Read all about it here and here. Or just go see it for yourself tonight!
Friday, July 9, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
What is the Point of ArtHouston?
ArtHouston is a big event happening this Saturday. Here is a description from the ArtHouston website (with commentary by yours truly):
The Summer Event of ArtHouston 2010, encompassing exhibitions at more than 30 galleries, will open Saturday, July 10. A day long event, it is expected to be the busiest day of the year with many galleries holding evening receptions.
(You might ask--what kind of party animal iron-man can hit 30 openings? I can't and I am really good at it. That's why it's nice if galleries have their openings on different nights. Thank God "The Big Show" is opening Friday.)
A wide range of work will be on display, from realist to abstract paintings, sculpture to mixed media constructions, drawings and works on paper, collage and photography. The featured artists will be both emerging regional talents and established artists from around the world.(In any group of 30 galleries at any time during the year, this description holds, which makes one wonder what distinguishes this day from any other day.)
Participating galleries include those along Colquitt, in the Museum District, the Heights and other areas. The galleries of ArtHouston invite you to their opening activities and to exhibitions continuing through the month. The ArtHouston July Exhibition guide, available mid-June, will provide opening times for each gallery.
The ArtHouston Summer event is free and open to the public.
(In my personal experience, art galleries, being commercial enterprises, are always free and almost always open to the public--although a small number require appointments.)
ArtHouston also provides to the public a year long Houston Gallery Guide, giving you access to find exactly what you are looking for. Brochures may be picked up at all participating galleries beginning in mid-June. For more information on this event or to receive a copy of the brochure please call Mariah Rockefeller at 713.522.9116(This sounds handy!)
I'm sure it will be just fine. I object to so many shows opening at once because it makes it hard for me to see them all. Having a bunch of galleries open on the same night is actually inconvenient. But mainly, I just don't see the point. There is no unifying theme or event (unlike, say, FotoFest or the Artcrawl). But maybe I'm just a big spoilsport. I'll definitely be present at at least some of the openings Friday. See you there!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
FotoFest: How to Run an Art Festival, part 3
Robert Boyd
In the previous two parts, I talked about how FotoFest began and how their finances worked. This time around, I want to discuss a variety of adds and ends that didn't quite fit into the previous posts, including one of the most interesting aspects of FotoFest, the participating galleries.
But first, as we talked, I started wondering why they had never built a photography museum. Over the years, they had had venue problems. For a while, they were in the Brown Convention Center, which in addition to being charmless is also really expensive for an event of this duration (Brown is fine for weekend conventions, but to rent part of for six weeks is very costly). But it had the advantage of putting all the exhibits in one place. Some of the places they display are not ideal (Winter Street Studios, for example). If they had a museum building, they Biennial would have a home every other year. And they do have a collection of prints, which could form the basis for a permanent museum collection.
"It's a wonderful idea but it's just not our way of doing things," Fred Baldwin explained. "This ship does not stop."
When you look at FotoFest from the inside, perhaps the most important part of it is the Meeting Place--the gigantic gathering of photographers and photography professionals that meet for critiques and to make contacts. This was one of the things about the Arles Festival that appealed strongly to Baldwin and Watriss, and one that were determined to create here. (By the way, visualseen has a really great first-hand piece about this year's Meeting Place, written by one of the portfolio reviewers, Tracy Xavia Karner.) But for the general public, the Meeting Place is invisible. What we see are the six official FotoFest exhibits and, in this most recent biennial, the 113 (!) participating exhibits.
Pretty much every gallery in town is a participating space. In addition, most museums and non-profit galleries participate. And finally, a lot of places that you don't usually associate with art exhibits are participating spaces. The primary requirement to be a participating space is that you are serious about it--you can't be a restaurant and hang five photos and be a participating space. "I'm not sure we've ever refused anybody [who asked to be a participating space]," Baldwin said. "On the other hand, we don't encourage every restaurant to become a FotoFest exhibition."
Cover of volume 2 of the FotoFest catalog, which includes some of the participating spaces
But the weird thing is that FotoFest is not involved in the curating of the non-FotoFest exhibitions. (I guess with 113 of them, it would be impossible). What the exhibitors get is identification (signage and those FotoFest posts you see around town), listing on the website, and for a price, inclusion in the catalog. It seems like there is a real risk of damaging the brand if the participating spaces put up really bad shows (and with 113 of them, they can't all be good).
The risk of bad, even embarrassing shows from the participating spaces would keep me up at night. But I think two things are happening that mitigate this risk. First, FotoFest has established itself well, and the spaces that participate work hard to live up to the FotoFest reputation. (Competition probably pushes them to do a good job as well.) Second, even if there are bad shows, in the end people remember the really good ones.
For example, this beautiful MANUAL show at Moody Gallery. Still, from my point of view, there is risk of brand damage. FotoFest has always thrived on risk, as we have seen. And the participating spaces make FotoFest feel HUGE without demanding much in the way of resources from the FotoFest organzation. The diversity (both in type of venue and location) helps make FotoFest more accessible to the public--and that, I'm guessing, has a more positive impact on the FotoFest brand than any occasional bad exhibit would have as a negative impact.
