Archive for July, 2009

Tom Colicchio’s Real Craft

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I doubt New York City’s Craft restaurant, chef-owner Tom Colichhio’s flagship on E. 19th Street in Manhattan’s Flatiron District could have come at any other moment in culinary history than when it did.  Nor could his Craft empire which presently includes Craftsteak, Craftbar, and ‘wichcraft and spans the US from Atlanta to Las Vegas have thrived the way it has.  William Grimes, then restaurant critic now Obit writer for the New York Times captured the essence of Craft in a December 2001 review.  Here’s what he had to say:

“Craft invites diners to take a trip.  The destination is a simpler, cleaner, more honest America, a place where the corn is bright yellow, the bread exhales clouds of yeasty sweetness and the fish swim in water as pure as Evian.  It’s a vision of food heaven, a land of strong pure flavors and back-to-basics cooking techniques.”

And when was this written?  Mr. Colichhio’s restaurant opened shortly before the terrorist attacks of September 2001; Mr. Grimes’s words flow from the open wounds of a country struck by an incredible catastrophe, and its hopeful longing for resolution.  Food is the remedy here, which Colicchio crafted up not a minute too soon.

Colicchio’s return to a simpler way of treating food, one that defers to its innate qualities was a refreshing practice in the era of vertical food.  The 1990s was a decade when on trend chefs were plating increasingly tall visual presentations, as if a perfectly balanced tower would suggest that the elements comprising it would be, by proxy, just as harmoniously balanced on the human palate.  Colicchio eschewed “culinary theatrics” in favor of an ingredient-driven approach to food and dining.

In suit, the menu at Craft attests to a pared down dining experience, where the diner selects a meat or fish by its preparation and a side from a no-frills list.  Nowhere does an inflated description distract from Craft’s credo:  skillful preparation sympathetic to once again elevating food to the starring role.  While Colicchio’s craft may seem simple, perhaps obvious, he is actually part of a long lime of crafters that have confidently “revolted into the past” to offer the jaded something seemingly new.  Like a good crafter, Colicchio seeks integrity in material and form.

Americans were ready for Craft.  The 90s culinary scene bombarded diners with empty promises:  food that was too often too difficult to eat, if physically satisfying at all.  The aftermath of 2001 required a craft that was sensitive enough to offer succor to the wounded spirits and palates of Americans.  The last thing New Yorkers wanted to digest were bits and pieces of a toppled tower of shaved tuna draping over a single fava bean.  The food had to work on the human plane — a safe distance from the verticality of skyreaching food that all too easily can crumble to an indiscernible mess.   Craft gave the people what they didn’t know they needed.

I am including links to a few video interviews and articles covering the rise of Craft.

Yoga Is Physical and So Is Craft

The below is insight from an amateur perspective.

How quickly the crafter’s spark can be extinguished!  I have noticed lamentably that I would be able to be content if I never crafted again, that I could survive happily on the positive energy from a previous accomplishment for the rest of my life.  But, I grasp that I can’t stop at the point of a singular success each time my eye catches a glimpse of the lighthouse etching proudly propped beside my monitor.  Although I remember how proud I was at its unveiling, I do not feel that pride surging through me.  If you have no clue what I’m getting at, rethink how you feel the moment after a great workout at the gym, how high and how perfect you feel.  How then do you feel after you haven’t gone for an entire week?  Lousy, right?

My yoga teacher said a few things this morning that resonated with why I sense it is meaningful for craft to become a part of my weekly, if not daily, routine.  She said that “We practice and perfect the physical (yoga) to get better at being ourselves.”  When we botch a pose, forget to breathe or topple onto our heads, we are really working at rooting ourselves to something greater.

I can 108.7% attest that craft is physical.  I have two angry, red scars on my right forearm and a strained, frequently numb, thumb.  I’m absorbing the idea that craft is on some level a physical expression, which makes it a bit more gritty, even edgy — not like a hobby or something, if I were to stereotype.  It’s active, risky, and painful, challenges that when confronted become triumphs of the self.

