Fascination Street

Boulder is, famously, a weird place, and not just because of its rep as the liberal wack capital of the world. Pound for pound, there are more "Free Tibet" t-shirts and dreadlocks on the mall than anywhere else ( Disclaimer: I have nothing against weirdness and dreads, think they're attractive enough, and I totally embrace the unlikely eventuality that Tibet will be free soon)

Despite the T-shirts that read "Keep Boulder Weird", there's actually a University at least half full of football-watching Republicans to balance things out (and they're lobbying to be allowed to carry guns on campus, talk about weird). I'm not qualified to judge Boulder's deeper zeitgeist; my booth at last weekend's Art Fair was the longest amount of time I've spent there. But how is the People's Republic of Boulder as an art town? About the same as any other mid-sized city, I think.

It certainly has its share of dedicated, Saturday morning art shoppers. But as the temps soared to 102, and the art crowd thinned, I was left with time to observe the rest. I have spent a lot of time at street fair art shows, and have identified a number of types who habituate in any city. It's risky to draw conclusions, I suppose, especially when part of one's income depends upon them, but here they are: ranked from most likely to buy, on down. 

Single Women: Whether wearing rings or not, women who shop alone are the drivers of American cultural life. Confident, decisive, businesslike, they embrace their traditional role of home decorator in concert with their more recent economic independence. Whether Grad-school aged, 30-Something, or middle aged they are a force to be reckoned with, and they know it. Despite this, they love hearing what you have to say about particular pieces. If you have them in your booth, your show prospects just got better. 

Couples: Whether gay, lesbian or hetero, they collect and buy together. Decision-making is naturally more complex, so you often get multiple visits and comparison shopping. I'm not a salesman and tend to let the work speak for itself, so this suits me fine. Unlike single women, they require little work, since it's the couple that does all the selling, to each other. I get a very romantic feeling watching them decide. If they strart pointing to one of your larger works and discussing which wall it might look best on, you are about to make your booth fee. An important exception is the couple that is there as part of some quality time /sportsbar time trade off. The man usually stands impatiently outside the tent while the woman looks at art. I don't know what this portends for their relationship, but no matter how enthusiastic she may be, you will not sell so much as a postage stamp to her until she dumps him.

Friends: To paraphrase Freewheelin' Franklin- times of friends, and no sales, will get you through better than times of sales, and no friends. Friends fill the boring parts of a show, and make your booth seem more popular than it is. They help you break down and set up, which is hot grungy work. Besides, friends buy an amazing amount of art, even though they often know they can trade for it, or just wait till I give it to them. 

Students, hipsters: A relatively small, but very gratifying portion of my typical sales. Fun and enthusiastic, they are often artists themselves. Let us now praise those forward thinkers who spend more on tattoos, piercings and weird art than they do on their cars. 

Single Men: They seem fewer, and less conversational, than the women. But they do buy art. 

Overthinkers, Stalkers: For whatever reason, and it may be very legitimate, they have a hard time committing or permitting themselves to buy. They return often, or cruise by, are sometimes forthright about their circumstances, and sometimes hover just around the corner, peering at the object of their desire. Sometimes you can get them off the fence by offering a deal, usually not. I suppose that some, burned by the memory of the piece that got away, graduate to more stable finances or decisive frames of mind, and become buyers, but a few return years on end, inquiring about the same piece. 

Praisers, Activists: They tend to genuinely like the work. They solicit for art donations for charity ( I donate regularly, if the charity is competent and respectful), for other shows that need more artists, or sometimes they thank you for coming to their small-to-midsized town so that they will be exposed to more and better art. All very nice, and I know there are artists being paid by some public or private funding for this purpose, arts education. But once I've sweated the framing and the set-up, and it may be cynical, then the only meaningful praise is the kind accompanied by a checkbook being opened.

Giclee buyers: They've made the important leap from throwing up the first Bronco poster that comes their way, to seeing walls as an important place for personal expression. But you could make a case that hanging street corner band flyers, or old movie posters, or magazine or comic book covers would be a more authentic (and cheaper) form of expression. 

Strollers, Looky-loos They wear a lot of Nike, or Bronco apparel, and saunter by with their ice-creams without purpose, or even focusing their eyes. They sometimes will actually enter the tent, but only to cut through to the ice cream stand. They only stop to park their massive strollers or large, panting dogs (poor doggies!) in front of your hottest-selling bin while they chat about ice cream on their cell phones. 

