Spring/Break!

No, not the kind of Spring Break where college frat kids run off to Florida for debauched fun in the sun. This is the Spring/Break that occurs in various NYC locations and involves (sometimes) debauched artists running off to have fun in improvised gallery situations...
You will notice (and not comment on unkindly) that the young man (hi Joey!) tasked with assisting me hang my work was... well, maybe two feet taller than myself. He was so tall we really didn't require a ladder. (But then, I admit to being "vertically challenged".) This was immensely helpful however and we did a swell job of getting "Complicit" at just the right height. (Ironically, this piece references me "channeling my inner Ivanka" and we are directly across the street from a Trump Tower. (Groan) But I ask you: could we have a more splendid location?!?)

(Need more proof of height disparities?!?!? That's my piece "Collusion" that we're working on and Margaret's print) Anyway, we got the work up with a minimum of fuss and bother (a few glitches like the suction hooks I bought didn't stick to the frosted textured glass of the doorway partition) and the results were impressive. My fellow Odetta artists (Hi Margaret! Hi David! Hi Ellen!)were set on their tasks and we all managed with a degree of cooperation and good-natured camaraderie.
I managed to find my way out of the rabbit run maze of studios, offices, temporary spaces and get a train and get home to Bob and Robin and Maggie exhausted but happy. This is shaping up to be some adventure! Tuesday- when I next return- is press and VIP day. I sure hope that dignitaries, celebrities, oligarchs and collectors of art show up!*

*They will! This art fair has a great reputation for providing fresh, exciting art and is even considered "the art fair for people who don't like art fairs".

A Million Tiny Letters Make Words

I've been keeping my nose to the (studio) grindstone and am only briefly coming up for air. That's my table, above, covered with minute letters. I promise that later this week, I'll post a close up of just what all those miniature letters spell out. You would not believe the anxiety induced by losing that perfect tiny "L" that you had waited to use. Probably stuck to the end of my nose! (The same one that's been put to the grindstone.)
The project pictured is all about collecting art. Damned if I know what collectors are looking for. No wait, I'm lying. I have a pretty good idea... The text that I am intricately replicating (think: monks stuck in abbeys at long tables, illuminating manuscripts) is from an Art Basel Miami catalog. I am verbatim collage-ing this "brief guide for collectors" in the hopes of deciphering just what it is they're after. After all, every artist (except the fabled independently wealthy ones) needs collectors. Bleakly, I must report that this helpful guide seems intent on recommending collecting only blue chip, name brands (Say, Gerhard Richter or Cindy Sherman). This doesn't really come as big surprise, but it's depressing none the less. What's a lesser known artist to do?
Well, glue a million tiny letters together to make words, for one thing. I am pleased with the way my Collector's Guide is going. I have nine or ten pages of collaged text so far. The base page is photocopied Cartier watch and jewelry ads (those wealthy collectors certainly like pretty gold things!) Interspersed will be images or "picture pages" and a foreword and an afterword with my sage observations and reflections on stalking those illusive collectors.
But I do know this: many artists seem dead set on copying other better known artists or jumping on some established trend. Yeah, I guess that's one way to ensure sales: make sure you're a more affordable, second or third tier version of an established artist. But honestly? Isn't art supposed to be about having an individual voice or a new way of seeing (and presenting) ideas and images? I sure hope so! I have no urge to replicate some other artist's work in the hope some trickle down economics might dribble my way. I may be nuts (try hunting for fifteen minutes for a combination of "m" and "p" together) but at least it's my own personal insanity!) but at least I'm my own kind of nuts.