In the previous two parts, I talked about how FotoFest began and how their finances worked. This time around, I want to discuss a variety of adds and ends that didn't quite fit into the previous posts, including one of the most interesting aspects of FotoFest, the participating galleries.
But first, as we talked, I started wondering why they had never built a photography museum. Over the years, they had had venue problems. For a while, they were in the Brown Convention Center, which in addition to being charmless is also really expensive for an event of this duration (Brown is fine for weekend conventions, but to rent part of for six weeks is very costly). But it had the advantage of putting all the exhibits in one place. Some of the places they display are not ideal (Winter Street Studios, for example). If they had a museum building, they Biennial would have a home every other year. And they do have a collection of prints, which could form the basis for a permanent museum collection.
"It's a wonderful idea but it's just not our way of doing things," Fred Baldwin explained. "This ship does not stop."
When you look at FotoFest from the inside, perhaps the most important part of it is the Meeting Place--the gigantic gathering of photographers and photography professionals that meet for critiques and to make contacts. This was one of the things about the Arles Festival that appealed strongly to Baldwin and Watriss, and one that were determined to create here. (By the way, visualseen has a really great first-hand piece about this year's Meeting Place, written by one of the portfolio reviewers, Tracy Xavia Karner.) But for the general public, the Meeting Place is invisible. What we see are the six official FotoFest exhibits and, in this most recent biennial, the 113 (!) participating exhibits.
Pretty much every gallery in town is a participating space. In addition, most museums and non-profit galleries participate. And finally, a lot of places that you don't usually associate with art exhibits are participating spaces. The primary requirement to be a participating space is that you are serious about it--you can't be a restaurant and hang five photos and be a participating space. "I'm not sure we've ever refused anybody [who asked to be a participating space]," Baldwin said. "On the other hand, we don't encourage every restaurant to become a FotoFest exhibition."
Cover of volume 2 of the FotoFest catalog, which includes some of the participating spaces
But the weird thing is that FotoFest is not involved in the curating of the non-FotoFest exhibitions. (I guess with 113 of them, it would be impossible). What the exhibitors get is identification (signage and those FotoFest posts you see around town), listing on the website, and for a price, inclusion in the catalog. It seems like there is a real risk of damaging the brand if the participating spaces put up really bad shows (and with 113 of them, they can't all be good).
The risk of bad, even embarrassing shows from the participating spaces would keep me up at night. But I think two things are happening that mitigate this risk. First, FotoFest has established itself well, and the spaces that participate work hard to live up to the FotoFest reputation. (Competition probably pushes them to do a good job as well.) Second, even if there are bad shows, in the end people remember the really good ones.
For example, this beautiful MANUAL show at Moody Gallery. Still, from my point of view, there is risk of brand damage. FotoFest has always thrived on risk, as we have seen. And the participating spaces make FotoFest feel HUGE without demanding much in the way of resources from the FotoFest organzation. The diversity (both in type of venue and location) helps make FotoFest more accessible to the public--and that, I'm guessing, has a more positive impact on the FotoFest brand than any occasional bad exhibit would have as a negative impact.
Monday, July 5, 2010
FotoFest: How to Run an Art festival, part 2
Robert Boyd
Last time around, we looked at how FotoFest launched itself. They assumed they would be a major operation right from the start, and acted accordingly. Now I want to look at how the organization is run, starting with the financials. Non-profits must file a form 990 with the IRS each year. This form contains within it most of the information one might find in an income statement and balance sheet issued by a publicly-traded corporation, but not in the same format. If you want to see it in that format, you can pay GuideStar (sort of the non-profit equivalent of Edgar). If you don't want to pay, you can download the 990s from GuideStar and still get a rich collection of data.
The most recent 990 for FotoFest was for the period from May 1, 2008 through April 30, 2009. Their revenues for that period were $786,323, with expenses of $865,375, so that year they ran a deficit. This period started just after the 2008 FotoFest (March 7 to April 20, 2008), so I think we saw a kind of weird financial situation. I'm guessing that a lot of the bills for the 2008 FotoFest came due after May 1, 2008--and thus were registered in that tax year. But I bet most of the revenue associated with FotoFest 2008 came before May 1! Before we dive in deeper, I want to compare FotoFest to a few other arts organizations in town that are registered nonprofits (and thus produce 990s).
