Tag Archives: COVID-19

Arts

The Art World After COVID and After the Murder of George Floyd. In Poem and Prose.

You can’t say much about the art world
That can’t also be said about the world.
Both are being hurled into a trajectory
New, untested, unimagined until now.

Like Charlie Brown, you have to face
Adversity with philosophy, insanity
With unity. Like the bard said, you
Gotta be tough. It helps to be in
Fighting shape when the weather
Gets this rough, this windy, this in-
Dependent-bookstore-spindly. Songs
Of canaries dot the landscape in rhyme
With each other as they slide towards the
Rapid decline. Some have resources, some
Have hope, some have enough dope for two
More days if they’re lucky, three if they’re not.

I had a studio in a gallery, Gallerie Soleil, in the
2000’s, teaching myself to paint after a print-
Making major and a stint as an art director
For local TV. This last frisky decade came to
A close on my own public studio & gallery,
Homegrown Press, where the occasional
Blocks were carved, prints were printed,
But mainly I painted paintings, trying to
Keep them all real enough while selling
Enough to keep the doors open, always
Hoping someone would walk through in
Time to pay my rent for me, with no new
Enemies, and as often as not it has worked,
But only online, social media sharing my work,
Connecting with and selling to souls from coast
To coast, Sight unseen, not laying my eyes on them,
Nor theirs on my pieces, except in an email, but my doors
Stayed open, if only for the occasional critique by the home-
Less (Old School was almost always right, and in fact, the piece
Of mine that upset him so, never sold, and it cost me my studio,
That and the virus that took all the restaurants and bars and my
Sweet buddy Carleton), but the main reason I kept that open sign
On the door, to welcome the occasional child/artist that would
Would walk in with a donut and a sibling, parents looking around
The crazy place with its murals and messes and giant rough easels.
The parents would raise a skeptical eyebrow at each other, or they

Would register nothing at all, but sometimes a child’s eye would rove
The gallery and the noise, the brushes and rollers and ink, and I could
See on their face the look that says “I have found my people. I could
Maybe do this.” And I would reply to them with a corresponding
Expression on my face, “If you want to, you should. It’s good.”
Maybe Old School was right about my piece, “Rat King.” And
Maybe he wasn’t. Time will tell. For now, I have carried all
Of my belongings home, one old truck full at a time, all
By myself, during quarantine, easels and tables, inks
And my press, books, magazines, slabs of old marble
And plywood and carved blocks, carving tools, brayers
And brushes, nails, screws, tools, lightbulbs and big ideas.

What didn’t fit in my music room, with the drums, guitars and
Keyboard, was relegated to the basement, where just last week
I had to go through it all again when our basement flooded, saving
Boxes of framed prints and canvas and paper. I had planes flying in
The air, in the clouds, then they were grounded and I had to retrofit
A tiny airport, and try to fling them aloft again. I’ve had help. Oh yes,
I have had help. Unemployment paid the back rent I owed on my now
Defunct studio. My wife has a good job as a medical administrator. We
Will be fine, there are many people in much more dire straits than are
We. And now that restaurants are decimated, and sports television
Echoes only its innocent past, people sit at home and have time
To watch as the world turns and the edges of cities burn, and
Our children empty into the streets to demand racial justice,
Racial equality, an end to the crushing status quo, and they
Can see much more clearly than we ever have, we are
All just people. The system is getting a much needed
Overhaul. The world is crushed and compacted and
The people try to hold on, much like the art world.

And, much like the art world, I imagine that the
Upper echelons will continue to be just a little
More bullet-proof than those creative folks
On the ground, in the trenches, making do.

BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD

2020 marks 10 years that Homegrown Press Studio & Gallery has been located on North Limestone at 6th Street, in Lexington’s NoLi district. 2020 also marks 30 years since I met my wife and organized my gypsy screen-printing endeavor into Homegrown Press. There was to be a celebration September 24th, my late father’s 76th birthday. My band (okay, my son’s band) was to make their debut on the little wooden stage, and I would have new paintings, block prints and T-shirts for the occasion.

Instead, faint murmurings of distant illness gave way to a couple weeks of social distancing which have, in turn, become a new way of life. And death. People stopped buying paintings (not forever). Coronavirus ended my much-needed lunch dates with artists, writers, and misfits, and took our sweet friend Carleton. Then fate took two more friends to whom I owed much more than was owed to me.

The regular stress and anxiety of studio overhead became too much when compounded with grief, loss and uncertainty. I had been putting together a modest 13 x 18 foot music studio in our house, a place for our band to practice, maybe cut demos. It would now have to do double (triple?) duty. I gave notice to my NoLi landlord and brought home everything from Homegrown: press, stand, inking table, easels, drafting table, filing cabinets, canvases, paint, brushes, ink, paper, frames, tools, lamps, carved blocks, uncarved blocks, knives, pencils, pens.

