Pop-Up Recap

Carolyn and I had a great pop-up on Saturday, attended by friends, family, and lots of new faces. Thank you to everyone who came out.

I'm emerging from a period of severe burn-out, and it's a welcome feeling to want to be in that space again, to want to show my work again. I am particularly excited about how the gallery is looking these days. Lots of color and flowers and patterns and texture. And finally the mix of paintings and jewelry is making sense. A final bonus is that Carolyn's jewelry mixes in so well with my paintings, and complements the assortment of wearable pieces that I have in stock as well. Yay all around.

Here are some photos from the beginning of the pop-up, with everything nicely displayed and ready for visitors.

Spaces

I want my business to flow like I want my life to flow, and for this I need systems. I spend a lot of time analyzing what I do, how I do it, where I do it, when I feel like doing it, and when I avoid it. After nearly two years of observing myself, I can see certain patterns, allowing me to engineer my use of time and space in a way that feels productive, flexible, and full of ease.

My work is split between three spaces, each of which has finally begun to reveal its identity. I've realized what I want to do in each place, what works given the unique layouts and constraints, what definitely doesn't work.

My studio at my mom's house is my alone space. There I can dive deep in my ideas, experiment with materials, get lost in my projects. It's also a space where I measure very, very precisely and hopefully cut only once. It's where I solder and make noise and use power tools. This has been a shared space for the last three years, and in the new year it will be all mine for the first time. I plan to rearrange a little and put in a painting area and an enameling area. I'm excited.

My gallery is where I put on my public face, at least during the hours I've committed to being regularly open. I've recently started spending more time in this space in off-hours, which feels good and allows me to let my hair down and relax into just being present. The gallery has often felt stressful, and over the last two years I've started to understand why that is, and how to overcome it.

I have a carefully controlled presentation to the public, an experience that I want people to have when they come in here. This requires discipline and procedures and lots and lots of tweaking of details. So much goes into creating the space I envision, and I'm constantly rearranging. I've recognized the cycle, at least: I'll put out new work, agonize because it all looks horrible the way it's displayed, feel like I don't have any of the right props or surfaces or labels, then make a brilliant adjustment that brings all the jewelry and paintings and found objects together, then feel super satisfied for about two weeks, then start to think the displays look bad, feel the need to drastically rearrange, then repeat the cycle but with a slightly different mix of pieces.

I often feel dissatisfied with the way my work looks in the gallery, which I know seems bizarre because the space itself is always beautiful. But there's always something that doesn't fit right, or needs to be regrouped, or on a larger background, or explained in a different way. I think a lot about iterations. Dozens of different ways of categorizing, classifying, presenting, and narrating my work. With each iteration I understand more about myself, about what I'm doing.

The logistical side of this constant re-visioning and re-arranging is a nightmare. Holes drilled, walls patched, paint touched up, lights adjusted, displays built, props corralled in bins, mannequins and busts acquired, aluminum maps stacked, supplies sorted, labels printed, stuff hauled back and forth and back and forth. Thus I am obsessed with how to make it flow easy, this eternal doing and undoing of my space.

Furthermore, I have the opportunity to work with two young women artists as assistant/interns, which means I need to have good storage systems and policies and procedures in place, because if it's hard with one person it quickly turns to chaos when there are more hands and heads involved. Not just the logistical stuff, but thinking about the experience and the identity of my space: how to greet people when they walk in, what kind of values I want to transmit, how to operate in my absence. It's a lot. Training people is hard, because to do it right you have to know what YOU want, which in my case has not only taken a while but is ever-changing. Being able to be flexible and dynamic is a must.

When I first opened the gallery, I thought I'd do a certain kind of work at my front desk and jeweler's bench. I've finally learned what it is I actually want to do here, and what doesn't work at all. I need to do tasks that are conducive to interruption and pauses. Sketching works well, as does administrative stuff.

Other things seemed better in theory than in reality. For example, I started with a huge monitor in the gallery to be able to do photo editing and website updates in here. What I didn't anticipate was the size of the screen, coupled with the glare from the sun hitting the cars parked across the street, giving me migraines. Also the screen blocked my view of the front door. And I realized that when I work on my website, I'm deep in thought trying to build my site in a way that makes sense and write succinct copy. Any interruption totally takes me out of the zone, and I forget what exactly I was doing and what page needed updating. So that was out. I took my monitor home, and now do photo editing and website updates from there.

