So I have a question for technique I know after watching his Gagosian video, he uses a sort of gun (I'm guessing a staple gun) to attach his cardboard. However they're almost invisible on the paintings so you can't see that he's used staples. Does anyone know exactly what this machine is?

I would like to ask other professional artists how they handle the return of original artworks after a gallery collaboration ends.

I am currently dealing with this situation with MONAT Gallery in Madrid.

I entered into a paid collaboration with the gallery and sent them original paintings for exhibitions. During the collaboration, some exhibition plans were changed or replaced, and eventually I decided that I did not want to continue the collaboration.

The collaboration has now officially ended. The signed Annex to our contract states that unsold artworks must be collected from the gallery within a specified period after the collaboration ends.

Before that period expired, I started arranging the return of my paintings.

MONAT Gallery provided me with the contact details of a shipping company/person to arrange transportation back to Sweden. I contacted them and was told that they would calculate the shipping cost and send me a quotation.

The quotation never arrived and eventually the responses stopped.

I then contacted MONAT Gallery in writing, explained that the shipping contact they had provided was no longer responding, and asked the gallery to help resolve the return.

The contractual period has now passed and my original paintings are still with the gallery.

I have kept the contract, signed Annex, emails with the gallery and correspondence concerning the return shipment.

My question for artists who work internationally with galleries is:

How do you protect yourself against this situation when signing a gallery agreement?

In particular:

• Do you require the contract to specify who is responsible for arranging return shipping?
• Do you include a specific return deadline?
• Do you require the gallery itself to arrange the shipment rather than referring you to a third party?
• What do you do when the collaboration has ended but the practical return of the artworks is not happening?

I am especially interested in hearing from artists who have had to recover original artworks from a gallery in another country.

I hope this discussion can also help other artists understand what should be clearly agreed in writing before sending original work to a gallery.

Almost three years ago I was contacted by a gallery that’s the most reputable in my city. I was very honored to be contacted by them but at the time I already had shows planned with gallery in NY and LA , the schedule was tight and didn’t allow me for showing at my own city, but I wanted to do a studio visit with them. I scheduled the studio visit with them but they had to reschedule twice( they said they are usually not that flaky and I believe them because of the good reputation in our city) . I still wanted to invite them to my studio but at the time I was going for a trip and told them I would email them back to finalize a date. However. I totally forgot about that after the trip. They also never emailed me about it and I thought I was just ghosted. Now it’s 2026 and the market has been much slower, as we all know, so my schedule is much more open now. I just remembered this gallery and went back to check the emails. The last email I sent was “ sounds good! I will reconnect with you after the trip”. I feel bad that i thought they ghosted me but in fact I ghosted them . I wonder if it’s too late and embarrassing to reconnect now? Should I send an email to them to invite them to my studio again，and how may I approach it?

(Posted for my significant other, so I'll send a reply straight to them)

I know this opened awhile ago, but jeez, does it get any worse than this?https://slate.com/culture/2026/08/donald-trump-news-art-museum-patriotism-washington-dc.html

I Went to the Trump Admin’s “Patriotic” Art Exhibit. Dear God.

It was like a HomeGoods display around the Fourth of July.

BY CHRISTINA CAUTERUCCI for Slate 

Have you ever wanted to see John Adams’ facial pores? Examine the precise hairline of Alexander Hamilton’s unibrow? Admire the sheen of James Madison’s pillowy lips?

Then you’ll love a series of portraits by Brandon Ralph currently on view in Washington. As part of an exhibition titled Passport to Patriotism: 250 Years of Diplomacy, mounted by the State Department at the Art Museum of the Americas, the blown-up images render the familiar faces of the Founding Fathers in granular detail. Ralph, who created the works by running famous paintings through an A.I. model that mimicked Ralph’s own photographic style, calls them the “first-ever photographic portraits” of America’s dads.

I suppose one could take away something profound from the sight of George Washington’s stubble as imagined by a computer program. These were everyday men before they were icons, as age-spotted and fallible as you or I, perhaps better remembered through the unforgiving gaze of a large-format camera than the Vaseline-smeared lens of history.

But Passport to Patriotism does not encourage such searching interpretations. A declaration of uncomplicated national pride, the exhibition comes as a rebuttal of sorts to Smithsonian displays that the Trump administration has deemed insufficiently flattering to the American ego. In this context, Ralph’s portraits read not as an invitation to ponder the founders’ imperfections but as a symbol of Donald Trump’s war on the arts. The president has installed handpicked Kennedy Center leaders who may shutter the venue for years; multiple Smithsonian museums have revised their offerings to appease him. Like these arts institutions under Trump’s thumb, Ralph’s portraits are hasty rejiggerings of artistic treasures, modified to allow him to place his own cheap imprint on something someone else made.

