Selling your work · Getting into galleries
What a gallery is actually looking at, and why a cohesive body of work beats twenty good unrelated pots.
How to approach one without wasting the only introduction you get. A gallery buys a maker, not a pot: twelve pieces that look like one person made them on purpose, a retail price set so that half of it covers your cost, a one-page wholesale sheet, and one email on a weekday. It is the last door in the selling order, and it opens more easily with a year behind you.
Four steps with a tick list at each: the body of work, the price, the sheet and the visit, and the email. Six mistakes, most of them about going too early or on a Saturday, and four videos, two of them arguing wholesale against consignment.
This is the short version: the body of work, the price, the sheet, the email, each with a tick list. The consignment detail, the visit notes and the questions are in the comprehensive version.
Read it, then watch it
Why this is written down and filmed, both.
Getting into a gallery is one idea and one document. The idea is that a gallery buys a maker, not a pot, so a cohesive body of work beats twenty good unrelated pots, and the document is a one-page wholesale sheet, and both fit on a page you read before the email. What a page cannot give you is the wholesale-against-consignment argument heard from both sides, or a shop owner explaining what lands in her inbox and what she deletes, and that is the videos.
Use both, in this order
Read what a gallery is looking at. Make the body of work, which takes a year. Watch the approach and the pricing argument. Write the sheet. Send one email, on a weekday.
The whole idea
A gallery buys a maker. Show it twelve pots that look like one person made them on purpose.
A cohesive body of work: one clay, a small palette, a few related forms, made again. A retail price set so half of it covers your cost, held everywhere. A one-page wholesale sheet. Visit as a customer, then one weekday email with twelve photographs and the sheet, one follow-up, then leave it. Terms in writing.
The five-minute version
The whole approach in six moves.
If you have sold to a shop before and you just want the shape of it, this is the shape of it. Everything below is these six moves, slowed down and with the places they fail marked.
Before the email
What you need before the email.
Six things, and the first one takes a year. The sheet is the one most makers never write, and it is the one that gets the order.
Twelve pots that belong together, twelve photographs, the cost envelope, a one-page wholesale sheet, a visit, and a one-page agreement.
Step one
Make a body of work, which is the year before the email.
A gallery is not buying a pot. It is buying a maker. It wants to know a customer could recognise your work across a shelf, that you can make it again, and that March looks like September. Twelve pots that look like one person made them on purpose beat fifty good pots that do not.
Cohesive means one clay body, a small palette of two or three glazes you have fired enough times to trust, a few forms that relate to each other, and the same finish on every foot and rim. It is the opposite of a shelf of experiments, and it is almost always the result of a year of making the same three things, per the selling lesson, until they stopped being borrowed and became yours.
Galleries come last in the selling order for a reason. A market tells you what sells; an online shop tells you what photographs; a year of both tells you which three things are yours. A gallery approached before that gets a shelf of experiments, and a no from a gallery is a door that is hard to reopen. Line the twelve up on a table and look: if a stranger could tell they were one maker’s, you are ready.
What one voice looks like on a shelf
Walk a good gallery and look at any maker with more than three pieces on the shelf. The clay is the same on every one. The glazes are two or three, and they repeat. The forms are cousins: the mug’s handle is the pitcher’s handle, the bowl’s foot is the plate’s foot. The feet are finished the same way and the rims have the same weight. None of it is dramatic, and all of it is why a customer who bought a mug last year comes back for the bowl. That is the thing a gallery is looking for, and it is built rather than decided.
Step two
Set the retail price so that half of it covers your cost, and hold it everywhere.
Wholesale is half of retail, and the gallery doubles it back. So the retail price is set so that half of it still covers your cost and a margin from the costs lesson. If half does not cover your cost, the pot is not ready for wholesale: make it faster, in bigger batches, or price it higher everywhere.
Everywhere is the word. Your online price, your market price and the gallery’s shelf price are the same number, because a gallery that is undercut by its own supplier stops stocking that supplier. Most potters who raise their own retail to make wholesale possible sell the same number of pots, and now a shop sells them too.
Consignment runs a different sum: the gallery pays you a share when a piece sells, often sixty percent to you, and the retail is still yours to set. The two videos on this page from Jess Van Den and David Clark argue wholesale against consignment from both sides; the short version is that wholesale pays up front and consignment is how many small galleries start with a new maker, and either is fine with the terms in writing.
Step three
Write the one-page wholesale sheet, then visit the gallery as a customer.
The sheet turns a maybe into an order. One page: your name and contact; each form with a photograph and dimensions; wholesale and suggested retail beside it; a minimum order; lead time; how you ship, per the packing lesson. Most makers do not have one, and a gallery that waits a week for it has stopped waiting.
