I don’t want this post to be a philosophical expose on the difference between art and craft, but you know it’s going to turn into that, because yes, it’s that time of year. The time of year you ask: Why would I abandon my artistic vision just to cash in on the Yuletide impulses of the holiday consumer? Sure, I can make a few quick bucks selling ornaments instead of sculptures, if I just scale down what I’m already doing and maybe paint them green and red . . . What then? Can I even call myself an artist, or have I fallen to the status of the holiday crafter, also known as the seasonal sell-out? I mean, wasn’t this the whole reason I abandoned the art show scene, to begin with? No, the reason was because I never made much money at them, but also other reasons enumerated below. Obviously, if I do great in a summer art show this year, I’ll have a reason to write about how great summer art shows are. But that won’t happen, because I’m not applying to any summer shows. I am, however committing to a Labor Day weekend show, which is historically probably the worst weekend of the year for weather. There’s an exception to every rule, and in this case, that exception is simple; Do outdoor art shows in wealthy neighborhoods, even in bad weather. Art in the Village, held in Michigan’s old-timey, one-stoplight town of Franklin, is one such event. And to be honest, I like talking to anyone about my work, but when it comes to selling it, I’d rather be talking to five people with money to spend than a hundred people whose kids are knocking my stuff over all day.
I like Holiday Art Markets because the possibility of heat, rain, or wind is dealbreaker
Why do I prefer winter holiday markets over summertime art-in-the-park style shows? For starters, any summer event held outdoors occurs with the hope the weather will be good, meaning there’s a chance it won’t be good. I’m not going out for a round of golf, here, I’m spending time and money setting up for something that has a chance of not happening at all. Organizers of a Winter Art Market, on the other hand, know it’s going to be cold, so the event is held indoors. That is, unless it’s an outdoor winter art show. It’s quite possible those originated as a sick form of entertainment for wealthy patrons, with the freezing artists themselves serving as unwitting characters in a large scale, unscripted performance piece. Let’s see if Johnny the woodworker keeps sharing his space heater with Lucy the stained glass gal, after she made the comment about gays in the military… STAY TUNED!
Assuming you’re not going to fall for the outdoor-winter-market trick, and you’re focusing on a normal indoor holiday art and craft show, there’s one more thing to consider when choosing your how to spend that application fee budget. Do you have to actually be in attendance? The great thing about winter art shows is that frequently you don’t even have to be present. Wouldn’t you rather show your work for a month somewhere and collect some mailbox money, than sit in the rain for three days, with nothing to show except all your unsold work, and those bespoke hand-puppets you traded one of your pieces for?
I have made better money at winter holiday markets than summer art shows
2021 was the second year I had decorative bowls and ornaments for sale at the Holiday Winter Market, held by the Birmingham Bloomfield Art Center. Last year they even let me put an outdoor sculpture in front of the building for the month of December. The BBAC functions as a community hub for all things art related, from ceramics and fiber work, to metalwork and painting. When it comes to the annual Holiday Art Market, they are extremely professional and organized, starting with the online application process. Once your work is accepted (even with 200 local artists represented, competition is stiff) you’ll get the instructions for making an inventory sheet, which is required before drop-off. Once the art is dropped off, each piece is given a bar code so it can be entered into the inventory system. This is the part I like best, because it ensures proper accounting for exactly what was dropped off and what was picked up — a good thing, since I’ll be at home woking on the gigantic pastel eggs for the eight-foot Easter Basket I’ve been commissioned to build for a local convent. Over-the-top for nuns, I know, but they have the cash and they like to flash it.