Last weekend my wife and I packed up a bunch of furniture and woodturnings and headed to Nagano for a craft fair. It was the first time I have done any sort of event like this in Japan. I was a bit unsure of what to expect, but I was also really looking forward to the opportunity to get out of the shop and share what I do with a new group of people.
My first trade show experience was in Brooklyn, at Bklyn designs about 6-7 years ago. Looking back at that experience now, I would say I was woefully unprepared. For one I don’t think I had the right kind of mindset going into the show. I was definitely expecting a certain kind of reception and level of sales that was unreasonable. That show was a good experience in a lot of ways though. It got me thinking much harder about the quality of my presentation, and it prepared me for what kind of expectations to have going forward.
At that first show in Brooklyn it was hard to watch as people seemed indifferent to things that I poured a great deal of time and effort into. It took me a long time to shift my mindset but eventually I stopped taking it personally, and started to look at things more objectively. As a craftsperson it’s easy to be so absorbed in what you are making that you sort of lose perspective on the big picture. Doing a show and presenting your work to the public will snap you back to reality pretty quick. If you’re open to observing how people with from outside your world perceive things, the experience can become a really great learning experience.
Take defects for example. We all want our work to be perfect, but it seems like there is always an area that we wish we could have done better. We worry that a tiny little gap that we’ve been fretting over is going to be the first thing someone sees when looking at our work. But in my experience the general public doesn’t see those things, and even if you were to point them out (coupled with a shame-filled apology for making such a mistake), rarely do they truly care to the extent that you do.
The same goes for special details. Sometimes you invest a lot of time into a subtle detail that you think will make a particular piece of furniture really stand out, only to realize that no one seems to notice it. The lesson as I see it, is that you’ve got to step back and view things as a whole, and be careful about not getting bogged down in the details. Defects or particular details may have a level of influence on the whole picture, but they likely aren’t going to be a focal point.
I think the biggest lesson from all this, is that if you can take yourself out of the equation, and start to see things from a wider perspective you can start to learn a lot more about what is working and what isn’t. Taking a more experimental stance, viewing the whole experience as well as individual pieces and designs as experiments allows you to be less attached to the thing itself, and allows you to be more open to change when things don’t seem to be going the way you hope.
I’ve been listening to the podcast How I Built This lately, which is all about entrepreneurs and the stories of how they created their businesses. These are businesses that are far larger than a custom woodworker like myself, but nonetheless there is still a lot of overlap. One of the frequent themes is related to what I just described. Often someone has an idea for a great new product, and they invest their heart and soul into bringing it into reality, only to find out that no one else shares their enthusiasm. In that case you can either hold strong with your vision and forge ahead or you can pivot, recognizing that maybe you don’t have a perfect product, and be open to change. It’s not an easy thing to do when you are invested physically, mentally and financially in a thing, but sometimes it’s necessary to move forward.
Anyways, that’s my spiel. All in all, my wife and I had a great time in Nagano. I’m incredibly grateful to my wife and her support, and it was amazing to have her there with me. We met lots of great people, sold some stuff, didn’t sell some other stuff, and learned a ton. I’m planning to do more shows here in Japan, with the next being in Chiba a couple months from now. I’ve got some new ideas for things I want to try out at that show, including some demos which I think will be a great way to educate people about the joinery, tools and craft that goes into my work. We shall see, this whole adventure is a never ending experiment.
Thanks for the blog Jon. It is very interesting and informative and has many lessons for so many woodworkers both around the world and within the Guild‘s we might belong to. Keep up the great work with all your wonderful blogs, kind regards, Keith (NZ)
Thanks Keith, really glad to hear you’re enjoying the blog.
Loved your update here. It reminds me of the real estate business in that whether it’s a 2 million dollar property or a $150k property the lingo and experience is very much the same.
Thanks, that’s an interesting point! I never really considered the parallels to other fields, but that makes sense that a similar approach/mindset would be needed for real estate, or probably any area of sales.
This is really useful, and motivates me to go to a show. It is so easy to get caught in yourself when making things.
I think you are speaking to the difference between art, where the object is primarily an expression of the artist, and… something else, maybe called craft? I want things I make to be mostly for others, not mostly for myself, and getting out in the world is obviously important for that.
Yeah I think I see what you’re saying. Whether it’s craft or art, it seems like it’s always a tricky balance, and everyone is on a different spectrum. Some are defiant about going their own way, others feel more comfortable going with the herd. But if you’re interested in feeling out what your audience is into, then a show is a great way to get out of your head and see what other people are connecting with when it comes to your work.
The past few years when I’ve been working on different projects or even just doing things like sharpening or cutting joinery that will never be seen, I’ve kept finding myself asking “who is this for?”. Before coming to Japan I had specific ideas about how a plane needed to be sharpened or how joints needed to be cut, and I think a lot of that had to do with placing some sort of mystique around the craft. Then seeing my friends here hollow grind their blades and do double bevel sharpening (things that I previously thought were unforgiveable) got me asking that question. If it’s possible to sharpen my blade in 3 minutes using their method, then to what degree does taking 20 minutes to sharpen my plane add value for the customer… or is that more for my own pride? My apologies for taking things off in a tangent but I feel like all of this is kind of connected. And I know I personally am constantly trying to find a balance between how I want to work, the things I want to make, and how to actually make a living.