Drawings on the Wall

Despite the slate sky and chilly temperatures, we had plenty of help with our chalk-mural wall.

During our annual Holiday Open House, the McGuffey artists provide hands-on opportunities for children (or anyone) to make things. Because of the December date, most artists choose to holiday-themed projects—potato-print holiday cards, for example.

I couldn’t think of what to do, but then I remembered the last time I worked with masses of kids: StoryLine. In that successful project, kids went wild muralling all over the downtown Free-Expression Wall. McGuffey is surrounded by some surprisingly inactive spaces—one might not guess it’s an art center if you couldn’t see through the kaleidoscopic colors through its huge windows. A mural, full of youthful exuberance, was called for.

So I gathered as much sidewalk chalk as I could find, borrowed some hand-wipes from one of my gracious neighbors and that was all my preparation: I didn’t want to plan too much but rather see what would happen if I just turned people loose. I didn’t want to be too loose however, there had to be one rule: no words, just pictures. While StoryLine resulted in something beautiful to behold, the Free Expression wall, which must obviously be completely unregulated most times, is normally a visual black hole. Left unprodded, most people’s expressions are of the “Go Cavs” or “Johnnny {hearts} Sallie” category. I wanted art, not tags.

It turns out that blank canvas syndrome is basic human nature but it is easily overcome. No one did anything when I invited them to just draw. But, when Sebastian and I started in with a garden theme of flowers, houses, balloons, and flowers, people knew what to do and went right to work.

In an hour’s time, the wall was completely filled. Sometimes small children made only wandering lines or squiggles but with only a word or two of guidance, even they were channeling imagery. Parents and children took part in equal measure and as you can see from the photograph, the fruits of their labors were nearly indistinguishable.

Only one family frightened me with what they drew: all three kids, with blank acquiescence from the parents, calmly and systematically drew X’s through every drawing they could reach. What’s with that, I wondered? I challenged them to contribute something positive rather than simply trying to destroy what others had done. Even they came around after a few minutes.

It was a fun adventure and just like happened with the StoryLine, a driving rain quickly eradicated our efforts. It was an ownership stake, even if temporary, on the space and on our ability to create something visual and physical from our abstract thoughts and aspirations.

Next year, maybe we should use paint instead of chalk.

Fair Enough

This view shows one quarter of one of the two dozen art fairs. Granted, it's the largest but that's still a lot of art!

The circus of art fairs that happens every year in Miami can be daunting on many different levels. It’s visually overwhelming to visit a thousand or so galleries in a weekend. The schlepping is almost as taxing physically. Perhaps the hardest part for an artist, however, is the in-your-face assertion of social hierarchy and market-making. It can feel like a punch below the belt.

Because there is no objective way to measure the worth of a work of art, the market is largely built through social jockeying that established hierarchies within each Art World constituency—galleries, artists, and collectors. Position is power and while there is much that is wonderful about such a vast assemblage of creative talent, this event is a market foremost and ugly emotions such as pride and envy are not necessarily discouraged.

I went to Miami to see and be inspired by amazing art, to catch up with friends I see less frequently since moving to Virginia, and—let’s be honest here—to advance my own position within the hierarchy. How does one do that without feeling inferior or without behaving crassly?

These are standard concerns within any marketplace, but with a pretty big dose of salt for an artist since I am my business. There can be no firewall between my soul and that which I produce and sell. A least that’s how I feel. So I wanted to do well but also to stay upbeat despite all this sausage being made around me and I wasn’t sure how I would do it.

In truth though, it’s really just a decision toward the kind of person I want to be: generous, serene, joyful, and the active application of those virtues in my every action. Thinking that way made the whole experience a lot more fun, and probably more successful too.

It’s the only way to live anyway and that’s how I approached it. And you know what? It was a good weekend.