Most open calls are written by someone doing six other jobs, in an afternoon, by adapting last year’s text. This is not a criticism — it is the actual condition under which they are produced, and it explains nearly every recurring failure in the genre. The missing information is rarely withheld. It is simply never written down, because the person writing knows the answer and forgets that nobody else does.
The cost falls unevenly. An artist with a network can ask someone who did it last year. An artist outside that network applies blind, or doesn’t apply. So the completeness of an open call is not an administrative nicety; it is the main thing determining who is in a position to respond to it.
What follows is what a complete call contains, roughly in the order a reader needs it, with notes on the omissions that cause the most damage.
The first screen: can I apply, and do I want to?
An artist scanning a listing makes a go/no-go decision in about twenty seconds. Four things govern it, and they should all be visible without scrolling or downloading a PDF.
What it is. Exhibition, residency, grant, commission, prize, festival, publication. State the type in the first line. A surprising number of calls describe an opportunity for several paragraphs before revealing whether anyone gets paid or where it takes place.
Who may apply. Eligibility is where most wasted applications originate, and it needs to be explicit on every axis the organiser actually applies: nationality or residency requirements, age limits, career stage (and defined — “emerging” means nothing on its own; “no solo exhibition at a public institution” means something), education requirements, whether collectives and duos may apply, whether previous participants or shortlistees may reapply, medium restrictions, and whether work must be unexhibited or made within a date range.
If there is an informal preference that functions as a rule — the jury tends to select artists who can install in person, say — it should be stated as a criterion rather than left for applicants to discover.
Where and when. Country and city, exhibition or residency dates, deadline with a time zone. “23:59” without a time zone is a real failure for an international call, and so is a deadline given only in the organiser’s local format (03/04/2027 is two different days on two continents).
What it costs and what it pays. Both, plainly, in the first screen. This is the single most consequential piece of information in any call and the most frequently buried.
The money section, in full
This deserves its own heading because partial disclosure here is the most common serious failure in the genre.
Entry fee. The amount, the currency, what it covers, and whether it is refundable under any circumstances. If there is no fee, say so prominently — it is a selling point.
What the selected artist receives. An artist fee is not the same as a production budget, and neither is the same as a prize. Name each separately, with amounts. “Selected artists will receive a fee” with no figure tells an artist nothing about whether they can afford to accept.
What the organiser covers. Itemise: travel, accommodation, materials, shipping of work both ways, insurance in transit and on site, installation labour, technical equipment, per diem, visa costs and invitation letters, framing, printing. Anything not listed is assumed by the artist to be their cost — so if you do cover it, say so, and if you don’t, say that too.
What the artist is expected to cover. State it directly rather than by omission. An artist who discovers after selection that they are paying €600 to ship work and €400 to collect it has been given a different opportunity than the one they applied for.
For residencies specifically: the full monthly cost including any studio or accommodation fee, whether meals are included, whether a stipend is paid and when, whether the artist must pay a deposit, and whether health insurance is required and provided.
For sales: the commission percentage, who sets prices, who handles the transaction, when the artist is paid, and what happens to unsold work.
The conditions that artists need and rarely get
These are the questions experienced applicants ask by email, which means they are questions every call should pre-empt.
Rights. What rights does the organiser acquire by submitting, and by being selected? Reproduction for promotion of this event is normal and reasonable. Perpetual worldwide rights to use submitted images for any purpose is not, and appears in more calls than it should — often because the clause was copied from somewhere else. State the duration, the territory, the purposes, and whether the artist is credited. Copyright stays with the artist unless explicitly assigned; say so, because it reassures.
What happens to the work. Is it returned? At whose cost? By when? Is unclaimed work disposed of, and after how long? Who is liable for damage in transit, in storage, and during installation, and is there insurance?
The space itself. For exhibitions: dimensions, ceiling height, wall construction (can you drill?), floor loading, available power, natural and artificial light, whether the space is climate-controlled, whether it is accessible, whether there is a technician. A floor plan and a few photographs resolve more questions than a page of prose, and their absence tells experienced artists the organiser has not thought about installation.