The purpose of a street fair, is of course to attract a large, diverse crowd. And people change, moving up into higher levels of cultural sophistication, or simply giving up and heading to somewhere they are more comfortable, such as the Bronco game, or an ice cream parlor. But let's not kid ourselves about who the artist wants to see walk into his booth, shall we? If we could sum up in one word: a conversationalista (yes, I made that up). I love a talker, and people who are engaged by their surroundings are often themselves very engaging. 

These blase, ice-cream slurping Americans have become an archetype around the world as a symbol of Americans' lack of cultural engagement, but it might be an unfair stereotype. Especially in Boulder, Albuquerque, Casper, to name a few  small- to mid-sized cities I've been to. More of these cities are seeing street fairs, an outgrowth of ancient old world marketplaces, as a good way to lend vibrancy to a downtown, enliven a city's cultural scene, and help the local economy. I think more people are becoming intrigued by this sort of social exchange.

I've always said the culture wars will be won in the streets, not in the media, and here's one place where the good guys are winning. Who knows when today's ice cream eater may become tomorrow's art collector? As for artists, these shows can be a great way to widen your base, as the gallery scene can certainly be a bit clubby. It's hard work doing these shows, and dispiriting when you watch gawkers parade by for hours on end. I hope to stop doing them at some point, but they have a lot to offer. For one thing, the people-watching is the tops. 

In Which I Offer An Explanation of Sorts, Though I May Have Lied About The "Pina Colada Song"

Where did June/July go to? I meant to post, I really did. It would have been a good time to post the anxiously awaited Squishtoid Manifesto, but my infinitely staffed simian writing pool with their infinitely equipped Remington Selectrics dropped the ball, it must be said. Instead of witty, trenchant, action-inspiring words for artists, we got Shakespeare. Dissappointing to say the least! Especially as the monks' effort, entitled "Titus Andronicus (The Musical)"  has already been written.

Okay, that's actually a cumbersome plug for my favorite theatre group here in Denver, Buntport Theatre. Their version of Shakespeare's bloodiest play featured 10-foot, Monty Python-esque spurts of stage blood; a chalkboard to tot up the body count, and a stage design centered mostly around a 1963 Ford Econoline van, which they rolled into position for various scenes while delivering wacky little expository asides. And song, lots of song. That was a fondly remembered weekend for me, not least becase it is the only one in memory in which I saw not one, but two musical entertainments featuring people being baked into pies and eaten (Sweeney Todd opened that week, how could one PLAN that)! Whether all of this makes it into the Squishtoid Manifesto, as metaphor or otherwise, is up to the monkeys. But it begs the question: do we really need this blog revived?

But I digress- of course we need a Squishtoid blog! And where have I been? Well, I did breakdown and take on a temporary day job in a college bookstore to help pay down my credit cards. Other than that, it has been a productive spring /summer, with one very successful show, and two reasonably successful. So I've got a pretty good excuse for not updating, even if the monkeys don't. Other than the statistically long odds of them actually randomly generating anything as hilarious as Titus Andronicus (The Musical)  of course. You'd think the Manifesto would be much easier, but my patience is wearing thin. 

As for the shows, some seemed surprised when sales at the Summer Art Market were unaffected by the relentless rain and chilly temps, but not this little wet duck. After all, if the reaction to a funnel-cloud sighting in '09 was to brandish credit cards and go on a buying spree, then a little English football type weather in honor of USA v England was unlikely to slow them down. 

A couple of buyers took the opportunity to also hop over to Open Press for the final week of my gallery show there, and that led to a small flurry of sales there, too. Then, last weekend saw my first visit to Boulder for their Art Fair on the Pearl Street mall, and sales there were solid, if not as spectacular as ASL, which turned out to be my best show ever. This year is certainly off to an encouraging start. And I've been making lots of friends, though I'm cheating and doing it the old fashioned way, and not on Facebook. 

The most interesting thing to happen in Boulder (well besides the unicyclist in head-to-toe pink spandex; the 9 foot tall hottie on stilts; and the world's worst bag-piper in full tartan regalia setting up shop 5 feet from my booth to practice his medley of "God Bless America", "The Marine Hymn", and "The Pina Colada Song") was the Festival Director walking up to me in 100 degree heat with an old school, county fair-type fluffy blue ribbon and announcing that I'd been named "Best in your category". I wasn't foolish enough to ask what my category was, or how many people were in it. The prize came with a small honorarium which I invested in a fortified grain beverage that has become an integral part of my health regimen. 

So I apologize for not posting sooner, in case anyone may have pictured me holed up in a dive bar, cursing the day I ever left the grocery biz. No, far from it! I spent most of June holed up in a dive bar, cursing the ref! Actually a bit of an exaggeration- I spent most of the World Cup on my couch, listening to the excellent Pablo Ramirez, and puzzling out his calls with my creaky high school Spanish, in order to spend more time shrink wrapping and framing. I did manage to hit the British Bulldog for a few games, including the dramatic USA v. Algeria, from which my ears are still ringing. 

