Archive for the ‘Judgmental’ Category

All Twisted Up

For a splash of irony, note the watermark. And, no need to focus eyes, the buttons are of yet unattached.

Fessing up to being less than talented at something has actually never been my strength — nor pleasure.

I should be the best at all things mind and hand take to.

Bof, you exclaim!  This chic is bogus — Look at the name of her blog!

Months ago, I was proud to say that I was clueless at craft.  But as time has gone, I’ve become increasingly insecure about not being the best.  Or even broaching the best.

From the outset, my inner, most fierce competitor was merrily subdued.  But as craft has creeped its way from the conceptual to the real, I grow more intimidated and resentful. I can no longer hide behind the defense that craft was something that someone else did.

Reluctantly, with head hung and spirit exhausted, I present the scarflette. Unholy crap, did I really work so long to get it all twisted up?!

These embarrassing knit fits can make a tightly wound woman come fastly undone.

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Posted in Flustered, Judgmental, Melancholic | 22 Comments »

When the Art Market Is a Big Bully, You Got to Get Arthletic

A stroll through a high caliber, “blue chip” art fair as seen from this clueless collector.  I know my art, but sure can’t play the collector part.

The Basel Bully - the collectors, the blue chip galleries, the aspirational affluent - take on the art uninitiated.

The Basel Bully - the collectors, the blue chip galleries, the aspirational-affluent - takes on the art market uninitiated.

Art Basel Miami was a bully to my senses. The fair, the 15 satellite exhibitions, the whole production from pre- to after-party was a twitching muscle demanding the submission of all assets  - spiritual to financial – to its needy desire.  It wanted to perform for me; I to perform for it.

You wouldn't happen to be VIP? Oh, you're notttt?! As I've been hearing, John, (taking a quarter turn to his left) the blogs have been saying that you have had the most active backroom of all at the fair. What's the champagne for? Everything is sold. (cork pops, both smile).

Overheard: "You wouldn't happen to be VIP? OH, you're not?! As I've been hearing, John, (taking a quarter turn to his left away from Non-VIP Person) the blogs have been saying that you have had the most active backroom at the fair. . . What's the champagne for?" "Everything sold, of course." (cork pops, both smile).

From my 5′4″ shortstuff standpoint, the fair’s muscularity was palpable. For the moneyed and the art afficonado who frequent this premier event, politesse was remarkably passee.  A push here a body check there?  Yeah rah!  A  point on the score board. . . .

The Basel Labrynth where clans of collectors lurk, waiting to strike a move.

The Basel Labyrinth where clans of collectors lurk, waiting to strike a move. (photo credit Artnet.com)

I’m a feisty woman who works assiduously to achieve the utopia of perfected self esteem (HEY, we all got dreams), yet the labyrinthine passageways that cut in and out of the exhibition booths threw me right off that path.  I could not contend with the pulsing, ornery crowds.   At every corner, I was knocked into, clearly  sized up by teems of fellow fair goers, gallerinas, collectors, and would-be elite.  It’s all so performative, theatrical, which seemed unusual until I realized I had gone from the sidelines (art historian) to a main participant in the art market game.

The Basel Blood Clot at fair's entrance. In just moments, toes will be stepped on, glares will be shared, and an aggressive nudge will strike the unsuspecting

The Basel Blood Clot at fair's entrance. In just moments, toes will be stepped on, glares will be shared, and an aggressive nudge will strike the unsuspecting

In one weekend, I leapt from art appreciator to art speculator.  And so I became arthletic.  I confronted the Basel Bully head on.  I pushed back, got sassy with the gallery assistant who wouldn’t share a work’s price with me, and best of all, I remained positive, knowing that the market can only destroy the artist’s intention, the aura of the work, if I let it.

How would you carry yourself in the art market environment I described?  Would you be disenchanted by the money, the affluence, the art-as-object for purchase mentality?

**As a side note – and I’m ashamed to admit this, though not really –  I dropkicked some art.  That’s right, there was a work installed on the floor and when I walked across the exhibition space, I heard the sickening crunch of art under foot.  Crunchy, cracky, shattery, art explosion!  My quick reply to the jaws on the floor, “Sorrrry.  But it’s probably not safe for the art to be there.”  Classy, uber classee.

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Posted in Analytical, Aspirational, Candid, Disillusioned, Judgmental, Snarky | 13 Comments »

Clueless Goes to Miami

art basel

This turkey is off to baste in the Miami sunshine.  That’s right, ladies and lads, tomorrow I’ll be  up with the roosters and on my way to Art Basel Miami Beach, an international contemporary art fair with more than 250 premier galleries in attendance.