Then the visit, before the email, as a customer with no box. What do they stock, and at what price? A gallery of twenty-dollar mugs and a gallery of a hundred-dollar mugs are different conversations, and yours belongs in one of them. Who shops there, and would they buy what you make? Is there a maker on the shelf whose work yours would sit beside without either looking wrong? If the answer is no, the email goes to a different gallery, and that is a saving.
The photographs are the twelve from the photographing lesson, on white, with one in use, at a link rather than as attachments, because a gallery looks at photographs before it reads a word. Badass Creatives’ five steps below are most of this band in eight minutes.
Step four
One email on a weekday, one follow-up, terms in writing, then deliver.
You get one introduction. Do not spend it on a Saturday. A weekday morning email: two lines about who you are and why their shop, a link to the twelve photographs, the sheet attached, an offer to bring three pieces in. That is all. Never a box on the counter on their selling day, never a paragraph about your journey.
Follow up once, after two weeks, with one line. Then leave it; a gallery that wants you answers, and a gallery that does not is not moved by a third email. If they say yes, the terms go on one page before a pot leaves your hands: for wholesale, the pieces, the prices, the payment terms and the delivery date; for consignment, the pieces, the retail prices, the split, who pays for breakage, when you are paid, and when unsold work comes home. Jess Van Den’s first video below is the approach from the other side of the counter, and it is eleven minutes that save a year of silence.
Then deliver what the sheet said, when it said, packed per the packing lesson, with the same feet and rims as the twelve they saw. A gallery’s second order is decided by the first delivery, and the second order is the one that matters.
Watch it done
Now watch four people from both sides of the counter.
Watch this one before the email.
None of these makers work here or know we exist. Between them they cover the approach step by step, wholesale against consignment twice, and the five things to have ready. Nothing but the still frame loads until you press play.
Eleven minutes on how a shop actually decides and what lands in the bin, from someone who has been on both sides. The other three videos are in the comprehensive version.
When it goes wrong
Six ways it goes wrong, and what to do about each.
The three mistakes that spend the only introduction you get.
Pick the one that looks like your inbox. The first three are the shelf, the Saturday and the sheet. The last three are the price, the paperwork, and going too early.
You sent photos of twenty good pots and heard nothing
A gallery is buying a maker, not pots. Twenty unrelated good pots is a shelf, and the gallery cannot see what it would be stocking next year.
A cohesive body of work: one voice, a few forms, a palette, made again. Twelve pots that look like one person made them beat fifty that do not.
Take the shelf down to the pots that belong together, make eight more like them, and photograph those.
You walked in on a Saturday with a box of pots
Saturday is the gallery’s selling day, and a box of pots on the counter is an interruption, not a pitch. The one introduction you get was spent.
An email, on a weekday, with a short line, a link to twelve photographs and a wholesale sheet, and an offer to bring three pieces in at a time that suits them.
Apologise briefly if you can, and follow the email route with the next gallery. Do not go back with a bigger box.
They asked for a wholesale sheet and you did not have one
A gallery that says yes wants to know what it costs them, today. A maker who has to go away and think looks like a maker who has not thought about it.
A one-page sheet before the first email: each form, a photograph, a wholesale price, the retail price, and a minimum order. Wholesale is usually half of retail, so retail is set from that.
Write the sheet tonight from the costs lesson and send it tomorrow.
Your own price is lower than the gallery’s
A gallery doubles your wholesale price to reach retail. If you sell the same mug online for less than their retail, they are undercut by their own supplier, and they stop stocking you.
One retail price everywhere, yours and theirs, set so that half of it covers your cost and margin. That is the arithmetic that makes wholesale possible, and it is set before the first email.
Raise your own retail to match. Most potters who do this sell the same number of pots.
Consigned work vanished, broke, or was never paid for
Consignment means the gallery pays when it sells, and until then the pots are yours, in their shop, on their terms. Without a written agreement, a broken pot or a late payment has nowhere to go.
A one-page consignment agreement: the pieces, the prices, the split, who pays for breakage, when you are paid, and when unsold work comes home. Wholesale, if they will, because paid up front is simpler.
A polite written request for the inventory and the account. Then decide whether it is a gallery to consign to again.
You approached galleries before you had a body of work
Galleries come after the first twelve sales, after the range is settled, after the photographs are good. A no from a gallery early is a no you cannot easily reopen.
The selling lesson’s order: three things made well, sold in one place, then a market, then a shop. A gallery is the last door, and it opens more easily with a year behind you.