It has taken a few months to find a place for everything, but I have successfully integrated the printmaking and painting equipment into the music studio without disturbing the band’s footprint too awful much. I’ve had to get creative. I am now back to painting, working on a couple of promised commissions, and some surreal little paintings for my nieces and nephew in Oregon, whom I miss. Songs and poems are popping out occasionally, but the space to paint in is limited, and my paintings have become too expensive for most of the people I know. Times change, and it is time to get back to the drawing board. Or the carving table.

For the first time in the 20 years that I have been learning how to paint, I will again be working in reductive method block printing. While more physically and mentally taxing than painting, it will be a more democratic endeavor, and more affordable. Multiple prints of each design will be made, and the number produced in each edition will be limited, since the block is destroyed during the reductive process. I will miss having a public studio space, but the main reason I had an open sign on the door was so kids whose families happened to wander over from the donut shop could see an artist just being an artist. I really could have used that example as a kid.

Like I said, times change. Human beings can be very adaptable when circumstances demand it. And circumstance is knocking. It knows we are home. Coronavirus. Unemployment. Stress. Fear. Loneliness. Then George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. Marching. Signs. Fires. Smoke. And marching out of that smoke and into the light? The many thousands of protesters who, day after day and week after week, are taking back the power, in dogged pursuit of justice, truth, and unity. I acknowledge this is a crisis for individuals who have lost loved ones, jobs, businesses. But what we are seeing is the beginning of a huge recalculation. The timing is horrible. The timing is perfect.

The world is preparing to get a little more creative. I am not really familiar enough with the art world at large to be able to respond to the Last Days of the Art World article by Jerry Saltz in any substantive way, other than to say what it has been like for me. I hope every artist and arts organization that operates from the heart can survive and thrive, from the largest museums to the weirdest little galleries, studios, venues. I have been shaken from my particular tree, and like a squirrel, I only hope to land with a little dignity. Time will tell. And Black Lives Matter.

Arts

The Art World After COVID: An Invited Essay Series

We’ve invited a number of people to write brief reaction pieces to art critic Jerry Saltz’s recent piece in Vulture,“The Last Days of the Art World … and Perhaps the First Days of a New One”. The writers were also asked to comment about the effects the virus and resulting mitigation steps have had on their work. We are publishing these pieces over the next several months. Below are contributors and links to the individual pieces in this essay series, in order of publication. Additional contributors and links will be added as essays are published.

John Brooks – Artist, Gallerist, Poet and Writer

Stuart Horodner – Director of the University of Kentucky Art Museum

Dmitry Strakovsky – Art Intermedia Faculty, Founder of Infinite Industries

Uncategorized

John Brooks: The Art World After COVID

We’ve asked a number of people to write brief reaction pieces to art critic Jerry Saltz’s recent piece in Vulture,“The Last Days of the Art World … and Perhaps the First Days of a New One”. The writers were also asked to comment about the effects the virus and resulting mitigation steps have had on their work. We will be publishing these pieces over the next several months.

On February 28th, Quappi Projects opened an exhibition featuring nineteen artists from around the nation and world. Two days later, I flew to New York to exhibit at SPRING/BREAK during Armory week. I was in the city for eleven days; the New York fairs were well attended, but with each successive day the mood grew more worrisome. I left the city shortly before the quarantine began. After returning to Louisville, I honored a handful of appointments at the gallery until Governor Beshear’s directive to shutter all non-essential businesses. Our opening reception was well attended, but it is disappointing for both the artists involved and the viewing public that the show has been seen by so few people. This, however, seems a small concern when lives are at risk.

The current exhibition was scheduled to close April 10th, but will hang indefinitely for the time being. That sounds contradictory, but with no way to know what is to come, planning is impossible. Our next exhibition has been cancelled. The artist’s concept had a meaningful tie-in to the Derby and with its postponement we can’t simply wait for reopening. Moving forward, the rest of the schedule is up in the air. While I do feel utterly unmoored by the current reality, there is positivity in even the idea of future exhibitions. I am holding on to that hope.

Regarding my own painting practice, I still have studio access. Traveling there requires only a short drive, after which I work in isolation. It seems safe and I have spent a few days each week painting.

Photo by John Brooks of woman viewing Dorthea Lange exhibition at MoMA.

