Three Rivers Arts Festival 2013

Chris and I each made a badge at the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh booth, thanks to guidance from these great ladies!

I first started attending Pittsburgh’s Three Rivers Arts Festival in the ’70s after I got out of the service. For years I had this dream of exhibiting there with my own booth. I finally tried in 1986, but was rejected. Then in 1987 I finally made the cut and I felt I made the “big time”. I don’t recall how much money I made at that time, but it must have been enough to keep bringing me back. I did it for five years straight, and then on and off ever since, for a total of about a dozen times. I believe the last time I exhibited was in 2007. On years that we do not exhibit, Chris and I still try to visit the festival at least twice, since artists change every so many days.

I have always had a romantic relationship with TRAF. I love the urban environment! I must admit, set up and tear down in the heart of Pittsburgh is not for wimps. It is a real grind! The weather can be a factor, especially with wind.  The tall buildings in Gateway Center create a manmade canyon that somehow increases (or so it seems) the power of wind during a storm. I feel fortunate regarding my own history with the downtown wind, but I have seen entire booths get swept up and dumped onto Liberty Avenue.

We saw some changes this year. The addition of a weekend portion of the artist market on a closed Liberty Avenue was, in my opinion, excellent. Plus, it gave Chris and I a chance to see the new T Station. I also feel that the Gateway Plaza portion of the Artist Market was less congested then in years past. However, there is always going to be some heavy pedestrian traffic in the market area during the peak hours on the weekends.

Chris and I did not exhibit this year, but we did visit and had a great day! We were especially excited to see Victoria Lavorini, who with her boyfriend Seth Miller, was exhibiting at TRAF for the very first time. Both Victoria and Seth were former students of mine at West Liberty University. Her edgy, energetic work was a wonderful addition to the festival. Below are some photos of our day!

Seth Miller and Victoria Lavorini

Chris checking out the jewelry of artist Memphis George

We bought a couple of “squeeze mugs” from potter Jack Valentine

An example of the what the Warhol Bridge will look like when it is completely yarn-bombed this summer!

This artist created her booth walls using Ikea headboards. They looked like corrugated metal, but were soft and light, and still rigid.

Chris was about these dresses in retro prints.

This artist (sorry…..must track down his name and insert later) and his girlfriend were exhibiting work that contained a strong street-art influence.

Chris with the  sculpture Floating Echo by artist Chang-Jin Lee, under the bridge to Point State Park.

The Art House

Me, Seth Miller, Chris and Victoria Lavorini in Victoria’s booth.

NYC birthday

  My wife planned a trip to NYC for my birthday! Our train left the Pittsburgh station at 7:29….one minute ahead of schedule. We enjoy seeing the morning sun fall on old houses and factories as we pass through several small towns. Our seating area on this train is quite roomy with plenty of leg room. Much more space than either the plane or Megabus, which we used on our last NYC venture.

We made about a five minute stop at Greensburg, PA. From our window, the beautiful Greensburg station gives you a feeling that you are in the late 19th century. Chris noticed the Westmoreland Museum of Art not far away.

Two hours into our trip I see an older Ford automobile dealership. On the front of the building is the familiar Ford oval sign, underneath that reads Impala Motors. I find that funny in my own quirky way. If I keep looking I may spot a Chevrolet dealership with the name Fairlane Motors.

We make a five minute stopover in Altoona, PA. I can see a photographer on a bridge above us. Using a tripod (this lets me know he is serious), he photographs our train. Several more photographers line the track as we leave Altoona. I am totally relaxed, and it feels good. It’s kind of like that miniature train ride at Kennywood Park. Only longer.

We arrived at bustling Penn Station a little after four pm and then on the subway. Took the Blue Line down to Washington Square and transferred to the F train. We checked into the Blue Moon Hotel, then did a quick on-line search for restaurants. We had dinner at an all-vegan Thai restaurant called Pukk, and dinner was excellent! We spent the remainder of the evening strolling our Lower East Side neighborhood.

Thursday morning we headed to the Highline Park beginning at 14th Street. It was already 84 degrees by 10 am, and the Highline was the busiest I have ever seen. From here we walked to several Chelsea galleries and saw well over a dozen exhibitions. Among our favorites on this day was Nicola Lopez at Pace Prints; Polixeni Papapetrou at Jenkins Johnson Gallery (especially the animal head pieces); Nobu Fukui at Stephen Haller Gallery; Judith Schaechter at Claire Oliver Gallery; Bennett Vadnais at George Billis Gallery; and Yoshitomo Nara at Pace Gallery.

A little after 2 pm we stopped at Artichokes for pizza and beer, followed by a walk through of the Chelsea Market. We took a break at the hotel, followed by a film (“Sightseers”), and then took the subway to Strand Books.

Friday morning we visited the Tennement Museum, which included a guided tour of early shop life in the Lower East Side. We then headed to Little Muenster, a cafe specializing in grilled cheese sandwiches, for my birthday dinner. Grilled cheese, tomato soup, and a glass of crisp Pino. Excellent! We met a group in the cafe who were there from Liverpool, England as part of an urban food tour.