My descent on Miami symbolizes the culmination of my graduate studies, a chance to see the art market in action.  But I come from two camps:  one that views art outside the realm of commerce – the art historian side; the other that knows that art and artists need the market to survive. Before the credit crash, Basel (marketers) and others glorified art as commodity, promoting fairs as playgrounds for the wealthiest – often with precarious egos; some without apprehension of art and its history –  to mental masturbate en masse (“hobnob,” I believe is the appropriate term).  Art, so it seemed, was not the primary reason to be there.  Hmmm.

elle decor miami

art basel cartier

Has economic  hardship changed the face of the art world?  The meaning of art?  Respect, appreciation and knowledge of art and artists?  These are the thoughts that frequently mill through my mind, and will be when I meander through the booths at Miami.

art booth

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to pack, preen, slap on a fake tan, grow some breasts, and craft a few art-conversation topics to hobnob with those who may be more clueless than I.  Wink and a nod.  Oh yeah.

What say you about art and the market?  Blurt out the first word that comes to mind.

See New York Magazine’s Holiday in the Sun, a good read for the uninitiated.

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Posted in Ambivalent, Analytical, Intellectual, Judgmental, Social | 18 Comments »

Writing What-Not-To: Crafting Your Blog’s Personality

This weekend I abandoned our boiling city to plunk my butt on a weather beaten Adirondack chair in upstate New York’s great North Country.  Lake Placid, a 6-hour Amtrak ride from Penn Station, is a magical place just two hours south of Montreal, and a must-see for all of us living in the East.  It’s so magical, in fact, that cell phones do not work in many areas and people are so busy canoeing and hiking that they seem to forget about the life they could be living online. Shocking.

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I spent 4 entire days without internet, reading, thinking, drinking, and dining my way through the blissful relaxation that is nature (or so a city slicker thinks). The extra time for contemplation, however, brought about a strikingly sour thought I am compelled to share with you.  The thought:  I blog like a sophist, a narcissist, a windbag. Well, this thought wasn’t conceived purely on its own, helped greatly by a voicemail left by a loving, yet very harsh critic of my work. Whyyyy did the Verizon gods pass this message down to me, oh why?

It turns out my critic never read a word; however, I was inspired to take these sour thoughts and make some lemonade.  When you have a minute — or days — to contemplate, ask yourself if you fall into any or all of these personality traits.

Clueless Crafter personalities to Avoid

The Sophist:  A blogger who makes confusing or illogical arguments, sometimes to deceive.

When posting or commenting avoid using language that asserts yourself as an expert if you genuinely are not.  It is key that we work together to spread truthful information in lieu of our personal need to be #1.  Be honest about your knowledge and your experience.

This does not mean that we cannot speak authoritatively about being clueless!

The Narcissist:  A vain, conceited, self-oriented blogger.

Have you been placing yourself in your readers’ position?  Know what their needs and desires are?  Readers can tell when you think only of yourself and when all you care about is your reflection.  Step outside that by using language that invites their participation.  Honor the value of their knowledge, assuming that they know more than you.

The Windbag: A talktative, arrogant blogger who conveys nothing of substance or interest.

Don’t blow your readers away with verbal diarrhea.  They’ll just think your windbag-ness is a huge cover up for what is sure to be a shallow blog. Use the simplest word that comes to mind, always.  Don’t be an ignoramus.

I invite you to think hard about what personality you fall under.  While these categories share common principles, the subtleties make all the difference. How exactly do you miss your target reader? Give your personality a good edit, I guarantee you will craft a reader into an eager follower.

P.S. And, because I’m a very visual person, I could not resist putting these images in.

P.S.S And, oh oh oh, go ahead and give my old posts a look.  See what traps I walk right into. Ouch.

