GO Art Festival: Part V, Latourelle Falls

Latourelle Falls, Oregon

by Brad Malone, 1997

GO Art Festival: Part IV, Prickly Pear

Prickly Pear Blur

by Brad Malone, 2007

Go Art Festival: Part III, Manic Marigolds

Manic Marigolds

by Brad Malone, 2007

GO Downtown Art Festival: Part II, Just Do It

Impasto Burnt Orange Array

by Brad Malone 2007

As the first day of the GO Art Festival approaches, we've been furiously preparing all of the final pieces of the art puzzle that will be our booths. As I said in my last entry, staging an art show is like opening and closing a small business in a matter of a few days. There are so many little chores to do that you might lose sight of the forest for the trees.

So, here's the list of To Do's leading up to the show as presented in my last entry:

1. Make art
2. Find a show to do
3. Submit your art to the jury
4. Design a booth
5. Take care of business items.

All the work necessary before the show even begins is a bit daunting. What I have decided to do is to relax. First and foremost is the art. The business side of decisions will work themselves out. Although lots of money would be nice, I'm not doing the art show to satisfy some kind of economic need. I'm showing my art.

If people love my art, that's wonderful. Hopefully someone will buy something. If people think my art is mediocre, that's too bad. I'm not so much a narcissist to believe that everyone will love what I do.

Critiques and criticisms will undoubtedly happen. Will they prevail? No. It is what it is. No one can take the pure joy of creating art away from me.

Continuing the discussion of "How to Stage an Art Show," we get to #6: Decide what pieces you're going to put into the show. In the final days leading up to the show the actual creation of art slows to a crawl or stops altogether. I've got lots of artwork that I want to show, but it can't all go into the 10 by 10 booth.

This ain't' easy. I like everything -- sort of. But, a few pieces haven't turned out well. They haven't printed as I thought they would. The color is off. They're fuzzy. They are mediocre. They're out. Bye-bye.

Some pieces are too good to leave out. Put them in.

The final consideration in what art goes into the show is: are you going to confuse people? Have your art been progressing from one style to another? Has it transformed from one thing to another? You might confuse your audience with that transition. Show your older pieces carefully or not at all. Stay with the new.

Last year I made the mistake of trying to have too many pieces of art in my space. It created a sense of confusion and looked unprofessional. So, this year, I'm limiting my total number of pieces to no more than 30.

One of this year's rules is that I will only show one (maybe two) things that I had in last year's booth. Everything else is new. Out with the old.

The seventh step is staging an art show is: Get your art ready. Unfortunately, for me to stage everything the way that I want to, some of my pieces will have to be printed in large format and framed. That's going to cost a lot of money. I don't have a large format printer. So, I've had to research who does that sort of thing and how much they charge.

For the last two years, I've used a great printer in Dixon, New Mexico who is completely Internet savvy and can do most everything digitally. Jeff Spicer at Oil & Electron has been instrumental in helping me get large format pieces into the show at affordable prices. He makes giclee prints in sizes above 20" across. Giclee is a digital printing technique that uses dyes instead of inks. These are considered archival, museum quality prints. Last year, I used Jeff to print my Twin Towers Memory piece. This year, I used him to print a 30" by 50" print of Manic Marigolds.

Since it wouldn't be wise to clutter my booth, I know that I can limit my expenses by framing a certain number and leaving a small number unframed but mounted and matted.

Getting the art ready can be a purely financial process unless you make some tough choices. For example, if I could only afford to have two pieces of amazing art in my booth versus a dozen so-so pieces, I would only have two pieces. As I've said before, don't let the pure business side of things govern your art. Show your art.

The final step in staging a show is simply this: show your stuff, baby. GO! Enjoy yourself. Welcome people into your booth. Talk to them about your work. Give them space and watch them react to your stuff. Answer their questions. If you're a salesman, then sell. Otherwise, let the art do the selling.

My next post will be pictures only. Hope you enjoy some of them.

GO Downtown Art Festival: Part I, Getting Ready

A few years ago I started getting serious about making artistic images out of my photographs. This meant that I scanned my photos, slides and negatives -- thousands of them -- into my computer and began applying special effects and other digital techniques to them. It was a lot of fun and a few of the images really turned into art.

Then came my move to New Mexico. People in the art world know this: New Mexico is an art capital. It's where famous artists have lived for years to make their world renowned art. It's where famous artists from around the world come to sell their art.

There are dozens of art festivals and hundreds of art galleries in a state with less than 2 million people. Santa Fe claims that it is the #2 or #3 art market in the United States (depending upon who's counting).

More than that, New Mexico is where art is an integral part of the daily fabric of life. Until I moved to Albuquerque, if I had told anyone that I was pursuing my art, the reactions would have been overwhelmingly negative. "Really?" they might have said. "Art? Starving artist and that whole thing, right?"

