Lynn Open Studios

The artist at Lynn Open Studios with an ikon of Apollo, other ikons behind. (photo by Seth Albaum/Lynn Happens.com)

My first time participating in open studios was a good one. It was the kick in the tail I needed to finish my portfolio, get this blog started, and it gave me a work space for the day to start and finish the Apollo Ikon. My 'table' did have a few visitors who asked questions about the work, and seemed sincerely interested. 

I would like to thank Jocelyn Almy Testa and Seth Albaum for publicizing my work. Mostly, though, I would like to express my heartfelt thanks to my friends who came to support me...(in order of appearance) model/fellow artist/kindred spirit, rock star, Mark Duchane, Boston Rock legend of Slow Children and Boys Say Go Fame, now co-founder of James Straight and the Wide Stance, Reverend Joe Fagan and his beautiful wife, photographer Leslie Wissing. Next, much to my pleasant surprise, came my wonderful student Stefanie Proudfoot-McBride. Then, ending the day, my friends, models and beauties arrived; the co-founders of Booze Epoque, Harmony Dawn and Meaghan Sinclair, and erudite intellectual, wit and future Artemis model, Jennifer Thompson. We packed up, loaded the Harmony-mobile and headed over to The Blue Ox to hoist a few celebratory artisan cocktails with Jocelyn and her husband Jeff.

With Thanksgiving preparations fast on the heels of open studios, I did not have much time to decompress and consider the event's successes and shortcomings. Also, because I was in the J.B. Blood Building from start to finish, I really couldn't see what was going on in the rest of the venues or how many visitors were on the streets. We all agreed, however, that there is room for improvement and this is already in the works. Jocelyn has signed many artists for next year and started forming committees to ensure a successful Open Studios '13. I will support Open Studios next year whether I am in Lynn, or back in Europe. It is a monumental event and intrinsic to the improvement of the City of Lynn and her image.

More on IKONS: Angels and Muses

“Ikons” is just starting. “The Greeks” is only my first chapter and it has been in the works for some time. Most people think the reasons for this are lack of funds, and relocating from the U.S. to Europe and back again. That is only partially true.

When taking on a project of epic proportions, time, money, logistics, and inspiration are rare, fleeting, and more valuable than the most precious of preciouses. When dealing with a concept that goes deeper than deep, challenges the status quo, and seeks to open a dialogue where a stone wall now stands, emotional support is paramount. I am luckier than most because I have a host of Angels on my side.

My project would be nothing without its models and for far more than just the obvious reasons.  Each Ikon is a representation of an Olympian or Titan god, or hero. The model must be more than a physical representation of the subject. They must possess an inner light, an undefinable quality that enables the audience to quickly identify the archetype and resonate with it. Finding people who carry the Promethean ‘light of the god’ inside them is not easy. But I have been blessed to be surrounded by gods, goddesses, heroes and heroines in my ‘tribe’.  I have been doubly blessed to encounter them on my travels abroad, and to become part of their ‘family’.

I never know where I might find my models. They come from all across Europe and all across the U.S.A. Some are blood relatives; some are lifelong friends, both old and new. Some, I met on my travels, and some were in my backyard all along.

The most elusive god throughout, has been Apollo. This is most ironic because he is the one to whom I owe the greatest debt, and he is the one with whom I am most familiar. However, in Prague, Oslo, Athens, Copenhagen, and New York City…wherever I looked, he eluded me. 

When recounting my dilemma to an acquaintance in Oslo, she informed me that she knew a boy from her school days who was a dead ringer for Apollo in his most popular guise, The Apollo Belvedere. He was tall, muscular, had curly blond hair and chiseled features, she told me. I asked her to arrange a coffee date with him so I could judge for myself and tell him about the project. Upon meeting him I was stunned by how much he did, indeed, look like the famous statue. But as time and conversation went on, I realized he just wasn’t right. Although technically he was ‘physically’ Apollo in the most traditional sense, he did not match my project and he did not possess that inner light, ‘the light of the god’.

Almost two years passed. Then, one Friday after teaching my last class of the week, I decided to make a pit-stop at a local bar for an after work beer. The bar is a Lynn, young working class person’s combination Tiki/Sports Bar that features DJs and cover bands in the evening, and a colorful array of local characters in the afternoons.  Here you will find anyone from retired IRA men, to self-proclaimed outlaws and murderers, to the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte, so you can imagine my surprise when HE walked in. 

