About getting “gussied up”. . . I faxed the White House a second time to ask about the dress code. Here in Tulare County, “dressed up” means that I iron a polo shirt for Michael to wear with decent jeans. “Formal” means his best Wranglers, boots, and a “sport” jacket. (“Sport?” What, is he going to play basketball??) Really really formal means a tie with the formal ensemble. The White House returned my fax with a phone call, and I was told in no uncertain terms that “No denim is allowed on the compound”. This meant a major shopping expedition for Michael. Me? I found a $3 blue velveteen jacket at the local thrift shop, and since I have enough clothing for a small island nation of semi-shortish women who wear their skirts too long, this was adequate.
We arrived in style at the White House, and joined the queue to be officially identified as invited guests. Everyone was excited, dressed up, and friendly. When we finally got inside the White House, we began the shuffle down a long hall. Everything was interesting, everyone was nice, every moment was memorable and thrilling. There were 2 men at the reception wearing blue jeans. Michael asked one of them how he got away with that, and the guy said ,”I don’t dress up for nobody”. Apparently he doesn’t bother with proper English either.
The reception was in the East Room.
Outstanding food, and incredible to be there in every way. Here is the podium where Laura Bush spoke. We were too short and too far back in the crowd to see her. (I was wearing my highest heels, to no avail other than possibly doing permanent damage to my feet.)
The tree in The Blue Room was 18′ tall, and my ornament was placed in The Most Perfect Spot Imaginable. It doesn’t show in this blurry photo but appeared in a video of Mrs. Bush with her dogs.
Here is the view from the Blue Room where we were all standing around in shock and awe:
We handed the camera to a stranger to pose in The Red Room (this was in the Pre-selfie Era), and suddenly, the carriages turned to pumpkins. Everywhere we looked, a uniformed guard was saying, “This way please”. That had to have been the quickest 2 hours of my life!
To be concluded on December 26, AKA Boxing Day. . .
Once we knew the date of the White House reception, I began making plans. We have very good friends in Pennsylvania who invited us to stay with them AND, get this, loaned us a car! So we flew into Harrisburg, which has rocking chairs in its airport. (Now that is a bit more common than in 2007.)
Here is how it looks around our friends’ neighborhood:
After recovering from a red-eye flight (Note to self: NEVER do that again), we drove to Old Town Alexandria, Virginia to the home of our friend/cabin neighbor/partner in The Cabins of Mineral King, Janey. The drive was so interesting to us. Just seeing signs along the freeway that mentioned Civil War battlegrounds was fascinating to these West-coasters. And the colors – this photo was taken at a rest stop.
I knew I would love Janey’s town from years of hearing about it. (Please excuse the car in the way – parking is at such a premium in her neighborhood that we had to have a permit for our borrowed car and she had to negotiate with a construction crew for a place to put the car.) These homes were built in the late 1700s, and I was instantly in love with the whole place.
We got all gussied up, and Janey drove us to the White House. Tune in next week. . .
I’ve told this story before, but hope I have new readers since that original telling. Here goes. . .
In August of 2007, I was asked to paint an ornament for the White House Christmas tree, representing Sequoia National Park. My first thought was to moan, “Not another freebie”. An invitation to a White House reception would come with the ornament, and I thought, “So? That’ll be expensive”. A friend said I would be nuts to turn this opportunity down, and then Michael said he’d be happy to come to the White House with me. So, I began painting. (You can see that my painting skills have developed since then, but just be polite, okay?)
At the time the call came, I was working on a painting of Sequoia trees in the snow. I got a few little ornaments and tried the same design on one in acrylic paint, but it dried way too fast. I tried oil paint on another, and that was better.
Eventually, a large shiny gold ornament arrived. It looked like glass, and I was afraid of dropping it. I put layer after layer of white paint on it, carefully handling it as if would break, because if that happened, what would I do?? During one of these layers, my thumb dented the thing a little bit and I realized it was plastic! That eased a bit of worry. When it was finished, my neighbor took photos of me holding it so that the size would be evident.
