure artists got their checks from Weekend 1 upon their re-arrival. (Checks from the second weekend are mailed out promptly; mine arrived at my home about a week after the show.)
Most artists choose to do both weekends of this show, but not all. However, the "one-timers" are clustered together in an area that's off to the side, a bit. (From a show organizer's perspective, this design makes sense: This way the layout doesn't have to be redesigned to fill in gaps and avoid, say, two jewelers side by side.) There are the dreaded "MORE GREAT ART THIS WAY!-->" signs directing folks to them, but I've learned it's always best to be on the non-pointy side of arrows like that. Several of the one-timers agreed with me.
It's August, and hotels are pricey, of course. I stayed at a new Microtel about 40 minutes north, in Dover, and the accommodations were first-rate. An artist friend raved about the Comfort Inn in downtown Rehoboth Beach, saying it was very inexpensive for the season. (I've stayed there, post-show, and it was very nice.)
In sum, this is a great show to do for Delaware and mid-Atlantic artists, especially if you want to use the weekdays between shows as a beach vacation. It certainly brings a buying crowd. And because you are juried in for three straight years, you have the opportunity to build a following.
From Rehoboth Beach, it's a straight (and scenic) shot down US 13, through the Eastern Shore of Virginia, and on into Portsmouth for the Seawall Art Show. Or, as I call it, "The Gracious Show that Just Can't Catch a Break." The organizers and volunteers really appreciate their artists--greeting you like a long-lost friend when you arrive, and taking care of all the amenities--walking you to your booth space, sponsoring a great Saturday night dinner/awards ceremony, providing booth-sitters, you name it.
The weather was forecast to be spectacular--and it was, which seemed like payback for the last two years--2011's show was cancelled due to tropical storm Irene; the 2012 featured a buzz-killing tornado warning at the opening bell, and heavy rains moved throughout the area most of Saturday morning. Because streets in this low-lying metropolis are flood-prone, entire neighborhoods were closed off from arterials, and attendance suffered mightily.
That turned out to be the case this year, too. About three weeks before the show, the organizers received word that the Downtown Tunnel used to travel to Portsmouth from surrounding Virginia Beach and Norfolk would begin closing on weekends for major repairs. And as (bad) luck would have it, the work would begin on Show Weekend. The show organizers notified artists as soon as they heard the news, even going the extra mile (no pun intended) to communicate the impact on travel. They also included a list of Portsmouth hotels and special rates, along with a strong recommendation to stay in one of them. But there was no denying that it was tough for customers to get there. Show attendance, according to show veterans, was downdowndown from peak years.
And so were sales. I had misplaced my Square widget somewhere (a big tip o' the lens cap to fellow photographer and Square enthusiast Alison Thomas, who lent me her spare widget for the weekend). Unfortunately, I barely needed it: I didn't ring up my first sale until early afternoon, and wound up with only $300 on the day. Sunday brought somewhat better traffic and buying energy, and ultimately a decent day, but couldn't save the bottom line from taking a hit. Very few artists I spoke with did well; several 2-D artists zeroed despite very reasonable price points.
The dinner, held at the art association HQ only three short blocks from the show (outside the old county courthouse) is a well-run affair--the best such artist dinner I've ever attended--with great food and a generous awards program.
The show layout is a bit puzzling to me. The organizers jam artists pole-to-pole along the main street for only a few blocks, restricting your access to behind-the-booth back stock. (I moved mine into the booth.) The much bigger Gosport show (held in May) extends a number of blocks farther. Seawall wouldn't need all that space, but it would seem to me that extending another block would give artists enough room to pass between their tent and their neighbors, making it an easier show to set up and work at. Additionally, the spaces along the waterfront were extraordinarily breezy and chilly, even though at my booth, only 40 yards inland, it was warm and calm. Traffic along the waterfront was lighter, artists reported, and the breeze caused problems with displays throughout the weekend. Some artists DO ask to be placed there, but others did not, and, feeling detached from the main body of the show, were unhappy. Seems to me like some re-thinking might be in order.
There are some fine, fine artists exhibiting here (though a bit heavy on the photography) and a nice mix of fine craft and functional work, too. A few folks, to be sure, had decent shows, but the overall results were on the down side for most artists I spoke with.
It's a shame: The organizers and volunteers worked hard, communicated flawlessly, and deserve better than they got from the tunnel honchos. If I lived within an hour's drive of Portsmouth I'd try it again. But for me, this a show very much "on the bubble" for next year.
Past Labor Day weekends have been spent at the Kipona show in Harrisburg, PA. But the state capital is going through some lean, lean financial times, and the show reorganized itself this year to promote music, not art. It was never a big seller for me (typically 3 days' work to make about $2K) so I decided to skip it this year and headed instead for Paragon Art Events' Westhampton Beach Festival of the Arts.
Paragon prides itself on holding smaller "boutique shows" and (at least in my experience) eschews shopping-center venues for more rustic settings in parks, when promoter Bill Kinney can find them. As befits Kinney's background as a pro photographer, the shows also have lots of shooters. But he does a great job of choosing differing visual styles and execution, so I never feel as though I'm one of many doing the same thing. Other categories are similarly well juried; the quality is always high at a Paragon show.
For me, this was clearly a case of not carefully researching my market. My fine art wildlife photography is almost exclusively birds, most of them shorebirds. Although Westhampton passed the litmus test of being an upscale, Eastern Seaboard "beach town", more than a few artists at the show noted that the crowd was similar to customers in Boca Raton, FL, where my work sells poorly. (In fact, many visitors to my booth mentioned they wintered in that area.) And sure enough, although people were unfailingly polite, it was obvious that it wasn't their taste. Time after time, customers would ask, "Did you photograph that here on Long Island?" and no matter how I tried to phrase the answer, I was dead in the water. So...lesson learned. At least I made enough to recoup the booth fee and the hotel expenses.
