The days of wine and roses have come to an end.
My days of wine and roses* have been the days of the Vorpal Space.
Red wine for the gallery functions and the countless social visits. Bottles, and cases and boxes of wine. Good stuff -- that French Syrah [best shit for under $5 I ever found], Argentine Malbec, and good dark smoky Hungarian Red. And the bad shit like Charles shaw [three buck Chuck] and the boxed stuff that I gave away free to the unwashed masses who swarmed the space for the openings.
Red roses for gallery openings. And lilies too because the make the whole gallery smell good especially in the warm summer nights. And roses for target practice in promo videos and cutting out of my assistant's teeth in circus shows.
Increasingly I am forced to conclude that maintaining a storefront is not viable. Blame the larger economy. Blame the fact that people in these troubled times seem to prioritize things like rent and food over art purchases.
A few years ago, the shows at Vorpal Space were successful one after the next, for years. Now it seems that I put up an excellent show, buy wine and flowers and generally throw a free party for the general public, only to yet again have that sad conversation with a downcast artist, about how I consider their show a success and how I like and believe in their art, despite the fact that nothing sold. I think the recent shows have been every bit as good as the old ones, but the larger context has changed.
I know that I have often featured marginalized art and that the consumers of such are often themselves marginalized and that such individuals are hit hardest when things taken a turn for the worse. I didn't get into the art gallery game to set artists up to fail. and I'm not willing to feature art I personally find uninteresting to appeal to a wider audience.
So, as of the last week, Gowan and I have moved our base of operations to a beautiful space upstairs in the same building -- over 1000 sq feet of briick walls and hardwood floors with big windows and good light -- plenty of space for receptions and parties (the invite only kind), and a big 45' long wall for art. Gowan has an excellent studio set up, and I will continue to deal in art and curate art and events without the issues of a street level storefront.
This evening I wandered around the empty shell that up until last week has been Vorpal Space. It sounded different empty -- my voice and footfalls echoed in the empty space. The walls are pocked with holes beyond counting, and from each one hung artwork. The big holes are from drywall screws to support heavy canvasses, the small holes from nails to support photographs, There are marks on the wall where the chair backs used to rub, a the patina of the floor reflects the patterns of foot traffic. During the time I had the space I watched all but a handful of art galleries in Portland fail or turnover. It was a good long run, but I am ready to move into the next phase of the Vorpal Space, and that phase is upstairs.
Gowan and I are planning to kick off our new space with a Vorpal Space retrospective featuring 40-50 pieces from my private collection amassed over the last 3 and a half years. It should happen in the next few weeks. Contact me for details.
------------
* The phrase "days of wine and roses" is originally from the poem "Vitae Summa Brevis" by Ernest Dowson (1867-1900):
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.
Red wine for the gallery functions and the countless social visits. Bottles, and cases and boxes of wine. Good stuff -- that French Syrah [best shit for under $5 I ever found], Argentine Malbec, and good dark smoky Hungarian Red. And the bad shit like Charles shaw [three buck Chuck] and the boxed stuff that I gave away free to the unwashed masses who swarmed the space for the openings.
Red roses for gallery openings. And lilies too because the make the whole gallery smell good especially in the warm summer nights. And roses for target practice in promo videos and cutting out of my assistant's teeth in circus shows.
Increasingly I am forced to conclude that maintaining a storefront is not viable. Blame the larger economy. Blame the fact that people in these troubled times seem to prioritize things like rent and food over art purchases.
A few years ago, the shows at Vorpal Space were successful one after the next, for years. Now it seems that I put up an excellent show, buy wine and flowers and generally throw a free party for the general public, only to yet again have that sad conversation with a downcast artist, about how I consider their show a success and how I like and believe in their art, despite the fact that nothing sold. I think the recent shows have been every bit as good as the old ones, but the larger context has changed.
I know that I have often featured marginalized art and that the consumers of such are often themselves marginalized and that such individuals are hit hardest when things taken a turn for the worse. I didn't get into the art gallery game to set artists up to fail. and I'm not willing to feature art I personally find uninteresting to appeal to a wider audience.
So, as of the last week, Gowan and I have moved our base of operations to a beautiful space upstairs in the same building -- over 1000 sq feet of briick walls and hardwood floors with big windows and good light -- plenty of space for receptions and parties (the invite only kind), and a big 45' long wall for art. Gowan has an excellent studio set up, and I will continue to deal in art and curate art and events without the issues of a street level storefront.
This evening I wandered around the empty shell that up until last week has been Vorpal Space. It sounded different empty -- my voice and footfalls echoed in the empty space. The walls are pocked with holes beyond counting, and from each one hung artwork. The big holes are from drywall screws to support heavy canvasses, the small holes from nails to support photographs, There are marks on the wall where the chair backs used to rub, a the patina of the floor reflects the patterns of foot traffic. During the time I had the space I watched all but a handful of art galleries in Portland fail or turnover. It was a good long run, but I am ready to move into the next phase of the Vorpal Space, and that phase is upstairs.
Gowan and I are planning to kick off our new space with a Vorpal Space retrospective featuring 40-50 pieces from my private collection amassed over the last 3 and a half years. It should happen in the next few weeks. Contact me for details.
------------
* The phrase "days of wine and roses" is originally from the poem "Vitae Summa Brevis" by Ernest Dowson (1867-1900):
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.
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caffeinated