Rejection
As an artist, rejection is a experience we all must get used to. Be that entering exhibitions, applying for jobs, submitting written work and research, whatever. Sometimes our work isn’t the right fit, maybe not the right time, maybe there is stronger work from other applicants or maybe it just isn’t to everyone’s taste. A few years ago, a friend of mine, Christina Thatcher, decided her new year’s resolution would be to receive 100 rejections. I didn’t quit understand this at first but she explained that there was an average percentage of rejections and acceptances you would receive in X number of things you apply to. The more you apply, the more you may get rejected, but the more you may get accepted. “You gotta be in it to win it” as the saying goes. I thought it was a great idea. Not only does it force you into applying for things but through the practice of writing applications, you gain further insight into your own practice and thought process. Refining ideas, the way you speak about yourself and the work you’ve made. Maybe making connections you may not have before. And maybe gain a thicker skin in the process (I know I have!).
However, I don’t know if it is just me but an issue I have come to realise, after the application, and after rejections, is that no one sees the work that gets turned down; the 1st, 2nd or 3rd drafts. I don’t go on to share this work. Sometimes I pull things out of my archive and submit these or create new pieces and then feel so exhausted afterwards that I can’t bring myself to discuss the work more or look at it. Paralyzed by the fear of even more rejection if I put it out there again. So they become hidden away.
I received another rejection this weekend. I had applied to an exhibition on Travel. More specifically, longing for travel and reflection on times when we could. Applicants were to send in one image and a small text/narrative about the event pictured. I chose my trip to Japan about 5 years ago. I had picked up a roll of film thinking it was a roll of black and white 35mm film. How wrong I was. I had picked up a roll of Night Bird film that produced black and red images. Needless to say, when I got them back from the lab, I was simultaneously shocked and mesmerised. The photo and story were not successful but writing the application brought back fond memories of traveling with my Dad so I wanted to share it. Below is my entry and here in the link to the online exhibition. There is such a fantastic range of images, countries, memories and stories that were included so I would highly recommend checking it out!
Shinjuku, 2016
Shinjuku was full of nightlife and a street of eateries, nicknamed Piss Alley, had been described like “something out of Blade Runner.” So me and my dad headed there straight away. The warren of bars, Ramen shops and Yakitori sellers were lit with neon signs, each with a red and black lantern hanging outside the door. We withdrew from the darkness of the Tokyo night into the glow of the restaurant. Squeezing onto a narrow row of bar stools, we delighted in spears of grilled vegetables and charred chicken dripping in Tare, all washed down with local Japanese beer.