An exhibition in St Ives
and my wolf in the gallery.
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Now on to this week’s musings…
When I opened the doors to my exhibition in St Ives, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Kate (my lovely contact with the National Trust) and I had been installing the exhibition all day, before I ran home to quickly get changed and grab the cakes and tarts I had baked in the days prior. The exhibition had been a success at Botallack, and we had promoted its move to St Ives everywhere we could think it of. However, it was a cold November evening in a town which though insanely busy during the holiday months becomes quiet and sleepy in November. I had no idea if anyone would come. In fact, I was fairly convinced no one would. So convinced I regretted ever planning an opening night event.
Then 6pm came, we opened the doors to the Crypt Gallery, and people started arriving. And kept arriving. And didn’t stop arriving until after 8pm when the final visitors of night left. At one point we counted 50 people all talking, drinking, eating, and looking at my photographs. I said a few words, Simon from the Trust spoke about the fire and the experience of trying to contain it, we raised our glasses in thanks to the rangers and firefighters. I had a seemingly endless stream of conversations about the project, climate change, wildfire ecology, analogue photography. It was a truly incredible night and utterly blew me away. I am so grateful to every single person who came, both friends and strangers.
The reason I had planned for the opening night event was that, in my past experience with exhibitions, people come to the opening and then, in the day following, you sit in an empty gallery for however long you’ve hired it. But those experiences have all been in London. This was my first exhibition in St Ives, and it turns out St Ives is different.
The Crypt Gallery, which is part of the St Ives Society of Artists, is near the harbour, almost but not quite on the beaten track. We opened on Saturday night, and the exhibition was open for the week following. I went down every morning, unlocked the doors, turned on the lights, and settled in to invigilate. And every day people came, from those just walking past to those who had seen it advertised and made the effort to visit. I had a steady stream the entire time I was open. My visitor’s book is filled with comments from both locals and holiday makers, all writing beautiful, kind, and encouraging words about my work. By the end of the week, we’d had 213 people and 4 dogs visit the show.
One of the things I was told when studying for my M.A I that you can’t make art in a vacuum. This is true. You need to exist in the world to find inspiration, to see what ekse is being made, to research and visit and read and discover. If you don’t your art will suffer. You also need to exhibit. It’s a hard thing to do, exhibitions are complex beasts with many moving parts. I haven’t had that many, and sometimes wonder if they are actually important. Last week proved just how essential they really are. It was a success beyond my wildest dreams, and the enthusiasm people showed for the project, and my plans to keep photographing the headland as it recovers, has reignited my inspiration.
I am excited to keep visiting Zennor, and excited to work on new things. And I am excited because Finn came to the gallery, and was brilliant, happily sitting with me for hours at a time, slowly working his way towards learning to settle in new spaces. My wolf in the gallery. What a future we will have.
Beautifully written, as always! And congratulations!