It Pays to Advertise

I made reference to Google Adwords and Google Analytics when I announced the launch of my new web site a few weeks ago. As luck would have it, I received a promotional offer in the mail last week and took advantage of it to create a new Adwords account with the $75 credit it provided.

During the weeks following its launch, my web site had typically been receiving a meagre 3 or 4 visits per day, largely by way of the link displayed at the top of this blog. With my advertisement running over the past few days, however, Google Analytics shows that this figure has risen to almost 200. While this exceeds my expectations by a huge margin and is undeniable proof that it pays to advertise, it's a useful reality check to delve into the information made available by Google Analytics. My ad is not specifically targeted at a particular geographic region and not all the keywords I originally nominated are strictly art-related - for instance, keywords such as "wildlife" and "animals" were in my list. While it's true that clicking on my ad is a conscious action, it can't be assumed that the same people whose primary aim it is to find web sites dealing with animals and wildlife are also potential art collectors. With that in mind, I've reviewed my keyword list and have removed any I feel are too general. I expect visitor numbers to drop accordingly, but as compensation I know my advertising budget will stretch further and my money will be more effectively spent.

I don't quite know what to make of the fact that a large majority of visitors are from India. My initial reaction was to consider removing that country from the list of targeted locations, but doing so might just highlight my ignorance of the vast changes occurring in that country. I know there's an exploding population within India which can best be described as the new middle class. I have little idea what their spending inclinations are and I'm the first to acknowledge that I'm as much in the dark where that's concerned as I am on many other topics! Given that I'm experimenting at this stage, I'm happy to sit tight for a while longer and observe what happens where sales are concerned.

And yes, of course, I'm acutely aware that converting web site visitors into customers is another "art" entirely!

Cheers

Pete

Proof!

The process of turning my paintings and drawings into prints is proving to be a longer one than I'd anticipated, but it's an interesting learning experience nevertheless.

This is the first of my recent art works which I've chosen to have professionally photographed and scanned with the intention of marketing limited-edition prints. With such a narrow range of colours in this drawing, it's approaching the final saleable image fresh from the camera. Even so, there is still a process of to-ing and fro-ing to go through over the next week or so as my chosen digital imaging company colour-corrects and compares a series of proofs with the original drawing. Despite all the technological aids at their disposal, this is still largely reliant on a visual comparison. The more highly-coloured works undergoing the same process are much further off the mark at the first proofing stage and will require more significant adjustment.

After this morning's visit, I now have a greater understanding of the process and I anticipate several more trips to their premises before I'm happy with the results. In much the same way that there's some purely subjective point at which a painting is declared "finished", it will be a matter of judging when the digital images are close enough to the originals that further tweaking can't be justified.

Interestingly, the proprietor remarked that some artists choose to make major adjustments at this stage; the contrast or colour saturation in the digital image might be modified to differ markedly from the original, or the artist may even favour a totally different colour bias. Regardless of what's possible in theory, I'd like my prints to be as close a representation of the original as I can manage - I feel that to do otherwise would be verging on dishonesty. Or am I missing something? What do you think?

Cheers

Pete

Encounter at Dusk - Red Fox

I spotted this fox out of the corner of my eye as Sandi and I drove back to our camp at Yardie Creek after a late afternoon outing to photograph kangaroos and euros. The light had faded to the extent that we’d given up on 'roo photos for the day, but I decided that as I don’t often encounter foxes I should take my chances with the camera regardless of the poor light. Of course, zoom lens or no zoom lens, this was never going to be as easy as winding down the car window and clicking away while he posed obligingly.