None of us know what the post-COVID landscape will look like – any prediction is just conjecture – but something will unfold. Saltz writes that Chef David Chang expects 90 percent of restaurants to close and “surmises the food world will return to the pre-internet days of the 1990s.” I can’t speak to that industry, but with regard to ours, a return to the “pre-internet” era is simply inconceivable. The internet and social media have connected us in previously unimaginable ways, and there is no disengaging from that. I have developed immensely rewarding relationships with so many artists – mostly young, mostly queer – and we support each other professionally and personally; this has felt even more meaningful throughout this collectively endured isolation.

Saltz is right that this crisis could exacerbate inequalities between winners and losers. “Losing” may now be synonymous with nonexistence. Those of us who have been functioning – and surviving – outside the art world’s uppermost echelons must continue to support each other however we can. As we always have, artists and gallerists will advocate for our position in a culture that often sees us as extraneous, but perhaps a greater appreciation for our contributions will emerge since so many have turned to the arts for solace. After this period of societal crisis and existential introspection, I hope more value and attention will be placed on complex work in lieu of the clever, flippant, and depthless. Undoubtedly, art and artists will adapt, abide. Collectors, too.

Top photo by CDC on Unsplash

Arts

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The COVID-19 pandemic landed hard in Kentucky, causing economic devastation and isolating artists at the moment they need community the most. Many have lost multiple gigs and opportunities they were counting on to pay essential living expenses. Others are newly unemployed, let go by beloved arts organizations or from service industry employment. 

So far $75,000 has been raised from Great Meadows Foundation, Kentucky Foundation for Women, and two private donors to seed the new Artist Relief Trust (ART), which will provide $500 rapid-response microgrants to as many artists as possible, helping offset some of the dire monetary losses artists are facing.

Concern about the pandemic’s impact on artists brought together the coalition organizing this effort. ELEVATOR Artist Resource – a Louisville-based nonprofit whose mission is supporting and advocating for individual artists – is facilitating this timely and vitally important initiative. Coalition partners include: Great Meadows Foundation, Kentucky Foundation for Women, Actors Theatre of Louisville, KMAC Museum, Louisville Ballet, Commonwealth Theatre Center, Louisville Fringe, OPEN Community Arts Center and others, including individual artists and advocates from across the state – uniting artists across Kentucky and creating much-needed financial and community support. 

“Our artistic community needs help right now. ART was created to make sure they get that help and get it quickly,” said ELEVATOR founder and board chair, Alison Huff. “We also wanted to make it easy, with money given directly to artists and no strings attached.” 

Applicants fill out a short online form and submit one link to demonstrate their work. Awards are based on need, though, not a review of artwork, and funds can be used toward any living expenses artists are struggling to cover. Artists in any discipline who reside in the state of Kentucky, or in Clark, Floyd, Harrison, Scott, or Washington Counties in Indiana are encouraged to apply. Awards will be prioritized based on artists’ immediate needs for basic necessities like housing, food, and health care. 

ART is committed to leveraging the $75,000 in seed money to raise even more for artists in need – and is asking YOU to be a partner. Donations large and small can be made through GoFundMe to help make sure our community’s artists get the help they need right now. Anyone interested in more sizable donations or wanting to target certain demographics of artists can contact ELEVATOR for more information.

Culturalyst:

Another way ELEVATOR is helping to create community for artists is through a collaboration with Culturalyst, a New Orleans-based start-up that is building a national network of local artist directories, with Louisville being the first and a beta partner throughout the process. Culturalyst Louisville is an online directory for artists of all disciplines who reside in the Greater Louisville Area. In minutes, artists can create and activate a unique profile of their work including cover and profile photos, Google-indexed artist statement, links to all online properties, and a full gallery of work (songs, images, video). The directory is public and searchable by medium and genre, among other attributes. It also includes a “tipping” tool allowing artists’ fans to send money directly in support of their ongoing work, as well as a social-distancing-appropriate feature where artists can add their live-stream events to a centralized calendar. Artists or arts advocates who are interested in creating a Culturalyst site for other areas of Kentucky or beyond can contact ELEVATOR to facilitate the connection.

How to connect:

Artists can apply for emergency funds from ART and join Culturalyst Louisville at http://ELEVATORarts.org/. Donations to the Artist Relief Trust can also be made through GoFundMe or through ELEVATOR’s website

Get creative with ELEVATOR online using #ARTelevates, and watch out for some surprises on social media. 

About ELEVATOR Artist Resource: 

Developed as an outgrowth of Imagine Greater Louisville 2020, ELEVATOR is a hub for the creators of our community to access resources, professional development, and promotional tools to elevate their economic growth and community engagement. By helping individual artists have a collective voice to advocate for their interests and helping to remove barriers to access, ELEVATOR empowers our creative community to find sustainability in their practice and in their careers – in any discipline.