(This was pre-bangs and pre-gray hair too. Remember to be polite.)
You can see this is no ordinary ornament – it was very big, which made it much easier to paint than my little practice ones.
There was a little difficulty about the reception because no date was given, and various reservations needed to be made. We painters were given a fax number to send any questions, so I faxed a note asking the reception date and how tight the deadline for mailing the ornament was. As I was frantically trying to program in the fax number so a response could be received by my fax machine, the phone rang. “Cabinart, this is Jana”, I answered. “This is Bob at The White House”, came the response. “Hi Bob,” said I, ever so casually. To be continued. . .
This time of year is all about events. All the events are about raising money. That seems to be the normal reason for a party/dinner/anything in Tulare County. Everybody needs money. The causes are endless, and they are all good.
The latest event that I am involved in is an auction at the Courthouse Gallery in Exeter. “Involved” means I support the gallery and donate to their auction each year. This year I have given them this drawing.
I don’t normally give away original art, but the Courthouse Gallery is special. They provide a fabulous place for me to teach drawing lessons and have done so since January of 2002.
HOWEVER, I CANNOT attend auctions where my work is for sale. The stress is too much for my little sensitive self. What is no one bids? What if no one likes it? What if a board member of the gallery has to buy it and donate it back because no one wanted it? What if it only sells for $10? (The price on this original pencil drawing of Sequoias, professionally framed and matted, approximately 11×14″, is $350.)
You can go to the auction. It is a fun afternoon/evening, whatever it is called at this time of day. They always have good hors d’oeuvres and wine (so I’m told).
P.S. I don’t know why my name isn’t on the flyer. Maybe they know I am too chicken to attend. Maybe they weren’t sure I would donate something. Maybe they don’t know how much I appreciate them. But don’t let this little oversight stop you from attending!
Today’s Anne Lang’s Emporium featured painting
Sequoia Gigantea II, 6×18″, oil on wrapped canvas, $150
For the past 20 years or so, I’ve been part of a group called the Kaweah Artisans. We put on a little boutique-sale-show-event each year on the Friday and Saturday following Thanksgiving. We’ve been at the Three Rivers Arts Center for many years, but this year we will be somewhere else in Three Rivers.
We will transform this empty building into a Christmas boutique.
THE PERFECT GIFT BOUTIQUE
41849 Sierra Drive, Three Rivers, California
Thursday, November 23-Friday, November 24
10 a.m. – 4 p.m.
If you are heading uphill/upstream and get to the Chevron station, you’ve gone too far, so turn around, head down, and this time it will be on your right. If you get to the candy store, you’ve gone another mile too far, so buy some chocolate, then turn around, head downstream, and it will be on your right, a few buildings after the Chevron.
PARTICIPANTS: Nikki Crain (weaver), Anne Brown (potter), Carole Clum (metal sculptor), Sam McKinney (gourdista), Elizabeth Mitchell (jeweler) and maybe even a few surprise guests. Oh, and me! Me too!
“Harvest Festival” is a popular name for an arts and craft show in the fall. I have been in 2 this year, and will soon be in a 3rd Harvest Festival which is more of a carnival (not as an artist this time – I’ll probably be making popcorn.)
New show, new location, new faces, and 5 new paintings along with a now-known faulty calendar.
The most recent was at a church in Visalia on Saturday. This was a First Annual Harvest Festival, and the organizers did a good job for their first time out. It isn’t easy to put such an event together.
A benefit of participating in a new show like this is that the organizers are extraordinarily hospitable and helpful. Another benefit, which might be also viewed as a not-so-good, is that with lower attendance, there is plenty of time to talk to each visitor. People are so nice, so interesting and so encouraging at a show like this.
My sales were surprisingly good, but selling oil paintings always boosts the bottom line. 😎 I even presold a non-faulty calendar, along with coloring books, a pencil reproduction print or two, and lots of cards.
