A Review: Akron ArtWalk, September 5, 2015

On Saturday, September 5th a new friend of mine, Erin, joined me to discover Akron's Downtown in the form of an ArtWalk. A little unsure as to what we should expect, we NEOH newbies (Northeast Ohio for those who are confused) drove into Downtown Akron with visions of the booming Brooklyn arts scene clashing with visions of abandoned steel warehouses and creepy alleyways. I think what we found was closer to Brooklyn...

Akron, Ohio, also known as Rubber City because of the tire industry, is located in the Rust Belt, that economically shocked part of our country that saw the steel, car, plastic, and polymer industry money flood in and right back out again with just as much force. The Goodyear Blimp still flies around here and the mansions still line the streets in certain neighborhoods but the devastation is palpable. As you drive around various parts of Akron there are overgrown parking lots, empty weedy squares where houses once stood, and broken windows in hollow warehouses. I think Akron could identify with Eric Clapton as he sings "Once I lived a life of a millionaire..." Even the river still struggles a bit with healthy levels but has come a long way from the blaze of a dump site it was in 1969. Much like the city.

Amid these gloomy facts are glimmers of flames. That is not Akron's only legacy. Not at all. The rocks and parks and trails and trees are gorgeous. The natural resources are delightful. The Cuyahoga River is rushing and most definitely not on fire anymore. The buildings built in Akron's heyday still stand and command reverence along brick streets. New buildings glimmer with hope for more progress towards a healthy and vibrant community. And, even without the money, tourism, and packed streets of other cities, Akron's arts and crafts scene is active, innovative, and entrepreneurial.

Not surprisingly, The Downtown Akron ArtWalk as well as another recent event called PorchRokr showed an abundance of rust, found objects, industrial souvenirs, and steam punk vibes. But usually not in some kitsch angsty way. I got the feeling that ideas reigned over depression, spirit over gloom. Cool things are happening here.

Erin and I enter the scene. People and energy filled spaces as we followed our map and the delightfully bubble-like stickers from the warehouse studios and Crafty Mart of Summit Art Space to the funky upstairs Ro3 Gallery. The atmosphere was down to earth and inviting. People were talkative, hanging out, meeting each other, showing each other artwork and eating and drinking. I downloaded the Akron Art Prize app for the evening where I could find pieces on display and save them to my list. I had 5 votes to use and I wanted to be sure to choose my top 5 favorites.

Restaurants, music venues, shops, and galleries were all on our map for the evening. We covered as much as we could and could've seen more. A trolley drove about picking up and dropping off happy art seekers. Akron Glass Works was a highlight since they were hard at work in the hot studio. A human anatomy book cut into topographical incisions also caught our eye. We meandered into Urban Eats, a coffee shop/cafe with large plywood pieces on the wall holding graphic black and white stencils. There were multiple paint nights going on in public spaces, giving people a chance to see and experience the process of making. Or remaking. Like Akron. 

Erin and I made our way back to our car and passed a long line of young people waiting for a flashy club to open. The combination of events over the course of the evening surprised us both and prompted Erin to exclaim, "This is actually Akron!" #ActuallyAkron is my new hashtag for the city. #ActuallyAkron is pretty cool. The Akron Art Prize will be chosen and given out at a later event. I'm definitely going. 

 

The Empty House Studio

Back in 2012 and 2013 I ran a little place called The Empty House Studio. Read more on our blog or just get the idea with the mission below:

TEHS inspires, creates partnerships, promotes collaborations, and hosts creativity. 

The mission of The Empty House Studio 

is to provide a place for artists

to create, meet, collaborate, inspire, discuss, and grow. 

The Empty House Studio, an active art studio, is a nurturing space for 

...artists, curators, actors, arts managers, musicians, dancers...

to experiment, challenge their fears, and learn from failures 

through various demonstrations, lectures, classes, 

Happenings and pop-up shows. 

That experience taught me so much about collaboration, good management, and the artistic community's needs. I experimented with events and organizational structure, use of space, broad community acceptance of alternative ideas, and social media. We had a planned termination date, an idea I heard about in my MA program, and worked to fit as much in that time frame as possible. It was crazy, it felt crazy, and I loved it.