On the tiny end, Box 13 had total revenues of $62,161 in 2009. Because their revenues were less than $500,000, they were able to use form 990-EZ, which is too bad (for me) because it lacks a lot of detail. Their assets were $5440--they don't own that cool building they are in. FotoFest is similar--they are renters, not owners. Their net assets were $456,824, and they consisted mainly of office equipment and photos that they own (and sometimes deaccession to raise money). The Art League, on the other hand, owns a beautiful new building, making them asset rich ($1,182,820 as of May 31, 2009) but weirdly enough, revenue-poor ($262,182). The ran a relatively large deficit that year ($137,840)--they could probably use some contributions, people! (Or at least stop by and drink some coffee at Inversion.) The CAMH has one big fat asset, its building. Its net assets as of June 30, 2008 were $7,424,659, with revenue of $2,662,376 and a deficit of $332,911. Diverseworks is, in size, closest to FotoFest: assets as of August 1, 2008 were $459,910 (they are evidently renters), revenue was $780,652 and that year they ended up with a $67,830 surplus. All the above visual art organizations, including FotoFest, are involved in displaying art as well as other artistic endeavors (art classes, art studios, etc.). None of them are art-collecting institutions. The MFAH is, and that is reflected in the value of their assets as of June 30, 2008: $1,146,624,730! (Their many buildings also add a lot to this total.) Their revenue that year was $52 million, and they ran a $6 million surplus.
So, back to FotoFest. I mentioned that revenue and expenses are likely to be "lumpy" because their big event happens every two years. The 2009 return didn't include a FotoFest and had revenues of $783 thousand. But the 2008 revenue was $1,590,893--more than twice as much. When FotoFest comes around, people open their wallets.
Who is opening her wallet? Let's look at 2008, since it was a high revenue year. Of that $1.59 million, $1.43 million came in the form of "gifts, grants and contributions received." Form 990 includes a schedule of contributors. These are only contributors who contributed at least $5000 or 2% of the total contributions, whichever is higher. In FotoFest's case, they are only required to show contributions equal or greater than $31,817 (in 2008--the totals were much lower in 2007 and 2009). They only had five contributors who met that minimum in 2008--well-known foundations like The Brown Foundation ($105,000), the Cullen Foundation ($150,000) and the Houston Endowment ($150,000). It's worth noticing that the Houston Arts Alliance gave $55,900. They are a 501 (3)(c) funded by the city--specifically by the hotel occupancy tax.
If we look at 2009, we can start to see some of the deep-pocketed individuals (as opposed to foundations) who contributed to FotoFest. They did a Form 990 EZ in 2009, which meant they were required to list every donor who gave $5000 or more. The big foundations gave a lot less that year. On one hand, it may be that FotoFest asked for less (it being an "off-year"), but we must also consider that the foundations' endowments took huge hits that year. The foundations are still the major donors, but six individuals or married couples gave more than $5000 that year.
How much of the contributions are from the deep pocket people? In 2009, they received $763,815 in contributions. Of that, $403,050 came from foundations and individuals contributing more than $5000. So the proletariat contributed $360,765. When you stuffed a dollar into the donations box, you did your part.
One thing you notice when you look at these tax forms is that FotoFest spends all the money they get. And why not? They aren't a corporation--they are not going to pay out dividends. They ask for the money they need. Sometimes they get a little more than that, sometimes a little less. The foundations look closely at their books and operation.
"In your proposal to the foundation, you include your budget, you include last year's 990, as well as the year end report," Wendy Watriss explained. She laid out how much money comes from the various sources:
30% foundations
8% from corporations (in-kind donations and cash)
25% earned income (we'll return to this)
20% events (mainly a fine print auction with Sotheby's, but they also have an education event)
11% government
6% individuals
One can imagine that this differs greatly for different organizations and festivals. I think this speaks to the longevity of FotoFest. They know their way around foundations, and since foundations (as we have seen) are able to write the biggest checks,their time and effort cultivating them has a good ROI. The earned income also reflects 20 odd years of doing this--they know how to make money. (Not that making money is their goal.)
I thought I'd be able to handle this in two entries, but I think I'll need a third. I want to briefly discuss the participating spaces and a few other odds and ends.
Last time around, we looked at how FotoFest launched itself. They assumed they would be a major operation right from the start, and acted accordingly. Now I want to look at how the organization is run, starting with the financials. Non-profits must file a form 990 with the IRS each year. This form contains within it most of the information one might find in an income statement and balance sheet issued by a publicly-traded corporation, but not in the same format. If you want to see it in that format, you can pay GuideStar (sort of the non-profit equivalent of Edgar). If you don't want to pay, you can download the 990s from GuideStar and still get a rich collection of data.
The most recent 990 for FotoFest was for the period from May 1, 2008 through April 30, 2009. Their revenues for that period were $786,323, with expenses of $865,375, so that year they ran a deficit. This period started just after the 2008 FotoFest (March 7 to April 20, 2008), so I think we saw a kind of weird financial situation. I'm guessing that a lot of the bills for the 2008 FotoFest came due after May 1, 2008--and thus were registered in that tax year. But I bet most of the revenue associated with FotoFest 2008 came before May 1! Before we dive in deeper, I want to compare FotoFest to a few other arts organizations in town that are registered nonprofits (and thus produce 990s).