I had the privilege of meeting 2 young artists. One showed me some fun assignments on her phone, and we talked about the possibility of an art career. Another was making something during the show and seemed to have an interest in faces. I had the iPad with me and photographed his face so I could teach him about facial proportions. If the show had been busy, I wouldn’t have been able to meet Hailey and Jacob, 2 delightful people who keep me from falling into deep despair over the future of our youths. (Such a middle-aged thing to admit, but I am middle-aged, so there.)
Honeymoon Cabin #32, sold.Sawtooth #31, sold.
I spent some time coloring in my ag coloring book in between visitors. Coloring is only part of my life during shows; normally I knit, garden or read in my time off. What a life, when coloring feels like work!
Last Saturday I participated in the first ever Lemon Cove Women’s Club Harvest Fest (or Festival, depending on which sign I read). I got up at 0-dark-thirty and drove the 14 miles to the beautiful women’s club.
Newly painted and glowing in the morning light.
My space was in the dining room, and my assignment was to cover up and protect the china cabinet in the corner.
The giant dining table was offered to me, so I accepted their kind offer and off-loaded my own table and free-standing pedestals so I could get to my display screens. If I had known in advance, it would have made the loading day easier. But, that’s the thing with shows – you just never know.
Alrighty then, china hutch hidden, merchandise in place, time to go exploring around this grand building that I have admired for so many years.
Smelled heavenly, because the ladies of the club baked all morning long.The front door is open, and the dining room with my things is immediately to the right.The front looks much better in the glowing afternoon sunshine, but by the afternoon, my feet hurt and I wanted to go home instead of take photos.When I lived in Lemon Cove, I had P.O. Box 194. The old PO boxes are upstairs in the clubhouse, and I OPENED MY BOX!! (It was empty.)This is the view from the front steps.
The show was fun because I loved the location, it smelled heavenly, the ladies of the club were so welcoming and helpful. The visitors were steady but no giant rush, so there was plenty of time to talk with them. I saw lots of old friends, met some new folks, sold lots of coloring books and calendars, and stood almost the entire day.
The ladies asked if we’d be willing to stay later than the closing time of 4; I said yes, but by 4:30, most all the vendors had packed and left, so I did the same. Meanwhile, I was able to get one more photo of this grand place with afternoon light.
This is the room across the hall from the dining room. It has a stage at one end, so seems to serve as their primary gathering room.
Then it was time to box up everything and schlep it out to the pick-em-up truck. Loading went smoothly, I drove home where Trail Guy was waiting to help me unload, and then I counted my money and called my walking buddy to say, “Wah wah my feet hurt I can’t go tomorrow wah wah”.
Good show. Not a great show, but a good show. I really really like Lemon Cove.
As a Central Calif. artist in a rural place without galleries, I rely on little art festivals, craft fairs, boutiques and other events to meet the public and sell my work. It is lovely to hide away at home in my studio, but people will forget about me and my work, no one will want drawing lessons or to commission me for paintings or drawings, no one will think of my note cards or remember that I also paint murals. Then I’ll have to get a job.
I’d rather die.
An art co-op in Visalia in 2010.
So, I do these little shows whenever they make sense. Sometimes I have to miss a regular one because of a family wedding or graduation, or because we are closing the cabin that weekend or maybe a new one coincides (collides?) on the same date.
Sequoia Gifts and Souvenirs, Three Rivers, around 2009?
It is hard to decide which will be worth the effort. Is the show established or new? Does it charge an admission fee to the public? Do the organizers know how to publicize? How much is the cost of the booth? Do I have work that will appeal to the sector that is likely to attend? Will anyone attend?
Looks like the Three Rivers Memorial Building and the visible cards on the spinning rack indicate it was in the fall. Looks as if I brought EVERYTHING.
Participants must commit months ahead, fill out applications, pay entry fees, reconfigure electronic files to match the requests for samples of work, rewrite biographies, and fend off requests for freebies. The artist/vendor has to learn if set up is on show day or a day ahead, find out how much space is available (10×10′ is the most common), and learn if there is Wifi available (for taking credit cards).