Sandi pulled onto the shoulder of the road and, seeking to emulate a dashing and much younger David Attenborough, I leapt out of the passenger's seat dramatically (I've always wanted to do that!) and took off after Reynard as he turned in the direction of the nearby escarpment. I must say, he didn’t seem too concerned at the sight of an unfit, middle-aged Two Legs pursuing him with a camera and he trotted off sedately, safe in the knowledge that I’d only ever head him off in my dreams. Even in the dim light I’m sure I detected a grin on his face as I stumbled over the rock-strewn slopes. The degree of difficulty was enhanced by the fact that in the increasing gloom I wasn’t game to take my eyes off him in case he melted into the rocks and shrubbery for good.

My meagre reward for risking life and limb was three or four not-very-good photographs, the last of which features his rear end as he finally grew tired of our little game and disappeared over a ridge of rock, leaving me out of breath and grinning stupidly below.

Where the resulting painting is concerned, I began it with doubts in my ability to portray the scene successfully given the state of the light at the time and a poor reference photo. However, with the encouragement and guidance of e-friend and fellow blogger Dean Richards, I've exaggerated the contrast a little and will try to suggest a last glimmer of sunlight so that the fox - and the viewing public - are not left entirely in the dark.

My rationale for not featuring the fox more prominently has to do with the circumstances under which I spotted him; he allowed me a glimpse at best, which is often my experience with the animals I encounter. In that context then, the painting reflects this reality and reinforces the fact that we don't always find wildlife when and where we expect to.

With luck I'll complete this painting tomorrow. As a final step, I'll adjust tonal values - hopefully without losing the sense that the setting is at dusk.

Cheers

Pete

Web Site Launch

Although its galleries are sparsely populated at present, I'm pleased to announce that I finally have a web presence. Please enter my web site and take a look around. Don't forget to wipe your feet, and DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!

Over the coming days I'll review the content and will no doubt edit some of the text with a view to optimising my site's placement by the various search engines. I'll also add my return policy and insert some additional scripts so I can analyse site traffic using Google Analytics, a free and very useful tool. Google Adwords is a "pay-per-click" service also worthy of consideration; I know it's yielded huge increases in site traffic for my other business web site.

Cheers

Pete

Art and Bill Gates

"I am picking up a lot of unease from artists about going with commercial galleries, myself included. I think the internet and blogosphere is the direction a lot of artists are going..."

I received this interesting comment from April Jarocka a couple of days ago and, with my own web site on the launch pad, I'm prompted to outline my thoughts concerning galleries and the less traditional, web-based method of presenting and marketing my art.

In doing so, I accept that I'm unqualified in any practical sense to offer an opinion on the effectiveness of the internet as a marketing tool, or whether it can successfully replace the more traditional gallery outlets. If nothing else though, it might be an interesting and timely exercise to record my thoughts so I can reflect later on how well thought out (or how naive and foolish) they turn out to have been!

My last foray into art as a part-time commercial venture was around 15 years ago. Apart from some local art shows, I sold through a couple of city framing retailers masquerading as galleries and enjoyed a good relationship with them. I had no prior expectations of them and they managed to sell most of the work I presented them with relatively quickly, relying only on passing trade. When it came to framing my work, which was usually Conte or acrylic on paper, I felt it was worth the added expense of a double matte and, together with glass and mouldings, the final cost was far from trivial. I was happy to accept the galleries' advice when it came to setting prices and was elated enough just making a sale. In fact, my prices were such that with gallery commissions and the aforementioned framing costs taken into account, it might have been more lucrative flipping burgers.

Fast forward to 2009 and the ground rules have changed markedly; as April points out, the internet is the new paradigm. Add in a sprinkling of suspicion and a dash of cynicism which inevitably comes with age and experience, and I find the gallery option much less appealing than it once appeared. In my mind, pricing my art realistically remains a black art and I would almost certainly accept the advice of the gallery, as I have in the past. However, with the world economy still shaky, I wonder if their need to turn over stock and generate cash flow would outweigh any desire they might otherwise have had to put my interests up there with their own. Harking back to those intimidating framing costs, the issue of dead money tied up on gallery walls is a further disincentive.