Which brings me to my final workspace, in our house, in a shared office with Ricardo. That's where I do my accounting, and my emails, and anything that benefits from a huge computer screen. It's a pain to have my functions/papers/things split among three spaces, but the reality is that I often feel like staying home but also need to work a bit. So if I can work a little from home as well as my studio and my gallery, I'm able to stay on top of things better. And there's nothing quite as nice as rolling out of bed, getting some coffee, and knocking out five things on the computer while still wearing pajamas.

The habits from my days as a freelance consultant die hard, I guess.

Creative Business: What Makes Me (Un)Happy

Lately I've been feeling very unhappy about being a jeweler and having the gallery. These growing pains are part of the ride, but it's time for a major adjustment when the thing I love becomes the thing I most want to avoid. Because, you know, I already burned out on one career (see: the archives of this blog between 2006 and 2009) and I'd prefer that not happen again.

The things that make me unhappy are pretty easy to identify:

- Allowing my business side to take over at the expense of my artist side. Focusing too much on numbers and sales and foot traffic, and very especially measuring my success by those metrics.

- Acting like a retail jewelry store. This is not what I want to do, but it is the easiest model to follow and the one that people most readily understand. And the desire to have a flourishing business where others understand what I'm doing, support it, approve of it...I won't lie. It's there.

- Making jewelry that I think will sell, not the pieces my gut/soul/whatever leads me to create. Production work is a tempting mistress. Again, it's what others most easily "get". It's safe and expected/accepted. It's the most lucrative strategy, at least in the short term. But it is the wrong path for me, and that I do know in my gut. Focusing on production work (think wearable, fashionable jewelry collections that are made in multiples) is the fast track to my business mind taking over.

- Living too much in the future. Planning excessively. Scheduling every free moment. Maxing out my productivity.

- Creating a public persona where I don't allow myself to be real, vulnerable, messy, or uncertain. Feeling like I always have to front positivity and be "on" in order to be successful. Here I feel free to tell it like it is. On my www.aliamaro.com blog and newsletter and in the gallery, I don't. There is a major filter in place. I recognize the importance of privacy, of keeping some semblance of separation between business and personal life...but it bothers me that I don't feel okay sharing my authentic self in the spaces where I share my work.

- Feeling overly obligated to others. Man this is a big one. I want to share my opportunities with my fellow artists, and I want to contribute to my community...but there needs to be balance so I'm not consumed up in the process.

So there's the unhappy list, in a nutshell. Now for what makes me happy (it's a much less philosophical list):

- Doing the painting exercise I invented where I color mix for 5 minutes, then apply paint to the canvas for 5 minutes, let dry, and repeat. These loose, colorful, free paintings are my favorite thing right now in terms of studio work.

- Taking photos of textures, patterns, and architecture. Taking portraits.

- Creating compositions with objects. Finding edges that match and angles that meet. Finding balance within asymmetry.

- Playing with color. Putting together unexpected palettes. Organize things according to gradients.

- Doing processes that involve the unknown. Like enameling, where you have no idea what the colors will look like before you apply heat. Or using my jeweler's saw to slice into those dried acrylic paint balls I like so much, revealing a hidden interior.

- Rendering (drawing) jewelry. I think I like it because it's so damn hard and the results are so gratifying. Nothing like a challenge.

- Being a stylist: putting together a great outfit, nailing proportion, mixing patterns, accessorizing.

- Creating something for another person that is incredibly meaningful to them.

- Doing nothing. Hanging out with cats. Being in the sun. Dancing.

- Getting away. Traveling. Exploring. Wandering.

I am going to pin this to my studio wall and make it a priority to look at it, reflect on it, allow myself to say YES to things on the happy list and STOP doing the things on the unhappy list without guilt or anxiety or insecurity. I'm not sure what the result will look like, in terms of what I'll create or where it will lead. And that's part of the exercise.  