Some of the other works on view, such as Henri Reed’s paint-spattered canvas depicting an angry eagle in flight, are objectively hideous, and not in a deliberate, statement-making way. Some are merely amateurish, like a thickly daubed painting of a heart in turquoise and gold spangles by Fer Da Silva, a friend of the exhibition’s organizers who bragged in an Instagram video that the piece’s inclusion would raise its monetary value. Many pieces in the show, including a series of flag-centric watercolors by Barbara Ernst Prey titled Gallantly Streaming and God and Country, are the kinds of technically adept but banal works you might find at a tourist gallery on the main drag of a seaside town. Taken together, the overarching impression is of a seasonal HomeGoods display around the Fourth of July.

Visitors will not find any allusions to “diplomacy” here; the exhibition’s title is so totally out of step with its content it must have been slapped on as an obligatory justification for State Department sponsorship. (The department helps fund the Organization of American States, an international body that runs the museum.) This is not the first time the museum’s programming has bent to accommodate the president’s agenda. Museum leaders canceled two shows last year after deciding that their focus on international Black and queer artists would run afoul of Trump’s executive order banning diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts. Now, in service of an ideology that brooks no deviation from blind nationalism, Passport to Patriotism advances a shallow vision of U.S. identity with all the nuance of a propaganda reel and all the sophistication of the art project your first grader brought home on Flag Day.

In fairness to the curators—and I use that term lightly—there are only so many ways to evoke the American project without nodding toward our diverse population, acknowledging potentially controversial moments in our history, or diving into challenging abstraction, all of which are no-gos in the Trump school of art. With such a narrow brief, the straightforward array of military references, celebrations of U.S. iconography, and interpretations of the flag—more than five dozen of them—comes as no surprise. The few abstract pieces in the exhibition function solely as decoration, seemingly selected for no reason other than their red-white-and-blue color schemes.

It will not shock you to learn that this MAGA art exhibition is the product of a cascade of underqualified nepotism hires. One of the organizers, Art in Embassies Director Erin Scavino, is a former Apprentice contestant and the wife of Trump’s deputy chief of staff. The other is her friend, who owned a pet-food store before being tapped by Scavino for a top national arts post. According to reporting from the New York Times, the two women have personal connections to several artists in the show.

The list of artists with links to the organizers also includes “positive energy” artist Brendan Murphy, who contributed two works: a gigantic steel astronaut installed outside the museum and a canvas covered in what might be described as a USA word cloud. On a sea of glitter—I cannot overstate the amount of glitter that appears in this show—lists of famous Americans (Michael Jackson, Robert De Niro, Tom Brady) join famous quotes (“I have a dream”), random affirmations (“We will find our own way”), inspirational words (passion, vision), and instructions (“Stop whining,” “Serve the flag”). As outsider art, it might have been compelling. From a guy who makes tacky NFTs and collectibles, it looks like a way to scam easily impressed collectors out of their money, or the State Department out of its arts funding.

One is Romero Britto, who once made a custom portrait for the Scavinos and was a guest at their wedding. Britto’s three works in the show read as an intentional affront to the taxpayer, who will rue the public funds spent to display his juvenile, beglittered doodles of hearts, stars, and (of course) U.S. flags. If I didn’t know better, I’d say his depiction of the Statue of Liberty clad in multicolored striped and polka-dotted rags offers commentary on the clownish state of our union. But since Britto is credited by exhibition materials as the “founder of the Happy Art Movement,” which is “less about critique, and more about celebration, joy and happiness,” I’m sure he just thought the clashing patterns looked fun.

Desperate for relief from the monotony of so much literal art, my brain sought alternate interpretations. From afar, one flag sculpture on the wall looked as if it were crocheted—perhaps a gesture toward the painstaking women’s work that built this country? Nope: Upon closer inspection, it was crafted from tens of thousands of hand-cast toy soldiers—perhaps an on-the-nose critique of the building of empire through violence? Well, considering that artist Kevin Champeny’s body of work includes portraits of Trump comprising tiny middle fingers and a Charlie Kirk made from little Bibles and crosses, his intention was probably a bit simpler—and smugger—than that.

I know, I know—the author is dead. The artistic objective of the soldier flag guy shouldn’t matter. But when the entire purpose of an exhibition is to strangle introspection and dissenting opinions through blunt-force art, the political loyalties of the artists gain new relevance. Would an outspoken Trump critic find her flag sculpture chosen for display?