We took the subway to 57th Street and walked throug Central Park up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The weather was HOT and humid! We caught the Civil War painting show and the exhibition on The Punk movement. We wrapped up our visit to the contenporary galleries.

Our next stop was the Westside Theatre to see “Old Jews Telling Jokes”. Our subway train was 18 minutes late due to an electrical outage, and we had to walk the last seven l-o-n-g blocks as fast as we could. We arrived at the theatre, two exhausted sweat balls, just seven minutes before curtain time. We were able to unwind and laugh with this light hearted show.

    Saturday morning we headed to Dumbo. As we stepped out of the subway we took a moment to get our bearings. A man walking by noticed our puzzled faces and asked where we were headed. We told him we were going to Jauque Torres for a mocha. The man, who eventually introduced himself as Mark, said, “I am heading that way and I will show you something you have never seen before.” I could tell Chris was uneasy about this.

As we were walking through the tree lined neighborhood, Mark pointed out a group of homes. “That is the last stand of wood frame houses around Dumbo. Because of so many fires, Brooklyn outlawed wood frame houses in 1852.”

That “something” that Mark had mentioned ended up being a new pedestrian bridge that had just opened two months previously. The Sqibb Bridge is a 450 foot wooden span that takes you into the park from the Heights. The bridge cables and supports are situated underneath the walking surface. It has a wonderful bouncy feel to it, and signs at either end of the structure explain that this springiness is perfectly normal.

Mark walked with us to Janes’s Carousel, where we thanked Mark orthe mini-tour and parted company. Chris and I took a ride on the carousel, which I rode as a kid when it was situated at Idora Park in Youngstown, Ohio. The carousel was built in 1922 by the Philadelphia Toboggan Company. I had last ridden it in the summer of 1968, just before leaving for basic training.

Chris and I spent the morning and early-afternoon checking out Smack Mellon galleries on Front Street. We sopped to browse books at Powerhouse Arena and a wonderful lunch at Re-Bar.

After lunch we visited a few more shops and at the spur of the moment decided to laugh at the near 90 degree temperatures and oof it across the Brooklyn Bridge. The walk was toasty, but enjoyable as we strolled through a sea of diversity that is NYC.

    As we entered Manhattan, we spent a few moments watching street performers in a nearby park. Afterwards, we caught a subway and back to our hotel. We rested for half an hour, and then it was back to the streets for dinner. We were walking to a veggie restaurant we know called Quantam Leap. We were crossing through Little Italy and I sobered a street fair in progress. We decided to change our plans, and have dinner here t one of the outdoor cages. Our dinner and wine were excellent, and we enjoyed watching the pocession fo St. Anthony that came past our table, complete with band.

Our bellies full of pasta and wine, we walked back to our hotel. Twice we missed the street of our hotel and had to turn around. Our bed welcomed us with open sheets and we rested for our return trip home to WV the next morning.

 

Clothesline

I was on my way to the post office this afternoon when something caught my eye that I had not seen in a long time: a clothesline. With real clothes hanging from it. With clothespins. You are probably thinking why am I making such a big deal about it. I guess it’s just at that moment I was transported back to my childhood, picturing my mom hanging our clothes out to dry. Even when we finally got an automatic dryer, my mom would still hang clothes if the weather was cooperating.She said it just made the clothes smell fresher.

Back then there were a lot of moms hanging clothes in the backyards of our street. Lots of conversations took place over and under those clotheslines. “Hey Irene!” Mrs. Bonatatti yelled from her yard one morning, “Guess what I found in my basement this morning!” “What’s that?” my mom hollered back as she reached into the clothespin bag. “A snake! A big ‘ol black snake! I killed it with a hoe!” Unbeknownst to my mom, that was my black snake which I had just released the day before in the vacant field next to the Bonatatti house. The snake was living in a cage in our basement, and had recently bitten me on the toe. I figured if he was getting that high tempered that it be best that I let him go. I felt bad that he died such a horrible death, but I sure didn’t lead on that I knew anything about it.

When I cought a glimpse of the clothesline today, I parked my truck and walked about a block with my camera. Just as I was about to take my photo, a man walked into the yard carrying a gasoline can. I know he saw me, so I yelled out,”Excuse me sir!” He just looked at me. “Sir.” I said again, hoping to get a response. I got a low kind of…well….grunt. “Sir, I just want to take a photo of your clothesline.” “It’s not mine! he yells, somewhat irritated that I am even bothering him, “It’s her’s, downstairs!” as he points to a door to a lower-level apartment.

“Well I just want to take a picture of it, you know”….(and here is where my brain goes to mush)…”to show my kids. You don’t see clothes hanging out to dry anymore.” Now my “kids” are all adults and I am sure that my photo of a clothesline is not going to impress them, but that is all I could come up with! “I’ll just go ahead and take it then,” I said. He makes a quick motion towards that basement door with his free hand. Now I read a book years ago called “Body Language”, and what I read from his body language was this: Just take your damn photo and leave me the hell alone. I did, and I apologized for my interruption. (He had one of those kind of faces that keeps one apologizing a lot.) “‘At’s allright”, he grumbled.