Craft is a muscle that requires practice to develop.

Setting Yourself Up for Success by Taking Matters into Your Own Hands

My mantra as far back as I can remember has been to never hesitate to ask for what I want, politely of course.  I am sure you will agree that often we find ourselves playing the role of the other person, assuming that he or she would undoubtedly say “no” or “that is absurd!” to our suggestions and requests. This fear of rejection stifles us from pushing past pre-conceived boundaries, ultimately setting us up for stagnation in our careers, personal and social lives.

I have been told to buzz off my fair share; I feel you on this one.  However, I have also been unduly surprised what a little bit of humility and blind faith will do for getting what I want, need or feel is best.  Just ask!  Last night was one such surprise in which the evening wound down with my being appointed a board memeber of the New York chapter of the Wisconsin Alumni Association.  In this position, I will parlay my enthusiasm and knowledge for the arts into this year’s happenings for the Cultural Committe, which I am also heading up.

The events that led to this appointment began last fall when I contacted the Alumni Association about starting a book club.  I remember that my request wasn’t met with equal enthusiasm, so I put the idea on the back burner and let life take over.  I knew deep down that my character wouldn’t stop with that answer, that somehow I would find my way back to the idea and make it happen at a later date.  In a previous post, I spoke of the success of our first meeting by sharing a letter from a book club member shortly after our first meeting.  By not stopping with my goal to start this club last fall and carrying through my original committment, I was recognized on a larger scale by the entire Alumni Association.  I do feel that I am cultivating, crafting perhaps, a greater sense of self through persistence.  I hope that this positive energy leaks into your daily lives as I also hope it propels me to forward on this crafting journey that I share with you here!

Now, perhaps I should get our club involved in craft?  I could host a crafting party or I could dispatch them to the streets and fairs to help me lure (I’d prefer honestly convince) crafters to this site to fill out the “What is Craft Today” online interview!

Not a Julia Child

So absurd, I had to share.

Grotesque, but I hate wasting anything, especially when the economy is in a frightful state. Because I decided to multi-task last night by preparing an elaborate dinner with a slew of ingredients and tackle making the next day’s pizza dough, which unsuprisingly wound up a goopy mess.  I had a feeling the pizza dough project was doomed for failure when I attempted to divide a whole wheat pizza dough recipe in half because I only had 1 packet of yeast.  Now, I’ve made a few swell doughs before this, and it really is easy if you have patience, the ability to follow directions precisely, and proper ingredients.  As I had none of those assets to speak of, I anticipated a flop.

I pulled all types of shenanigans to get the yeast to react to the way-shy-of-115-degrees luke warm water, placing the bowl inside a warm oven, covering and recovering the bowl with plastic wrap and pot lids, and finally STIRRING it.  Amazingly, the dough did rise half way and I decided to work with it.  There was no way I was going to try to make a pizza out of it and risk wasting beautiful ingredients on a floury, flat crust, but why not dough muffins. Mmmmm… a crafty solution to a crappy situation?

I really do applaud my creativity and my willingness to expose this sloppy execution to my husband (nice way of saying I fed it to him!).  It tastes kind of yucky, but with a lot of butter and a good toasting it is palatable.  The albino dough muffins will again make an appearance at tonight’s table, an indomitable testament to the power of persistence, lack of shame, and what a perilous economy will push us to.

Glass Etching Leaves Lasting Impression

On this celebratory day forty years after the United States landed the manned spacecraft Apollo 11 on the moon’s surface, I observed my own personal victory by way of a different craft.

It was, however, with depressed spirit that my day started off, begrudgingly aware that I had not been holding up to my declared end of the bargain. But, to submerse myself in a craft that most likely would offend tried-and-true crafters and virtually humiliate me has been a real hurdle to overcome.  In the hierarchy of skilled craft, using a commercial kit and calling it a true craft is similar to popping a Lean Cuisine in the microwave and calling it “homemade,” no?  If so, I’m guilty as charged.  Alas, the snazzy Armour Etch Deluxe Glass Etching Kit brimming with innumerable hokey stencils of jolly snowmen and corny love phrases was at $24.95 something I could afford to write about.

