gallery wall diagnostics, pt. 1
the doctor is IN
Hi, happy Tuesday. It’s dark and slick and porous outside. We’re all living in a soggy mushroom spore, and that’s just fine with me. While everyone’s lamenting six more weeks of winter, I’m just getting into my candle-lighting, herbal tea-chugging groove. Also, I’ve spent the last five winters in Chicago, so this mild New York winter feels like kid stuff. You want to see winter? Go to Chicago, where it will be winter until literal June. Until literal June, it’s winter there!
I have to be so honest that I’m having a hard time with my Instagram mutuals who can’t imagine an act of political resistance beyond sharing Instagram stories and calling their reps. You can certainly call your reps, but, like, let’s also reckon with the fact that electoral politics are the most toothless mechanism we have at this point. Call your hospital. Learn another language. Write it down. Learn first aid. Go to the community garden and sniff a root vegetable with a stranger. Not to be annoying, but read Césaire. Also, read this thread:
and additionally:
sorry for screaming! let’s discuss walls
When I’m not belching leftist ideology into the atmosphere, I’m hanging stuff on the wall. I started building my personal gallery (gallery = flea market finds, family photos, crocheted bits and bobs, and ugly mirrors) in 2016, when I lived alone for the first time—but I didn’t really let my freak flag fly until 2019, when my dirtbag boyfriend moved out and I had the distinct pleasure of teaching myself to drive screws. The second he walked out the door, I had the euphoric realization that I could create the precise kind of space that spoke to me. I could play with color in a way that didn’t square with his eye-rolling sensibilities. 20 minutes after he left, I had re-organized my bookshelves and bought a $15 drill on Facebook Marketplace.
That first gallery wall meant so much to me. I’d walk into my dining room every day and see my whole life laid out before me. I put a penis-forward Lisa Hanawalt print smack in the middle. I filled empty spaces with chipped china plates and chewed-up dog toys mounted taxidermy-style.
Fast forward to 2023, when my now-fiance and I combined our art collections in our first shared apartment. ‘Twas then that I had a new puzzle: how to combine my kindergarten-colored prints and serotonin-boosting knick-knacks and his more studious, woodsy, midcentury vibe.
This exercise taught me the coolest part of gallery-wall design, which is creating a cohesive wall with full of unexpected features. And now, over the course of the next few weeks, I will teach you.
finding your gallery wall’s fatal flaw
If you’re squinting at your gallery wall unable to figure out what’s not working, it could be one of the following issues:
Problem 1: The midpoint of your gallery is too high.
I see this constantly. It kills me. If you’re not happy with your gallery, there’s an 80% chance this is your issue.
If you’re hanging a gallery on a bare wall—no couch pushed up against the wall, etc.—there is a rule you must obey if you want to pursue visual tranquility. The midpoint of the gallery—the center of your central piece—should hang at roughly eye level. That’s between 57 and 60 inches from the floor, per traditional design specs. Here’s how to put that into practice:
Measure 57 inches from the floor. Mark that spot on the wall.
Measure your central art piece. Find the midpoint. Let’s say it’s 60 inches tall. The midpoint is 30 inches up the center of the piece. Simple division isn’t just for the boys anymore, baby!
That point—the point 30 inches up the center of the piece—should hit the 57-inch mark. To hang your piece, measure 30 inches vertically from the 57-inch mark. That’s where you’ll drive your nail for the top of your piece. (UNLESS the piece has another hanging mechanism, like a wire, in which case you’ll need to adjust your measurements slightly.)
Problem 2: You’ve got inconsistent spacing.
You can play with inconsistent spacing, but I don’t recommend it if you’re not feeling confident in your gallery-hanging ability. If you’re just starting out, try to make sure each piece is as evenly spaced as possible. Here’s how I do it:
Lay the pieces out on the floor, like the photo below. I like to put a white sheet down so I can envision how the gallery will look on a white wall. Oh, you don’t have white walls? Should we throw a party? Should we invite William Morris?
Play with the orientation. Switch pieces around. Tetris them around each other until they’ve got a clear shape.
Make sure you’ve got a two- or three-inch gap on all sides of each piece. So: There should be a two- or three-inch gap between the top of the middle piece and the bottom of the top piece. And there should be a two- or three-inch gap between the left side of the middle piece and the right side of the piece bordering it to the left. Does that make sense? Do I sound crazy? You can tell me.
This stuff might seem basic, but it makes a huge difference in the cohesion of your finished gallery. I have many, many more tips that I’ll be doling out over the next few weeks.
until then, here’s YEAH, BABY, YEAH, our regularly-scheduled roundup of little treats:
Here’s what I love this week:
Eating pepperoni out of the wet pepperoni bag: I’m trying to add more protein to my diet (shut up), and I always forget that you can just buy a little bag full of uncured pepperoni and eat it throughout the day. Pepperoni is a little wet, so you’re gonna be sticking your hand into a slightly wet bag, but life is full of challenges and I think it’s important to cultivate grit and determination whenever possible. In that way, eating pepperoni out of the wet pepperoni bag is my version of taking an ice bath.
GIRLS rewatch: I forgot how hard this show, unfortunately, really hits the spot. Anybody else rewatching? Anybody else think Adam Driver looks like he has naturally very soft skin?
anyway,
measure your walls,
Lil
I rewatched Girls last year and inhaled it! Please never mention “wet pepperoni” and “Adam Driver” so closely together again