Next up, a return to the studio for some editions and larger works, and then the Denver modernism show in August.  Hopefully, a more regular blogging schedule, too. I raised enough cash for an upgrade to the old iMac and a new iPhone, so I'm thinking that updates will be easier to do, like say, from the British Bulldog. 

Rain, Rain, Raiiin; I Don't Mind

I haven't posted for a while, mostly due to preparations for the Art Students League Summer Art Market in Central Denver. As you can see, weather was less than art show-like. We had a total of 20 minutes of sun all weekend, with serial downpours, and temps so low you could see your breath. I'm still drying out, and warming up.

Somehow, and this is pending a few sales that have yet to finalize, I had my best show ever. At times, I was so swamped, I was pretty sure I was losing sales, and I've gotten two e-mail inquiries since the show ended.

I wasn't the only artist telling this tale, and that's one reason the event is viewed as a can't-miss by many. I actually skipped the biggest football game in 60 years ( USA v. England) to do this show. 

It's surprising that so many shows don't try to emulate the Summer Art Market, with its intimacy, walk-ability and simple, honest entry rules: if it is taught at the school, you can show it. No crafts, no jewelry, no giclees. I have nothing against crafts, jewelry and reproductions (giclees), but they're all available at the mall. If you're going to have an art show, focus on art. The people of Central Denver, and judging by the addresses on the checks, many other towns in Colorado, apparently agree. 

And, I've said it before, when you support the arts ( Colorado's 5th largest employer), you are helping the economy. 

Millions of Monkeys are banging away in the back room on surplus Remington Selectrics, hard at work on the long-awaited Squishtoid Manifesto...well, wait.

It appears they're actually working on the long promised World Cup brackets, actually.

Anyway, it appears the monkeys and I have gotten a bit behind. I've been getting ready for the Art Students League Summer Art Market, the best little street fair in the Rocky Mountains. Making art, then framing and shrink wrapping it, all while preparing to teach a workshop, and doing a small gallery show at Open Press. Though now the Spring workshop has finished, freeing up a little time.

Teaching a workshop has been good. Good for paying bills, good for focusing my thoughts on what I try to do with monotypes, good for making new friends. I’m very happy when I walk into school Tuesday mornings. Do something you love, and never work a day in your life, as the saying goes. I thanked the artists by bringing them donuts. Show people you like them by feeding them gluten, corn syrup and fat, I say! 

 The social qualities of art don’t get talked about. Art is supposed to be good for you, and those who go see it or collect it are generally seen as sophisticated. But the people you meet when you go to art shows, and art fairs and the conversations you have are just more satisfying. Much daily conversation in America seems to center around sports. I have plenty of sporting friends so I am one who joins in. 

 Though sports has a metaphoric value, let’s remember that art IS metaphor. Sports is like weather- it makes for good small talk, but deeper conversations are relatively rare. Art takes friendship into the realm of the spiritual without getting into the tricky, and sometimes contentious area of religious spirituality. 

 I’m including music and theatre in the general term art, but no place is more informal and cheaper to meet people than an art show, especially an opening or fair. And art is Colorado’s 5th largest employer! ( I’m sure other states can boast of similarly surprising numbers). By going to an art show, or taking a class, you not only enrich your own life, you help the economy. 

 One more point. With the extremists mobilizing often from right-wing mega-churches, and using these cultural centers to organize and exchange best practices, the Centrists and Liberals have no equivalent meeting ground ( unless you count PTA's and Universities, themselves often under attack from extremists and tea-bagger types.) Urban neighborhood bar culture and Union Halls used to perform this function, but have been nearly legislated out of existence due to concerns about drunk driving and the prevailing anti-worker sentiment in government. So cultural institutions, from big civic mega-museums to art galleries, music clubs or street fairs will do just fine for starting a conversation. And change begins with EXchange! Sometimes, we have to talk 'n' walk, before we walk the talk. 

This Just In...

The US Men's National Team training camp in Princeton has not provided a lot of news. This is frustrating to fans combing the internets for indications of Coach Bob Bradley's intentions to fill the many question marks in his line up, and Soccer in the US could probably benefit from a small window of media attention that it gets around the World Cup every four years. But it's probably a good thing for the team who are burdened with a double set of expectations. 