ANd one more thing. I thought that line full of clothes would make an excellent subject for a watercolor painting. I’ll put that on my to-do list.

Have an American Picker Experience

I’m often asked if I watch the television program, American PIckers. I have seen a few episodes and I really don’t care for show. Here are these two antique dealers who drive around the country looking for treasures in old barns and out buildings. They have an uncanny ability to turn the property owner’s brain to mush, enabling the “pickers” to fill their van with antique goodies at a fraction of their true value.

Wait….did I say FILL their van? Ha! Here is why I think the show is pure BS. These guys only buy three items at time! That’s right, there could be a barn packed with goodies from top to bottom, but they buy an enamel oil sign, a cement cat sculpture, and a rusted engine from an Indian motorcycle ……..and then they LEAVE! Look, REAL pickers would not leave until (A), they ran out of cash; or (B), the van was so full that nothing else could possibly be shoved into it.

Last month, Chris and I were visiting family in Arizona. Outside of Phoenix, along with our friend Dan, we stopped at a roadside antique shop  with several pieces of furniture lined up along the highway. As we pulled in front we saw a hand-painted sign that read “Have an American Pickers Experience”. The shop was jam-packed, as were the half-dozen or so out buildings on the property. We had a fun time looking around and I did purchase a few items to use in artwork. The owners were were very friendly and we had a fun visit. I’ll the photos tell the rest of the story!

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Tin Can Collage Workshop at Pocosin Arts

Pocosin Arts is dedicated to nurturing creativity through arts education.  Located a few steps from the banks of the Scuppernong River, the center is surrounded by water, wildlife and the natural beauty of Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, making it an ideal place to leave your daily routine behind and immerse yourself in one of their creative workshops.  Pocosin Arts offers evening, weekend, one-day and one-week workshops in metals, clay, photography, drawing, painting, textiles and others.  Now in its 13th year, each February Pocosino Arts hosts a 4-day retreat, Cabin Fever Reliever, bringing artists from all over the country to teach workshops in all media.  Pocosin Arts also offers artist residencies that are tailored to the needs of individual artists. In February 2012 I was invited by Pocosin Arts Program Director, Marlene True, to teach a tin can collage class at Cabin Fever Reliever 2013. My wife, Chris, agreed to be my assistant and make the drive to North Carolina. Our experience was wonderful and it was such a pleasure to make so many new artist friends. Chris and I enjoying a cool sunny morning before classes begin.

This shear was provided for our class and I liked it. A bunch.

Oddities

I was 13 years old when I visited my first sideshow or “ten-in-one” at a carnival in Weirton, WV. I still recall all the acts that were in that show, and I recently decided to revisit four of those acts by creating a series of mixed media works for Oddities: The WLU Art Faculty Exhibition.

The barker was at a podium on a wooden platform in front to a huge tent. In front of him was a large spool of tickets. The tent was covered with illustrated banners showing us the wonderful oddities that we were about to see, as the barker kept repeating at the top of his lungs, “They’re ALIVE…..on the INSIDE!” Imagine, I thought, all this for only 35 cents!

To a kid, the bulldog lady did indeed look like her namesake. The barker spent several minutes telling the audience about the history of the bulldog lady. The climax came when the carnival barker removed the lady’s veil. For an extra ten cents we were invited behind a curtain to see her dog-like limbs.

The pinhead man had the most intriguing banner on the outside of the show. On the banner, his head came to a point similar to a pencil. Sharp! In person, he did have a pointed head, but it was a somewhat softer, smoother point, and a bit rounded at the top. I remember he looked sad, did not speak, and just stared into space. I felt bad for him, without really understanding why.

The world’s smallest policeman was just a little person (or “midget” as we said as kids) in a police uniform. I had my doubts that this was a real policeman, but this was the first time I had ever seen a little person outside of TV or the movies, so I thought it was still pretty damn cool.

The sword swallower started his act with a small sword not much bigger than a hunting knife. He demonstrated his abilities by using a series of swords, each one longer than the previous one. Before putting each sword into his mouth, the man would bang the tip of the sword on the wood platform to show us that it was real. To close his act, and as a way to quiet those in the audience who doubted his abilities, he put a long, yellow florescent tube down his throat. I still remember how his chest glowed.

Working with collage and paint was a nice switch from my usual studio work in cut tin and assemblage. I have been thinking of ways to combine my tin work with paint and mixed media, so perhaps this process was actually warming me up to go in that direction.

Tin Can Workshop for Kids

This past weekend I taught a tin can workshop for kids at the Society for Contemporary Craft in Pittsburgh. These young artists spent two days cutting and pounding their way through a pile of metal product containers, as well as going through a stack of band-aids. A couple of SCC staff members got involved in building a tin collage as well. Check out the photos showing the process and the results.