Unless, that is, you consider a laptop stolen from my hotel room a "hotel expense." For I booked my stay at a hotel in Lakeland, NY, about 40 miles away from Westhampton. An easy drive in early morning, and under $100 a night--tough to find anywhere on Labor Day weekend.
But, as dad used to tell me, you get what you pay for. When I checked in on Friday, the desk clerk was surrounded by a Plexiglas wall on three sides. Weary after an early-morning shoot at Sandy Hook NJ (Ground Zero for Superstorm Sandy eleven months ago), I didn't question this, but decided instead to simply check the room for snipers hiding under the bed. Finding none, I figured all was well.
I packed in a hurry on Monday morning, and stacked my laptop and camera bags one atop the other to carry them to the van. It wasn't until I got to my next venue, on Monday night, that I discovered the laptop bag was missing the laptop and power cord. Somebody had gotten to them, but left the tablet device and a couple of books I'd packed there, as well.
I'd left the laptop bag ever so briefly by itself while I carried a suitcase out to the car. Had a guest in the adjacent room walked by and snatched it? Was it an inside job? The hotel management is reviewing surveillance tapes, so we may learn the answer. (And no, I'm not going to name the hotel unless I don't hear from them, or they turn out to be uncooperative, so don't ask.) But in the meantime, I spent three days buying a new laptop, changing passwords (I keep a master list in an encrypted location), restoring files from Carbonite backup, and installing new software. We are just about up to speed. But I will think twice about the necessity of taking my laptop on the road with me.
Sanderlings blast off from a beach at Sandy Hook, NJ, eleven months after Superstorm Sandy ravaged the beaches and towns. Work still continues to restore the area, but the park opened to visitors this spring. | Anyway, back to the show: The setup (Friday afternoon or Saturday morning) and teardown was piece o'cake: drive right to your booth. Parking was in a lot adjacent to the show (no need to even go out on the street). No artist amenities (there never are, at any Paragon show I've ever done). The quality of work is quite high. Attendance seemed a bit on the light side. Sales, according to a pretty darn detailed post-show report that Kinney always sends to his artists, were down, but by less than 10 percent, and it's clear that some folks had gangbuster sales, and others did well. I was just in the wrong place. So we dust ourselves off and move on. |
My last move of this all-too-long road trip was back to the Delaware shore, this time for the Bethany Beach Boardwalk show. This one-day event is a grueling setup, starting at 7 AM Saturday. The polite, omnipresent Bethany police work with volunteers and Chamber of Commerce staff to control access to the "drop zone" at the foot of the boardwalk. Then, depending on your specific location, you either carry your work up a wide set of risers to boardwalk level, or dolly up a long inclined plane. It is both a sprint and a marathon, for as soon as you are ready to go, if not before, the crowds arrive. In beautiful weather, they're strolling the boardwalk early, so I began getting peppered with questions as soon as I hung my first piece of art, a little after 9 AM. The event officially opens at 10, and runs until 5, and then you reverse field and schlep downhill, the intent being that everyone's packed up by 7.
Of course, that isn't physically possible in many cases, particularly for solo artists with large pieces of art and/or Trimline tents. But the cops and organizers graciously ignore that requirement--I was the next to last artist to leave, about 7:45.
What happened in between? Weather was Chamber of Commerce-perfect, and in early morning it seemed to be too cool for laying on the beach, so we artists were thinking it was going to be perfect show weather as well, with huge crowds and big sales. I had a big hour between 12:10 and 1:10 (love the hour-by-hour reporting on Square!) as early browsers finished their searches and made buying decisions. But after that, buying energy died off (not just with me, folks reported). And the late-day rush I have seen at this show in the past never materialized. I wound up with sales that would be a decent start indeed for a two-day show, but not great when it represented the grand total.
And therein lies the problem: The show has always been a one-day event, but after a weather cancellation a few years back rained ire upon the organizers, the show began holding out Sunday as a rain date. As a result, artists--at least, those who aren't local--must book and budget for two days' lodging and meals. And Bethany Beach ain't cheap, even though rates drop significantly after Labor Day weekend. So the P & L calculus is nearly as demanding as the show logistics.
I can't comment thoroughly on the quality of work, or sales throughout the show, because the pace was so relentless. There was barely time to even meet my neighbors! The "bandstand area" just above Delaware Ave. (the main street leading to the boardwalk) is wide, used for the 2-D artists and anyone with a 10x10 booth. North and south of this area, the boardwalk narrows; jewelers and other artists with open-air displays purchase 5x8 spaces for slightly less money.
There are also small spaces on Delaware Ave., which is crowded with small, beachy retail shops and eateries. I'm told that's the place to be if you have small, very inexpensive "impulse items."
I love this area, having spent time there as a child, and there is no shortage of places in the region to make good photography. The volunteers and staff are terrific. The booth fee is reasonable, and it's very well promoted, as you would expect from a Chamber of Commerce-run show. I've got a pretty nice market for my work, so I'll return as long as they'll have me (and my lumbar region holds out). But until and unless they expand the show to two days--which I've been told the new Chamber president definitely wants to do--it's best suited for artists with a strong back, lots of help, beach-themed art, and a free place to stay.
Bottom line on my summer: I gross more per show up here than I do in Florida, but the expenses (about $800/week) are eatin' me alive, putting lots of pressure on the good shows to be gangbuster ones. Is the solution to bring back a $20 bread-and-butter item, whatever that might be? Or to gin up an uber-high price item far beyond the $550 top end I have now? The answers await somewhere, but that'll sure be another post, for another day.
As for this one, the neighbor just showed up at the front door, and his brautwurst is on the grill. Class dismissed!