Blake Stenning, a fellow Empty Houser and former colleague in the Arts Management program at George Mason University, published an article and photos about The Empty House Studio back in 2013. He recently sent me the article and photos which I shared on The Empty House Studio page but I wanted to share here as well. Find the article below. Enjoy!

Midway through their Fall 2012 semester, GMU Arts Management classmates Sarah Coffin, Christine Bauer, Henri Bielawski discovered they shared a similar dilemma: the struggle to find a balance between their artistic inclinations and management pursuits. Although they were dedicated to learning the skills to become future art administrators, there was a moment of truth where they felt their own personal artistic expressions were becoming increasingly neglected. Soon thereafter, something unexpected happened…

Sarah’s cousins, who currently live in Africa, had just purchased a small bungalow in the Del Ray neighborhood of Alexandria, VA, and asked if she would consider house sitting until they relocated to the States later in the summer. To sweeten the deal, they agreed to allow Sarah to host artistic gatherings there. It was an idea Sarah had to offer like-minded individuals, who longed to engage in communal creative activity, a place to share and to experience the artistic process with others.

When Sarah originally applied to GMU’s Arts Management program, she wrote in her personal statement that it was her goal to create an artistic community oriented around opening one’s senses to experience the world. Suddenly, the circumstances were in place to put her ambition to practice and to apply her learning in a real-world situation while still working towards her degree. Upon hearing about the proposal, Professor Claire Huschle encouraged Sarah to pursue the project as an independent study, and The Empty House Studio (TEHS) was born.

Sarah, along with Christine and Henri, began work on the TEHS’ mission statement and quickly launched both a blog site and Facebook page. Within a relatively short time they had one hundred “Likes”; an amount which has more than doubled as word spread beyond their immediate circle of friends. Beginning in mid-December, TEHS hosted its first of many on-going weekly events. While some of these gatherings have been based on a theme, such as culinary creations or salsa dance, many are unstructured and simply encourage people to show up and be open to new experiences.

During these happenings a trained musician might find new inspiration by experimenting with painting, or a writer might try collage to stimulate a new story idea. The nurturing environment cultivated by TEHS has become a conduit for creativity in all forms, and one feels the palpable energy as a buzz of activity fills the rooms. Many who come for the first time return again as regulars, and each subsequent gathering presents a new opportunity for someone else to join and connect.

This coming June, TEHS will vacate its Del Ray address as Sarah’s relatives return to the US. What happens next has yet to be determined. Whether moving on to inhabit a new physical location, or perhaps, instead, becoming a framework for alternative creative endeavors, TEHS has already instilled in many the spirit of being in of the moment. The message is clear: for those interested in sharing a creative experience with others, now is the time!

Shipping Containers For Everyone!

This old rusty freight container sits in front of some beautiful homes down one of the streets in our neighborhood. But when you really start noticing, there are shipping containers everywhere! They are used or just left and they are all over. I think I need one. I could work a studio in there... 

Space

So here I am, on the edge of the Chesapeake, learning, living, and generally loving life.

Now that the initial suspension of reality is dropping, I am settling into my artistic rhythm again. The work load at the Academy has been difficult to balance, especially with regard to artwork. I didn't expect it to be quite this hard but its a challenge that is growing me in areas of responsibility that haven't been touched. That is a good thing. You can keep telling me that, cause I sure forget some times.

Among the many things that I am learning, I've discovered that space is essential. While learning the ropes in the beginning, my mind was preoccupied and I was hard pressed to be creative. When I was finally inclined to create, I felt claustrophobic with my ideas. I had no where to give space to that creative energy. But creativity doesn't just go away. Much of it was expressed and still is expressed in daily activities, in social creativity: creatively engaging with the surroundings, with the other fellows, and adding or highlighting beauty where I can. I put clippings from outside in vases for the dinner table, decorate spaces, draw in community, encouraging others to creatively engage as well.

Recently a couple donated a bunch of freshly caught rockfish to the fellows (always wonderful to get more food!). I volunteered to write the thank you note and decided to paint them a fish in gratitude:

Meanwhile I am working to create a real creative space for myself. As soon as I've worked that out, I'll post some pictures. I am excited about the secret space I've found and am renovating.

