I want to start applying for artists’ residencies and I don’t know where to begin. Is there a good place to find a listing of residencies, what are the best ones, and what advice could you give for putting together a stunning application?

Residencies can be an artist’s joy: time and space (and sometimes technical facilities) to make your work, a community of dedicated peers, and stimulating conversation. But beware: they can also be financially- and emotionally-draining environments where a bunch of alcoholic drama queens keep you up all night, every night, for a month, so you need to do some very careful research before you pack your bags.

There are a number of online resources for finding residency programs, from collective listings to the programs’ own sites, so begin with some basic searches. I also suggest that you start semi-local: you might have a better chance of getting in, and you’ll be able to test the waters without having to sublet your apartment and move to another state or country for a few months. Try googling “[your state] artist residency” to see what comes up—my trial search for California returned a ton of opportunities. To find international residencies you can use the same google search with the name of the city or country you’d like to go to, or you can find sites like ResArtis.org and Residency Unlimited that list international residency programs and their deadlines.

Ellen Kooi, Nagele – wachthuis, 2011. Fuji Crystal Archive, Plexiglass, Reynobond, 31 ½ x 72 ½ inches

Which are the best residency programs? Well, that depends on what you’d like to accomplish. If you’re looking for some quiet time away from the pressures of everyday life, then you might prefer a cabin in the woods. If you’re desperate for interaction and dialogue, then you should look for something workshop-based or community oriented. If you’re hoping to crank out a large amount of work in a short amount of time, then you need to find a space that has the facilities you require to complete your project. I suggest you check out this HELP DESK column on finding the right MFA program (scroll down to the second Q&A)—my advice for pinpointing “the best” applies to your question, too. In either case, the bottom line is that you need to be honest with yourself about what’s right for you at this stage of your practice. No single residency program can fulfill every desire, so narrow your list of goals down to one or two and then investigate residency opportunities to find the best match for what you hope to achieve.

Incidentally, a good match will also make a stronger application and you have a better chance of getting in if your goals fit closely with the program’s own mission. Conversely, if you’re a studio painter applying for a residency dedicated to experimental social interaction, you have what my friend Sylvan once dubbed “a rat’s-ass chance in a gator pit” of being accepted, so don’t waste time and energy—and maybe application fees—applying to residencies that don’t correspond to your aims.

Ellen Kooi, Montallese – crossing, 2009. Fuji Crystal Archive, Plexiglass, Reynobond, 23 ½ x 50 inches

A great resource for information on applying to residency programs is Chapter 6 of Art/Work. This section of the book discusses considerations for your own practice vis-à-vis different types of residency programs, and it reviews the basic parts of an application or proposal. It also has quite a few crucial pointers for completing a successful application, such as this one:

“Many programs will tell you what they focus on when evaluating applications. Of all the directions to follow, these are the most important. They’re not as easy to spot because they’re not necessarily written in the form of direct directions but rather as ‘criteria.’ You might see something like this: ‘Artists’ Fellowships are chosen based on the single criterion of work that demonstrates a compelling vision as defined by the assembled panel’s collective opinion.’ Note the words single criterion. They’re telling you up front that there’s only one thing that matters…[t]his program will make a qualitative assessment of your work, period. You therefore need to spend the most time on that part of the application and submit the best-quality images you can.”

Another source for information is Trans Artists, a self-described “knowledge centre on cultural mobility, with a strong focus on artist-in-residence opportunities.” Check out the Artist in Residence page which describes types of programs and residency experience; and the Checklist page, which has information that will help you with your research. Good luck!

Your counselor, hard at work.

What is the proper payment scheme for commissioned art? Also, what is the proper way to formalize the deal on payment? Finally what’s the allowable time table for the artist to finish the art? Is it proper to follow up? I had a great deal from my favorite artist last February, after he agreed to make a piece for me at a price that I can afford. We agreed to meet up and discuss the subject, but now he’s not contacting me.

Have I ever told you how much I love written contracts? No? Well, let’s sit down and talk about it now.