I am not nor have ever been someone who by nature derives pleasure from crafting.  Before this, it was very unlikely that I would have been spotted on the hunt for the next project to begin, thrilled that I had come across a new material or craft resource to investigate.  I am most comfortable in my status as the curious observer who gets joy from mulling over someone elses’s finished work.

A first pass through of the directions, written imperceptibly small and with abundant references to non-descriptive visuals, was enough to warrant a toss in the garbage.  I huffed and fumed at those sly marketers who back when the most recent version of this kit was developed (probably in the 90s as the garish, dated box cover attests) advertised this as “3 simple steps”! BAIT AND SWITCH, BAIT AND SWITCH, I proclaim! (Stick with me because I was and often am bombarded with thoughts of ineptitude when it comes to building things and following directions, which leads to spasms of paranoia and a fair share of grumbling ;-).

IMG_0559 The Armour Etch brochure showcasing a smattering of fancy flower stencils.

Recounting my sentiments and logic, all the above hemming and hawing is admittedly nonsensical, even asnine!  With relative ease, I did create an impeccable rendition of a lighthouse nestled on a rocky ocean shore.  The quaint 4x 4 in. glass image happily reminds me of the famous Twin Lights off Gloucester’s Good Harbor Beach, where my parents live and I enjoy lazy weekend visits.  In sum, the emotion, the satisfaction, the power, and the fear that enveloped me as I impatiently clawed at the last blue bits of stencil hiding the etch from view can be described as one of deep fulfillment.  Below, a scene similar to Gloucester’s Twin Lights:

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A tranquil scene eteched in glass.  Well worth the internal tumult!

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I suppose we all have our judgments, which really are tools we use to hold ourselves back.  From the outset, I judged my ability to create with confidence, fearful that I would be unable to handle frustration and failure should things not go as they should.  Instead, I chalked up any possible incompetence to the hackneyed concept of the at-home crafting kit, which I reasoned would qualify me a fool if I took it seriously and actually tried to do well.  Of course, with this clever equation, I would never let myself down.

Completing this craft exercise banished the Monday blues, etching a surprising last impression.  I, in fact, rather like and appreciate — ah em, uh — kitschy seascapes.  Whoever thought I could be so clueless to not know that about myself.

Etsy Etiquette

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Above, a snapshot into every Etsy activity and interest.

Yesterday I joined Etsy, an online community comprising of 100,000 “storefronts” where one can buy and sell all things handmade.  The site is bustling with informative discussion, creative energy, inspiring comraderie, and of course, a large selection of handcrafted items for sale (that’s interesting that the site uses “handmade” rather than “handcrafted.” Is this another case avoiding the use of the troublesome word “craft”?).  My initial intention was to plug the Short Interview section of my site, hoping to get the word out and see if there was any interest.  Under Etsy’s Forum tab I found an area where people can post Promotions, which I thought may be the best place to make the announcement. And so I did.  According to Google Analytics, though, one lone visitor clicked on the link, spending less time than a blink of an eye to read the form.  A 100% bounce rate (a term referring to the efficacy or lack thereof of a webpage’s ability to communicate) is the type of quantitative data you do not want anyone to know about.  Admittedly, I did sense a rather short-lived tingle of excitement that a human — even if only one — actually landed on something of my creation!

Below, the gateway into the Etsy community.