Nothing lost but time. Make the body of work, and approach a different gallery first next time.
How it works here
At The Clay Hole, the gallery door is yours to knock on, and other members have knocked.
This page is written for potters everywhere. A few things are specific to our building, so you know before you start.
Three things to know here
Members approach galleries and shops under their own names; the studio does not sell members’ work, does not place it, and does not take a cut. What the studio gives you is the clay, the kilns, a year of making, and other members who have walked into the same galleries. Ask at the wedging table before the email.
Your name, your door
The studio does not place members in galleries and does not sell their work. Every pot on a gallery shelf that was made here is there under the maker’s name, with the maker’s claims on it per the claims lesson, and the studio’s name, if it appears, is where it was made.
Ask who has knocked
Other members have approached most of the local galleries and shops, and what happened, what they stock, and what they paid is the conversation to have at the wedging table before the email. There is no better research than a member who has been on that shelf.
The body of work, here
One of our eight clay bodies, two or three glazes from the wall fired at cone 5½ until you trust them, a few forms made again every Thursday for a year. Shelf space by Level decides how big a batch can wait between visits; the membership page has the shelf sizes.
The arithmetic, here
Half of retail has to cover clay from $28 a bag, the $4.80 glaze firing, the membership share and the hours, per the costs lesson. Making the body of work in batches is what gets that share down, and it is why wholesale is easier for a member who fires forty pots a month than one who fires ten.
Questions people actually ask
The ones that come up every week.
What is a gallery actually looking at?
A maker, not a pot. Whether the work has one voice that a customer could recognise across a shelf; whether you can make it again in the numbers they need; whether the photographs and the wholesale sheet say you are organised; and whether your price lets them double it and still sell. A cohesive body of work answers the first two. The sheet answers the rest.
What does cohesive mean?
That twelve pots side by side look like one person made them on purpose. The same clay, a small palette of glazes, a few forms that relate, a consistent finish on feet and rims. It is the opposite of a shelf of experiments, and it is usually the result of a year of making the same three things, per the selling lesson, until they became yours.
Wholesale or consignment?
Wholesale: the gallery buys the pots from you outright, usually at half of the retail price, and they are theirs. Consignment: they display your pots and pay you a share, often sixty percent to you, when one sells; until then the pots are yours in their shop. Wholesale is simpler and pays up front; consignment is how many small galleries start with a new maker. Say yes to either, and get the terms in writing; both videos on this page argue it out.
How do I price for wholesale?
Set the retail price so that half of it still covers your cost and a margin, from the costs lesson. That half is the wholesale price. Then hold the same retail price everywhere, yours and theirs, so the gallery is never undercut by its own supplier. If half of your retail does not cover your cost, the pot is not ready for wholesale yet; make it faster or price it higher.
How do I approach one?
Visit first, as a customer, and look at what they stock and how they price it; a gallery full of hundred-dollar mugs and a gallery full of twenty-dollar mugs are different conversations. Then an email on a weekday: two lines about who you are, a link to twelve photographs, a wholesale sheet attached, and an offer to bring three pieces in at a time that suits them. Never a box on the counter on a Saturday. Follow up once, after two weeks, and then leave it.
What goes on the wholesale sheet?
One page. Your name and contact. Each form with a photograph, a short description, dimensions, the wholesale price and the suggested retail. A minimum order, in pieces or dollars. Lead time. How you ship, per the packing lesson. It is the document that turns a maybe into an order, and most makers do not have one.
Does The Clay Hole place members in galleries?
No. Members approach galleries and shops under their own names, and the studio does not sell members’ work or take a cut. What the studio gives you is the clay, the kilns, a year of making, and other members who have walked into the same galleries and can tell you what happened. Ask at the wedging table before you send the email.
Related lessons
The other six lessons in Selling Your Work.
Three to read next.
A gallery is the last door, and every other lesson in this department is what you carry through it.
That is the whole approach
A body of work. Half of retail covers cost. One page. One visit. One weekday email. Terms in writing.
Your first approach will be twenty photographs of everything you have ever made, sent on a Saturday with no prices, and you will hear nothing, and that is what almost everyone’s first approach is. The second, a year later, will be twelve pots that belong together, a sheet, and two lines on a Tuesday, and someone will write back. This is the last lesson in the University, and it is the one that takes longest.
If you want the consignment detail, the visit notes, the agreement checklist and the answers to the questions everybody asks, switch to the comprehensive version at the top. Otherwise, go line twelve pots up on a table and look.
Written for potters everywhere. Where our studio does things differently, the page says so.
Which version would you like to print?
Both print clean, with the videos turned into labelled boxes you can search for later.