Point of View: The Art of Surviving Rejection

Artists need to have thick skin. The week I wrote this article, I had received three rejections from galleries. Ouch. My colleague, a talented photographer and art teacher, received four during the same week. We try to support one another, but the sting is still present.

Imagine what our young students are going through when their work doesnʼt get accepted. Many high-school students will experience their first art rejection under our watch. How can we prepare them to keep their heads high and walk steadily toward the next art opportunity knowing they may get rejected again?

A Tale of Rejection from Art History
Sharing with students the story of Manet and the Salon des Refusés is a great place to start.

Édouard Manet was all about the fresh perspective in both art and life. A bit of a rebel, he was surrounded by the many famous artists who inhabited Paris in the mid-1800s. But while the energy of the time was electric, the art world was still in a box. The prestigious annual juried art show, the Paris Salon, was regulated by a committee that only allowed entry to the same kind of traditional, academic art, year after year.

Then something shifted.

With the introduction of oil paint in tubes in 1841, painters were no longer forced to work in dimly lit studios. Painting outdoors (en plein air) and directly from life, Manet and his circle rejected the conventional ideas of the art establishment. Brushstrokes were looser, colors became bolder, and the artists focused on the changing qualities of light in their work. The Paris Salon jury rejected many of the works by these artists and used unusually harsh language in their rejection of one of Manet’s paintings.

Manet and his friends had been shut out, but the public complained, and the French government organized a separate show: the Salon des Refusés (the show of the rejected). The curious public guaranteed an audience—perhaps they too had grown tired of the restrained and academic painting shown at the Salon.

The Impressionist movement soon followed, and the art world exploded into a gorgeous array of experimental “isms” and offshoot movements. This defeat turned triumph was the impetus for the fame and glory of Manet and his circle—and it all started with rejection.

On Surviving Rejection
In addition to teaching art, I am also a working artist. I have had nine solo shows and been included in over 120 juried exhibitions. I create more than two dozen oil paintings a year in my studio on average. About every three years, I have a new series of work that I promote. I consider myself mid-career. There is always more to learn, to try, to improve.

I have shown at bars and clubs, libraries, and my basement during informal art parties. I have even been in prestigious galleries and art museums, but it’s never truly easy; there’s always a bit of a hustle. And this is exactly what needs to be communicated to students. Artists must be hungry and committed and be willing to pivot while remaining authentic. Maybe, even create and work with a bit of spite.

I keep a running tally on a spreadsheet of what shows I have entered, gotten into, and been rejected from. The rejections are highlighted in bright, angry cadmium red. Usually, I share this document with my advanced classes right before the Scholastic Art Contest results are posted, so they know their experience is by no means an isolated one. One of my strategies to survive rejection is to enter a lot of things at once because sometimes the law of averages will grant one “in” along with all the “outs.”

Closing Thoughts
I’ve always loved Manet’s story. Last year, I tattooed the phrase Salon des Refusés on my left arm as a reminder that something truly great can come from a rejection. Even famous and successful artists get rejected. All you can do is to keep creating, and do it for yourself, not for the prestige it might or might not bring you. Surround yourself with supportive artists and friends of the arts to keep your spirits up and don’t let anyone tell you your work isnʼt worthy.