What would you do? At work yesterday morning I'm going thru my email before jumping into the day's work. There's a message from Pritzker Studio's Yahoo Group about an open call for a project dubbed Artstar (http://www.artstar.tv). The deadline is February 28th. That very day. I check the site and it says the open call is closed. But Deitch Projects is only two blocks from where I work in Soho. So I wander over on my lunch hour for a look-see in the snow, and manage to snag a 5pm appointment, without having waited in line all day as hundreds of other artists have.
Of course, all of my presentation materials are at home in Stanfordville 2 hours away. But I realize I have a presentation on my laptop in the apartment, so I leave work early and grab a cab. The city is getting sloppy and beautiful in the snow.
My partner and total technology department is having a major meltdown when I get to the apartment. He's been all over Brooklyn tracking down a digital camera for our upcoming trip to L.A. The battery charger doesn't work. He's furious. I'd love to be compassionate, but I'm stressed: I've got this major opportunity and only about an hour to pull it together.
I try my best to remain composed, burn the cd (or so I think, but more about that later). I talk him quietly into going to B&H Camera to buy a new charger, in the interest of saving psychic and physical energy. (I've honestly never seen him so worked up.) I trudge out to the snowy streets of the city again.
The next several hours I spend in a large art space a few doors down from Deitch Projects with hundreds of other artists, all looking terribly forlorn and anxious. I go outside with my Krishna Das recording and chant a while in the snow. I buy a few buttons for my partner from one of the artists for $1 each. One says "I hate you", the other, "I am still farting".
Time passes. Groups of about 25 to 30 artists are lined up and marched out into the snow, down to Deitch. Finally, the last of us are called to sit in the white chairs lining one wall. I should mention that we're surrounded by some pretty amazing very large scale work. The gallery lighting is blaring and the noise is the room is the antithesis of relaxing.
I strike up a conversation with the woman sitting next to me: a photographer who travels extensively and is in NY taking class at the International Center for Photography (http://www.icp.org) in midtown. We talk about India, Tibet. She tells me about the cremations and the way loved ones carefully collect the bones and wash them in the rivers in Indonesia.
We talk about why we are at this open call - the kick off for what really appears to be just another reality tv show - albeit with artists. And I have to admit on one of my cab rides, wondering with deep mindfulness: why exactly was I going to all this trouble to respond to something that at its core was not really in alignment with my own aspirations. I know the work that Deitch shows and it's nothing like my own. They deal with a kind of pop cultural renegage. I often love the work, but it doesn't speak to me on a heart level. It's often shocking in a quiet way though sometimes overt: a house made of shipping containers, tatoo-like wall illustration, reinterpreted modern iconographic symbols. It's contemporary culture with an edge.
So here I am, a day later, still wondering in a big way, the way art makes you wonder about ideas, and yourself and the world at large.
But back to the Call. We're marched out in single file down the street to Deitch, where we're lined up in another three lines. The project space is enormous and filled with huge Keith Haring pieces that are immense, colorful and dwarfing. We shuffle. We chat amongst ourselves haltingly. Finally my line is called up and into the space which has tables set up with computers for viewing cds, some light boxes, etc. (Amazingly enough, one of the reasons people have been waiting all day, is that they only have 3 computers available for artists to show work via cd -- and surprise! most artists have brought cds. Shocking to me that a cutting edge gallery project wouldn't have been prepared for this.)
I pop my just-burned cd into the Mac, and wait. And wait. And wait. Nothing. A producer is making the rounds to see if everyone is set up, and tries to help me. We walk from one computer to the next. Still nothing. He takes the disk with him to another computer, comes back to tell me it's still not working. Takes it with him one more time to try in yet another computer. All this time, I'm just calmly waiting. And suddenly it hits me that I have a website - which although not the best reprentation of my work, at least will provide me the opportunity to show something, rather than turning on my heels and fleeing home. I thank the producer profusely for working so hard to help me.
I get my 30 seconds or so with each of the three big poo bahs. Not one of them is remotely interested in what I say or show. A bit disappointing but not unexpected.(In fairness they've been at it all day -- it's now 7pm and they still have 2 more lines to go.) They have more interaction with the girl on my right whose photography of cells is absolutely amazing. And the guy to my left who actually got the ArtStar button for his stacked card structures - no glue, or tape or staples. Just cards.
So there you have it. Hours of waiting for truly less than a minute of less than courteous attention. But, I would do it all over again, given the chance, and here's why:
1. I met Ana, the photographer, who came back to the apartment, and shot me for her Strangers assignment. Meeting other artists is probably one of the best things about being an artist.
2. Noticed how I could rework my still-under-construction website a bit to make it an easier and more accessible presentation tool, for situations like this when I am under the gun and scrambling.
3. A reminder to always have a printed version of my current proposal/presentation materials with me - in the city, while travelling, etc.
4. The sheer thrill and excitement of showing up.
5. Standing on the vestibule chanting in the snow while waiting for my number to be called.
It will be interesting to see what Artstar becomes: where it will be broadcast, and how it will be presented at Deitch. One of the things I spoke about with some of the other artists was my interest in the hundreds of artists who showed up, and the range of work they presented. For this artist, that is of more interest than the final 8 who get to be Artstars.
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