Let's face it, in most parts of this country telling someone that you're an artist is the same thing as saying "I'm a lazy slob with no dreams and no ambitions. I'm hoping to live off of my parents until they get sick of me and throw me out. After that, I'm going to flip burgers or sell electronics in a dead-end job and stay stoned all the time." The very moniker 'artist' is a euphemism for 'loser' to most Americans.

Not so in New Mexico. Artists in this state are respected and loved. People here can tell the difference between a real artist and an alleged artist. They know because of the spiritual connection everyone in this state has to art itself.

If New Mexicans cannot see or feel that art in you, they know you're just another lost soul still seeking. When you tell someone here that you are hoping to become an artist, they enthusiastically quiz you about it. "What kind of art? Oh, that's so cool. Have you ever heard of so-and-so? They do something similar to that. A friend of mine / family member / neighbor is an artist. They do the New Mexico Arts and Crafts Show every year."

You can't escape it. You can't deny it. Art is part of life itself in New Mexico.

Last year, Michael and I decided we wanted to do an art festival. What we didn't realize was the all the money and work that went into actually staging a booth. I'm not complaining, mind you. Instead, I thought I should share some of the ups, downs, ins and outs of the experience for anyone who is thinking about doing an art show anywhere in the United States.

To summarize the experience: having a booth in an art festival is like creating an entire small business venture that intentionally opens and closes within a few days. You're striving for some measure of success, but you know that everything will be over quickly. You seek a balance between the personal reward of showing your art and the financial reality of covering your expenses.

For me, the primary reason that I entered my first art festival was to show my art. It was not to make money. If ever you find yourself primarily interested only in the financial aspects of your art, you're in trouble. No doubt about it, art is big business involving big money, but art festivals are about exposure. You're not going to become a multimillionaire at an art festival.

You might, on the other hand, make contact with a broker, dealer or gallery owner who will help you stage shows in galleries or find people who want to collect your art. That's where the money is. Don't rush it. Do the festivals. Have fun.

Caged by Brad Malone, 2007

This year's show is September 28, 29, and 30 on Gold Street in Downtown Albuquerque. My booth will be between 4th and 5th Streets.

First things, first. Make art. Have fun feeding your soul. Make more art. Experience personal growth. Find your spiritual center. DO NOT think about what other people are going to say or think or feel. If you're new, simply do your thing. Whether someone likes you or your art should not drive your production of art. You are a creator first and foremost. The business side of things comes later.

Second, research the shows in your area. Most major metropolitan areas have several art festivals a year. For example, here in Albuquerque, the major shows are the Weems, the Rio Grand Arts and Crafts Festival, and the New Mexico Art and Crafts Festival. But you don't have to do the big shows. In the Albuquerque metro area of just over 800,000 people, there are literally dozens of other smaller shows staged by organizations as diverse as elementary schools and neighborhood associations.

Third, almost all festivals are "juried" to protect those staging the event. This means that you'll have to submit three or more images of your work for a jury of artists to review to make sure that you're for real. The big shows require that you submit a picture or a drawing of your booth design as well. This is where the dollar signs start appearing before your eyes.

Fourth is design. Yep. If you're required to submit a picture of your booth, the festival organizers are telling you that they don't want amateurs. They want professionals who will take the time and spend the money to set up a miniature art gallery. You can spend a few bucks with plywood or pegboard or you can go 'first class' with a professionally built booth costing thousands of dollars. Ask yourself: Am I planning on going on the Art Festival circuit? If not, get something less expensive.

In my first year I chose pegboard. I hung it from the frame of the booth and hung my art from the pegboard. It cost under a hundred bucks. This year, however, I've moved up a notch or two to something known as gridwall. Amazing stuff. Steel grid that can hang, be mounted to walls or be set up on stands made specifically for the product. It's a more polished look and the prices aren't that much more than sheets of high quality plywood.

Next year, who knows? Fabric lining behind gridwall? Special lighting? Red carpet?

Fifth, is the pure business stuff. In most locations, you have to get a business license, meaning you have to get a tax ID. These two things are rarely issued at the same place. One might be a State agency and the other a City agency. Get those taken care of and you're on you're way to conducting actual business at that festival. Unfortunately, you'll have to pay fees for the business license. Don't worry, keep your receipt -- licensing fees are tax deductible.

My next entry will dig a little deeper into my own personal experience staging a booth in this year's GO Downtown Art Festival. Stay tuned and thanks for reading.

Art Show Break

It's been about ten days since I've posted an entry. But with good reason: the GO Downtown Arts Festival is upon me. The month of September has required my full-time attention to the show.

This brief blog entry is to let my faithful readers know that I'm still committed to sending Notes from the Hinterland into the world of the web, but I'm a little distracted. Please forgive me.

My next few entries will detail the work involved in staging a booth at an art festival. It's amazing. Plus, I'll be posting a few of my pieces here for the world to get a better look at.