2014: First Year of the Gallery

In front of the Point Richmond gallery on our first year anniversary party. Photo by Steve Holloway.

Mon dieu, 2014 was quite the year. I loved it, am grateful for it, but damn in put me through the ringer. Here are some of the more notable experiences and reflections on my first year having the gallery in Point Richmond:

• Launching a brick-and-mortar business in an area with no foot traffic is not for the faint of heart. It really builds character to open your doors and then have nobody walk in, sometimes for days. I knew it would be like that, especially in the beginning (Point Richmond has a wee downtown plaza with some commerce, but sustaining a retail space here is hard), and I created my business model to be compatible with zero foot traffic, but still. No matter how many times I reminded myself that I am not a jewelry store, and that my success is not measured by the number of people who come through the door, it was tough to keep a positive perspective. Many a night I would close the gallery and then go cry into Rico's sympathetic ear. I found it disturbingly easy to slip into a "retailer" mentality, focused on being busy, hoping to get slammed with shoppers, feeling pressure to keep longer hours, offer more, do more-more-more. But I am not a traditional retailer, and I don't want to be a traditional retailer. Therefore much of 2014 was about resisting that impulse, and trying to remind myself (and others!) that it is possible to find success through a different model.
• What is that model? A hybrid of creating custom pieces for clients, selling my own limited-edition jewelry designs in the gallery and online, and selling work from select guest artists in the gallery. About half of my business last year was custom work. The other half was gallery sales, of which one-third was from the guest artists I featured. I find it fascinating to have one full year of numbers to look back on, concrete information that will inform next year's activities.
• Speaking of numbers, I am excited to report that my predictions for 2014 were majorly on point. No big surprises in expenses, and I exceeded my revenue goal by 15%. So there may not be people streaming in the door, but hey, something went right. ;)
• Last year brought many intangible successes that don't show up in my numbers. Like Point to Point Richmond, the community event I helped conceptualize and launch over the summer. Together with a crew of fellow artists and small business owners, we encouraged people to rediscover and reinvent Point Richmond one day each month through collaborations, pop-ups, performances, and spontaneous and creative use of our spaces. It was a grand experiment, completely and totally grassroots, that allowed me to connect into a community of peers and meet many new people. Point to Point was not in my business plan, and I never could have imagined dedicating so much energy to community organizing...but I allowed myself to follow my gut, and I can honestly say it was worth it. Not just as a personally fulfilling experience, but as a great way to get people into my space and talk to them about my work (see bullet point #1 about there being no foot traffic..."event-driven" is what we are!).
• In 2014 I showed work by six guest artists in the gallery, often holding opening receptions on Point to Point days. It was great to be able to show a mix of styles and materials and price points, to showcase local art, and to have my creative friends alongside me in this experience. There were some bumpy times, but I am so proud of the professionalism we all showed, the way we found solutions to whatever wasn't working. In 2015 I look forward to showing more work by guest artists, but with a slightly different format to keep things fresh.
• I am so grateful for the help and support I've received over the past year. My family, Rico, my assistant Marie, my studio mates, my guest artists, my teachers, my clients, our neighbors, and our friends near and far. It has not been an easy one, but I am aware I'm not in this alone, and that anytime I need to talk or cry or celebrate, I have great company by my side.
• My favorite comeback of 2014: "What?? You've been here a year? I've never noticed you! You need to advertise more!" "Oh yes, we have been here for a year. We're a hidden gem, just like Point Richmond." Works every time. People like the fact that our neighborhood is undiscovered and under the radar, and I love using that analogy to open their minds about what my business model is all about.
• Low point of 2014: there was a flea infestation in the gallery. It was horrible and required great discretion and took so much longer to get rid of than I ever though possible. It's all gone now, no more fleas, and I'm at the point where it is really funny to look back on. Hilarious how life throws you a really good curve ball every once in a while, just to make sure you remember you can't control it all.
• Speaking of, I downsized my planner. After three years using a gigantic paper calendar with scheduling in 30-minute increments, I'm now down to a 5x7 weekly view planner with space to write one or two things per day. This is a good limit for me. Getting through school and the first year of my business, it was super helpful to have tight planning and a to-do list on every page. But now, I can relax a little. I have to relax a little. If I can't write it in the little space allotted for the day, I probably shouldn't take it on...
• And so goes the first year. There are a lot of takeaways that I didn't list here, but that's okay. This doesn't have to be exhaustive. It's New Year's Eve, and it's time to celebrate. Rico and I are feeling really exhausted and under the weather, and instead of being out at a party we've elected to stay home and chill. My mom said we're getting old. I say we're getting comfortable. There is a fire in the fireplace, cats and blankets on the lap, and White Collar on Netflix. Here's to a quiet end to an unforgettable and intense year.

