I got on the mailing list for this show, forgot about it and missed the entry dates in August, then got an email inviting me to the opening on 29th September.
The rule of thumb for entering any open show is this: just as writers should never send a story to a magazine they don't enjoy, painters should never enter any show which contains stuff they don't like. It's common sense. If you don't like what they do, chances are the converse also applies. And you should never pay money to have people you don't know reject your work.
At first I wasn't going to go. But then the email mentioned free drink...
I took the bus to town on a Saturday evening and strode up to the castle grounds. It's always a pleasure to visit. The gardens are well worth a look, and the castle has exceptional views over the city.
The exhibition occupied three rooms and seemed smaller than the sprawling, overstuffed shows I'd been to in previous years. It may well be that more work was tucked away elsewhere - I didn't ask - but all I saw was in those three rooms.
I had to take particular care not to step on some of the works on display. There were a number of floor mounted pieces that barely reached knee height, including some displayed under what looked like huge sheets of plate glass. The potential for gruesome death and huge lawsuits seems to have bypassed the usual health and safety checks, but don't let that put you off going. Just walk like you're in a mine field and you should be okay.
Among the paintings I stopped to take a closer look at was Tanya Foster's 'Kyrenia', which you can see here:
The others were Giles Woodward's 'Step up to a dream', which nicely captured the look of neon at night, and someone whom I can only hope is called Steven Ingram, because I can barely read my own spider-track handwritten notes, whose three small paintings of shop fronts, each about the size of a paperback book, impressed me no end.
As for the rest - well, the older I get, the less I'm prepared to invest in anything. If a novel doesn't hook me on page one, I won't read it. If a film looks like it's going to follow all the usual Hollywood cliches to a predictable ending, I'm out of there. If any art demands that I puzzle over its meaning or suspend my tolerance for things I find ugly or irritating, my eyes are going to slide right over it.
In the end, I can only relate to painters who deal with the way things look. That's my personal preference. It's like Match.com; if you've got tats and a nose ring you won't make my shortlist. Doesn't mean you're a bad person; just means we won't get on. Similarly, if you do video installations or pile stuff in gallery corners, chances are I won't even notice your work. There were some photographs in there too, but I didn't look at those either.
Having gone the rounds a couple of times I decided to visit the permanent collection. I found they'd been digging through the cupboards since my last visit. Their very nice Stanley Spencer was still on display, but my favourite Marcus Stone was missing, while a number of works I'd never seen before had been dusted off and brought out. I noticed a good Laura Knight, who easily passed the horsey test with a circus scene. I may well be going mad, but I seem to remember a large seascape in their collection which was also absent: a Victorian era coastal scene, looking out to sea in full sunlight. There was a rowing boat out on the water, and in the foreground a large boulder, with children playing around it, and a little girl in period dress leaning against it. Or maybe it was in the Walker in Liverpool, and I'm getting confused. If it rings any bells, I'd be grateful for title and painter, if you happen to know.
(Edit: It's Golden Prospects, St Catherine's Well, Land's End, Cornwall, by John Brett, painted in 1881. Oil on canvas, 3' 6" high x 7' wide. You can order a print here.)
Anyway. I claimed my free red wine, sat in the restaurant and drank it, then wisely eschewed a second glass, being half cut, and made my way home.
And now I know better than to apply next year, having seen the kind of work that mostly gets shown. At some point, when I've done enough good paintings to make it worth my while, I'm going to have to sit down and work out a list of galleries and open shows I could usefully approach. Remember, getting into a show or gallery is easy. It's painting that's hard.
* If you're planning to visit the castle to see this show, remember that Nottingham's Goose Fair, which is also worth a visit, begins next week on the 3rd of October. You don't need to bring your own goose. In fact it's probably better if you don't.
The rule of thumb for entering any open show is this: just as writers should never send a story to a magazine they don't enjoy, painters should never enter any show which contains stuff they don't like. It's common sense. If you don't like what they do, chances are the converse also applies. And you should never pay money to have people you don't know reject your work.
At first I wasn't going to go. But then the email mentioned free drink...
I took the bus to town on a Saturday evening and strode up to the castle grounds. It's always a pleasure to visit. The gardens are well worth a look, and the castle has exceptional views over the city.
The exhibition occupied three rooms and seemed smaller than the sprawling, overstuffed shows I'd been to in previous years. It may well be that more work was tucked away elsewhere - I didn't ask - but all I saw was in those three rooms.
I had to take particular care not to step on some of the works on display. There were a number of floor mounted pieces that barely reached knee height, including some displayed under what looked like huge sheets of plate glass. The potential for gruesome death and huge lawsuits seems to have bypassed the usual health and safety checks, but don't let that put you off going. Just walk like you're in a mine field and you should be okay.
Among the paintings I stopped to take a closer look at was Tanya Foster's 'Kyrenia', which you can see here:
The others were Giles Woodward's 'Step up to a dream', which nicely captured the look of neon at night, and someone whom I can only hope is called Steven Ingram, because I can barely read my own spider-track handwritten notes, whose three small paintings of shop fronts, each about the size of a paperback book, impressed me no end.
As for the rest - well, the older I get, the less I'm prepared to invest in anything. If a novel doesn't hook me on page one, I won't read it. If a film looks like it's going to follow all the usual Hollywood cliches to a predictable ending, I'm out of there. If any art demands that I puzzle over its meaning or suspend my tolerance for things I find ugly or irritating, my eyes are going to slide right over it.
In the end, I can only relate to painters who deal with the way things look. That's my personal preference. It's like Match.com; if you've got tats and a nose ring you won't make my shortlist. Doesn't mean you're a bad person; just means we won't get on. Similarly, if you do video installations or pile stuff in gallery corners, chances are I won't even notice your work. There were some photographs in there too, but I didn't look at those either.
Having gone the rounds a couple of times I decided to visit the permanent collection. I found they'd been digging through the cupboards since my last visit. Their very nice Stanley Spencer was still on display, but my favourite Marcus Stone was missing, while a number of works I'd never seen before had been dusted off and brought out. I noticed a good Laura Knight, who easily passed the horsey test with a circus scene. I may well be going mad, but I seem to remember a large seascape in their collection which was also absent: a Victorian era coastal scene, looking out to sea in full sunlight. There was a rowing boat out on the water, and in the foreground a large boulder, with children playing around it, and a little girl in period dress leaning against it. Or maybe it was in the Walker in Liverpool, and I'm getting confused. If it rings any bells, I'd be grateful for title and painter, if you happen to know.
(Edit: It's Golden Prospects, St Catherine's Well, Land's End, Cornwall, by John Brett, painted in 1881. Oil on canvas, 3' 6" high x 7' wide. You can order a print here.)
Anyway. I claimed my free red wine, sat in the restaurant and drank it, then wisely eschewed a second glass, being half cut, and made my way home.
And now I know better than to apply next year, having seen the kind of work that mostly gets shown. At some point, when I've done enough good paintings to make it worth my while, I'm going to have to sit down and work out a list of galleries and open shows I could usefully approach. Remember, getting into a show or gallery is easy. It's painting that's hard.
* If you're planning to visit the castle to see this show, remember that Nottingham's Goose Fair, which is also worth a visit, begins next week on the 3rd of October. You don't need to bring your own goose. In fact it's probably better if you don't.