New shapes

I am throwing with my black clay these days. It is always a challenge because of the mess. Normally I could throw, wash my hands, and be ready to walk out the door. But with my black clay, my hands are stained and it looks as though I forgot to wash my hands after applying self tanner with the edges of my palms (where my hands rub on the wheel head)! Aside from that, I love the black clay. It is a fine particled clay and runs smoothly between my hands. The rich chocolate color of the wet clay encourages my creativity and the deep black color showing through on the finished product is my reward.

Lately I have been trying to make shapes that will allow the user to see my carving or wax resist patterns. I don't do either of those decorating techniques on the insides of my pots because cleaning rough clay or tiny carved portions where food sits would be a pain. Functional pots with straight sides to show off the decorations are easy to come by in a pitcher, a vase, or a cup. But to make a bowl with straight sides that is simultaneously open and inviting to use has been a challenge.

Visuals and Taglines

The pictures of the pots below were taken when the pots were all almost bone dry. Bone dry is the stage following leather-hard. So, this is the raw clay. I carved them at leather hard (same stage at which you trim the pot), when the clay is stiff but holds enough moisture to be workable. Once a pot is bone dry it is ready for it's first firing, the bisque firing.
I'm getting into carving my pots. I'm very inspired by my Norwegian heritage and the Rosemaling painting often found on wood. I grew up with this style around our house and my Grandparent's house.
I love to get inspiration from a rich tradition like Rosemaling or from other techniques or artists. Copying can be good practice or a good challenge for learning but for an end result, for a finished personal piece, a copy is usually a stale impersonal imitation of the original. To be successful, graceful, beautiful, and true, a pot or any work of art has to come from within you. An artist ingests what inspires them and the influences around them then continue to work, letting those things come together and come out in their own form, their own style.
For that reason, I try to notice what I like about the Norwegian style and make it my own.

And below you can see me throwing a taller form with my little niece, whom I've mentioned previously, at another wheel. Its nice to have visitors every once and while!

Reorganization

After deciding to embark on this apprenticeship together, my mom and I realized that an overhaul of the studio would be a good idea. I didn't realize as we began the huge task of reorganization how interesting it would be! I was able to think through the entire process and see 30 years of potting from inspiration to finished product.

My mom's studio is in the large, unfinished basement of her house. To the left, you can see my commute to work! The work space is to the right and the kiln is to the left of these stairs.

Since the pottery process has so many steps, I thought I'd give you a simple overview of a pot's journey from beginning to end:

A potter has an idea or sees a shape to emulate. A bowl. A simple, beautiful cereal bowl. The potter draws the shape and envisions the end before starting any clay work (remind me to tell you the story of an apprentice and his "new" shapes).

Then clay is made, either by the potter or a company, and brought back to thestudio. A mass of clay is cut away from the block, wedged (a process to get air bubbles out and align particles. more on that another time), and thrown on the wheel using a variety of tools. Let's pause there. Already, a potter has a pencil, sketchbook, some books, a place to store clay (if not make it!), a wedging surface, a wheel, and throwing tools.

Ok, back to our bowl. So the bowl has been created and is sitting, wet and shining, on the wheel. It is then cut off and placed on a ware board (a board for... ware). After a little while, say an hour or so (depending on the air flow in the studio), the pot is turned over. This is done mostly to even out the drying process but also to ensure a flat rim. After another few hours (or couple days, if covered correctly), the pot stiffens but is not completely dry. This is called leather hard and is the perfect time to trim using a new variety of tools. From here, the bowl dries completely (bone dry) and is fired for the first time. This is called the bisque firing and it readies the pot for glaze.

Pause again. Ware boards, shelves, plastic to cover pots, trimming tools, a kiln... and we haven't even finished. Can you see why this reorganization was such a big job?!

Then the bowl is decorated with any variety of techniques using any variety of glaze materials and must be cleaned and fired again. Following the last few hours in the kiln, firing and cooling, the potter will open the door/lid (better than Christmas) and hopefully find a perfect cereal bowl gleaming and ready for the world.

During the 3 or 4 days that it took to clean and reorganize, I would pick up various objects, books, tools, and drawings and say, "what!?" This lead to stories of where she got a book, what sparked an idea, why there was a book on having a baby in her collection (!), what medieval looking tools are actually used for, and why a certain item had to be kept or put in a certain place in the studio. Every artist has a system for working. And while mine may not be the same as my mother's, glimpsing those 30 years of experience and knowing that I was going to have to work within them was a great forerunner to my humility as an apprentice.