Dan Wilson on sun 27 oct 96
I've just returned from an interesting evening of the arts at the Mable
Johnstone Gallery here in town and thought you'd like to know about it as
it seemed very fresh and new to me. Now this community is not given to
highly intellectualized art forms and if you ask most of our citizens
they'll tell you so. After lastnight, I don't think things are going to
change much, but at least we understand Thomas Purdy a little better.
I am involved in the Community Arts program here? I love the arts and have
always tried my best to promote them. I've dedicated myself toward
education and promotion of the arts at the community level. I teach
painting, pottery and palentology to people in all walks of life and all
ages except the extremely young. They have a difficult time understanding
the concepts and want to eat the supplies before we can get anything done.
"Wall to Wall" opened without alot of hoopla. The announcement of the
artists intention to do a presentation of contemporary art began showing up
at the grocery stores and on our mailboxes about a month before the openng.
They were simple and informative. Announcing: "Wall to Wall" real
contemporary art. by Thomas Purdy. Mable Johnstone's Gallery. 3756 Old
Grange Rd. 7-9 pm. August 26. Refreshments will be served. Hope to see you
there. This show took us by surprise. Although the artist, Thomas Purdy,
was not unknown to us since he's been living here for quite awhile; he's a
quiet man with no particular social interests and no personal connections
with any one of us. We had no idea he was an artist. In fact, my friend
Louise said he was a beautician over in the next town. When it comes to
Thomas Purdy; well, we've just kept our eye on him if you know what I mean.
After spending the morning at Louis's getting my hair done. I decided that
I should do a little art of my own before going on over there. Something to
put me in the mood. I know when it comes to real contemporary art you have
to be in just the right mood. You have to cultivate the proper attitude,
and a manner of thinking. Its kind of scary really. You never know whats
going to happen. So right after dinner I decided to paint a rope red. When
I paint I usualy paint things. You understand? I got the idea from those
painted rocks. After I learned how to do those I realized my calling. I
could paint just about anything. So I painted this rope red. All 68 feet of
it. Of course I spent some time preparing. Had to tie one end of the thing
up high in a poplar tree then stretch it on down to the ground and tie it
off on a couple of railroad spikes. That way I didn't have to worry about a
stretcher. They're an unnecessary encumberence - from my perspective
anyway. Before I started I put a CD of Zen meditation music on, just to
quiet things down. From that point on it was a matter of process really.
Painting that rope and humming along. It took the better part of an hour to
finish so I spent a little time watching the paint dry and speculating on
Thomas Prudys show. But thats another story isn't it?
When I arrived, the parking lot was overflowing into the field next to
the Grange, so thats where I parked too. I just put my Pinto by the Volvo
and tied a red ribbon onto the radio antenna so I could find it later. I
noticed as I approached the gallery that many people were standing in
separate lines that led to large wooden ladders set up at the windows of
the gallery. There were five I believe. These are the kind of ladders that
are wide at the bottom and tappered toward the top? The ones I think fruit
pickers use during harvest season? Each one was painted flat black and
contrasted nicely with the white clapboard siding and green roof of the
gallery. On each ladder someone was hanging onto the rails and leaning over
the edge to peer into the windows. I was surprised that so many people were
willing to take a look. When I got my chance, I climbed, ready for just
about anything. Before I started though, I asked Freddie Jones and his
friend to steady it so I wouldn't fall. When I reached the window, the only
thing I could see on the walls was what appeared to be a typewritten
letters neatly placed at eye level and centered. I couldn't see more than
three walls though, so I couldn't tell if they went all the way around or
not. At first I thought that these must be the artists statements of
explanation in case we didn't understand the point of the show. Then I
realized that it was a foolish thought to think this because we couldn't
read them from the windows anyway. To tell you the truth, I was stuck in
neutral. I began to think, isn't this typical? Contemporary art has gotten
so you just can't understand it don't you think? "Whats the point?" I
thought as my eyes wandered across the walls . I was on the verge of
loosing my mood of aesthetic appreciation when I noticed the toast. It kind
of came to my attention as I began to turn away from the window. There,
covering the floor, was toast. I mean real toast! At least thats what it
looked like. Real toast. Must have been hundreds of pieces; each one a
little different than the other. All neatly arranged, side by side. Wall to
wall! "Now thats real art!" I laughed as I came down the ladder. "Makes me
hungry for more." Freddy and his friend just laughed as they each took
turns climbing up and down. Freddy is foolish. I don't think he's gonna
amount to much. But I'd never dream of saying so; except to my friends here
on Clayart. I noticed alot of others were laughing too. Not out loud in a
joyous sort of way. A kind of quiet laughter born of misunderstanding.
Thomas Purdy didn't show up to give us insight into his motivation for this
particular form of expression but we all had a good time late in the summer
doing something we don't normally do. We spent most of the evening
discussing the toast(someone said they thought it was made of porcelain)
and its significance to us. We even discussed other things and speculated
on the price of grain and how much it takes to feed the cows. Of course
each of us had an opinion and occasionaly some of them coincided. By dark
the people that were left had decided that Mr. Purdy might have something
there. My friend Anne. I don't know if you've met her or not. She's the
serious type you know. She said that just maybe she'd give modern art a try
sometime....
mayonaise
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