On the tiny end, Box 13 had total revenues of $62,161 in 2009. Because their revenues were less than $500,000, they were able to use form 990-EZ, which is too bad (for me) because it lacks a lot of detail. Their assets were $5440--they don't own that cool building they are in. FotoFest is similar--they are renters, not owners. Their net assets were $456,824, and they consisted mainly of office equipment and photos that they own (and sometimes deaccession to raise money). The Art League, on the other hand, owns a beautiful new building, making them asset rich ($1,182,820 as of May 31, 2009) but weirdly enough, revenue-poor ($262,182). The ran a relatively large deficit that year ($137,840)--they could probably use some contributions, people! (Or at least stop by and drink some coffee at Inversion.) The CAMH has one big fat asset, its building. Its net assets as of June 30, 2008 were $7,424,659, with revenue of $2,662,376 and a deficit of $332,911. Diverseworks is, in size, closest to FotoFest: assets as of August 1, 2008 were $459,910 (they are evidently renters), revenue was $780,652 and that year they ended up with a $67,830 surplus. All the above visual art organizations, including FotoFest, are involved in displaying art as well as other artistic endeavors (art classes, art studios, etc.). None of them are art-collecting institutions. The MFAH is, and that is reflected in the value of their assets as of June 30, 2008: $1,146,624,730! (Their many buildings also add a lot to this total.) Their revenue that year was $52 million, and they ran a $6 million surplus.
So, back to FotoFest. I mentioned that revenue and expenses are likely to be "lumpy" because their big event happens every two years. The 2009 return didn't include a FotoFest and had revenues of $783 thousand. But the 2008 revenue was $1,590,893--more than twice as much. When FotoFest comes around, people open their wallets.
Who is opening her wallet? Let's look at 2008, since it was a high revenue year. Of that $1.59 million, $1.43 million came in the form of "gifts, grants and contributions received." Form 990 includes a schedule of contributors. These are only contributors who contributed at least $5000 or 2% of the total contributions, whichever is higher. In FotoFest's case, they are only required to show contributions equal or greater than $31,817 (in 2008--the totals were much lower in 2007 and 2009). They only had five contributors who met that minimum in 2008--well-known foundations like The Brown Foundation ($105,000), the Cullen Foundation ($150,000) and the Houston Endowment ($150,000). It's worth noticing that the Houston Arts Alliance gave $55,900. They are a 501 (3)(c) funded by the city--specifically by the hotel occupancy tax.
If we look at 2009, we can start to see some of the deep-pocketed individuals (as opposed to foundations) who contributed to FotoFest. They did a Form 990 EZ in 2009, which meant they were required to list every donor who gave $5000 or more. The big foundations gave a lot less that year. On one hand, it may be that FotoFest asked for less (it being an "off-year"), but we must also consider that the foundations' endowments took huge hits that year. The foundations are still the major donors, but six individuals or married couples gave more than $5000 that year.
How much of the contributions are from the deep pocket people? In 2009, they received $763,815 in contributions. Of that, $403,050 came from foundations and individuals contributing more than $5000. So the proletariat contributed $360,765. When you stuffed a dollar into the donations box, you did your part.
One thing you notice when you look at these tax forms is that FotoFest spends all the money they get. And why not? They aren't a corporation--they are not going to pay out dividends. They ask for the money they need. Sometimes they get a little more than that, sometimes a little less. The foundations look closely at their books and operation.
"In your proposal to the foundation, you include your budget, you include last year's 990, as well as the year end report," Wendy Watriss explained. She laid out how much money comes from the various sources:
30% foundations
8% from corporations (in-kind donations and cash)
25% earned income (we'll return to this)
20% events (mainly a fine print auction with Sotheby's, but they also have an education event)
11% government
6% individuals
One can imagine that this differs greatly for different organizations and festivals. I think this speaks to the longevity of FotoFest. They know their way around foundations, and since foundations (as we have seen) are able to write the biggest checks,their time and effort cultivating them has a good ROI. The earned income also reflects 20 odd years of doing this--they know how to make money. (Not that making money is their goal.)
They have workshops and portfolio reviews (the Meeting Place) for which they charge photographers to attend. The portfolio reviewers include museum curators, publishers, gallery owners, editors, directors of non-profit organizations and photo agencies--so for photographers, this isn't just a place to get feedback. Serious professional connections can be made at The Meeting Place--not to mention sales. There are potential tangible benefits, and that attracts serious photographers from all over. This is an aspect of FotoFest that is largely invisible to the public, though.
Another revenue generator is the catalog(s) they publish for each festival.
This year, there were two volumes (I think that's how it has been for recent festivals). One is for the official FotoFest exhibits and one for the participating spaces, and they cost $35 if you buy them through the FotoFest website. These are large, beautifully designed books with a stunning variety of photographs in them.
What does all this revenue pay for? I think anyone who has been to the biennial can see that it is a complex and probably expensive event. Form 990 breaks it down somewhat. In 2007 (which included the 2008 biennial). Salaries and wages cost $156,206 (six salaried employees plus two contract workers--they depend a lot on volunteers and short term contract workers during the biennial. They spent $111 thousand on contract labor, and $159 thousand on professional fees--which presumably include the professionals brought in for the Meeting Place). Legal fees were $36 thousand, as was shipping and postage (presumably shipping the artwork accounts for most of that). Printing and publication was $170 thousand--catalogs, which as I mentioned are large and luxurous, as well as mailers and brochures. Travel soaked up $323 thousand. This seems crazy, but I suspect it includes the hotel rooms they purchase for the show, which Watriss said accounts for $200 thousand in hotel rooms for the Doubletree and Lancaster hotels. Because fo the complexity of the Biennial, FotoFest ends up adding a whole additional section, "Statement 2," to the expenses section of Form 990.
