Take An Old Time Stroll With Me . . .

Part I
By S’Zanne M’Chel

I don’t know how you spent your first Sunday in June, but I went for a stroll amongst the artists at the Good Old Summertime Art Fair. I had spent the day before in the sweltering Bradford High School field house attending the graduations of my twin sons. They each attended a different school, so I was there in the afternoon and then again in the evening. It made for a very long and emotional day, as they are my “babies”. I needed a diversion from my thoughts of an empty nest, and figured the art fair would be just the ticket. Besides, the government wanted me to stimulate the economy. What better way than to invest my little stimuli check in the local art scene?
I did have a goal in mind when I set out, other than spending the beautiful day outdoors and not cooped up inside a building. The decorating duo helping me with my bathroom remodeling had recommended that I find something “black” to fit in with my retro style peachy-pink wall tiles, recently textured and painted dove grey walls, and the grey, white, pink speckled floor tiles. Complying with this directive seemed much easier than ripping out the tile and starting from scratch. So I packed my multi-colored shoulder bag with water, camera, and a sweater, and headed off to the fair.

With close to 120 booths to stop at, I knew there had to be a method to my traipsing through Civic Park. I decided I would walk the perimeter. After which I would head up and down the branches of the big X and inner “aisles” in the center. Having chosen to park in the county lot on 54th Street & Sheridan Road, I found my starting point at the North East corner of the park.
The first booth I came upon was one offering knitted shawls. They were lovely, colorful creations that were beautiful, as well as, functional. As I was taking a closer look at the intricate handy work, I heard a little voice inside my head (sounding suspiciously like my ex-husband) saying “But you know how to do this stuff.” I couldn’t reason with the voice by pointing out that my knitting skills are limited to just one basic stitch suitable only to the making of scarves. My crocheting skills are more advanced, but also limited to doilies and blankets. I had to move along empty handed to the next booth to quiet the voice.
Next I found myself in the Lemon Street booth, chatting with a fellow KYC sailing course classmate. As it turns out, her mother is a member artist, and was also in attendance. Small World? Just a very small city we live in sometimes.
I was just passing the food booths, when I became distracted by the bouquet of three glass doorknob garden stakes, the woman approaching me had clasped in her hand. I asked where she had found them, thinking they were somewhere in the wilds of the park. Low and behold, they were just up ahead on the corner with an assortment of decorative lawn and outdoor items that also incorporated colorful glass beads. I was tempted, as they were reasonably priced, and I liked the novelty of them.
Then I remembered my mission; Black Bathroom Art. I turned the corner and continued down the south side of the park. Although I was tempted to deviate from my route by the clothing of Cho Ng, the booth just on the edge of the inner “X”, it was too crowded at this point and I made a mental note to return.
Next I came upon Frank Patriarca and his photographs. His frames are as much “art” as the photos he snaps. I had purchased one of his small, matted tree prints in a wooden frame at the Southport Beach House art event a few weeks back and it now hangs in my cubical at work. I convinced myself that I needed a compliment piece to balance it. Yin and Yang. Besides, his wife makes the most vibrant drawstring bags for your purchases. It’s a “green” thing. I was doing my part for the environment.
All thoughts of my mission fled from my head when I heard the pearls singing to me from the tables of E Originals. “Exquisite Couture Pearls” (as her card states and to which I concur) created by Elise Landry. At first I didn’t hear them, as it was the vision at the entrance of her booth, which caught my eye. It was a striking multi-strand pearl and garnet necklace draped over a dress form mannequin garbed in a red sheath. Elise showed me the various ways you could wear the piece - all the strands in front or in back, or a combination thereof. I could envision the dramatic effect this piece would create with a backless little number. It’s a shame I don’t own a backless little number. I passed on those pearls.
As I moved to the tables, I spied a strand made from various sized, peachy-pink, fresh water pearls. I have pearls, some real, some that are imitation. They are the standard white, and also grey. But NOT pink. I looked for matching earrings, as I’m a coordinate and combination kind of gal. I need my jewelry pieces to match to complete an outfit. Those who know me also know that this goes for my “underpinnings” as well. If it’s pink on the outside, it’s pink underneath. Usually.
