A lot of artists seem to go into a state of panic whenever they’re asked to write an artist’s statement. Sometimes they get defensive, saying things like “My art should speak for itself. If I wanted to deal with language, I’d be a writer.” Conversely, some artists see it as an opportunity to write at length about all manner of concerns, most of which have little to do with the actual work they’re presenting. I’ve been in a position to ask for, and read, a lot of artist’s statements. I’ve had to write them for my own work. I’ve even been asked to write them for other artists.

Here’s my take on the artist’s statement. As an exhibition director whose job it is to promote the work of artists, I can do a much better job of promoting you if you give me a little information about what you make and why. While it’s nice to think that your work should speak for itself, you might want to consider that editors, reviewers, juries, gallery directors and others who are in a position to exhibit or sell or adjudicate your work may be looking at works by several hundred or even thousands of artists at any given time. There are many occasions when someone might need a little more information than what is immediately visible in a photograph, or even when looking at the work itself. Sometimes a few words about the thought behind the work, or something about the process used to make it, can shed a lot more light than just the image itself.

That being said, there’s another side of the coin. The same editors, reviewers, juries and gallery directors who might want a few words for clarification almost certainly do not want to read several paragraphs – even several pages – of detailed explanation of your inspiration, your influences, your thought process, your personal history, your working methods, the subtleties of your medium etc. I’ve seen artist’s statements that went on for page after page, in an apparent attempt to include every random thought the artist had ever had about their work.

There are websites and blog posts devoted to the careful construction of an artist’s statement according to some precise formula – there should be X number of paragraphs, elucidating these particular points in this many words. Frankly, these sites look like a lot of nonsense to me. In an area so full of variety and possibility, it doesn’t make sense that all artists should be able to discuss their work in the same formulaic manner.

When it comes to my own work, I try to stick to the briefest possible introduction to what I am doing. I don’t think anyone wants to read a lot of detailed information about how I stitch leather, why I use a particular type of thread, or why I like to make weird animals or paint snakes. A couple of descriptive sentences about the overall content of the work I’m presenting, along with a short statement about my frame of mind, seem to be enough. A little touch of humor doesn’t hurt. I’ve gotten it down to a single, short paragraph that works well for most situations; sometimes I include a bulleted list of things or ideas or artists who inspire me.

There are a few things I would advise any artist to avoid at all costs when writing about their work:

▫ No jargon! None of that precious language you had drilled into your head in art school. If a gallery visitor, a juror or a collector has to consult a dictionary of specialized language to get through the thicket of your artist’s statement, you’ve failed to communicate. You may think you’ll impress someone if you can manage to work in a few phrases of art-speak, but you may find that they’re rolling their eyes instead of looking at your work.

▫ I would also avoid lengthy passages of personal biographical information. There’s a difference between a bio and an artist’s statement. Stick to the work itself.

▫ Anything more than a few sentences or a short paragraph about medium or technique seems like a lot. It might be best to save the detailed technical information for a gallery talk or lecture.

The art world is highly competitive. If you’re trying to get your work exhibited in galleries or museums, or placed in publications, or sold to collectors, you need to stand out among the thousands of other artists looking for the same opportunities. If you aren’t interested enough in your own work to come up with a few short sentences about it, why should anyone else bother to give it a second glance?