Here are two things I believe: 1.) a good contract protects both parties equally; 2.) the written contract is your friend. From the limited information in your query, it’s hard for me to know if you’ve already given this artist money or not, but it sounds like maybe you have. If that’s the case, and you can’t get a hold of this person over email or Facebook or telephone, it seems like you have two options: walk away or sue to get your money back. But since I’m not a lawyer, I’m going to go back to my real job of answering your more direct questions so that you can avoid disappointment in the future. So, from the top:

John Callcott Horsley, The Banker’s Private Room Negotiating a Loan, 1870 (image: www.oceansbridge.com/paintings/artists)

What is the proper payment scheme for commissioned art? The proper payment scheme is the one that you and the artist decide on together. Some artists need the money to buy supplies, others want payment on delivery just like a regular sale. Still others will prefer a deposit and payments along the way. It depends on your budget, the artist’s fiscal needs, and the comfort levels of both parties.

What is the proper way to formalize the deal on payment? What’s the allowable time table for the artist to finish the art? Both parties sign a written contract that states the preferences decided on above, with an additional timeline scheduling payments and delivery dates.

Is it proper to follow up? Did you give this person money? Then hell, yes, it’s proper to follow up! The contract that you wrote will have email addresses, physical addresses, and telephone numbers on it, so following up will be easy. Of course, you’ll want to be diplomatic about any lapses (that is to say, “Just checking in…” instead of “Where’s my damn painting?”—you never know when someone may have tripped over the cat and sprained a wrist), but in the end you’ll have a contract to use as a negotiating tool if things go awry.

John Trumbull, General Washington Resigning His Commission, n.d. (image: images.fineartamerica.com)

Of course, this advice only touches on the financial aspects of commissioning. Readers who have been with me from the beginning will already know that I’m a fan of the book Art/Work by Heather Darcy Bhandari and Jonathan Melber. Even in the absence of kickbacks and nepotism (I’m not related to either of them, I swear), I recommend that you buy a copy of this book and read “Chapter 11: Loans and Commissions,” which outlines in greater detail the ins and outs of commissioning, including a sample Commission Agreement on pages 228-229.

I’m sorry you’re in a muddle with this artist, and I sincerely hope you can work it out, and also that it doesn’t keep you from commissioning work in the future. There are plenty of hard-working and responsible artists who would love to be asked to work on a commission. Good luck.

Openings: not as bad as you think (image: nateinabox.blogspot.com)

I am not great in social situations and everyone keeps telling me that if I don’t go to openings I will never get any opportunities. I have a hard time forcing myself to go to shows and when I do I usually end up standing off to the side not talking to anyone. People usually tell me to “just talk to people” but that is much easier said than done. What should I do?

Art openings are like family holidays: you either love them or loathe them. If you’ve got a cool family filled with smart, fun people, the holidays rock. If you have to make small talk with a room full of strangers you see once a year, well…no wonder everyone talks about the suicide rates in December.

As far as I can tell, there are three components to enjoying art openings: don’t think about what you’re wearing, bring a buddy, and go often. Let’s look at each one individually. Your initial goal is to stop feeling self-conscious. It’s hard to forget about yourself in a room full of people who are first and foremost visual; the trick is to remember that everyone there is wondering if they wore the appropriate shoes. Obviously, impressions count and you want to fit in, but stop thinking that everyone is looking at you and assessing your right to be in the room. They’re not. In fact, they might even feel the same way you do: awkward and alone.

Bringing a buddy can be key, especially when you’re starting out. You’ll have a built-in means to chat about the artwork, and then afterward you can go to the bar and gossip about the prices and what sold and who else was there. A buddy will also introduce you to the people he or she knows (if any) and you can start to make some connections within the community in your area. One note of caution: don’t lean too hard on your buddy. You should take the opportunity to split up for at least part of the evening, or else you might find that your friend is the only person you spoke to for three hours. For that, you can stay home in your sweatpants.

My best shoes (image: magtrends.com)

Yes, “just talk to people” is easier said than done, but you have to suck it up and start somewhere. Try asking questions, “Do you know who made that very dark video?” at a group show, or “Does the artist always work with toilet paper?” at a solo show. Practice talking to people in the most inane ways: ask the gallerina if openings are always on Fridays or how long the gallery has been in operation. Ask a stranger for the time or where to find a bathroom. It doesn’t really matter what you say: if you are shy and want to change, you have to practice. It’s going to hurt at first, but like most new habits, it gets easier and easier as you go.

The real key to enjoying openings is to go often. You start to see the same people, and then you start to talk to them, and then you make new friends. When you know you’ll see your friends, art openings become a pleasure: each is a little party filled with people that you like and want to see, a three-hour holiday of good cheer to balance every month of hard work and solitude. So put on your best shoes and oil your jaw hinges, and we’ll see you downtown.