Specifically, wearing white at all when you are an Art Gypsy.
I love wearing white. I love the crispness, the cleanness of white. White shorts tend to make my otherwise scary pale legs look tan, and white shirts or tank tops are just so classic.
But, what I have learned, is that if you want to wear white anything (sneakers, socks, shirts, etc.), you'd better run back to your van or to the port-a-potties and change into them because if you wear one little smidgeon of white anywhere, it's going to be a mess after you set up.
My stubbornness always gets the better of me at setup. Almost all of the shows I do now are in the Kingdom of Florida, and it's hot, no matter what month it is. So, I wear white. Bad move.
I've seen so many Art Gypsies wearing their "I'm An Artist" attire – funky skirts, tank tops with handprinted whatever, beads up the ying-yang, fringy things – but I tend to stay pretty normal, with a pair of shorts, shirt and flip-flops. These other Art Gypsies look so cool and collected, while I end up looking like I just took a swim in a muddy pond.. They set up their tents the same way, get their product out and still have time for a crossword and a latte before the opening bell. I'm sweating bullets, my white shirt is smudged in all the wrong places, and my feet are so grimy from wearing flip-flops you could plant corn between my toes. And I usually end up finishing three seconds before opening.
So, after this last show, the Great Sprinkler Mishap of 2016, I have decided to bow down to the fact that I simply cannot wear white during set up and must build in some clothes-changing time if I want to present a clean and crisp appearance.
Now, all Art Gypsies know that Saturday morning is the ONLY time you can abide being in a port-a-potty.They are somewhat clean, still have tissue available, and if you have to change in them, it's relatively easy. Sort of. Well, not really. Not if you're changing in to white. Because, no matter what, if they are set up on Friday evening, they've collected an inordinate amount of scum on the floor, so nothing you wear can touch the base. There's no where to hang anything. And putting something on the side plastic by the toilet – well, you might as well pick your clothes out of a dumpster.
My solution is now to just give up wearing white until I own an RV, where I can get in, change and be back out in relative cleanliness and comfort. Sunday mornings can be my white days, after a nice hotel stay and a shower. During load out, no-one looks refreshed, no matter what they are wearing, and it's usually a long drive home, and take-out is on the menu.
I'll save white for Sundays.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
The Marvels of Automatic Sprinklers
My first question that morning was: Why in the Bloody Hell is Everything in My Art Tent WET?
My second question was: Is THAT a sprinkler head?
And yes, yes it was.
I was all set up on Saturday morning at the Delray Beach Craft Festival. Now, I generally stay away from straight craft festivals because I prefer to do juried art/fine craft shows, but this was being held
in a popular cultural area of Florida (Palm Beach county), and it was a week before I'm set to go on vacation, so a little extra cash would be outstandingly helpful.
This is a "promoter-run show," which means it is staged, promoted and run by a company whose sole purpose in life is to make their living from filling up 10 X 10 spots in popular cities with artists and crafters looking to make a buck. Most of these places are in public parking lots, mall parking lots, public parks and smaller downtown venues. But, that's a whole 'nother blog post to come. Anyway, the objective is to get as many artists as they can to fill up those spots to pay their application fees and booth fees as to pay for all the public permitting, facility use, staffing, police security, and other sundry costs, and still make a ton of money for themselves. So, the point being, their reputation as a promoter of art shows and art show venues is at stake if they screw up.
Now, I have done many promoter-run shows. Some promoters have a genuine love of the game, and some know that it is just plain profitable. Low-end cost on a promoter-run booth fee is $225. Multiply that by, let's say, 120 (classified as a "boutique" show) and what do you have? $27,000. is your answer. Now, remember, that does not include the "application" fee of (low-end) $15...which adds another $1,800. That is a craft vendor fee. Artists fees are higher (low-end $405; application fee $25)
with food vendors even higher (because they make a LOT more money than artists). Promoters increase their costs down the line to the artists, crafters and food vendors depending on the costs in the area. For example, South Florida venues are much more expensive to promote than Central Florida shows due to use costs, so the fees for Art Gypsies are higher, to offset that cost.
All this to say, we are ultimately paying the entire cost of doing the shows, therefore, we deserve
to have reasonable accommodations, such as (preferably) level ground, space behind the tents to store additional inventory and necessary items, and some sort of security overnight. The other perks, like dedicated parking, booth-sitters and water/breakfast are great, but Art Gypsies are a hearty bunch, and never without our own provisions.
Didn't make money at this show on Saturday, but decided as we were in a seafood town, to at least treat ourselves to great food and music, and then hunker down in the motel for a Golden Selling Day on Sunday.
When we opened the tent on Sunday morning, the place was flooded. Not wet with overnight rain (none). Not wet with humidity (some, but not like that). Wet as in torrential, all-morning SPRINKLERS. And, of course, my booth was set up directly on top of one.
I had pools of water IN my closed plastic bins. I had water-damaged art hanging on the walls (24 pieces in total). My booth banner was soaked, my walls were soaked, my chairs were soaked.
Not one thing was left untouched by the sprinkler, which was finally located under my sales table in the back left corner of the booth.
Now, after my blood pressure and migraine headache subsided...