For more tips on writing your blog visit these reputable sites

  • Chris Brogan, new media marketing guru shares a how-to for effective blog post structure
  • Psychotactics, Sean D’Souza knows the psychology of good marketing
  • Problogger, an indispensible all-things-blog guide by Darren Rowse

Selected articles

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Posted in Judgmental, Reflective, Snarky, Witty | 10 Comments »

Voyeurism and the Artist’s Open Studio

The rebranded totally revamped incarnation of the Museum of Art and Design (formerly, the American Craft Museum) openend last Septemeber 2008 at Columbus Circle, a bustling intersection on Manhattan’s Upper West Side and Central Park South.  As part of the institution’s education and outreach program, it hosts Artist Open Studios every day of the week on the 6th floor.  Last Sunday, I stopped in to see what Bridget Parris, a skilled Industrial Designer with home hardgood designs gracing Anthropologie’s catalogs, the european-inspired women’s wear and decor specialist, was creating.  On the bus ride to the museum, I was envisioning a post about the rewards of visiting an open studio, of learning first-hand from the artist, crafter or designer by joining in on a student-teacher dialogue.  I further hoped to pick up a skill or technique for a future craft.  What came from the visit, however, was entirely unexpected.

Watching someone at work, in the midst of a creative moment, feels invasive and uncomfortably personal.

In an open studio context, you quickly get the impression that there are unspoken rules of engagement.  Do not stare;  scan the studio with enthusiasm; never fix eyes on something that may appear unfinished, private; look interested; refrain from too many questions when s/he is creating; make art-intelligent statements; mind your step — these items are one of a kind!;  maintain appropriate physical and metaphorical distance between you, the subordinate, and the artist-teacher.  In the presence of art and craft making, behavior is heavily coded, turning what should be a pleasant, informative experience into quite possibly one of the most awkward encounters a person could have.

Ever walked in on someone naked, sharing equally in their horror as you turn to panic?  That’s exactly how I experience an artist’s open studio — can’t get out of there fast enough, yet am compelled to stay and mingle in the artist’s private practice.

Gustave Caillebotte (1848-1894), a wealthy French realist-impressionist artist painted crafts and tradesmen at work.  Caillebotte’s pictorial treatment of the laboring class came to mind at Parris’s open studio, where I sensed I was more voyeur than visitor.

Caillebotte_floor_scrapers_1875 Above, The Floor Scrapers by Gustave Cailebotte, 1875 (oil on canvas) 57 1/2 in. x 40 in.

The 1875 painting Les raboteurs de parquet or The Floor Scrapers, a study Caillebotte did of the working class laborers hired to repair his studio, is a poignant rendering of the complex relationship between the upper and working classes and between the fine artist and the skilled artist/artisan. Caillebotte depicts the sweat and raw muscularity of men in the throes of backbreaking labor.  The physical possession of his subjects goes beyond Caillebotte’s preference to paint the men nearly naked, stripped of their privacy, but to the formal qualities of the work itself.  The angle that the viewer enters the scene is from above, pinning the men firmly in the control of the artist and by proxy our gaze.  The power of the artist is asserted further by the imposed sense of claustrophobia, signifying a tenor of ownership. If you are inclined, Norma Broude’s book Gustave Caillebotte and the Fashioning of Identity in Paris and Terry E. Smith’s In Visible Touch:  Modernism and Masculinity both offer additional in-depth analyses into the subject.

Caillebotte channeled the inherent discomfort, perhaps anxiety, that arises from a relationship in which power is unevenly distributed.  Unlike Caillebotte I was not the dominating force in the open studio dynamic, which would have ideally constructed the perfect opportunity to absorb all the lessons that the expert desired to impart.  However,  the sense that I had violated a sacred space, whether perceived or true, prevented the free-flowing exchange of information.

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Above, The House Painters by Gustave Caillebotte, 1876 (oil on canvas) approx. 35 in. x 45 in.

What has been your experience in the studio?  I am quite curious!

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Posted in Intellectual, Judgmental, Puzzled, Reflective, Spiritual | 2 Comments »

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.

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Posted in Ambivalent, Analytical, Candid, Flustered, Judgmental, Melancholic, Reflective, Witty | 3 Comments »

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.

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Posted in Ambivalent, Candid, Disillusioned, Judgmental, Melancholic, Social | No Comments »

Block Printing Bust

Back when the show I was interning on featured a segment on block printing table linens for a spring get together, I was taken with the apparent simplicity of the craft.  As they had reiterated on air, truly anyone could do this inspired project at home!  After all, I had (unlike the rest of the viewers) the great fortune of,  in the span of a single afternoon, seeing the cloth and matching napkins come to life in the studio’s craft room.  From what I was able to gather from the lead crafter’s super-cool confidence as she quietly plugged away at the linen’s repeating floral pattern was that the block printing technique must be inherently straightforward.  Never did she look flustered or irritated; rather, she was the very picture of composure and certainty.  Suddenly, I really wanted to be like her.  I could see within my very near reach, the oneness of spirit and hand that she truly appeared to have achieved.  If succeeding at block printing would offer me the same reward, nothing was going to stop me from doing it.