So they know what things cost, what their budget is each year, and what to ask for from the foundations. Does it always work? No, because sources of income aren't always dependable.
"We had Kodak as our sponsor in 1992 with a contribution of $500,000," Baldwin explained. Remember the largest contribution in 07-08 was $150,000. "Then in '94, we got zero from Kodak because they fired their CEO [Kay Whitmore], the guy who was funding us. And that created a major crisis for us. It took us two years to dig out of that hole."
"After '92, we downsized by 45 to 50% in staff and operating costs," Watriss added.
"We came out of that stronger than ever," Baldwin said. "The fact that we went through it and survived added to our reputation."
I thought I'd be able to handle this in two entries, but I think I'll need a third. I want to briefly discuss the participating spaces and a few other odds and ends.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
FotoFest: How to Run an Art Festival, part 1
Robert Boyd
I have always been interested in the economics of art, and since getting an MBA, also interested in the nuts and bolts of running an artistic enterprise. This puts me in a minority among people interested in art--artists in particular would rather not hear about it, even though they are the people most affected by these issues, the most vulnerable, the ones with the most to gain and lose. This spring, as I was attending FotoFest exhibits (both the main exhibits and the ones at the many participating spaces), I found myself wondering about the economics of art festivals and biennials. Clearly there are a lot of models, including the purely commercial model of Art Fairs (or comic book conventions, for that matter), as well as a variety of non-profit and semi-commercial affairs.
I have always been interested in the economics of art, and since getting an MBA, also interested in the nuts and bolts of running an artistic enterprise. This puts me in a minority among people interested in art--artists in particular would rather not hear about it, even though they are the people most affected by these issues, the most vulnerable, the ones with the most to gain and lose. This spring, as I was attending FotoFest exhibits (both the main exhibits and the ones at the many participating spaces), I found myself wondering about the economics of art festivals and biennials. Clearly there are a lot of models, including the purely commercial model of Art Fairs (or comic book conventions, for that matter), as well as a variety of non-profit and semi-commercial affairs.
I decided the best way to find out about how a FotoFest-style art festival is run would be to sit down with the people who run FotoFest and ask them. Wendy Watriss and Fred Baldwin, who cofounded FotoFest in 1985 and still run it today, generously gave me two hours of their time and didn't flinch when I asked them nosy questions about FotoFest finances and operations.
I'm dividing this post into
When you start a non-profit enterprise, you basically have two choices--either you start big or you start small and try to grow it to the right size (whatever that is). One reason to take the latter approach is that growing it gradually allows you to acquire the operational skills you will need to run a bigger operation. But as anyone who has seen a business grow can attest, there are different competencies needed for small start-ups than are needed for large, more mature operations--and the transitions between those states can kill a business. The competency you acquire in the start-up stage may not only be irrelevant but positively counterproductive in the more mature stage of the operation. That's why there are serial entrepreneurs--people good at starting businesses who sell out before the business becomes too big, then move onto to the next opportunity. Do these people exist in the non-profit arts institutional world? Maybe, but Watriss and Baldwin are decidedly not like that.
The other obvious reason to start small and grow gradually is that it allows you the time you might need to build up a donor list. You establish a reputation, get the attention of some foundations, grow some, get attention of more donors, etc. A nice neat virtuous cycle. It seems logical, but it doesn't take into account a powerful psychological motivations of donors. If you start small and grow gradually, by the time you reach certain targeted donors, you are no longer the new kid on the block. Donors may not feel excited about supporting your organization at that stage.
A third reason to start small is that the public may need time to become used to the ideas you are presenting them. If your curatorial ideas are outside the mainstream or unfamiliar to people, you could end up with a lot of deserted exhibitions. Start small and find your audience, then grow from there. Very logical. FotoFest categorically rejected these cautious, conservative ideas.
"We decided that in order to make it work in Texas, it had to be big," Baldwin said. "Some people tried to persuade us that Houston was not a photography town, you needed to educate the public and start off with Ansel Adams and work up.
"We decided to do the opposite."
Baldwin, a professor of photojournalism at U.H., and Watriss got the idea for the festival in the early 80s. They had been to the long-running photography festival in Arles, where they made some contacts, got some magazine assignments, and sold some photos to European museums. They liked what they saw. "On the plane back, we decided to do something like this in Houston," Baldwin said.
Also in the early 80s, Jacques Chirac instituted the Mois de la Photo (Month of Photography) in Paris, in which photos would be shown in all the municipal museums in the city for a month.
"We combined those two ideas for FotoFest in the planning stages," Baldwin explained.
