Dear Stephen,
I just wandered into a new gallery downtown, and thought of you. A couple hours ago, Pennsylvania was called for Biden and he was declared President-Elect. I'm probably the 20th person to pass the news on to you, we know you'd share the joy and relief. It's sunny and in the 70's, this November day; and almost impossible to stay home. Cars roll past with people honking horns, hollering, banging pots, one blaring an older "F*ck Trump" rap, which draws a laugh from inside the otherwise quiet gallery space.
Not everyone looks happy, though it's harder to tell with masks. People are exhausted; but today, also elated, after days (/months) of dread. It's the first time it feels right to niff around, looking at pretty things. Gutman Gallery opened in February, closed during Shelter-in-Place; and has recently re-opened.
It feels good to be back in the old high-ceilinged Gallery Project
space. I remember sound installations in the basement
and in the darkened backroom, years ago, back before motherhood, when I had ridiculous (read: underappreciated) amounts of free time.
Now we are greeted with paintings on raw edged wooden slabs, jewelry hanging against rough wood; spare, high tables with ornate, mechanical looking legs that hint at robotic functions. Colorful pottery and sharp bags pairing retro-perky 50s male and female characters with splashes of vintage fabrics.
Their holiday
market, featuring 50+ artists, starts today; Friday nights will feature
artists demos and private shopping may be scheduled for small and
cautious friend pods. It feels simultaneously normal and audacious to be
in such a place.
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| Urthy Fiber Arts by Scotty Jones |
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| Kris Cravens Pottery |
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| detailed chameleon, unironically in black & white |
With 68 million+ citizens voting for Trump after four years of his moral bankruptcy, I know we have so much to do in this country; but today, let's settle for happiness, for lightness of heart. Stephen, I feel how I expect Maira Kalman feels during her New York City walks, teasing out the day's surprises, whether they be discarded chairs, or acceptable cafeteria pies. I think of paintings from her beautiful book paying tribute to Obama's inauguration and democracy's promise. I feel it now, the renewed hope, which I haven't felt in so long. And with it, ephemeral delight bursts to the surface, much hardier -- and more crucial -- than we usually give it credit for being.
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| From And the Pursuit of Happiness |