I asked the two men who "help" out with this promoter show what could be done...they just stared at me with a blank expression and shrugged. Many of the other craft people who do this show on an annual basis, as well as other shows by the promoter, just said they were amazed that no-one told the Tennis Center at Delray Beach (where the show was held) to turn OFF the sprinklers.
I probably have no real recourse, but I will pursue a line of questioning to the promoters on how they could compensate me for lost art. You can bet it will be a question I ask every single time I apply to one of these promoter shows...have you done your due diligence?
My second question was: Is THAT a sprinkler head?
And yes, yes it was.
I was all set up on Saturday morning at the Delray Beach Craft Festival. Now, I generally stay away from straight craft festivals because I prefer to do juried art/fine craft shows, but this was being held
in a popular cultural area of Florida (Palm Beach county), and it was a week before I'm set to go on vacation, so a little extra cash would be outstandingly helpful.
This is a "promoter-run show," which means it is staged, promoted and run by a company whose sole purpose in life is to make their living from filling up 10 X 10 spots in popular cities with artists and crafters looking to make a buck. Most of these places are in public parking lots, mall parking lots, public parks and smaller downtown venues. But, that's a whole 'nother blog post to come. Anyway, the objective is to get as many artists as they can to fill up those spots to pay their application fees and booth fees as to pay for all the public permitting, facility use, staffing, police security, and other sundry costs, and still make a ton of money for themselves. So, the point being, their reputation as a promoter of art shows and art show venues is at stake if they screw up.
Now, I have done many promoter-run shows. Some promoters have a genuine love of the game, and some know that it is just plain profitable. Low-end cost on a promoter-run booth fee is $225. Multiply that by, let's say, 120 (classified as a "boutique" show) and what do you have? $27,000. is your answer. Now, remember, that does not include the "application" fee of (low-end) $15...which adds another $1,800. That is a craft vendor fee. Artists fees are higher (low-end $405; application fee $25)
with food vendors even higher (because they make a LOT more money than artists). Promoters increase their costs down the line to the artists, crafters and food vendors depending on the costs in the area. For example, South Florida venues are much more expensive to promote than Central Florida shows due to use costs, so the fees for Art Gypsies are higher, to offset that cost.
All this to say, we are ultimately paying the entire cost of doing the shows, therefore, we deserve
to have reasonable accommodations, such as (preferably) level ground, space behind the tents to store additional inventory and necessary items, and some sort of security overnight. The other perks, like dedicated parking, booth-sitters and water/breakfast are great, but Art Gypsies are a hearty bunch, and never without our own provisions.
Didn't make money at this show on Saturday, but decided as we were in a seafood town, to at least treat ourselves to great food and music, and then hunker down in the motel for a Golden Selling Day on Sunday.
When we opened the tent on Sunday morning, the place was flooded. Not wet with overnight rain (none). Not wet with humidity (some, but not like that). Wet as in torrential, all-morning SPRINKLERS. And, of course, my booth was set up directly on top of one.
I had pools of water IN my closed plastic bins. I had water-damaged art hanging on the walls (24 pieces in total). My booth banner was soaked, my walls were soaked, my chairs were soaked.
Not one thing was left untouched by the sprinkler, which was finally located under my sales table in the back left corner of the booth.
Now, after my blood pressure and migraine headache subsided...
I asked the two men who "help" out with this promoter show what could be done...they just stared at me with a blank expression and shrugged. Many of the other craft people who do this show on an annual basis, as well as other shows by the promoter, just said they were amazed that no-one told the Tennis Center at Delray Beach (where the show was held) to turn OFF the sprinklers.
I probably have no real recourse, but I will pursue a line of questioning to the promoters on how they could compensate me for lost art. You can bet it will be a question I ask every single time I apply to one of these promoter shows...have you done your due diligence?
We Are Not Alone!
So many times I have started a blog on being an art gypsy, but I have always let something else distract me from it. Namely, work.
Work, work, work.
I'm now more determined than ever to create and continue a blog on what it's like to be an art gypsy. Which is, by my own definition, an artist who takes to the road with tent and art in hand, to sell at festivals across the land.
My own land is currently the Kingdom of Florida, with a four-hour road limit. My partner in the world of art gypsying is my husband, who still Has a Real Job, so we try to limit our arrival and destination times as to accommodate having at least four hours sleep before he has to get up and hit the road again for two hours to make it to his Real Job. I get up at the same time (3:45 a.m.) to make the sandwiches, and thusly cannot get back to sleep...
I heartily welcome any comments from fellow art gypsies (and their sherpas) or followers.
First post on the Marvels of Automatic Sprinklers to follow...
Work, work, work.
I'm now more determined than ever to create and continue a blog on what it's like to be an art gypsy. Which is, by my own definition, an artist who takes to the road with tent and art in hand, to sell at festivals across the land.
My own land is currently the Kingdom of Florida, with a four-hour road limit. My partner in the world of art gypsying is my husband, who still Has a Real Job, so we try to limit our arrival and destination times as to accommodate having at least four hours sleep before he has to get up and hit the road again for two hours to make it to his Real Job. I get up at the same time (3:45 a.m.) to make the sandwiches, and thusly cannot get back to sleep...
I heartily welcome any comments from fellow art gypsies (and their sherpas) or followers.
First post on the Marvels of Automatic Sprinklers to follow...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)