“Call me immediately,” said the e-mail from a reader of my radio magazine. Because it appeared urgent, I was curious and phoned, only to get an earful about a story we had done about this person’s competitor and why the story should have been about this person instead. The rant went on for 10 minutes about how this person was the pioneer and had done amazing things, and our story was misguided because the person we had featured was not as strong as the person I was talking to.
I was told, “You should have known. It’s your job to do your homework and know who is doing what.”
Wrong.
Though I respect people whenever possible, and though I let this person’s rant go on and on because it’s important to talk things through, the one thing I feel that was wrong was assuming that we, a press organization, should have known about this person's accomplishments and the status of their career.
I did not know. My editor did not know. No one on our staff knew.
Why is this important for you as an artist to understand? Stick with me for a minute.
You see, people like this person, who was upset that we did not give the coverage or story that was “due,” assume we know about all their accomplishments.
We all get very close to our own world, and sometimes we assume that others know about us because of all the efforts we have made.
But this person had made no effort to make us aware.
As publishers of three art magazines, two art newsletters, and some radio industry publications (Artists On Art, Fine Art Connoisseur, PleinAir, PleinAir Today, Fine Art Today, Radio Ink, Radio Discussions, Radio + TV Business Report), I can tell you that we are fairly busy people. We see and hear from hundreds of artists, we are flooded with press releases, exhibition information, and images of work, and we cannot catch it all.
And though you may think you have done a good job of keeping someone informed about all the things that have happened in your life and career, there is a strong chance that they're not aware, even if you’ve made contact a couple of times.
In the case of this person, I’d only met and talked with them one time, by phone, two years ago. I had no way of knowing about what had been accomplished — it had never been shared with me. And even if it had been shared once, chances are it wouldn’t have stuck.
The point of all of this is that “you should have known” is not true. Assuming an editor knows your history and story, and that when something comes up for a feature, they will think of you — that’s assuming an awful lot.
Though I’m sure I’ll regret saying this because it means I’ll get more calls and e-mails, it is your responsibility to make editors and writers aware of you. Just as I suggest for advertising, you must make contact with some frequency and consistency, and never assume anyone knows about or remembers you.
Imagine being a gallery owner who receives 50 e-mails a day from artists wanting to be in the gallery. Most of those messages are deleted without so much as a look. But if they see you consistently (and you don’t become a “stalker” by sending too many e-mails), they might start to become aware of your name, and at some point might look into things a little more.
This is true in advertising with potential buyers, it’s true with galleries, and it’s true with members of the press.
Never assume anyone knows anything about you.
Always assume the responsibility to make sure others know.
It’s a delicate balance because if you’re in touch too often over too short a time, it will backfire. Unfortunately, some will pester editors, get indignant, and demand coverage after even frequent contact hasn’t worked, and end up burning bridges — which could result in no future coverage. After all, press isn’t a given. It’s not a right, it’s a gift if you find an editor willing to give you coverage. (You may be the only one who thinks you deserve it.)
The other reason repetition is important is because editors are often working on features or special issues they need to fill, and you want them to think of you when they need you. For instance, if an editor comes up with a feature on waterfalls, they may think about all the waterfall painters they know and contact them for images. They may not think of you unless you’re already top-of-mind. If that editor recently heard from you and saw your waterfall painting, you might get included.
There are lots of ways to become top-of-mind, starting with meeting someone in person at an event. Still, I meet hundreds of artists, and I can’t remember them all. So what can you do to stand out and be memorable in that brief moment? Handing me a business card or a postcard with your work is a start, but frankly, not a great one, because my pockets are filled with cards after an art event and most just end up in a folder somewhere. Though it may get referred to some time, it’s not likely to create top-of-mind awareness.
If you’re just one of many, you don’t stand out, and if yours is one of 30 cards I receive in a night, it will just blend in. You need to be unique, to stand out and to get noticed in a way others won’t. That means you need to be prepared if you know you’re going to meet people who might be able to help you. You’ll need to come up with your own unique method of standing out — and doing so appropriately. For some artists, it’s about branding with the way they dress. (“Remember me? I'm the one that always wears Victorian dresses.”)
Don’t do what everyone else does. Zig when they zag.
Remember, there is no “should” with editors. This person said, “You should know because it’s your job to know.” Maybe that’s even true, but editors are human and can remember only so much.
All the “should” falls on you. It’s your career, so you should take the responsibility to make sure others know about you.