If you’re reading this, you already know the power of the internet. Political and geographical boundaries are rendered (mostly) irrelevant and our target audience extends to the far reaches of the globe. With a potential market such as this, I’m opting to sell my work online, unmounted and unframed, which removes one of the objections I have to selling through galleries and greatly simplifies shipping. The other advantage of a web-based shop front is the opportunity to offer originals and limited-edition prints from a single point of sale in an effort to cater to all budgets. My belief that signed and numbered prints are a hugely attractive marketing option again stems from the computer age and is reinforced by my experience as a software developer. How successful would Bill Gates have become if his team of developers had created Microsoft Office, or any of his other products, and the code and copyright had then been sold to a single purchaser? Likewise, I don't think I should limit myself to selling original paintings and drawings through a gallery when my digital imaging company of choice also offers a “print-on-demand” service and are happy to run off single prints as and when required.

I doubt that anyone questions the wisdom of marketing via the internet, however, it would be great if those of you with practical experience could chime in and offer up your thoughts on the relevance of galleries in the big picture, and the extent to which they've played a role in your success.

Cheers
Pete

The Road to Mastery

Gravity Feed - Avon River

Graphite and Conte on toned paper

I'm coming to place tremendous value on feedback offered by fellow artists who have seen my work on this blog. As I don't exhibit my work and have not reached the point at which I'm offering it for sale, it's my only source of constructive criticism and is therefore of enormous value. A couple of people have even been generous enough to email me privately with a detailed and honest assessment of my recent work and have suggested ways in which they feel my paintings could be improved. Often, they've clarified what I vaguely suspected in my own mind, but sometimes their insights have been more revealing. Either way, their comments offer me a way forward.

On that note, I liked an anonymous quote I read recently which relates to our progression towards mastery - if such a thing exists. I wonder how many of us will arrive at the final destination?

1. Unconscious incompetence
2. Conscious incompetence
3. Conscious competence
4. Unconscious competence

If you're reading this, the chances are we're on the same journey of artistic discovery. I know which level I'm at - do you know where you sit on the scale? If you're not fortunate enough to be undertaking formal studies, where do you go to seek a candid assessment of your latest painting or drawing? What practical measures are you putting in place to address your shortcomings in order to improve your art? Whose standards are you striving to meet anyway - fellow artists, the art-buying public, your teacher, art critics or purely your own? As an artist, what defines success in your eyes?

Cheers

Pete

Out of the Shadows - Eastern Reef Egret

I chose medium-rough 300gsm Saunders Waterford watercolour paper for this painting and coated it with acrylic sealer after I'd completed the preparatory drawing. I enjoy the feel of painting on a sealed surface but I also like the underlying texture of the watercolour paper - the combination of both seems to suit the way I work.

Out of the Shadows - Eastern Reef Egret

Acrylic 20" x 20"

I thin the paint with a 50/50 mix of water and binder medium and, for objects like the rocks in this painting, apply it with a scrubbing action, vigorously pushing the brush bristle-first rather than drawing it across the surface smoothly in the normal manner. This results in a stippled appearance which helps to establish texture and contributes to the illusion of detail. It usually takes several applications of these transparent washes, allowing each to dry completely, before I'm approaching the tonal value and density of colour I'm looking for. As I apply each overlapping layer, I tend to notice shapes emerging in the paint which are suggestive of the texture of the pock-marked limestone rocks. Left undisturbed to dry, I can then begin to enhance the rock texture more deliberately, using the same thin paint mix. I don't feel the need to use white in my colour mixes as the paint is thin enough that the paper shines through, much as it does when using watercolours. I use a hairdryer to speed things up between each layer, being careful not to move the paint around in the process.

Because the paint is heavily diluted, I work with my painting laid flat rather than using an easel. If I have a problem with this arrangement, it's that the horizontal painting surface tends to accumulate the usual painting paraphernalia and I need to tidy up a little before I can step back to assess how things are progressing. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing!

Cheers

Pete