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Everything about my “craft room” screams of inexperience.

What I had not anticipated was the disparity between what I think the crafting process will involve and what it actually does involve.  Where it took the show’s crafter an afternoon, it took me a whole month from conception to completion.  Let me delineate the steps involved for this first-timer:

Block-Printed Cocktail Napkins How-To-Not According to a Novice

  1. Committ to the craft in mind and spirit.  Initially, this is exhilarating;
  2. Summon up the courage to not only publicly proclaim it will be done, but actually see the project through.  It’s easier to think it’s a great idea but never do it, right?;
  3. Locate a block on which to carve the design.  I used a Mastercarve eraser, which I located in the craft room’s trash;
  4. Decide what image to imprint onto the linen  (Wait, this should be step 3.  The block needs to have enough surface area to fit the design;
  5. Purchase or borrow linoleum cutting tools;
  6. Trace design with pencil; burnish the image onto the block;
  7. Select the color palette for the linens by purchasing or finding household linens to repurpose;
  8. Select fabric paint colors based upon the color scheme of the above selected;
  9. Set aside hours to carve design into block.  DO NOT pick a Scottish thistle (see image below) — the intricacy of the design will equate to many hours of carving frustration.  Someone should have a said as much!;
  10. Ensure that linens are washed and ironed.  If you live in the city as I do, take them to the cleaners and wait for them to be cleaned and pressed;
  11. Commence printing.  If using multiple colors for design, which I now regret, be sure to wash block thoroughly.  This takes time, but lack of patience will equate to a mixed color print.  What was supposed to be a white thistle quickly became pink. . .;
thistle-1
Detail shot of a thistle

I bet you’re probably glad I’m not writing up the how-to’s of block printing after this! In my words, it seems unnecessarily complex.  As I see the process enumerated, however, I am only reminded of the lengthy process and of the obstacles I encountered along the way.  It is not my intention to discourage this activity, but it is my goal to illuminate the many layers of production involved in a single craft.  The directions that guided me, in retrospect, are now glaringly incomplete and totally unsympathetic to the needs of a novice crafter.  YET, anyone is supposed to be able to do this!  Let me just show you what served as my guide:

Block-Printed Table Linens How-To According to Craft Experts

  1. Print leaf and flower template. Trace over designs with a pencil. Carefully place paper, pencil-marked side down, on a Mastercarve artist-carving block.
  2. Rub the wide edge of a bone folder over paper to transfer the pencil-marked designs to carving blocks.
  3. Use a linoleum cutter with the V-shape attachment to carve the outline of the designs. Switch to a U-shape attachment to carve out larger areas around the designs.
  4. Apply a thin layer of transparent water-based fabric paint to the leaf block with a wide brush. Print on fabric with block, re-inking as needed.
  5. Print dogwood flower as you did the leaves.
  6. Let the fabric dry for about 15 minutes, and then set paint with an iron according to paint manufacturer’s instructions.

I am a smart woman.  I know that the primary goal is to market these craft projects as easy, fun, useful, engaging, and rewarding.  Unfortunately, when it comes to novices like you and me, it just may not be that straightforward.  Indeed, my esteem was not elevated by the many complications I encountered, especially when there was not the slightest mention of what may be a “wrong-to” and how that’s okay and how I should NOT feel bad and how I can correct the mistake.  I just felt alone, nothing like that adept crafter I saw in the craft room.  And, oh yeah, I guess I should mention that her job just may have been a little easier because a) Someone  had already collected the fabric paints, linens and tools for her; b) She had done this many times before with unlimited resources to make up for any errors she made; and c) This is the clincher:  she had all the support in the world, working for a successful company that specializes in all things craft.  Now, do you have that comfort?

Yes, I absolutely admire what this respectable company has done for aesthetics in America, basically creating a history of all things decorative for our children and grandchildren.  Impressive!!!  What I don’t admire is how in pursuit of this lofty ambition, the human element is neglected.  I, a self-proclaimed novice crafter, am looking to build myself up through craft.

When I finally finished the prints, I had destroyed 6 newly purchased linen napkins, permanently discolored my block,and  selected the wrong type of fabric paint.  In my opinion, the results were sub-par at best.  What elevated my lackluster performance, was the fact that I shared the story with you.

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The final product.  Admirable, yet rudimentary and a bit schlocky.