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This morning, perhaps in an act of desperate curiosity, I revisited Etsy’s forums, this time sleuthing out another virtual venue to share my agenda.  The Business Topics forum looked ripe for a throw-up (a term in graffiti art in which aesthetics are often sacrificed for speed, producing a large number of tags in order to compete with rival artists) from thecluelesscrafter.  My renegade spirit incited some serious testy Etsy ire.  Withink minutes, I had ruffled the feathers of a couple of early morning message board participants.  Quickly I learned that there are rules to participating in this community, which I had sweepingly disobeyed when I did not do my due diligence to become versed on Etsy etiquette.  It was right to admonish my behavior, which in hindsight now appears 100% non professional and worth the tongue lashing.  Before retreating into my own shame, however, I did my best to mend the fences, aiming to rehabilitate my wounded ego and possibly tarnished image.  I will not make this mistake again.

Below, the transcript of an ill-conceived plan to communicate effectively with an audience.

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Thankfully I had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, a welcome opportunity to escape the computer, the locus of my very public embarrassment.  No, it was not a head doctor!  Anyways, in the waiting room I came across an article that put much of the day’s trauma into perspective.  The February 2009 issue of New York Family (hope that doesn’t give it away!) profiled a husband-and-wife team who founded Babble.com, a site and magazine dedicated to a new generation of parents.  In the course of the interview, I was able to see what mindset, what actions led them to the success in their professional venture.  What stands out most is that Rufus Criscom and Alisa Volkman are parents.  They know the ups and downs of parenthood, the isolation and frustration that stems from the experience of learning how to parent in today’s world.  However, they did and do not have the answers.  Whether they agree with the logic of what I am about to suggest, I do not know.  What I learned about my personal and professional quest by reading the article, though, is that my journey follows a similar path, fitting the same equation.  If they are immersed in the experience and lessons that come from parenting, I am equally immeresed in the experience and lessons that result from being a non-crafter.  I am aspirational, open to the process of growing!

As is my site and its mission, I too am a work in constant progress.  I am exploring the development of myself, my (hopefully your) understanding of craft, and this site within a context that on frequent occasion does not freely extend mercy.  It is not easy!  As the founders of Babble recognized, and which is something I am struggling to fulfill, is that establishing a voice is of primary import to thecluelesscrafter.com’s success.  keep with me, please…

For Every Failure, a Triumph

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Above, a sweet reminder of the soul-fulfilling joy of the handcrafted

Yesterday, in the midst of baking cupcakes soaked in a simple sugar of Grand Marnier (shameless plug) for the evening’s Badger Book Club, I experienced a renewed sense of self that I had feared died with the art fair fiasco.  In the kitchen where I was the leader of my own domain, calling upon stand mixer and sugar thermometer to work harmoniously in favor of a common goal, I was bowled over by the scent of power.  As the cupcake batter rose, so did I.

While I am not exposing anything new, it is amazing how often we forget what power rests in our own hands, that the manipulation of a whisk can correlate to a repaired sense of self.  I believe that is how, as I cautiously surveyed a boiling pot of sugar, I came to remember this event:

First In-Person Interview of a Crafter:

Leah Parkhurst’s Studio, Rustbelt Fiberwerks
Friday, July 10th
Milwaukee, WI

As I develop and refine the thrust of thecluelesscrafter.com, which is indeed a work in-progress, I have revamped several of my initial ideas.  The first iteration of this site was to be an online journal devoted to my musings upon crafting from a person who has little experience in the matter.  It quickly came to be that I would need to understand craft from crafters and non-crafters’ perspective.  Truth be told, I knew I would need to substantiate my thoughts, sometimes blathers, with experts in the area.  Which brought me to the Interview a Crafter, Artisan, Artist idea, or Phase II of thecluelesscrafter.com.  Ideally, I wanted to play to my passion and strength in relationship building.  Although I flubbed at the fair, I most often find that I listen well to others.  Leah was the first in-person interview before the online Interview form was posted;  I was reminded why I care about what I am doing.

Much like myself, Leah is pursuing a career, one might say a way of life, that hinges upon the betterment of the self and those around her.  She crafts to enrich the everyday, reminding us that we share a history greater than ourselves.   Through the stitching together of found fabrics important to her life or once important to another’s, her aprons ground us in an aesthetic experience that enriches the present.  Leah also runs a business selling her craft, one that she says is becoming increasingly successful as the economy has grown increasingly unstable.  All this seems to suggest that the general population is looking to craft from a different angle.  So am I.