At this point, they were at the stage where a lot of projects founder. They had a great idea. Period. Now they had to gain credibility and introduce Houston to the idea. They took a series of fairly audacious steps to achieve these two goals.
First, they drew up the names of three hundred people who had given money to the arts in Houston. They wrote these people letters explaining the FotoFest idea. They got no response whatsoever. Instead of giving up, they instead concluded that this was the wrong approach to take, and went in an entirely different direction.
Next, they brought over the director of the Mois de la Photo to meet with the mayor and the city council. While he was in town, they also introduced him to a few representatives from the business community. This got some interest going.
The next step was to invite four very famous photographers (Ikko Narahara, Franco Fontana, William Klein, and Helmut Newton) to come to Houston in February, 1985, to photograph the rodeo. They made certain that this was a huge social event and that as a huge social event, it was associated with FotoFest (the first official FotoFest was already scheduled for 1986). The Houston Chronicle captures the flavor of the event:
Back in 1962 a gorgeous American model known then as the girl with the $100,000 face" posed for a French Vogue fashion layout photographed in Paris by the already famous Helmut Newton.
Considering inflation and the way she still looks, Houston socialite-wife-mother-thoroughbred horse breeder Dolores (Mrs. Stuart) Phelps could be tabbed the million-dollar face" today.
Helmut Newton, even more famous than ever, this time was in Houston and delighted to be having a reunion with his former photo subject. [...]
Newton was one of a group of premier international photographers who have been focusing their cameras all this week on the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo and other Bayou City vistas. [...]
French Consul General Didier Quentin took center stage at the party to read a telegram of congratulations from Paris Mayor Jacques Chirac [and] City Councilwoman Eleanor Tinsley, representing Mayor Kathy Whitmire, read a Foto Fest proclamation. Heading out with husband Jim Tinsley for the opening performance of the rodeo, she wore a chic cowgirl's scarf knotted at the neckline of her navy jacket.
Camera International publisher Lorenzo Merlo of Amsterdam introduced the photographers who were brought to Houston by Foto Fest: Ikko Narahara of Japan. He and wife Keiko are staying with Betty and Freck Fleming of Paradise Bar and Grill fame and driving publicist Barbara Dillingham's little red Toyota truck. Japan's Consul General Taizan Araki was among the guests at the party.
Franco Fontana of Italy, a color and landscape specialist who lives in Modena and has compiled books about his home town and Bologna. Former honorary Italian consul Achille Arcidiacono is playing host to the Italian contingent which also includes photographer Ernesto Bozan and art magazine publisher-photo collector Franco Panini. Houston photographer Ed Daniel, doing yeoman service with a camera at the party, also is chauffeuring the Italians.
In absentia, William Klein, an American photojournalist who has lived in Paris for a number of years and done books on Rome, Moscow, Tokyo and New York. Houston next? He and wife and son arrived the day after the party and are house guests of Gay Block.
Joe and Christina Hudson were to take the visitors to their ranch in Brazoria County. (Betty Ewing, The Houston Chronicle, 2/23/1985)
Many more socialites and prominent Houstonians were mentioned in this article. FotoFest was extremely canny in bringing these four world-renowned photographers to Houston, and lining them up with the local aristocracy. Houston was an insecure city in the mid-80s (and in many ways still is). The city was then riding very high on high petroleum prices--as the oil business grew and got rich, so had Houston. (Oil prices would crash one year later. If they had decided on a "start small" model, they might have expired then and there.) Urban Cowboy chic had happened, partly as a result of the fascination with brash, wealthy Houston. But Houston was feeling culturally not up to snuff. Where were our writers and artists, our great cultural institutions, especially compared to New York and L.A. and Chicago? FotoFest played off this insecurity. The social and political leaders loved the fact that a bunch of the world's greatest photographers were here, in their homes, at their parties.
Lesson learned: if you want the rich in Houston to open their wallets, don't send them a letter. Instead, let them party with Helmut Newton. The party described above was paid for by foundation grants (!), but the party itself was the seed for raising real money for the 1986 festival.
I was talking recently with someone who runs a tiny alternative art space, and she was fretting about how to make it grow, how to fulfill her ambitions for it. So I suggested becoming a 501 (c)(3). But she was reluctant because a 501 (c)(3) had a board of directors and she was reluctant to hand her vision over to them. But she also complained that she didn't want to be in the position where she would have to host a fund-raising gala. The way she pronounced the word "gala" said it all. The thought was simultaneously distasteful and terrifying. But FotoFest succeeded right from the beginning by embracing that aspect of a non-profit's existence. These moves allowed them to start big--the inaugural festival had 60 exhibitions.And despite various hiccups, FotoFest has been running every other year ever since.
In Part II, I'll discuss how it runs. We'll look at what it costs to put on and where the money to put it on comes from. (Get ready to dive into some tax documents with me! Oh boy!)