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Mini Magazine Holder, Big Problems

In March, nearly three months after I had begun my internship for the much-lauded daytime show hosted by the guru of all  things domestic, I decided that it was time to face into my fears and begin to make things with my own hands.  I was working in the  show’s Art Department as a stylist and crafter (although, I mostly kept to the style side, by my own design), so it was time to gird the loins and get crafting.  I would baby step into it I concluded, only selecting projects that had few processes and required even fewer materials.  The simplest craft I could find was to construct a mini magazine holder, using mat board and a utility knife.  I had several digest-sized cooking mags hanging around, so this exercise had a real utilitarian value to it.  I could wrap my mind around that.

Let me first begin by saying that I naively believed that this project would be a breeze.  I knew what mat board was (what a plus; I hardly know what any materials and tools associated with crafting are) and I had a utility knife from hubby’s tool set.  Phew!  After I picked up a rather costly scrap of mat board from the framing center of a craft store in Long Island, I found that I had a big issue on my  hand.  The online template, a rather brilliant design by the Art Dept.’s director, intended to make the construction of the holder a no-brainer, was impossible to format for printing!  The directions said to “print at 200 percent” and tape the multiple pieces of letter paper together.  What the directions didn’t say is that you need to be a genius to figure out how to get the template to blow up seamlessly, that all the pieces match each other without losing any information.  Initially, I immediately dove to the conclusion that I was not cut out for this crafting stuff, and that some stay-at-home mom (agreed, loaded topic) in Frumpton Township, PA was at this moment effortlessly printing this out. Suddenly, all I could hear was that woman’s fancy, new Canon buzzing with activity, the look of satisfaction glued to her face, while my printer groaned, then flat lined.  Totally deflated.

I unwillingly admitted this defeat to my computer engineer husband in hopes that he’d pick up where I left off — at the beginning.  Thankfully enough, the next evening I heard him hard at work on the mysterious case of the non-printable, “printable” template.  Four hours, 16 wasted sheets of paper, and an empty ink cartridge later, I finally had a template to work with!  So you see, it wasn’t as easy as the directions had claimed!  I was not inept!!  This small victory, however, did not overshadow the looming reality that crafting seems to be a lot about trial and error, a very significant burden to those of us who are time and cash strapped.

Why in June, several months after my inital foray into the craft world, am I rehashing this event?  I think it was the moment when I, a not-too-crafty person, first tapped into the complexity and depth of the subject of craft and craft making.  Honestly, I just couldn’t fathom how this well-regarded company with dozens of talented craft experts in its employ would, with such extreme confidence, advertise at-home crafting as simple, cost-effective, and useful in our everyday lives!  Okay okayyyy, perhaps it behooves them to portray crafting as accessible to boost revenue of the company’s extensive product line of craft supplies at two of America’s big box retailers.  But still, I challenge that notion.

Surely, I must not be the only one who secretly longs to become a convert to craft, but doubts its real-world merit and her own capabilities? Sleuthing the net, I could find no support group for the clueless crafters, only clubs dedicated to the already devout.

Here’s my “club” to the those of us who want to learn how to craft with conviction, and how to put it to work within the context of our personal journeys.

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Hours in, formatting becomes a nightmare

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A rather smart-looking mag holder even with its mismatched edges.  I like the burgundy mat board, which I opted for instead of the white the basic white that was shown.  The white piping motif was a great accident; I never thought  that bending mat board would expose its white interior.

Magazine Holder How-To

  1. Download the template from our website and print at 200 percent. Print on multiple pieces of letter paper and tape together, if necessary.
  2. Temporarily secure template to mat board, using double-sided tape.
  3. Using a mat knife, cut through the solid lines of the template.
  4. Score on dotted lines with the mat knife by gently and carefully cutting halfway through board. (Tip: You may want to practice scoring on a piece of scrap mat board first.)
  5. Fold board at score lines, and form into the box shape. Glue the long, thin tab to the inside of the box with craft glue, squaring the box. Hold in place with a binder clip until dry.
  6. Fold all but the largest flap in to form the bottom. Spread craft glue on the bottom of the folded flaps, and fold the largest flap in to meet them, squaring the box as you do so. Place magazines or other weight inside the holder to keep in place until dry.
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Renegade Craft Fair, Brooklyn

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This past Saturday afternoon was a gloriously sunny day for a schlep to Brooklyn’s McCarren Park for a day of craft seeing in honor of the 2009 East Coast leg of the Chicago-based Renegade Craft Fair.  Thankfully my husband came along, helping make the 50-minute subway sojourn from Manhattan’s Upper West Side considerably less of a yawner.  Besides, we got a chance to read the Travel and Real Estate sections of the New York Times together.  Ahh, domestic bliss!