Summer of 2018, Silver City Store
This artist has to learn if her husband’s pick-em-up truck will be available, or maybe the Botmobile, or maybe I will be strapping display screens to the rack on top of my 2-door Accord.
May 2016, Redbud Festival in Three Rivers, the debut of my coloring books made me feel very very popular. While working on the new coloring book, there wasn’t much time to paint.
As the time approaches, I begin tailoring my merchandise to the area. For example, if it is near Mineral King, I go through my cards, prints and paintings to make sure that everything I have of Mineral King is available. If it is in Lemon Cove, I look through my merchandise and find anything related to citrus or to the area around Lemon Cove. If it is Visalia, I scratch my head and try to figure out what might appeal to city folks. I also take into account the seasons: for example, if it is in the fall, I bring a few paintings of pumpkins and autumn leaves; if it is spring, I include artwork with wildflowers. Sometimes I do something special for the show, like new cards or a few paintings specific to the area.
The day before set-up, I begin gathering all my supports: display screens, screen covers, free-standing pedestals, table-top easels, tablecloths, and anything else that the sometimes unknown and never-before-seen spot will require. Then I figure out how many paintings, drawings, cards, prints, coloring books, Cabins of Wilsonia books, and other miscellaneous merchandise will go.
Redbud Festival in 2007 before I discovered screen covers and wrap-around canvas that doesn’t need framing.
My experience is that I need a giant painting or drawing to catch visitor attention in spite of the fact that those rarely sell at an event like this. People may bring $200 but they want to get as much merchandise as possible for their money, so the least expensive items sell quickest. There are exceptions but this is Tulare County, and what is inexpensive for art in other places is perceived as astronomical around here.
Cards and prints often need to be repackaged and repriced. With or without sales tax? Will I be handling my own $ or will it go to a central cashier? Does it have an old price sticker on it? What is the price of that on my website? Why did the previous gallery put a sticker on that says “6 cards” when it already said “4 cards”? (Have I had these things too long? Why am I doing this again?)
The Perfect Gift Boutique at the Three Rivers Arts Center before I began sharing the stage with Nikki The Fabulous Weaver (and before I discovered screen covers).
Do I have enough business cards? flyers about drawing lessons? flyers about commissions? price stickers? receipt books? pens? signs about prices of paintings and other merchandise?
Is the iPad charged? Shall I take my camera? Did I get small enough bills? (Several years ago I started pre-pricing everything to include tax, rounded to the nearest dollar so that I no longer need a cash box or coins, a brilliantly simple decision.)
Exeter Garden Club Tea, where I was the speaker and took my early paintings, which I painted on boards and put into frames. Glad I don’t do that any more – too heavy, too expensive, and too hard to guess peoples’ tastes.
Everything has to be packed into boxes, and loaded into (or onto) the vehicle. Every single time, I forget the best way to fit it in. Every time I am amazed that it is the support equipment that hogs the room and the merchandise is only a small part of the load. Every time I question what I am taking – enough? too much? the right things?
If set-up occurs the day before the show, it uses up a day of driving if the show is far away, even just 35 miles down the hill (gotta get groceries as long as I’m there!) But it makes the day of the show is easier. If set-up happens the day of the show, it means leaving at O-dark-thirty, unloading, setting up, and then summoning up a cheerful attitude while other vendors waste time chit-chatting, the organizers aren’t sure where your paperwork is, someone else is set up in your spot, and there is no convenient parking for unloading or a clear place to park afterward.
And all that is part of preparing for a show. The show and the break-down of the show is another stack of paragraphs. Are you tired yet?
P.S. I used to do a 3 day show at the Visalia Convention Center that cost hundreds of dollars to enter, required Trail Guy to take a day off work and bring his pick-up, along with my Dad and Mom and their pickup, and my friend let me dismantle her front window store display to use her tables. That show has folded, and no one has matched their grandeur (or high dollars earned) since.
