The Art Club took a trip to Art Chicago 2003 at Navy Pier today, leaving at eight a.m. and arriving back sometime after eight p.m. (whereupon I was promptly dressed as a pink "happy emo" girl and went to a "subculture" dance with nyxdae, livinghole, hypertechie, and captsoontirfel).
Whoops, I almost went into a full-blown tangent.
Normally, I don't participate in any Art Club activities (not sure why, but conflict of time has been an issue in the past), but I signed up for this one right away (as I didn't really want to go to the mega-LARP event, though I would receive a silly amount of EXP for doing so). I woke up at six a.m. this morning, and endured a very cold shower (apparently one of the campus boilers was hit by lightning last night, go figure), and set out towards Kirkland.
It was raining, and I was the first one there (no surprise). Soon, Ray showed up, and we sat around for awhile before we realized that Lyle (my figure drawing teacher) was waiting out front with the van. We hurried out and climbed on in, waiting for the others to appear. Eventually, we left with six students, one art teacher, and one art teacher's daughter (who reminds me more of her father than her mother, though everyone else disagrees).
In jumpy handwriting (for the vans aren't known for their grace), I wrote:
Even if you turn the clock off, time continues on. Reality will not stop for your faded batteries.
And then I fell asleep. But don't worry, I wasn't the only one. Soon every last one of us aside from Lyle had conked out, as it seems that art students can sleep just about anywhere. We stopped twice on the way up (or was that three times?) to Chicago, and everybody used the restroom every time - which flabbergasts me, as I am used to family trips where stoppages are kept to a minimum.
I woke up before we entered Chicago ... the clouds hung low and draped about the buildings both old and new, and rain persisted for the rest of the morning. Art Chicago 2003 cracked me up, for a variety of reasons. It was interesting seeing names that I had only seen in art history textbooks - it brings back the realization that our time is not very old, and our "past" is still very close to us. Stella, Miro, LeWitt, Picasso ... all these and more were present, as well as other less-known artists.
"He's becoming better known, much better known." I love listening to the conversations of others, particularly in an event where the audience is so varied. There were people of all kinds there; "artistic" ladies in lime-green monochrome walked in the same rows with guys wearing black knee-high socks and khaki shorts. Small tortoise-shell glasses met old "friends," culture clones of culture had big hair and cool attitudes.
I picked up a lot of cards, kind of as a keepsake of sorts. I joked that I should hold an exhibition where I framed all these cards and priced them highly, knowing that context and content often matters more than the work itself. There were a lot of different styles, languages, materials, and ideas there - some more original than others, some with more skill, some sought emotion and others stripped it away. There was a lady with watercolors of children that looked as though they could be used for a GAP ad, yet under the same roof there was an artist who had drawings of children with curiously disengaged (in different directions) wide-placed eyes and small grins.
You wonder who will be remembered.
Mundane little details: cigar smoke is unpalatable. Wish that guy hadn't sat near us. Haagen-Daz has a store on Navy Pier. There was a little cart in the Art Show that was selling Haagen-Daz ice cream bars for 3.50 a piece, and we bought some anyway ("where are they getting that ice cream from??" now we know).