The bits people don’t see

The applications, the rejection, the redirection and why we keep showing up anyway.

I recently found out that I made the longlist for ArtEvol 2026, but unfortunately didn’t make the shortlist.

Of course, I was disappointed. You always are when you’ve put time and thought into an application and allowed yourself to imagine what might happen if you got through. But it also got me thinking about all the things that happen behind the scenes as an artist that nobody really sees.

The constant applying for open calls, galleries and exhibitions. There are so many opportunities out there, but applying for them can almost become a job in itself. There’s the form, the images, the CV, the biography, the artist statement, the project proposal, the carefully considered explanation of what you are doing and why you are doing it.

Then you read it back and wonder whether you’ve actually explained anything at all. So you rewrite it. Then rewrite it again.

You check the images. You question whether you’ve chosen the right ones. You check the word count. You read the statement one more time. You make another tiny change that probably nobody else will notice, but somehow feels incredibly important. And then, eventually, you press submit and move on.

Then comes the waiting. And the emails.

Sometimes they start with something incredibly encouraging. “Your submission truly impressed us with its originality and depth…” You read that and your heart lifts for a moment, before getting to the bit where they tell you that, despite how much they liked it, you haven’t been successful this time. And there are a lot of those emails.

Sometimes you get through a stage, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you get lovely feedback. Sometimes you get a standard rejection. Sometimes you never hear anything beyond an automated confirmation that your application has been received. It can be hard not to take it personally because when you are the person making the work, writing the statement and putting the application together, it can feel like they are judging you as much as they are judging the work.

But they aren’t seeing everything.

They don’t see the years of making, experimenting, failing and starting again. They don’t see the ideas that didn’t work, the pieces that taught you something, or the time spent trying to understand where your practice is going next. They see the small selection of images and words that you’ve managed to squeeze into an application.

And that’s important to remember.

Not being selected doesn’t suddenly make the work any less valuable. It doesn’t take away the skill, creativity, thought or experience that went into making it. It doesn’t mean the idea wasn’t worth pursuing. It just means that, on that particular occasion, in that particular selection process, it wasn’t selected.

Sometimes you get a no and it makes you rethink something. Sometimes it sends you in a completely different direction. Sometimes it makes you realise that actually, you were ready to move on anyway. And sometimes it just stings for a bit.

I think artists probably become quite good at carrying all of this. You learn to take the disappointment, allow yourself a little moan, and then get back to the work. You keep looking for opportunities. You keep applying. You keep writing those bloody artist statements.

And you keep going. That’s probably the bit people don’t see. They see the exhibition, the award, the shortlist, the finished piece hanging on the wall. They don’t necessarily see everything that came before it. The applications, the waiting, the rejection emails, the reworking, the redirection and all the times you put yourself forward knowing that the answer might be no.

Making the longlist for ArtEvol is something I’m pleased about. Not making the shortlist is disappointing, but it doesn’t change how I feel about the work I’ve made or the direction I’m heading in.

If anything, it’s another reminder that this is part of it. You put the work out there. You take the chance. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.

Then you make something else, find another opportunity, write another application and press submit again.

Because the no’s are part of it too. And so is getting back up, getting back in the studio and having another go.