Ghada Amer’s Rejection Letter: “I thought I would never become a ‘real’ artist”

Success did not come easy. There were many times when I could have given up. Yet, each rejection letter I received made me more of a fighter.

Rejections started at art school. The only teacher who taught painting at the Villa Arson in Nice (France) in the 1980s did not allow female students to be part of his class. Only male students were allowed. Female students had to rely on their male classmates to ask questions on their behalf. It was humiliating. Needless to say, I wanted to learn how to paint. In fact, I decided right then and there that I would become a painter.

Rejections did not stop once I graduated from the Villa Arson. In fact, they became more intense, more systematic and far more distressing. And yet, this is precisely the time when young graduates need support in order to develop their portfolio, define their artistic language and grow their practice. It is the time when they need more established artists and foundations to trust them and give them a chance to develop. But their lack of experience is considered a risky liability. So rejection letters kept coming in, accumulating for at least five years – it felt like a lifetime.

I applied for every scholarship, internship, and grant programme that was available in France and the US (in the 1990s). I wanted to further my studies at graduate level but even these applications were met with rejections. I thought I would never become a “real” artist. I felt disappointed, angry, misunderstood. Every rejection, though painful, led me to try harder, to renew my focus and keep up with my practice. I continued to work, to produce, to paint.

It was only in 1995 that a door finally opened. An unexpected opportunity to become an artist-in-residence at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill. I did not hesitate. I moved there and spent the fall semester of 1995 working, networking, and producing. After that, and with $1,000 in my bank account, I moved to New York in January 1996 determined to make it or … not. Sink or swim. I desperately wanted to swim.

The stars were aligned this time, and I swam, not always easily, not always smoothly. In New York, I faced new challenges but also encountered new opportunities. I finally signed up with my first gallery, participated in a group show in 1996 and had my first solo exhibition the following year in 1997. 25 years later, I have just had a retrospective in France and am thrilled to have four solo exhibits across the UK, the US and Europe in October and November this year: at Goodman Gallery, Tina Kim gallery, Marianne Boesky and at Kewenig gallery.