Lately, there’s been a lot of noise about how art guilds and galleries are outdated, obsolete, and irrelevant in today’s digital world. Some artists claim that the traditional model is dead, that applying to juried shows or working with galleries is a waste of time, and that real success can only be found through online platforms and self-promotion.
I’m here to offer a different perspective, one rooted in lived experience and the belief that these avenues still serve an important role in the creative ecosystem.
I’m thrilled to share that I’ve been accepted to exhibit at the Annual Piedmont Craftsmen’s Fair this November as part of the process to become a Guild Member, a goal that’s been years in the making. I first attended the fair in 2009 as a college freshman, and I remember dreaming of the day I’d return as an artist. It feels like a full-circle moment. The application process is known for being rigorous, and that’s exactly what makes this achievement feel so meaningful.
Let me give you some context.
I first applied to join Piedmont Craftsmen’s Guild in 2022. My work didn’t make it past the initial image review. I applied again in 2024 with stronger pieces, and again, I didn’t move forward. Both times, I truly believed in the work I submitted. Rejection in the world of fine craft can be hard, it asks you to question things you’ve poured yourself into. But instead of letting it defeat me, I chose to let it refine me.
I took a step back and really evaluated my portfolio. I pushed my techniques, refined my voice, and even applied for a grant so I could invest in professional photography equipment so I can take better pictures of my work, a critique from my previous applications. That grant came through, and so did the growth.
This year, when I applied again, I felt ready in a way I hadn’t before. I submitted with clarity and confidence. And this time, I was accepted. Now, I’m honored (and a little nervous!) to be preparing for the object review at the November Craft Fair, and I’m committed to making the best work of my life for it to become a fully fledged Guild Member.
For transparency: I do work for Piedmont Craftsmen as their Ecommerce and Web Specialist. But this achievement didn’t come from proximity or who I know. If it had, I wouldn’t have been turned down the first two times. I got here because of my hard work and determination, and I’m proud of that.
The Truth About Guilds, Galleries, and the Digital World
Guilds are not dead. Galleries are not dead. And digital isn’t king of everything. They each have a place, and when used with intention, they can complement one another beautifully. Yes, the world is changing. Social media has the largest access to audiences. Artists can now reach collectors and their audience directly through their phones and computers. But that doesn’t mean the traditional structures are irrelevant.
Guilds like Piedmont Craftsmen and well-curated galleries still matter. Here’s why: They uphold standards. They provide mentorship and professional support. They create opportunities to exhibit with intention and care. They foster a sense of belonging and community that can’t be replicated in a comment section. Guilds and galleries are run by people, human beings with human lives, and none are perfect. That means decisions aren’t always purely objective or immune to bias, and not every system is without its flaws. But that doesn’t mean the systems are broken, or that there’s a conspiracy every time an artist is turned down. Sometimes it just means the work isn’t ready yet. Sometimes it means the photos didn’t do the work justice. Sometimes it’s just not the right fit for that moment.
What I’ve learned is this: applying to places like Piedmont Craftsmen isn’t just about getting in, it’s about who you become in the process. Rejection is part of the journey. And if you treat every “no” like a personal insult or a sign that the system is broken, you’re missing the point, and the chance to grow. It’s easy to throw around words like “gatekeeping” or “politics” when things don’t go our way. But dismissing other artists’ success with that kind of cynicism ignores the hours, years, and deep work that go into building a serious craft practice.
The truth? The art world, like any field, runs on relationships. But the kind of trust and respect that open doors in guilds and galleries isn’t earned through charm or shortcuts. It’s built through consistency, humility, professionalism, and the willingness to keep showing up with your best work and best self. Are these systems perfect? Of course not. But when approached with honesty and respect, they can be powerful spaces for growth, connection, and creative momentum.
Guilds have existed for hundreds of years because they serve a real function in the creative ecosystem. They are not about gatekeeping. They are about craftsmanship, continuity, and education. And galleries? They allow the public to see, feel, and experience art up close. They give context and space to work that often needs that physical presence to be fully understood.
Digital platforms, whether it’s Etsy, Instagram, or your own .com, are powerful tools. But they are just one piece of the puzzle. Digital alone can’t do it all. You still need connection, curation, and context. One is not better than the other. We need both. In-person and digital need each other. Traditional and modern can coexist. Success doesn’t come from tearing one down in favor of the other, it comes from learning how to use each channel wisely. And more importantly: no matter which channel you use, it will only work if you put effort into it. None of them are magic. You can’t just upload, apply, or post and expect the world to beat a path to your door. Each avenue is only as good as the thought, consistency, and intention you bring to it.
My Practice, My Path
I have a website. I use social media. I sell work online. I also have work in shops and galleries. I know what works for me, and I know how to reach my audience. Applying to guilds and galleries is also part of my practice. It keeps me striving. It challenges me to articulate my vision and bring it into physical form. It puts my art in front of people that otherwise wouldn’t see it, just like having a website does. These experiences have made my work stronger. They’ve sharpened my voice. They’ve held me to a standard that keeps me growing and ultimately thriving.
Take Opinions with a Grain of Salt, Especially the Bitter Ones
Here’s the thing: not every opinion about guilds, galleries, or even ecommerce is rooted in experience, or honesty. Sometimes it’s frustration talking. Sometimes it’s projection. And sometimes it’s just someone processing their own disappointments out loud. I’ve learned to take those perspectives with a grain of salt. There will always be people who speak from a place of bitterness, who didn’t get in, who burned bridges, who feel left behind by a changing field. And while I can understand where that pain might come from, I also know it’s easier to blame a system than to do the slow, often invisible work of adapting and growing. Success leaves clues. So does stagnation. I choose to focus on what’s in my control: making better work, staying open to feedback, applying with intention, and showing up again and again, for my art and for myself.
What I Learned from the Guild Process
Applying to Piedmont Craftsmen wasn’t just about getting in. It was about seeing myself clearly. It was about not giving up. It was about proving to myself that I could level up, again and again, and again. And when I got the email that I made it in this year? That sense of accomplishment is nowhere near having an online sale from an unknown person that I will never see, or a like, or a comment on a post. It felt like I had finally broken free from the weight of everyone else’s opinion. From years of internalized critique. From the voice that said I wasn’t ready or worthy or enough.
Conclusion
Guilds and galleries aren’t relics, they’re roots. They ground us. They ask something of us. They create real-life, tactile spaces where our work can be seen, experienced, and honored. Use what’s available to you. Use all of it. Use the guilds, the galleries, the websites, and the social platforms. But don’t rely on any one thing to carry the weight of your practice. Put in the work. Hone your craft. Take good photos. Apply with intention. Show up for your audience in whatever space you choose to build.
If you’re feeling unsure about where to put your energy, you don’t have to pick between tradition and innovation. Use both. And above all, keep making.