With our noses buried in the paper, neither of us realized that the L train to Williamsburg’s Bedford Avenue was taking us much further away from the utopic suburbia of the West 80s than we had imagined.  I was wearing. . .gasp. . .a blue striped Ralph Lauren polo.  With Prada sunglasses.  In Williamsburg! While the artfully disheveled hipsters may have not been judging me or us, the seemingly only married couple, I’ll go right ahead and stereotype.  We looked like priiiiicks!!  The gulf between us and them was plain old enormous, making me secretly wish that I had not gotten us so far out of our league. . .and that we could dive back into the subway and go 10,000 leagues under the sea.

Amidst the commotion of urban youth criss-crossing Bedford from one low key brunch joint to the corner bodega for a fresh pack of cigs, my husband and I noticed a large number heading North in the direction of the Renegade Craft Fair.  We joined in.  For the four or so blocks that we walked in step with the indie crowd, I spent the time rehashing my visions of the craft fairs of my youth.  These were not the hokey, might I say, hicky crocheting festivals to domestic idleness that I remember.  Rather, this shindig meant serious business, and that capitalism was well at work here.  These crafters (I find it interesting that the website for the Fair refers to the participants as “artists” or “artisans,” not crafters) were well trained in the visual and applied arts, lending generous doses of the latest trends in graphic design to their finished products.

“Pictorial Oddities”

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It didn’t take long for me to spot the prevailing trend, but whether I could explain it was a different story.  Why all the fuss over owls, birds, octopus, and dogs? It seemed like every booth from the felt handbag to the silkscreen tee had a slightly different storyline for these creatures, yet they came similarly packaged:  cutesy, simplified and often humorous — although, some verged on the morbid — versions of land and sea life, rendered in the boldness of primary color.  Indeed, as one booth declared on its signage, these were “pictorial oddities.”

Still at a loss for explanation, I googled the words, “crafting owl octopus” and was surprised to come upon an article from December 2008 titled, “Octopus Replaces Owl as Twee Mascot” (Time Out New York, December 16, 2008).  Ok, so I’ve picked up on something, despite being absolutely clueless to this “twee” word and its attendant world.  With further investigation, twee has a definition with deep cultural (-ly loaded) roots, originally tied to indie pop music of the late 80s in the UK.  Twee lyrics were fey and innocent, sung to the jangling of guitars and with a grand deference to sixties pop.  In its simplicity, though, twee symbolizes a passive revolt from the here-and-now, a soft, cuddly reversion into the aesthetics of childhood that today is all the rage.  When this pair of upwardly mobile yuppies stepped off the L Train, we had unwittingly entered an aesthetic revolution.  Suddenly, my misgivings about embarking upon a life of craft seemed unfounded.  Craft is again a movement taking on steam, confronting culture’s misconceptions about its merit by drawing us into its gingerbread fantasy and then stuffing us in the oven to bake.  That’s when it’s at its best:  serving up a powerful commentary on you and itself.

IMG_0312 Octopus

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Owl

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Morbidly cute?  Interesting commentary on taxidermy.

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Twee lifestyle

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Just a sampling of the different takes on the age-old sampler

As the purpose of my online musings on all things craft does not remotely concern itself with “reporting back” on great shops, trends or restaurants I visit, I would not include the links below.  But, as I have embarrassingly mentioned before, I have a shred of confidence that anyone would care how I would use craft to build myself into a whole woman.  Maybe this will never see a human’s eyes?  So, these links are for ME.  Hey, that felt quite good to say, even if only in private.

I recently got married.  I have time to cook wonderful meals.  I am a woman.  I think an apron is secretly awesome, but fear what it means for and about me at this stage in my life.  I am a daughter of a feminist.  I like a few these aprons, especially the crafter’s premise:

I have a deep knowledge of art history.  I have a graduate degree in all things pertaining to fine art and the art market.  Frames are fraught with tension because they are meant to elevate art without being noticed.  There’s a no-competition rule they are supposed to follow in the contemporary fine art world, which I think is a fascinating topic.  I empathize with the frame’s role.  The crafter (God, does he want to be called a crafter?  Who really does?  After all, he did attend the Craft Fair, so why not?) who repurposed these new frames into their lacquered look made them solely to showcase his work.  I asked for just the frames.

For more on the derivation of twee, click here.

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