Come on down to the show. September 28, 29, 30 on Gold Street, Downtown Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA.

I've been watching with great interest the recent developments regarding the former Fed chairman and the name-calling going on back and forth. You can count on a few comments upon that situation.

Also, I've gotten fed up with the commercials running on TV lately regarding "surrender" in Iraq. I want to know who is in favor of surrender. Do you know? Oh, that's right, the enemy wants us to surrender. What about Americans in favor of surrender? Do you know any? Please post their names in a comment to this blog entry. That way, we'll all have a chance to look into the matter -- the truth of the matter, that is -- when I return.

Sightings: Steamroller Mama

It was one of our first "Sightings" here in New Mexico. Remember, Sightings require that everyone's jaw involuntary drops and that at least one witness does a double-take. Words like "Did you see that" and "What the . . ." are also mandatory for official Sighting status.

Driving east out of Albuquerque, IH-40 winds its way through Tijeras Canyon. It's the old passage used by Native Americans and early settlers to get from the High Plains on the eastern side of the Sandia Mountains to the Rio Grande Valley on the western side.

Construction is ever-present on our nation's freeways and the miles through Tijeras Canyon are no different. One day on a trip through the canyon we encountered Streamroller Mama.

Traffic had slowed to a crawl in the construction zone. With only one lane open in each direction, cars and trucks were lined up for miles. Slowly, slowly we inched along talking and listening to music, catching the occasional glimpse of an actual highway construction worker.

At one point we spotted everyone's favorite comic relief piece of heavy machinery -- the steamroller. Its huge "wheel" has mashed, squashed, pressed and flattened many an actor or comedian over the years. It's always good for a giggle.

I sometimes imagined myself driving a steamroller just to see what I could mash. I think I would start with dozens of watermelons and work my way up to my old Ford Explorer sitting with a broken transmission in my driveway.

But this is a Sighting, remember.

Steamroller Mama drove the steamroller. When we saw her, though, we didn't necessarily envy her as much as wonder how the heck she got up on the thing. You see, Steamroller M. weighed at least 300 -- possibly 400 -- pounds.

She was sitting, we presumed, atop a seat that was not visible. Her huge arms extended over a steering wheel. She wore a hard hat, but her features were unmistakably feminine.

She, too, was driving east. Because she was driving behind the construction barricade where there was no traffic to slow her down, she passed us. Our Sighting that day passed within ten feet of us -- that's right -- on a steamroller.

But wait. There's more! It wasn't enough that the fat lady was driving. No. . . she was singing. Yes, singing at the top of her lungs. We couldn't make out the song, but she was clearly enjoying herself. Life on the steamroller appeared to be good for Steamroller M.

How do you quickly describe what we saw without being offensive? Not easily. I understand the power of words to be hurtful, but I'm sorry this was an extremely fat lady singing on a steamroller.

The opera was officially over, folks. The fat lady sang. She sang and drove by at what must have been a whopping ten miles per hour. She was the star in an opera of the absurd happening right before our eyes. No tickets required.

We inched along on our side of the barricade and encountered Steamroller M. again as the construction zone ended. The steamroller had stopped. She was sitting atop the giant comedic machine staring straight ahead as we drove by. Singing.

Sightings: Goat Rider

Although much continues to happen regarding the mortgage industry meltdown, the house flipping and mortgage discussion will have to wait until after a "Sighting" entry or two.

Albuquerque has over half a million people in its metro area. Two major interstate highways intersect near downtown. There are miles of what might be considered urban freeway through the area.

So, I'm driving down IH25 from work one afternoon last March. It's another pretty day in a long line of beautiful days. Traffic, as usual, is relatively light with the occasional crazy Indy-driver wanna-be.

The radio is playing garbage mixed with commercials.

The Sandias move past on the left as I drive south. Jumping skyward a mile above the city, they dwarf this man-made world along the highway. I promise myself that I'll hike up there again soon.

Just ahead in the right hand lane a old white truck is pulling a flat-bed trailer. The trailer is about 18 feet long. It has metal-framed sides about a foot high.

There's something on trailer, but I can't tell what for sure. I pull into the passing lane and begin approaching the truck and trailer.

It's coming into focus. It's head is down. Ropes are tied to each of its four legs from each of the four corners of the trailer. It's got horns.

It's a goat. It looks really pissed.

Travelling at least 65 miles per hour down the freeway is a truck pulling an open flat-bed trailer with a goat --head down -- riding in the middle.

A goat.

As I pass the truck, I glance at the driver. He's simply driving the truck. Oblivious that something is amiss, he's simply driving.

Did he know that he was driving along an urban interstate? Did he know that what he was doing was wrong? I think not.

Where was he going? Did he make it to his destination? I'm asking about the goat. I hope he made it safely.

I wanted to follow the Goat Rider that day, but I thought better of it. Still, witnessing this "Sighting" really got my goat.