My First Art Show

There’s something a little surreal about seeing your paintings hanging on a wall outside of your studio for the first time. For so long, they exist in the quiet familiarity of my own space—unfinished, reworked, stared at from across the room, and sometimes questioned entirely. Then suddenly, they are framed, hung, and being looked at by people you’ve never met. That was my experience at the Plymouth Art Show, my first art show as an artist, featuring the work of the Des Moines based Saturday Sketch Club.

Being part of the show was exciting in a way I don’t think I fully anticipated. There was the obvious thrill of seeing my work displayed, but there was also something more personal about allowing these pieces—things that began as ideas in my own head and hours spent alone with a brush—to exist in the world and speak for themselves.

One of the most memorable parts of the show was sitting on a panel and talking about art with the other artists. One question I was asked was whether I felt an obligation to create art that is unsettling or intended to provoke a reaction.

I realized that, for me, the answer is no—not unless nostalgia itself can be considered unsettling.

I don’t feel a need to shock people with my work. What I want is to make them feel something. I’m interested in the feeling of a moment: melancholy, remembrance, hope, fear, longing. With portraiture especially, I’m not as interested in simply reproducing a person's likeness as I am in suggesting something about what that person might be feeling. I want the viewer to bring their own emotions and experiences to the painting and find something there that resonates with them.

If someone walks away from one of my paintings feeling something they didn't feel before they encountered it, then I consider that a success. Indifference is the only feeling I consider a failure.

Looking back on the show, I think that may have been the most meaningful part for me—not simply having my work exhibited, but realizing that these paintings can have a life beyond my studio. They can start conversations. They can stir memories. They can make someone pause for a moment.

And perhaps that is one of the strange and wonderful things about making art. You spend so much time alone creating it, but eventually, if you’re brave enough to put it out into the world, it becomes something you share with other people.

For my first show, I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to that experience. I’m grateful to the Saturday Sketch Club for the opportunity, and to everyone who stopped to look, talk, ask questions, or simply spend a moment with my work.

It was my first exhibition, but hopefully not my last.