Elise heard the sirens’ song the pink pearls were singing to me above the chatter of the fair attendees and music wafting in the trees, and insisted I had to have them. She found a pair of matching earrings. I added to them, a second strand of mini pearls. Talking amiably as I looked through all her creations, noticing the unique closures she was using, trying on the singing pink beauties, and debating (mostly me with myself) whether or not I should allow myself to be swayed by their song, we discovered a kindred spirit within each other. By the time I left her, pearls safely tucked in my handbag in their burgundy drawstring pouch, we had exchanged contact information and were hugging like long time friends. I so love artists and their open natures!
Although there was a bevy of beader booths (say that three times really fast) and other fine jewelry selections, none struck my fancy quite as much as Elise’s couture pearls. I was glad to have forgotten the bathroom art mission long enough to purchase them. And I’ve already worn them to another art function in town. A stimulating purchase which was well worth the price tag. Thank you President Bush.
While standing in Robert Curry’s (Art – Honorable Mention) photography booth, I was a voyeur on one couple’s selection process. They were choosing two pieces. One to be hung landscape, the other portrait in the bedroom. I myself felt pulled to a number of his land and water photos. I talked myself out of them on numerous counts. I own a quantity of photographs or prints in a similar style that remain unframed, and no nearer to hanging than when I purchased them. I still haven’t decided if I’m hanging my collection of trees, leaves, water, and snow in the “Great Room” a living/dining room combination or keeping them in the library.
In the end, I decided that, although black and white photography would qualify for my ‘bathroom art’ it wasn’t really what I was looking for. I’ve since visited his website (www.robertcurry.com) and found that “November Sky” would be a wonderful compliment piece to a reproduction of an ice flow that I picked up from the Milwaukee Art Museum some months back. I believe there may be a Robert Curry in my future after all.
As I rounded the next corner, I spotted a glassmaker. Within his booth, there sat upon a shelf, an opaque, square dish. Black. BINGO! Once home, I found it was perfect to hold jewelry (remember the singing pearls?) and hair ties, sitting on my square pink tiled vanity. My cat has given his stamp of approval for this, as he enjoys fishing out these little treasures. If I found nothing else, I would have satisfied the mission criteria. But, I barely scratched the surface of the fair.
Next was John Schroeder’s antique tin ceiling tiles and birdhouses (Crafts – 3rd place). I immediately thought of my kitchen, which has a birdhouse theme, and for which tin ceiling tiles are being considered for a future remodeling project. Did I mention that I own an older home, approximately 90 – 100 years old? That much of the interior still has the much-distressed original plaster, which needs replacing or creative camouflaging? I think John’s tins would fit the bill, but I need “bulk” pricing. I’ll just have to keep his birdhouses in mind!
Ah, there is Karissa and her Livingston Stoneware. I had discovered her work this past Christmas season, while searching for the perfect gift for a special someone on my list. This is NOT my mother’s ceramics! Karissa is a warm and gregarious soul. I enjoyed the opportunity to converse with her again after so many months and to view a fuller selection of her work than I had previously been able to. I narrowed my choice down to the salsa bowl w/spoon, choosing the bluish/purple and green over the earthy rust and brown. I put in a request for a colander in the future. Since she already makes a nice berry bowl, she seemed willing to try. She also gave me some sage advise for dealing with an issue from my recent divorce. The bonfire is waiting!
I’ve made it to the North side of the park, and find a birdbath and stand with my name on it at the Reckhouse’s Chasing Rainbows booth. These are copyrighted originals that cannot be duplicated. I haven’t a clue as how to do that, so their art is safe with me. The stand came with a tag letting me know this item would rust. With the rain we’ve had since the fair, it has proven to be true. But it just adds to the beauty of it. While having the on-going internal debate of whether I “needed” a birdbath, I over-heard another buyer ask if he accepted credit cards. A common enough question, frequently repeated this day. I myself had asked it of a few of the artists. His response was not a mere “no”; it came with further qualifiers. He was willing to accept cash and personal checks. He figured he was in the right business, because in all his years of doing this, he had never received a “bad” check. Pure luck, or just great karma? With such a positive outlook, how could I NOT add his work to my purchases? Besides, he was willing to note it “sold”, hold it until I was ready to leave, AND load it into my truck.
Finally, I am at the starting line again and am ready to enter the interior. It is a little cooler in the shade of the trees along this path, and the “hint” of a breeze has become more noticeable. So I put on my sweater and head in. Had I only known the treasure that awaited me…To be continued.