What I most notably derived from the interview is that craft as an art form and as a business is complex, more so as the economy undergoes intense fluctuation.  As it is no longer on trend to laud those that funnel bundles of cash into the pockets of dealers representing the current blue chip artists, crafters appear to be more in tune with our current reality.  When I asked Leah if my assumption that there exists a tension between artists and crafters was founded, her response was intriguing.  She recounted an event before a recent craft fair in which a large discussion was held over the topic of whether the exhibitors desired to be called crafters or artists.  It was apparently a heated debate with many taking opposing sides.  It seems clear that our definition of art and craft in our culture is undergoing serious reassessment.

Just how I tap into this world and garner its respect means that I need to devise a viable business model.  How do I fuse my quest for self actualization by delving into the handmade with my passion for understanding the broader implications of craft today with a revenue generating plan that will allow me to continue on this path?!

The only way I can think to get nearer to the root of the question is to step inside the craft world and make something.  I’ve been intending to try my hand at glass etching or candle making…

Failing at the Fair & Business 101

I am back at my post in NY posting to a site even I don’t want to read.

I wish I could nurture my wounded ego by being a bit more forgiving of my flagrant naivete, yet I cannot stop replaying each disastrous moment in my  head.  Two days have elapsed since the fair, but the embarrassment is just as poignant.  In retrospect, the first assumption I made was that I was the center of the universe, that my site and my lofty visions would matter to the rest of the art world.  I tricked myself into believing that I had the right to walk into a world where I had little experience other than a stint on a TV show making a few batches of ribbon flowers, and authoritatively convince them to care about my desire to define craft today!  I am totally crazy.

I equate what I did to what is referred to in sales as cold calling, only I had the clueless chutzpah to do it in person and suffer the rejection face to face.  I distinctly remember my first pitch to the unsuspecting victim.  Her booth of portraits painted in a 17th-century Northern style, but with a more quaint spin,  was located on a corner parcel on the capitol square.  I spotted her fumbling in the back of her exhibition space, clearly preoccupied with the stress of setting up for the day’s fair.  Like a pit bull in a china shop, I stuffed myself into her tiny booth and wagged my sloppy, over-eager tail all over the place.  After .3 seconds of tripping over every word, I was abruptly shooed out, tail between legs.  She would not even accept the offer of my sleek flyer.

It is rare that I feel terrified at the thought of speaking to people, but after what I immediately perceived as rejection I could no longer form a complete sentence.   Summoning up what little composure remained, I completed all four sides of the square, speaking to two more booth proprietors showing wares in ceramic and glass.  With a lousy performance in tow, I hightailed it out of the bustling crowd to my awaiting rental car.  As I pulled away from the crime scene in which I was both victim and persecutor, a thought crept into my mind.  I could not leave without giving it one more go.  I pulled into a loading zone, illuminated the flashers, and lept from the car in the direction of Anthology, a recently opened shop featuring handmade goods on State Street just off the capitol square.  Not set to open for another two hours, I grappled with the thought of waiting, leaving a note, or returning later.  After 10 minutes of vacillation in front of the dark storefont, I came to the conclusion that the best thing to do would be to leave my flyers at the door.  Unfortunately, there was no dropbox to leave them safely, which rather than thwarting my efforts encouraged me to improvise.  I scribbled a quick note, “For Anthology.  Please pass along.”  It took another 10 minutes of finagling with the gap between the door and the ground to securely wedge the bundle into place.  I’m quite sure I damaged a few in the process.  Sweaty with cheeks noticeably flushed, I caught a glimpse of my image in the store’s window, focusing just enough to realize that a few bystanders had probably been watching the entire time.  I bet they were amused at the sight of a seemingly put together young woman in a floral sundress troubleshooting a problem akin to fitting a square peg in a round hole.  What I was doing, one can guess, would never work.

