On not being an artist

Image public domain from OpenClipart

A few days ago, I heard that a modestly funded residency I applied for had received over 250 applications. I'm grateful to the organisers for their transparency - and have adjusted my expectations of the outcome accordingly! They've clearly put a lot of thought into the application process: asking for the bare minimum they need to shortlist, while making it as accessible and easy as possible, so I have no grumbles with them. But it does indicate how few good-quality opportunties are available and how many artists are now competing for them.

No wonder so many artists are abandoning the profession (or even this entire Brexit-hobbled country) - often entering trades such as plumbing, carpentry, building, clothes-making, community organising, food and catering, horticulture, marketing, and painting and decorating ... Where they usually find their intelligence, creativity, energy and problem-solving skills are highly valued. Out in the real world, people expect to pay you for your time, materials and overheads, and respect you for being the expert you are. It's not all rosy, of course, but it is possible to earn a living and feel good about what you do.

Meanwhile I watch the demoralising privatisation of the art space and a corresponding drop in the quality of work that gains any traction. My Instagram feed is full of ads for self-funded 'residencies' in private venues; 'open' exhibitions charging extortionate entry fees; fee-based professional development opportunities promising to equip desperate artists with the skills to compete; and privately run galleries and venues pushing an agenda of exclusivity and privilege. And don't get me started on the way art has been colonised by bloated university departments pyramid-selling pointless qualifications. Any one would think artists are awash with money when, in fact, most are simply out of options.

It's not going to get better any time soon, so new strategies are needed. Even though I'd love to continue to share physical work in physical spaces, the opportunities to do so with proper support are becoming vanishingly rare - and eyewateringly competitive. My move towards film has been partly motivated by a desire to stop wrangling with gate-keepers and have more control over the means of production and distribution. Self-organised events will be key but, to reach larger, more international audiences, there are also thousands of film festivals and screenings.  

I've been pleasantly surprised by Film Freeway, a central hub for entering film festivals around the world. Yes, you still 'pay to play' as you would for an open exhibition but, if you're canny and hit earlybird entry fees, the costs stay low. Best of all, there's a very light admin burden: you upload your film and publicity materials just once, for free, and then pay fees as and when you choose to enter different festivals. No tailored proposals required, no images and statements in umpteen different formats, no delivery and collection days where you must turn up in person to hand in or collect your work. 

It's this kind of respect for the busy and precarious lives of people who make stuff that I'm looking for, whether it's the paid residency with a simple application process and transparent communication, or the application platform that alleviates my admin burden. I also really appreciate a thoughtful rejection message (because, let's face it, we see far more of those than acceptances!)

Curators and commissioners probably do need to think harder about what they are asking of artists when they advertise opportunities ... before we all become so exhausted we stop bothering to apply (no joke). Andrew Simonet is very good on the extractive nature of artist call-outs and what organisations might do to improve things.  

The Film Festival Experience

I feel privileged to have had my film The Porous Body shown as part of the Official Selection at Two Short Nights 2026. It's really thrilling (as well as totally overwhelming) to see your film on the big screen and to hear it relayed through a cinema sound system. It was also very instructive.  I've spent the weekend doing a few tweaks: correcting tiny mistakes that were suddenly evident in this new setting.

As an artist more used revealing my new work in gallery spaces, it felt incredible to have a room full of strangers sit quietly in the dark and give my film their full attention. By contrast, a gallery private view is mostly full of people standing around drinking wine and gossiping.

But here's the thing I have to accept about film festivals. My films may or may not find complementary company. The Porous Body was shown as part of a programme called 'Something Feels Off', which focused on horror, suspense and the uncanny. As soon as I saw the programme I knew that my low-budget, low-key, research-driven film was going to be swamped. The other films (all of them well-resourced dramas) were great but they were of a very different genre. I was proud of the integrity and simplicity of my work, but it simply didn't fit.

(By contrast, the film I made with Frankie Williams and Tim King as part of the Two Short Nights 48-Hour Film Challenge benefited enormously from being screened alongside similarly make-shift, chaotic works in an atmosphere of generosity and hilarity.)

This isn't a criticism of the programming as I understand how hard it is to fit everything together for a festival. There's no perfect way in such a crammed schedule to give each film the space it deserves. But it is something I need to consider as I continue to make submissions to different film festivals.