FotoFest 2010 opening night
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Two Abecedaria
According to Wikipedia, an abecedarium is "an inscription consisting of the letters of the alphabet, almost always listed in order. Typically, abecedaria (or abecedaries) are practice exercises." Related is an abecediary, which they define as "the full alphabet carved in stone or written in book form, historically found in churches, monasteries and other ecclesiastical buildings." A modern abecedarium could be anything made out of the letters of the alphabet. By a bizarre coincidence, I encountered two very different abecedaria recently.
Roeland Otten, ABChairs, laminated MDF, 2010
I saw these on Art Milk (a great blog that everyone should subscribe to). They don't look terribly comfortable, but aside from that they are totally cool. There is a lot more information and many more photos of the chairs on Roeland Otten's website.(And while you are there, you can listen to--and download--his collection of "afrobot" music.)
Roeland Otten, ABChairs letter b, laminated MDF, 2010
Then I got Abecederia
from an English design-oriented publisher, Nobrow.
Blexbolex, Abecedaria, picture book, 2009
The title refers to a place--a kind of slave labor concentration camp in an African country. But the book is also an abecedarium. Each page has a large illustration in which a letter of the alphabet forms the main design element.
Blexbolex, Abecedaria pages 16 and 17, picture book, 2009
The book has the form and the style of a children's book. But the grim, violent, and frankly disturbing subject matter tells a different story. Two robbers rob a bank, then escape into the jungle to the "colony" of Abecedaria. In it, a German scientist is doing unspeakable experiments on his enslaved prisoners (including our "heroes"). He does this with the apparent connivance of the dictator of Katagonia (which in my mind I thought of being like Zaire under Mobutu, but there are distressingly many possible models). The scientist, Dr. Praxis, has discovered a crash-landed alien, which it is studying--until the alien gets frisky with the narrator.
Blexbolex, Abecedaria page 22, picture book, 2009
Blexbolex is the pen-name of French cartoonist and children's book illustrator Bernard Granger. A couple of his books have been published in English by Nobrow, and one of his children's books, Seasons, has been published in English by Gecko Press. Nobrow also published preliminary sketches for Abecedaria, if you are interested in seeing a little of Blexbolex's process. The end result is something stylish and nostalgic, reminding one of children's books from the '60s. This is in bizarre contrast to the grim and lurid story.
I like to imagine someone sitting in one of the ABChairs reading Abecedaria. Perhaps Otten and Blexbolex should team up to cross-promote their respective abecedaria.
Roeland Otten, ABChairs, laminated MDF, 2010
I saw these on Art Milk (a great blog that everyone should subscribe to). They don't look terribly comfortable, but aside from that they are totally cool. There is a lot more information and many more photos of the chairs on Roeland Otten's website.(And while you are there, you can listen to--and download--his collection of "afrobot" music.)
Roeland Otten, ABChairs letter b, laminated MDF, 2010
Then I got Abecederia
from an English design-oriented publisher, Nobrow.
Blexbolex, Abecedaria, picture book, 2009
The title refers to a place--a kind of slave labor concentration camp in an African country. But the book is also an abecedarium. Each page has a large illustration in which a letter of the alphabet forms the main design element.
Blexbolex, Abecedaria pages 16 and 17, picture book, 2009
The book has the form and the style of a children's book. But the grim, violent, and frankly disturbing subject matter tells a different story. Two robbers rob a bank, then escape into the jungle to the "colony" of Abecedaria. In it, a German scientist is doing unspeakable experiments on his enslaved prisoners (including our "heroes"). He does this with the apparent connivance of the dictator of Katagonia (which in my mind I thought of being like Zaire under Mobutu, but there are distressingly many possible models). The scientist, Dr. Praxis, has discovered a crash-landed alien, which it is studying--until the alien gets frisky with the narrator.
Blexbolex, Abecedaria page 22, picture book, 2009
Blexbolex is the pen-name of French cartoonist and children's book illustrator Bernard Granger. A couple of his books have been published in English by Nobrow, and one of his children's books, Seasons, has been published in English by Gecko Press. Nobrow also published preliminary sketches for Abecedaria, if you are interested in seeing a little of Blexbolex's process. The end result is something stylish and nostalgic, reminding one of children's books from the '60s. This is in bizarre contrast to the grim and lurid story.
I like to imagine someone sitting in one of the ABChairs reading Abecedaria. Perhaps Otten and Blexbolex should team up to cross-promote their respective abecedaria.
Ali Fitzgerald
Robert Boyd
Readers of Pan know I am into comics as well as other kinds of visual art. (I always worry that I am boring the "art people" with all my comics posts). I am also really interested in the intersection of these two worlds, which are pretty distinct but overlap somewhat.
I have Art 21 on my RSS feed, and this popped onto my Google reader a couple of weeks ago.
Ali Fitzgerald, Lucia and Me page 3, comic page, 2010
Like virtually all cartoonists, Fitzgerald draws herself as a sad sack. But here's what she actually looks like.
It amazed and amused me that she used an American Flagg! cover as the background. It was as if she were reasserting her American identity as an expat. But there is something else there. American Flagg! was about a decadent future post-collapse America that has been rebuilt by a corporation on Mars. Fitzgerald is in a semi-decadent Berlin that has been rebuilt by various corporations as well. The myth of Berlin is something she embraces.