Video: Interview with Richmond Confidential

This feature on Ali Amaro | Art Jewelry & Objects is part of a series about small businesses in Richmond, California. We had a really fun interview, and I hope you enjoy the result!

Check out the full video and text here: http://richmondconfidential.org/2014/10/13/voice-of-small-business-ali-amaro-art-jewelry-objects/

Imagens do Dia a Dia

This is what life has looked like over the past three weeks...

 Maybe it doesn't reflect in the photos, but I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately. Like I'm being suffocated by my own momentum, my own relentless organization, my own ambition. It feels very heavy and condensed. Definitely one of those "learning a lot of lessons" periods, where I'm pursuing lots of opportunities and figuring out which ones are worth the hustle and which are not. Like I said in a previous post, it's a lot of work, and I feel exhausted.

Today Rico and I made a spontaneous decision that makes me feel more balanced, less stressed about all that is currently on my plate. I will be joining him for a very, very short holiday in Brazil next month. Rico's mom is having surgery, and he will be in Rio for a bit helping her out with the recovery and logistics of it all.

Initially I was going to stay here, because I have so much going on, but today we found a ticket using miles and I thought fuck it, why not? It gives me something to look forward to, a reason to really get it in gear in terms of studio efficiency (I am working on several custom projects and it will be nice to just knock them out before I leave), a natural deadline by which I need to have certain things finished or off my plate.

The trip is also a welcome reminder that my physical presence is not necessary for the gallery to be open, for my business to move forward, for things to work out. It's okay to take some time off, especially if I am feeling burned out.

Now the hurdle is that I need a visa for the trip to Brazil. Although I'm married to a Brazilian, I'm still on a tourist visa (mine is expired, of course), and the consulate in San Francisco has at least an 8-week turnaround and no available appointments until the day I'm supposed to leave. So clearly that won't work.

Rico and I are currently figuring out how to get an expedited visa when the consulate for your jurisdiction is seemingly incapable of providing one (only Houston and Atlanta emit rush visas, according to the official sources, and you need to be a resident of those jurisdictions to qualify for that service). Looks like there will be a despachante in our future...

In the Ali Amaro Gallery: carved granite sculptures by Martin F. Rickert. They remind me of hedgehogs and pineapples, and I want a trio of them for our porch.

Mano and Nina, enjoying a nap on our messy piano.

A new series of necklaces I made with Mozambique Island trade beads. I love gradients so much.

Rico built us a bed using reclaimed wood from part of our deck that we tore out (and are replacing/expanding). It's beautiful, as are the new master bedroom and bathroom we are enjoying these days.

Wine tasting event a Brock Cellars in Berkeley, together with Tarryn and Bridget from the 4 to 9 Wine Bar (the best neighbor a gallery could ask for)

Friends from Brazil who now live in the Bay Area joined us for the event.

I've been working on a crown design...a lot of things still have to come together before it's made a reality, but I hope it happens. It's a really cool concept, as the crown will be covered with clip-on earrings from my client's nana.

And of course, let's not forget Point to Point Richmond! It's happening again this month, and Marie (my assistant!) and I are busy prepping sail cloth and hand-dyed shibori squares for a prayer flag interactive activity outside the gallery.

What's new in your world these days?

Que Pasa, Calabaza?

It's been a whirlwind month since we arrived back from Portugal. Lots of community organizing, work at the gallery, custom orders, and moments of observation and relaxation. Here is a visual record of how I've been spending my days:

Living and working in Point Richmond, there are always opportunities for a moment. Cool cars, old houses, and a neighborhood full of friendly characters. I try to walk between our house, the studio, and the gallery as much as possible. It's about 15 minutes between any of them, the ideal distance for a meander, a pause, a reset on my perspective.

