Art Show Stuff

 Art Show Stuff

First, how about a flower?

 

Today is finishing day. Wet, messy finishing day. Next pics will be all shiny.

 It's Friday morning, May 6, and I'm tired. Yesterday was a big day, and today will be bigger.  I've been a day out of joint for a while, now. You know how that is-- you wake up Thursday morning, but it feels like Friday. (That one is always a let down.) Today is Friday, but it feels like Saturday.  Luckily, I have until 3:00 this afternoon to rest up.

Yesterday afternoon turned into a very big deal. It was the opening reception for the Santa Fe Springs Art Fest. I had three stones in the show.

I got there a little after five o'clock. I was rolling through the parking lot, and spotted an opening. "Reserved for Seniors, or Pregnant Women"

Skip that one. There's another! "Reserved for Seniors, or Pregnant Women". The next opening was also reserved. When I finally found an unreserved spot it occurred to me. "Seniors". Uh- that would be me, huh? Too much pride on my part. I ain't takin' no Senior parking when I can walk.

And so I walked down the long column of cars, and down the narrow driveway to the Clarke Mansion where I was greeted by Pam Korporal, from Whittier Art Association. Pam was in charge of the jurors. She sort of took me by the hand, and said, "Come along." Something in the way she said, "Come along" raised a red flag, a little bump of apprehension. I had that sense that something was awry, somewhere.

The festival was a lot bigger than I thought it was going to be, and the fine arts exhibit was the real deal.  The entire mansion had been converted to a gallery, and the work on display was all top notch stuff. 

Of course.

 The biggest local show had been the Hillcrest Invitational, in La Habra Heights, but, like everything else over the last couple years, the virus nazi's shut Hillcrest down. Last I heard, the Congregational Church in La Habra Heights will not be sponsoring the festival anymore. All the artists who would have been invited to Hillcrest were displaying here, and there was some really excellent work on display.

 Of course.

 The lockdowns fucked with everyone. Every artist out there has been going through his own version of this crap, and for these two years no one could display anywhere. Everyone poured their anger, fear, and grief into their work.

I followed Pam down the hallway, and up a flight of stairs to what would probably have been the master bedroom of the big house. The room was reserved for the work of one of the featured artists, Mario Lopez, who had some huge canvases depicting some fantasy tinged Renaissance/ medieval themed portraits.

The middle of the room was taken up with a very long banquet table. Displayed on the table were my stones. 

 

Attached to the red stone was a green ribbon, Honorable Mention. 

Attached to the Figure in Crystal was the Blue.

 Blue, as in First Place Sculpture. 

I got a little dizzy, then jumped up and down like ten-year-old. Oh holy cow! I toured the rest of the exhibit, and found the second, and third place pieces. I can't recall the artists name, but I've seen his work before. He works in exotic woods, and his animal figures are incredible. The last time I displayed at Hillcrest he had sold a piece for some serious money. This made me feel even better. I would not have had my nose out of joint to have taken second behind either of the carvings.

The opening program featured the city council, the mayor of Santa Fe Springs, and even the state senator, and the congress critter. They were all very good at keeping their speeches upbeat, empty, and brief.

Friday afternoon was festival day. There was music, dance, film, art for kids, all kinds of food. And there were people, thousands of them. We saw the young, the old, families with kids, couples out for a date. The mansion/gallery was elbow to elbow all day long.

After two years of isolation, people were hungry for joy. I heard oohs, and ahhs in the gallery space. I talked to dozens of folks about the stonework. I saw other artists talking to people, enjoying the compliments, sharing smiles. A lot of artists sold stuff, and that's always an extra.

 And here is what struck me: all these people were here for art.  Those of us who produce it invest huge time, effort, and money to do so, and generally speaking, we do so without much hope of ever making a dime for it.  Those who came to see spent their time on our work. They came to see what we did, and they all walked away a little bit happier for the experience.

That's the payoff. We work in isolation. We often have no idea of how our work will be received. We know, in advance, that there isn't likely to be any money in it. It becomes quite easy to take that step back, and wonder if the effort is worthwhile. The people who came to see walked away a little happier.  I talked to many of the other artists Friday, and the next day when we returned to collect our work. We all just had the glow. We walked away with a renewed faith that what we do matters.

Saturday night ended late with the top  musicians on stage. A Norwegian rocker named Rocky Kramer  played some straight up kick ass hard Rock. He closed his act with a guest performance from one Prescott Miles.

Who? 

Prescott Miles was the bass player for a band called, The Knack.

The Knack? 

These guys:

My Sharona live. And a frying bass solo by Prescott Miles topped it off. Like it or not we all went home with earworm.

 The top billed act was a singer named Trinere. I hadn't a clue who she was. Old and unhip, I guess. Trinere was one of those pop singers from the 90's who did that sort of disco-pop stuff that I hated, and never listened to. We didn't stay for the whole set.

So the week begins on a good note. Time to get out of the den, and start wet sanding.