The Short Interview has yet to be filled out, evidence that I need to get more crafty with my business proposition.  Let me recap what I see as my strengths and deficits as I look back on what transpired:

Strengths

  • Ability to enter into uncomfortable situations;
  • Perserverance in the face of noticeable setbacks;
  • Keeping to deadlines;
  • Willingness to look back at errors and improve;
  • PASSSION not guided solely for financial profit

Deficits

  • Not knowing enough about my customer;
  • Not knowing how to articulate my mission;
  • Not having a short pitch prepared;
  • Not Being sensitive to the situation (exhibitors were stressed setting up, perhaps fearing their own possible failures financially, artistically, etc.)

When I set out to get crafters, artisans and artists to answer questions that dealt largely about themselves, I did not think that I would be embarking on an uphill battle.  Who wouldn’t want the forum to speak candidly about his or her work and its merit in today’s world?!  What I recognize now is that many of us require advocates to help promote us and encourage us to promote ourselves.  It is apparent that in order to convince my audience of the benefits of my mission, I must have convinced myself first.  You cannot sell, unless you can sell it to yourself.  Business 101.

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From my vantage point, a dizzying gauntlet of art patrons and artists made me suddenly aware of how public my humiliation could be.

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A view of the capitol from the square.

Showtime for The Clueless Crafter

I awoke this morning to two cups of burnt hotel coffee and the distinct sense that I had signed myself up for a very public execution. Not a second have I had to mentally rehearse how I will approach people I have never met about a website and topic that I, as of this morning, believe I have very little expertise in.  The pervading state of cluelessness that governs my mood is darkening my spirit, twisting my usual smile into a hyper extended turn southward.  I am in a funk.

I need to gripe a bit, hoping that I can shake off the devil of doubt that menaces my mind. I have been itinerant since June 26th attending three weddings in three weekends in three different states and in two geographical regions of the US, having neither a computer to work on or a private place that I can regroup.  I have caught a cold, reacted to something I ate, and am presently suffering from some ungodly sinus pressure.  During these weeks, I have slept on a futon; a twin bed attached to a suite shared by three other women; a friend’s couch; and, as of this past evening, a soggy mattress in a hotel room with an air conditioner that will only blow icy air — a sad fact for a person that needs to have a fan on in order to sleep, yet despises the cold.  I have lived on other people’s eating, sleeping, partying and relaxation schedules and I am fed up. More significantly, though, I have lost the sense of self that had convinced me of late that I had the power and right to explore the subject of craft, an area that I find intriguing, if only because I do not understand it.

Although tonight is the last wedding I will attend before heading back to NYC, I regret to declare that this good news probably won’t help me do what I need to do one short hour from now.  I am a busted brand holding a pile of flyers that days ago resembled burgundy gems, proverbial golden tickets.  And yet now they appear more like pieces of scrap paper found at the bottom of a waste basket, under steaming coffee grounds and to the left of the chicken bones.

Preparing The Clueless Crafter for a Public Debut

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Flyer advertising the Short Interview (Phase II) portion of thecluelesscrafter.com

Hot off the FedEx Kinko’s printers (above) is the first official document attesting that thecluelesscrafter.com is a real business venture ready to take off.  I must admit it to be deeply satisfying to see and hold this burgundy gem in the flesh.  A couple of weeks ago, I set a firm deadline that this flyer would be finished by Wednesday, July 8th, a mere three days before the Art Fair on the Square.  Not only did the job get done on time, it got done with a certain amount of panache.  Yes, I may be intoxicated by my own success, but it would be incomprehensible to me why this flyer in tandem with a well-rehearsed pitch would not immediately convince crafters, artisans, and artists alike to hop right onto their Mac books to fill out the Short Interview.

The next step is to develop a short pitch that will convert Saturday’s exhibitors into loyal followers of thecluelesscrafter.