This is a house where a hoarder lived for many years. It used to be full of giant nutcrackers in the windows. At a certain point it was condemned by the city. Now it's been sold, cleaned out, and is undergoing a renovation following what seemed to be a continuous, 3-week garage sale.

Speaking of chaos (albeit the beautiful, tangled, physical kind), I am so obsessed with Martin Rickert's ceramic sculptures. We have three of them in the gallery right now and I feel like they mirror my brain state much of the time. Lots of connections, a lot going on, trying to figure out how everything links together.

Martin also does stone carving. He apprenticed in Germany in the traditional guild system and is a serious craftsman. He lives and works here in Point Richmond, and is someone we're enjoying getting to know.

I've been working on a custom headdress for a client that she will wear on her 30th birthday at a beach party in Jamaica. The inspiration is a runway piece done for Givenchy. We will put a unique twist on the design by using my client's grandmother's clip-on earrings as the focal sparkly points in the headdress. I'm super excited to see this come together.

I'm also working on a big cocktail ring that has an oval blue topaz flanked by round green tourmalines. I'm creating custom basket settings for the stones, which has been an exercise in precision and geometry. Hopefully this piece will be done this weekend.

Amid all this custom work, there's been some priceless (in)action from Gato Preto Pria:

Excitingly, people from CCA alumni and career development got in touch and did a field trip to the gallery. I'm super pleased that I got on their radar, because not only am I an alum, there is the work of three other CCA graduates in the gallery right now, plus two more CCA guest artists lined up to do shows over the summer. It's a CCA party! Plus Martin!

 It's been fun to feel the gallery come into its own. The word is getting out, and increasingly it feels "real". Nothing like a sign out front to remind me that yes, this is happening. :)

The gallery participated once again in Point to Point, the pop-up community event I've been helping organize and facilitate. I offered an interactive metals stamping booth (which was a major hit) plus a little world cup and samba action (not so much of a hit, but ya gotta try, right?).

Not only did we stamp up a storm, I managed to re-home my grandfather's sparkly red accordion that has been sitting at the bottom of my coat closet for about 10 years.

 I'd left the accordion on the gallery stoop, hoping to find someone interested in playing it that could become its new owner. Lo and behold, that happened. A gentleman picked it up, rocked out, and accepted the gifted instrument. It was a magical moment.

The new accordion owner jumped into some jam sessions that were happening around the downtown area for Point to Point. It was a treat to watch!

And of course there was the solstice. A beautiful, calm, light-washed evening. It's been a good month. :)

Portugal's Jewelry Traditions

The first day we were in Lisbon, it struck me: there were ourivesarias (goldsmithing shops) all over the place. Sometimes three or four to a block, all offering a mix of filigree, high-end watches, and cash-for-gold. I thought we must be in the jeweler's district, but then realized no, in fact, there are simply jewelers EVERYWHERE. And it's not just Lisbon. We observed the same thing in Porto, Coimbra, Viana do Castelo, even tacky old Portimão had a ton of jewelers.

Here is one of my favorite ourivesaria windows, discovered along one of the hilly streets of Porto. Notice the old jeweler's bench, the drawers full of assorted stamps and punches. There is even an old saw frame and what looks to be a twist drill, plus a stumpy little bench block.

Inside the shop, they used many of the metalsmithing tools as display props. I especially liked seeing these two-part plaster molds with old ring designs and floral patterns (although I don't really like how the beaded strands are all willy-nilly on top of them).

We drove about an hour north from Porto to a town called Viana do Castelo, apparently the main place for filigree in Portugal. There is even a specific filigree shape called "coração de Viana" (Viana heart) that Sharon Stone recently wore and now is in hot demand, even though it's been around as a design for, oh, several hundred years.

The traditional context in which all that gold filigree is worn has to do with ceremonies, be it a wedding, saint's processional, a feast day, or mourning. The ladies pile on the jewelry, and everything is full of symbolism. You can tell where someone is from, if they are single, their social position, etc. just from the costuming and jewels.

