What size should a print edition be?
I guess the question could be – how can you make a living if you only produce prints with small editions? After all, the major costs are at the beginning – the time it takes to come up with a working drawing, then the numerous proofs – all that ink and paper – and then the editioning costs themselves….
A small edition size of say thirty, might not be practical when sending out a new print to a number of commercial galleries (as most professional printmakers do) as you could very quickly run out of stock . And, of course, at this stage you may well not have actually sold any…
Small editions only work if you produce your prints quickly and prolifically and then by only using one lino block, etching plate, etc. Using several blocks, as I do, rather rules this out, as producing a multi-block lino is time-consuming and painstaking work.
I recently lowered my edition numbers from 100 to 75 after much internal debate – partly as I get really fed-up printing my editions up to 100 but also because some collectors won’t buy prints from large editions
One issue with this though is that to counteract the reduction in sales opportunities I should really raise my prices by 25% – the problem is that some (or most?) buyers may not appreciate the distinction…..

Alas, I have a couple of private views to go to in the next couple of weeks, one of mine, and one I’ve been invited to. I always feel I have to go, although I don’t enjoy them.
For a start, asking people to your pv is a minefield. You don’t want them to feel any obligation to buy anything – they probably wouldn’t come if they thought they’d be subjected to a hard sell. But if they don’t buy, then really what’s the point? Just a bit of moral support, I suppose, and a knees-up for one and all at your expense….
Even if it’s not your own exhibition, private views can still be a bit of a nightmare. If they’re busy, then the artist friend or gallery owner who’s invited you only has time to wave at you before going off to schmooze the next (proper) customer.
Then you’re left there looking at the work (which takes 15 mins max) and nursing a warm glass of something, which should be cold, all the while trying to look interested and full of admiration.
But believe me, it’s a thousand times worse if no-one turns up…..

I love working in my studio, especially when I’m planning something new. There’s nothing like pulling the first proof off the press, even if it’s a disaster. I like editioning too – there’s something very satisfying about a pile of finished prints, ready to go out to galleries (or more likely, ready to go straight into the plan chest).
But what I’m not so keen on is having to sell my own work. I don’t like invigilating at exhibitions or sitting at art fair stands.
I’m not a natural salesperson, and I find it all very tiring, especially when answering questions like “How long did that take?” or “When I was at school I was good at art” or even “Have you got that in a bigger size/different colour?” Every now and again I have to sit in the stock cupboard for a bit of a breather….
So anyway, I’m really happy to pay my galleries’ commission to sell my work and then I can go back to what I do best – hiding in my studio…..

After six busy years, I have left the artist run co-operative gallery, Greenwich Printmakers. I made a lot of great friends and had a really good time there.

However, being a member of a co-operative gallery entails a fair bit of work. Every artist has to staff the gallery for a minimum of one day a month, take on a role within the organisation (i.e. marketing, outside exhibitions, chairperson, gallery manager), pay a subscription, and attend planning meetings. On top of these commitments, you still have to pay the usual gallery commission (40 -50%).

In return, you get a gallery that keeps a reasonable stock of your work on display (you are allowed a certain number of acetated prints out in the browsers at all times) and there is a regular display of work on the walls (each exhibition generally lasts for a couple of months). In addition to this, each artist gets the chance to have an area of the gallery devoted to a small show of their framed work (on a rotating basis – how often it is depends on how many members there are).

All this is is fine if you’re just starting out, or have other commitments. Once you start to build up a good network of commercial galleries, it becomes difficult to justify devoting so much time to that one co-operative gallery – and of course that co-operative gallery in turn has to rely on every member pulling their weight and being equally committed.

But in the end, co-operative galleries don’t have any more to offer than commercial ones (after all, with commercial galleries, all you have to do is deliver new work periodically and they do the rest). Sadly, it became increasingly difficult to find the time needed to play an active and useful role within the Greenwich Printmakers organisation – and that was the problem in the end….