For residencies: studio size and type, equipment available, whether the studio is private or shared, accommodation arrangement, whether the residency is in a remote location, whether a car is necessary, and whether family or partners may accompany.
Expectations of the artist. Open studios, artist talks, workshops, community engagement, documentation requirements, attendance at the opening, whether presence is mandatory and for how long. If the residency requires twelve hours a week of teaching, that is not a detail; it is half the terms.
Accessibility. State the physical accessibility of the venue and accommodation honestly, including what is not accessible. Say whether the application process can be completed in alternative formats, whether access costs can be covered, and who to contact. A call that says nothing about accessibility is read, correctly, as one that has not considered it.
The process, made legible
What to submit. An exact list: number of images, file format, maximum file size, naming convention, whether a video link is accepted and on which platforms, CV length, statement word count, whether a proposal is required and what it should address. Word and character limits should be stated for every text field.
How to submit. Which platform, whether an account is needed, whether the form can be saved and resumed, and what happens if the platform fails near the deadline.
Who decides. Name the jury, or state that it will be named, or explain why it cannot be. An anonymous jury is a legitimate choice; silence about whether a jury exists is not. Artists use this information to judge fit, and a named panel is the strongest signal of seriousness a call can carry.
On what criteria. The actual selection criteria, in the order they matter. Not “artistic quality” alone — something a reader can act on: relevance to a stated theme, feasibility within the budget, suitability for the space, the development the opportunity would enable.
What happens next, and when. Notification date for all applicants, not only those selected. Whether unsuccessful applicants will hear at all — and if not, say so explicitly, because the alternative is months of people waiting. Whether feedback is available. Whether there is a waiting list. The date by which a selected artist must confirm.
Who to contact. A working email address, a named person where possible, and an indication of response time. A call with no contact route signals that questions are unwelcome.
The quiet signals organisers send without meaning to
A few patterns are read by experienced artists as warnings, and are usually unintentional.
A substantial entry fee combined with an unnamed jury and a vague prize is the structure of a revenue-generating call, whatever the intention. If your fee is genuinely covering administration, say what it covers and how many applications you expect.
A request for high-resolution files at application stage, before selection, suggests either carelessness or an intention to use the images. Ask for low-resolution at application; request high-resolution from the selected artists.
“Exposure” as the stated compensation, in a call that charges to apply, is read as what it is.
A theme stated so broadly that no work could fail to fit it signals that the selection will be made on other grounds, unstated.
And the one that costs organisers the most good applicants: no indication of budget scale for a commission. Artists cannot propose responsibly without knowing whether the project is €2,000 or €40,000, and the serious ones will not guess — they will apply elsewhere.
A checklist
For organisers, before publishing — and for artists, as a way of reading a call for what it leaves out:
- Type of opportunity, in the first line
- Full eligibility, on every axis actually applied
- Location, dates, deadline with time zone
- Entry fee, with currency and what it covers
- Artist fee, production budget and prize, as separate named figures
- Itemised list of what the organiser covers
- Itemised list of what the artist pays
- Rights granted: purpose, duration, territory, credit
- Insurance, liability and return of work
- Space: dimensions, plan, photographs, technical limits
- Obligations: talks, open studios, attendance, teaching
- Accessibility, stated honestly including gaps
- Submission requirements, exactly specified
- Jury, named or explained
- Selection criteria, in order
- Notification date for everyone
- A named contact and expected response time
A call that answers all of these takes perhaps two extra hours to write once, and is then reusable for years. What it buys is a larger and better-informed applicant pool, far fewer emails, and far fewer artists withdrawing after selection because the terms turned out to be different from the ones they read.
The test is simple enough to apply to your own text: could an artist on another continent, with no connection to your institution and no one to ask, decide whether to apply and what it would cost them — using only what is on the page?
