I can remember as far back as possible the desire to create, to make things. It was a time before the Internet, before social media, before email, before the digital era. My earliest influences were those I witnessed throughout museums, films, theater and concerts. I wanted to sing, then dance, then paint, until I was 18 and decided to follow photography. I never wanted to be anything else but a creative.
At 21 years old I left the U.S. to go live in Italy and had my first introduction to what it would feel like to approach the venues in which I had been inspired all these years. I would carry around a book full of photographs I had taken, walking into galleries and asking if I could show my art. Back then, there were less people who were trying to be artists; the celebrity aspect hadn’t become as apparent as it is now with our Internet capabilities. I was able to walk into some of the biggest galleries and talk to the directors about my work and receive feedback that has stuck with me to this day.
I remember the Hamilton Gallery in London that carries the likes of Annie Leibovitz and Herb Ritts among others. I walked in at 21 years old and showed my photos to the director of the gallery, and he took the time to sit with a young artist and offer some advice. He was present and generous, kind and interested. He told me that the work was good as a series of images, but it was important for each image to be able to stand on its own. This suggestion stayed with me over the past 15 years, and I look back on that moment with much appreciation.
There were others who were just as kind that have become some of the biggest galleries in Paris and Milan as well. Picture a young girl with a portfolio of photos going from gallery to gallery asking to show her work in person face to face, and being given time. When I settled into living in Italy, I received my first solo show by a gallery owner who I felt really understood me. He responded to my work and believed in me. We cultivated a relationship of support and collaboration in realizing several exhibitions from that point forward.
The gallery-artist relationship was something I was fortunate to experience at such a young age and at such a great time, before everything became translated through a computer screen. ~ Allen
The gallery-artist relationship was something I was fortunate to experience at such a young age and at such a great time, before everything became translated through a computer screen. Since then, my life as a creative has been filled by constant photographing and everything that encompasses the business aspects of what this is about. Reaching out to magazines, galleries, collectives, residencies, contests — anyone who will validate or advocate for what I’m doing. And what I’ve been doing is beautiful good work.
The Shift
Somewhere along the lines, something shifted in the art world. We’ve seen the relationship of patronage die out; now we’re seeing the relationships within the gallery world suffer as well. We as artists put our soul, our hearts, our time, our money, our thoughts, our sanity into what we do. We do it so that we can share something with the world that will offer an opportunity of connection. There seems to be a lack of respect for the artist who’s making the pieces for galleries to sell. There are plenty of spaces run by people who are truly inspired by the people they represent. They have built a relationship with their work and have a great respect for the artist who has created it, and the artist is able to rely on this gallery as a loyal representative.
Problem is… too many other galleries and collectives are struggling to get by on desperation rather than passion. There are so many factors that come into play here — you have the economy suffering and people buying less art, and budgets that don’t support the arts, so artists have become the ones supporting the arts. I think it’s time for a necessary recognition and respect of that. We as artists are putting our hearts on the line everyday when we make something and then again when we put it out to the world, and we do this to share something meaningful with the rest… all the while encountering mostly rejection, disappointment, doubt and the struggle of trying not to internalize that until it kills every creative fiber in your being — shit can get real.
Collectives and galleries don’t need to cater to the artist; I wish they would just be honest, realistic, sincere and passionate. Do you know how many galleries and collectives sell the work of artists and wait months to tell them of this, if they decide to tell them at all? I’ve had galleries keep my work without permission. I’ve had clients never pay me. I’ve been misquoted, and I’ve lost relationships because I asked questions. I have to make follow-ups after follow-ups in order to find out basic information about my work from people who are representing me. I’ve had work of mine arrive at some of the biggest exhibitions packed improperly and destroyed in the process of shipping with no responsibility taken on the gallery’s behalf. So much of my time is spent tracking people down to handle simple business.
Artists are better at business than we’re given credit for. Sometimes it’s the businesses that are bad at business. It’s made it hard for me to trust at this point, but I want to trust. As an artist looking into this “art world,” I see a lot of pretentiousness, celebrity seduction — I see gallerists and collectives paying attention to a dollar or trends, rather than any soul of an artist and their work. I ask myself, what am I doing? Why am I trying to be apart of something that I don’t relate to at all… in fact I somewhat disdain the ways in which it functions. I don’t know how to leave the one thing that I’ve loved for my entire life in order to do something else that will sustain me. Either I will figure that out or I will end up changing the way I function within this “art world.” Many of us will and should. My whole life I’ve been doing things on my own, cutting out the middleman… maybe it’s time I start to do the same in terms of selling my work.
Brandy Eve Allen was born in 1979, growing up between New York and Los Angeles. Using herself, those close to her and sometimes a memorable stranger, she is revealing the most sacred of relationships, that which we have with ourselves. Allen’s work is not culturally based, but rather embedded in something primordial and instinctive. Visit brandyeveallen.com and brandyevephotos.tumblr.com
Do you agree/disagree with Allen? How has the art world changed (for better or worse) during your tenure? Leave a comment below.