Hence the graphic novel. Only the first batch of pages has been put on line, but Fitzgerald says she has plenty more. I hope to see them soon.
What does her non-comics work look like? Take a look at this:
Ali Fitzgerald, Tommy-Faye Buffalo, Heyra Hankshaw and the Cowering Cowboy Castrati, Acrylic and Ink on Canvas, 2005
Perfect for someone going to Berlin intent on embracing bohemia, no? It has a lot of Otto Dix in it, along with a splash of the all-American decay of Ivan Albright. And the piece is huge.
It would be a brave (or at least eccentric) collector who hung that baby on his wall.
So this graphic novel looks like it might be good, but I hope Fitzgerald hasn't given up on her non-comics work. I look forward to seeing more of her work (at Art Palace, perhaps?) in the future.
(As far as mixing up comics and art, Art 21 is not afraid to do it. See this recent post. Not only does it make its point with ease, it also is an almost perfect example of demonstrating the difference between comics that are art and comics that aren't. In the world of comics, this is an unusually contentious subject!)
Readers of Pan know I am into comics as well as other kinds of visual art. (I always worry that I am boring the "art people" with all my comics posts). I am also really interested in the intersection of these two worlds, which are pretty distinct but overlap somewhat.
I have Art 21 on my RSS feed, and this popped onto my Google reader a couple of weeks ago.
Born in Oakland, California, Ali Fitzgerald is an artist and writer living (and occasionally working) in Berlin. She holds a B.A. from Davidson College (2004), attended the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture the same year, and received her M.F.A. from the University of Texas at Austin in 2007. Her work has been featured in the New York Times, Art in America, and Artlies! She has also collaborated with Artlies! on their visual space and written for ..might be good. She is represented by Houston’s Art Palace and her work can be found in the Drawing Center’s Viewing Program. Most recently, she showed at the Center for Book Arts in New York and started a Berlin comic diary, found here.Hey, I read ...might be good and Artlies!, and I like Art Palace, and she does comics. Interesting coincidence. So I checked out her work--with some trepidation. I think comics people might know what I mean. When someone comes from the art world to do a comic, the result can be pretty disappointed. On one hand, they sometimes come to it without the baggage of tradition (I wrote about this in discussing Anke Feuchtenberger's work). But sometimes comics by visual artists just don't work as comics--they just don't get the idea of how sequential images might work as a narrative, or even if they do, they end up producing something trite and inconsequential. But Fitzgerald seems to dodge those bullets. She has a story she wants to tell, and the ability to tell it. (I reserve full judgment until I see more work, though.)
Ali Fitzgerald, Lucia and Me page 3, comic page, 2010
Like virtually all cartoonists, Fitzgerald draws herself as a sad sack. But here's what she actually looks like.
It amazed and amused me that she used an American Flagg! cover as the background. It was as if she were reasserting her American identity as an expat. But there is something else there. American Flagg! was about a decadent future post-collapse America that has been rebuilt by a corporation on Mars. Fitzgerald is in a semi-decadent Berlin that has been rebuilt by various corporations as well. The myth of Berlin is something she embraces.
Only now I wheeze and roll my eyes at brash, middle-eastern scarfed Americans coming to Berlin in search of some Bohemian Bowie dream. And finding it really. I mean, it exists and even flourishes here.
The idea of Bohemia and it’s pratfalls interests me a lot. [...] In Berlin, being poor is a kind of status. I mean, everyone I know wants money, and there certainly are herds of trustafarians scampering about. But generally, at least in my circles, there is a disdain for the high life: a shared kind of financial fatalism.
My former roommate Lucia epitomized Bohemia for me. Weeks of only eating potatoes. Smoking my leftover butts like Jack Kerouac. A retro view of bodily performance, an investment in Jim Morrison and PJ Harvey, an older idea of what it means to be an artist.
Hence the graphic novel. Only the first batch of pages has been put on line, but Fitzgerald says she has plenty more. I hope to see them soon.
What does her non-comics work look like? Take a look at this:
Ali Fitzgerald, Tommy-Faye Buffalo, Heyra Hankshaw and the Cowering Cowboy Castrati, Acrylic and Ink on Canvas, 2005
Perfect for someone going to Berlin intent on embracing bohemia, no? It has a lot of Otto Dix in it, along with a splash of the all-American decay of Ivan Albright. And the piece is huge.
It would be a brave (or at least eccentric) collector who hung that baby on his wall.
So this graphic novel looks like it might be good, but I hope Fitzgerald hasn't given up on her non-comics work. I look forward to seeing more of her work (at Art Palace, perhaps?) in the future.
(As far as mixing up comics and art, Art 21 is not afraid to do it. See this recent post. Not only does it make its point with ease, it also is an almost perfect example of demonstrating the difference between comics that are art and comics that aren't. In the world of comics, this is an unusually contentious subject!)
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