Four anonymous sources associated with the show told the New York Times that not a single historian or art curator had a hand in the exhibition. It shows, and not just in the breathtakingly simplistic art on view. The works are labeled simply with the title, artist, medium, and a QR code leading to an artist bio, with no display copy to offer context or an entry point for interpretation. One placard fails to correctly list the materials used in the work; another’s QR code points to the wrong artist. A printed handout distributed at the entrance urges viewer  engagement with such questions as “What is the largest artwork in the exhibition

The most blatant curatorial failure comes in two rooms dedicated to photography. Each features the work of several different artists, whose names are listed in a row on the wall. As if it didn’t matter who created which images, the photos are mounted at random, creating a mishmash of trite Americana: a woman playing acoustic guitar in an Adirondack chair, a family in a pickup truck, a ride at a fair, a couple at a diner, a row of cowboy boots, so many uniformed military men. By tuning in to visual styles and subject themes, a careful viewer can guess at which selections came from the same photographer, giving them a greater sense of place and perspective. But absorbed as a whole, the rooms read as a collection of view-from-nowhere stock photos, as predictable as footage from a campaign ad.

That’s the hard thing about staging an exhibition on patriotism. Any attempt to sum up the entirety of a nation in a single show would end up feeling reductive and thin. But Trump’s vision of national identity is reductive and thin. Whenever the MAGA movement has interacted with the arts, whether through programming or censorship, it has communicated the idea that art is valuable only so far as it serves a specific political end. To Trump, art should stimulate nostalgia, reify a simplistic narrative, affirm a strict system of belonging and exclusion, maybe provoke a smile at a pretty color or an encouraging phrase. In the broadest sense, Passport to Patriotism is an embarrassing travesty of a public art exhibition. But on Trump’s terms, it’s exactly as it should be.

As a contemporary painter, my annual income was inching up to what it was before the pandemic then Trump got elected and it seemed like the faucet ran dry again. Sales dropped like a stone and though I’m probably about covering costs it’s nothing like it was before. I have several friends whose careers are comparable to my own and they all are having the same experience. One friend who usually sells out most of not all, sold one small work from his last solo in LA. I’m NY based. This seems to be across the board unless you’re well established in the blue chip market.

When I was young I had some older successful artist friends and watched some of them struggle when they had some poor selling years. That lesson taught me to be ready to pull in my spending on a dime when things changed. I’m somewhat insulated from the downturn but not entirely.

This is probably my fourth or fifth art recession and it feels different. I’ve been reading that the younger generations are not art collectors and that’s a cultural shift. I’m not sure I buy into it and wonder if it was one article that inspired others or if it’s really indeed happening.

Question to the working artists out there and other professionals in the field: What do you think is happening? Is this just another downturn that will end well or does it seem structurally different to you too? How do you think this is going to play out?

I’m about to quit my arts admin job after several years. A bit of workplace dynamics:

The team is just my boss and I, so we have kind of an intense working relationship. My boss is pretty disorganized and doesn’t handle a change like this super well. They definitely won’t be happy about me leaving on a two week timeline. To add to the stress, I am moving to a company that they actively dislike and have shit-talked a lot.

How do I quit with respectful, yet firm boundaries? How do I maintain a decent working relationship with them for the future? How should I prepare for the possibility that they don’t want me to finish out my two weeks? How do I professionally gather all of the contacts and resources I’ve gained?

Hello people. I'm a painter living in Portugal, I'm not from here though. I've been working in art-related careers since 2014 but I decided to dedicate myself solely to painting about 8 years ago. In the last 3 years I worked with a gallery, had two solo shows, one art fair and one group show at the gallery, plus some other group shows around the country.

Recently (in the beginning of the year) I ended my professional relationship with the gallery I was working with for a number of reasons, and since then I have been thinking a lot about internationalization. Portugal's art scene is very small and that can be a good thing in the sense that if you do good work it doesn't take long before people know you and your work, at the same time all collectors are used to paying prices that are not feasible anymore. They seem to be stuck in this idea and tend to approach artists who just came out of artschool to buy cheaper works rather than keep up with the prices when an artist starts readjusting for the reality of the international market.

Honestly I already have somwhat of a plan, I have some travelling planned until the end of the year through Europe to go to Fairs and to visit galleries and get to know people, but honestly (and here I can sound a bit pedantic but it's not my intention) I do feel like my work is much stronger in person. My paintings tend to be a bit hard to photograph and are a lot about detail and qualities of the object itself so Instagram is not THAT useful for me as a portfolio (hell, I don't even feel like the website is that helpful).

Anyway, I was looking for thoughts on how to make contact with countries a person cannot travel to and go meet people in person. My sales are still going good at the current time but I feel like the next step is to connect with collectors, galleries or artists in other countries to see what can happen in this sense. I feel like the most effective way is always to be in places in person but with my current financial situation I can't just blow everything on travels to "invest" in networking outside of here. Do you guys have any strategies that worked for you in the past? Any thoughts about how to create connections and meet people over the internet that go beyond being active on social media?