My Parisian Art Exhibition
Behind the Scenes of Putting It All Together
Today I feel every bone and every tissue in my body.
Three days ago, I opened my first Paris exhibition in a decade. I still feel the excitement, and in front of me, on my work table, sits a giant, composed bouquet of daisies and white tulips—gifts from different friends. It’s a beautiful reminder of the importance of celebrating both small and big victories—something I’m not particularly good at.
The whole last week was more or less entirely dedicated to the exhibition. Actually, more than just a week—almost two! The plan was to show my digital maps, something that people mostly see just online, but also something no one had seen yet: oil pastel maps I rarely share, colourful fragments of my hopes and fears. Jenni, from 12Cakes—a pastry and coffee shop—suggested almost six months ago that I display my art on her big, long wall. It was tricky to find a moment that would work for everyone, so in the end, we decided to pull the bandaid and organize it during the spring break here in France. That meant some of my dear friends wouldn’t be able to come for the vernissage or the exhibition opening, but hey—we can always organize a finissage (a closing event for the exhibition) too!
We penciled in the approximate date in early January and the final one a bit over a month ago - all was already ready and more importantly, I was mentally ready. That meant I could make a little invite for social media and a big poster to glue in the window of my pastry shop-gallery.
When I started preparing, I wanted to include some larger oil pastel pieces. I was reluctant (and still am) to work at a bigger scale, but I challenged myself and created a few A3-format maps in this technique. Bigger pieces require more space and time, and what if I invested all of that and ended up not happy with the result? Oh well—I “risked it” this time.
I also wanted to show some of my oil pastel drawings—what I call mapping memories—portraits of people and moments that shape my everyday life in Paris. I selected a few: a woman I saw reading the newspaper on a Sunday morning (a piece that sold even before I officially opened the exhibition), market-day personas, chairs, and cakes. Since the exhibition is happening in a pastry shop and café, the cake drawings felt very fitting.
Organizing an exhibition takes a lot of energy and a huge amount of time. Some of my friends, the same ones who encouraged me to present myself once again to a Parisian audience thought I was making excuses to organize exhibitions—for one reason or another. I might have even believed them. But now that the exhibition is up on the wall, I realize I was right all along.
I don’t consider myself overly fussy about things. I do believe that “done is better than perfect.” But when you're presenting something that comes from your heart and your body, you want it to represent you well.
Final at Home Preparations
Once the artworks were chosen, it was time to frame them. I decided to go with black and soft yellow frames so the art could really stand out. It turned out to be a great choice—the frames are simple, sturdy, and they don’t draw attention to themselves. They guide the viewer’s eye to the art.
Then came the next step: choosing the mat or passe-partout—something that always adds elegance to a piece. The French also call it Marie-Louise. There's a funny story about why it's called that—maybe I’ll tell it to you one day.
Anyway, you can find standard passe-partouts in art supply stores or framing shops, but the works I was preparing had funky, unusual sizes. So I had to find the right cardboard and make my own. I know, it sounds a bit crazy. But another reason I wanted to make them myself was to control the thickness. I needed enough space between the glass and the oil pastel artworks—because oil pastel is rich and smudgy and needs breathing room.
After lots of measuring, millions of Exacto knife shavings, and using three different rulers, the passe-partout operation was a success!
Wednesday
It took me around six hours to put everything up. Jenni and her assistant, Katharine, were a huge help. My husband too. I had initially drawn a 3D plan of the exhibition in SketchUp, hoping to be fully prepared once in the space—but that only helped a little. The light shapes the space, and you need to feel it, try it, understand it.
So we mixed and matched. And mixed and matched again.
Finally, I started positioning the double-sided tape (which claimed it could hold up to 10kg) onto the frames, and with the help of a spirit level, I began sticking them to the wall. I started this process on Wednesday, and by the end of the day, I realized that in order to balance the whole composition, I’d need to frame and bring in two more of my drawings.
Thursday was suddenly looking scarily busy.
Thursday
I also left the writing of my biography for the very last step. I had outlined it, but I knew inspiration would come only once the composition on the wall made me happy. And I definitely didn’t want to forget the QR codes—so people could find me online and, of course, buy the art as well.
Two hours before the official opening, once everything was done and dusted, and I could finally breathe again—feeling that inner smile of dopamine, that buzz that comes when something is ready—I sat down for a coffee.
Katharine, who was making last preparations for the evening in the kitchen (she’s Jenni’s assistant), made me a latte.
I dared her to draw one of the Parisian bistro chairs on the foam—and she did it.
Strawberry mini cakes, carrot cakes, and gougères were prepared by Jenni and Katharine. Wine and champagne were ready. And so were we—to welcome our first guests!
If you’re in Paris over the next couple of months, my art will be up on the wall at 12 Cakes until early June. The address is: 12 Rue Gérando, 75009 Paris. I took two bizarre photos during the opening (I’ll blame it on the excitement), but I do plan to organize little coffee-and-cake workshops there in the coming weeks. That way, people can drop by, see the art, and create something together (will share the dates here and on instagram).
In the meantime, if you visit the show, you can reserve your favorite piece, pick up my book What My Girlfriends Told Me—and of course, eat the best carrot cake in Paris. The Chair Latte can be ordered too.
Thank you for being here (and there)!
P.S. Over the weekend, my Substack made it to #80 on the Rising in Design newsletters list! At the same time, I’m about to reach 850 subscribers here, and I’m honestly mind-blown. If you like what you read, please share it with your friends—I’m genuinely grateful for your support, your reading, and your attention.
THANK YOU. MERCI. HVALA.
Such artistry, love the breadth of your work and how you filled the space with such a strong, palpable sense of your art and who you are. Congratulations and thanks for sharing everything!
🥂 Congratulations Sonja! Wish I could see it all in person. Loved the insights into making it all happen. 🤩😘