We'd heard there was a goldsmithing museum in Viana do Castelo, but upon arriving couldn't find it and instead wandered into the Museu do Traje or Museum of Costume. Turns out it was the right decision. The goldsmithing museum was robbed a few years ago and lost nearly their entire archives of filigree and religious jewels. What was left is now housed in the walk-in safe room in the basement of the Museu do Traje, probably the best small museum I've ever visited. The displays are incredibly well done, and if you are at all into textiles, embroidery, lace, fashion, folklore, processions, filigree jewelry, and/or metalsmithing...definitely visit!

The museum had a gorgeous display of gold (no photos allowed), as well as a video showing an artisan making filigree (totally made me want to try), and these great process boards illustrating the main tools and techniques in metalsmithing.

I was impressed by how little has changed in the tools I use in my day-to-day work in the studio, compared to the vintage/antique tools I got a chance to see in Portugal. I was also inspired by how well the museum showed processes, for example the evolution of making a gold bead (below).

Back in Lisbon, Rico and I wandered around visiting different jewelry ateliers, galleries, and shops.

We checked out the Galeria Tereza Seabra, a really cool space with legitimate art jewelry and two benches where a lesson was taking place. They also have an exhibit of cabinets of curiosity, but sadly it was closed for a month for vacation (ah, Europe).

One of the more memorable spots we visited was the Atelier Plum, a jewelry showroom I heard about thanks to a shopping guidebook in our hotel. Finding this space was a trip, as there is absolutely no signage and you have to adventure through some random places. To start, you walk all the way to the back of a shop called Hospital da Boneca (Doll's Hospital) which is a narrow room full of old dolls and doll parts. Nothing anywhere about jewelry or Atelier Plum to be seen. You go out what looks to be a service door, then up four flights of stairs, and finally press an unmarked buzzer and hope for the best.

A friendly lady opened the door, seemed a bit surprised to have unannounced tourist visitors, then showed us the horizontal drawers where all the jewelry was displayed. Honestly, I was hoping for some more exciting work (it was lots of simple bezel rings, some beaded necklaces, and randomly a drawer with ivory inlay...bad.bad.) I've become a total display snob now that I have the gallery, and I thought the jewelry was inaccessible and poorly shown in the drawers.

Anyhow, what was fascinating about Atelier Plum was seeing a 6-person jewelry workspace in action. I love noticing the details of how people organize their tools, whether their benches are a holy cluttered mess or nice and tidy, where the major equipment is set up, etc. The number one thing I was struck by was the ubiquitous presence of cigarettes in the workshop. The Portuguese are a country of chimneys, that's for sure, but it made my eyes goggle out of my head to see ashtrays next to the oxygen tank and cigarettes dangling from people's lips while they worked at their benches. I guess they aren't paranoid about explosions! :/

My favorite-favorite part of that visit, however, was the wall decorations. Classroom notes, sketchbook pages, and formulas were pasted and scrawled all over the place. It was genius! Below is a sample, with formulas for making tubing, alloys for different colors of gold, and the best quote ever: "In jewelry, 1 millimeter is 1 kilometer." Oh, how true.

Video: My Path to Metalsmithing

Click here to view the video.

So this is a story all about how...my life went from Burque to Brazil to Mozambique...and then I became a jeweler and gallery owner in Point Richmond. This video is part of a project to show high school students the in's and out's of different occupations and how people got there.

Birthdays and Art Milestones

Two of the people I love the very very very most in this world had birthdays in the last few days. We've enjoyed celebrating, keeping it low key.

All Rico wanted for his birthday was a lap full of cats. Not really, but that's what he is stuck with!

I love this photo of my mom that I took in Les Baux this summer when we went to France.

Speaking of milestones, my senior show went up one year ago today. When I stop to think about all that has happened, I feel profoundly overwhelmed. Grateful, excited, tired, bittersweet, hopeful, sad. What a ride.

One thing that makes me very happy is that I continue to make work in the vein of my senior show (Origins & Routes). Working with repurposed heirlooms, collectibles, and found objects is what I feel most strongly expresses my voice. I'll be showing new work this week...fitting timing.

Spring Show Opening Reception

What Work Looks Like These Days