The expectations for the US team tend to be framed in the context of a mainstream media that goes into full butt-covering mode after years of explaining away editorial prejudice by calling soccer “boring”, “unathletic” or even, in the famous words of one gridiron shill, “a commie, pansy sport.”

 Informed readers will notice quite a bit of fantastical evaluations of the team from writers who are accustomed to American sports leagues, where a common occurence is a fairly lightly-regarded team getting on a five game hot streak and going to the Super Bowl. This is the same fantasy world where a team from the East can beat a team from the Midwest, and be declared “World Champion”, though neither of them has actually played the world. 

This World Cup is a true world championship, with 200 plus teams starting out, and the last 32 contesting the Cup. Surprises do happen (especially in Mundiales where the host is not particularly strong), but only seven coutries have ever actually won. The wheels of change in International Football turn slowly.

For the players, the pressure to prove soccer is a sport worthy of this sudden media attention is conflated with the pressure to beat teams with far better development systems and experienced players. Those who follow the team know that the reality is that the team is young, and speedy (far from “unathletic”), but still lacks the vision and subtlety of touch required to consistently win at top levels. It will be a step up for them to just play consistent football versus heavyweights or even other pretenders from Europe and Africa, whom they've always struggled against. This year, they are placed in a group composed of just such teams, England, Slovenia and Algeria. 

The first indication of how they'll do comes Tuesday and Saturday, as they take on Czech Republic and Turkey, respectively. These are strong European squads which significantly, got beaten out of WC spots by other, stronger teams, such as England and Slovenia. The Tuesday game will precede the final roster cut-down, the Turkey game is the first tune up with the final squad.  


The games don't count in the standings but are significant for young athletes who must react to the pressure to win a roster spot, and the US team overall will no longer be able to avoid the spotlight. 

Folk and Jazz

Can't believe how quickly the Monotype Workshop I'm teaching at the Art Students League of Denver is winding down! I also can't believe the diversity of prints we continue to see there. Tuesday I did a quick demo on Chine Colle, a sort of collage technique where colored paper is glued onto the main ( usually white) paper during printing. 

Two different approaches are seen here. Barbara (top) laid down a criss-cross pattern featuring the colors of the Italian flag ( turns out she's from my hometown of Buffalo, NY) under a lively, folk art style rendering of a tree. The Chine Colle element adds emotional depth to an already strong graphic.

Beth ( below), has favored experimental modernism since the class began, as in her studio work. Mondrian would have disapproved of her jazzy diagonals and intersections, but our class meets only 3 blocks from Broadway Ave, so he would easily see the "Boogie Woogie" element here. Well balanced color, with blue and black triangles providing a steady beat for the orange, red and acid green. 

I'm preparing a proposal for another, very similar workshop in the fall. I think we had a pretty good time, and I know of one participant, at least, who learned a lot ( the instructor). I'm also teaching a one-day workshop at the League Saturday, Aug. 7. You can register for either right here. 

Want a free sample? Got that, too. Tomorrow at my show at Open Press ( 40 W. Bayaud), I'm doing a demo and gallery talk that's open to the public, with drinks served. That's 2 PM. 

Was going to debut the long-awaited Squishtoid Manifesto there, but the monkeys working at my bank of used Remington Selectrics got a little grumbly when I brought that idea up. Then again, they've been working hard, and so have I. I might have to give us all the entire World Cup off. 

It Begins

Today, the most significant story in sports will come out of Princeton, NJ, though the sports talk wing of right-wing talk radio will work hard to ignore it. The United States Men's National Team will gather for the first day of practice in advance of the World Cup. The Mundial is by far the world's greatest and most popular sports event, despite one "lite" beer commercial repeatedly assuring its empty-calorie-swilling fans that gridiron throwball is "the world's most popular sport". Simply repeating it during the numerous stops in action of an NFL punt-a-thon doesn't make it so, and the World Cup would dwarf a month of Super Bowls. 

The young, speedy American team probably lacks the experience and subtlety needed to go far in the Cup, but the event is significant to Americans in more ways than that. It's being held in South Africa this year, and many would like to see Barack Obama pay a visit (though not the hard pressed South African police).

The symbolic value of this would be hard to miss- except on sports yell radio. The first black President of the U.S. visiting the one country whose record on race is as dark, yet as potentially redemptive, as ours. Throw in the Obama administration's work to repair the damage done to the USA's image by the single-mindedly unilateral Bushies, and the fact that Africa is a continent that could really use a bit of good news, and you can see that football isn't popular just because it's exciting to watch. It really does have the power to bring diverse peoples together, and to inspire hope and change. 

But of course, that's another story you won't find on American sports pages. They get right on those soccer riots, though.