Open calls hold a particular kind of excitement. There’s something hopeful about them: a new gallery discovering your work, a theme that aligns perfectly with your practice, the possibility of reaching an audience you haven’t connected with before. They represent doors opening, conversations beginning, work finding its place in the world. For emerging artists especially, they can feel like essential stepping stones toward building a career.

I believe in their value. I’ve had amazing experiences with open calls, exhibitions that came from them, connections that lasted beyond a single show. When done well, they create genuine opportunities for artists outside the usual networks of representation and recommendation. They level the playing field, at least in theory.

But every so often, an open call comes along that feels full of promise: a new space, a new audience, a theme that sparks ideas. You spend the time, follow the brief closely, and submit your work exactly as requested. Sometimes, despite your care and attention, it leads nowhere. And then you see other artists who ignored the brief or didn’t follow the requirements at all getting accepted. It can feel frustrating and bewildering, but it’s also a reminder that open calls are rarely predictable and not always conducted with consistency. Every experience leaves a small lesson behind.

One thing I’ve learned is to be cautious of calls that require public submissions or ask artists to promote them through their own social media. It can blur the line between genuine opportunity and free marketing. Before applying, it’s worth understanding exactly what’s expected: how work should be submitted, when decisions will be shared, what commission rates apply, and how your work will be presented.

Established galleries and exhibitions, big or small, are generally a safer bet. They have track records you can look into, artists you can speak with, a history of following through on their commitments. Newer galleries with proper funding and backing from arts councils can also be worthwhile. But it’s wise to be more cautious of untested spaces with no established reputation, even if their exhibitions sound amazing on paper. These are often the ones most likely to use artists for free promotion while they try to attract bigger names or build their audience. Your work becomes the bait rather than the catch.

Clear communication is a sign of respect. Galleries and organisers who take the time to acknowledge every submission, even briefly, show that they value the artist as much as the art. When applications are ignored or communication stops altogether, it reveals a lack of regard for the creative effort that went into the work.

Some organisers explain that they will only contact successful applicants because they are too busy. While it’s understandable that time is limited, submitting work, whether for a gallery, an open call, or a job, requires time and emotional investment. Every applicant (artist or otherwise) deserves acknowledgment, positive or negative. Silence or ‘ghosting’ shows a lack of respect for the effort put in and erodes trust in the process, while taking a few moments to communicate the outcome demonstrates professionalism and respect for the artist’s work.

Asking artists to publicly put their submissions out there is, in itself, a very difficult thing to ask. It requires a level of vulnerability that deserves to be met with care. I’ve seen exhibitions that make this a requirement, along with asking artists to help promote the event, only to later include artists who did neither. To those who followed the process in good faith, it feels disingenuous, as though the decisions were already made long before the call went out.

The longer I make art, the more I see that professionalism matters as much as passion. As artists, we put a great deal of trust in those who handle our work. When that trust is met with fairness and transparency, it builds lasting creative communities. When it isn’t, it simply reminds us to stay grounded, make good work, and protect our time and energy for the spaces that truly value them.

I will always love open exhibitions and believe deeply in what they can offer. When they’re run with care, they bring artists together, spark new friendships, and create moments of real discovery, both for the public and for the makers involved. If sharing a few lessons from my own journey helps someone spot the right opportunities for them, then I’m glad for that.
Hwyl fawr 
Daniel

Hwyl fawr 
Daniel