A local boy, turned art student, turned public school teacher, who plays in two rock bands by night came in to pass flyers out promoting his next gig. I only saw him for a fleeting moment, felt him more than saw him, and after only a minute’s hesitation, followed him outside to ask, no, beg him to pose for my project as Apollo.   He carried that inner light, and he had the right combination of edginess and majesty, and mischief and danger to fulfill the requirements of the most complex archetype. 

The connection was instant. He understood my ramblings completely and agreed to work with me. To this day I am stunned that after all these years, and searching all these exotic and ancient cities, my Apollo was a Lynn boy discovered at The Sand Bar in Lynn, Massachusetts.

Now all my models have been chosen. I have only a few left to shoot as of this writing. I want this message to be a testament to my angels, models, and muses now, and in the future. They should know just how special they are. And in that spirit, I would like to thank friends and family around the world who have believed in this project and have contributed their talent, homes, time, energy, and in some cases, money to make Ikons: The Greeks possible.

Angels (in alpha-beta):  Michael Abbott, Randy Black, Regina Boratgis, Ann de Leon, Ellen Wallis DiMattea, Lise Jourgensen,  Alexander Koufidakis,  D. Michael Loveridge,  Gunnar Mo, Jayne O’Leary, Kristen Pantezelos – Noonan,  Aut Powell, Denise Sordillo Powell, Marco Primicieri, John Rivera, Craig Robinson,  Jocelyn Almy-Testa. 

Muses/Models (The Greeks): Adam (Czech Republic), Adam N. (USA), Alexander (Greece/Czech Republic), Andrea (Chile/USA), Anne (Norway), Cunyet (Turkey/USA), Denise (USA), Diane (USA), Ellis (USA/ Czech Republic), Harmony (UK/USA), Jayne (USA), Jenna (USA), Jennifer (USA), Jo (Norway), Julian (Norway), Lily (USA/ Czech Republic), Marco (Italy/ Norway), Mark (USA), Markus (Sweden/ Czech Republic), Meaghan (USA), Michael (USA), Michelle (USA/UK / Czech Republic), Nanda (USA), Neeko (USA), Olivia (USA), Sonya (Ireland/USA), Veronika (Czech Republic)

 ...and more to come.

Urban Blight and the Artist’s Plight

Transitional neighborhoods and cities are natural magnets to artists. We don’t necessarily look at them and see diamonds in the rough that will one day house fabulous cutting edge galleries, work spaces, boutiques, cafes, bars, clubs, and restaurants. What we do see is affordable living space in an urban setting that still has echoes of a once glorious past. All the aforementioned will follow with our influence, then, said places will draw the wealthy suburbanites who begin by ‘slumming’, then a pilgrimage seeking the elusive ‘cool’, and ultimately culminate by moving in and pricing us out. 

I have always lived in areas that were transitional. My first apartment was in London. During the Thatcher years, I lived on the King’s Road, which still held onto its swinging sixties roots, allowing the punk rock culture to bleed through. Hardly transitional by this time, it was an established, hip and trendy mecca. After a taste of this, and seeing how people my age at the time really lived, I moved into a squat in Southeast London and lived a truly punk rocker meets To Sir with Love lifestyle. We saved coupons to eat take out Chinese and Indian on the weekend, and lived off of pilchards and rice, baked beans on toast, and pints of Best and bags of greasy chips (fries) soaked in malt vinegar during the week.  No TV to get stuck into, we entertained ourselves by creating art, playing music, and listening to John Peel on BBC Radio. When I lived in Prague, I settled into the borough of Zizkov. Long a stronghold of the Proletariat and gypsy populations, Zizkov also housed the hip expat and hedonist communities, consisting of artists from many nations, cultures, and walks of life. It is said that there are more bars in Zizkov per square mile than in all of the Czech Republic, combined. In Boston, I lived in the now untouchable South End. In the mid-80s, this borough housed boarded-up gems of once stately brownstones with basement kitchens and maids’ quarters in the garrets. Ambitious ex-San Franciscans and Irish immigrants came in droves ripping up shag carpeting and pulling down faux wood paneling to expose treasures like working fireplaces, rustic hard wood flooring, exposed brick walls and fabulous carved detail on doors and windows. My English then-husband and I lived in a small flat with these features for a whopping 300 dollars a month (cheap by even 1980s standards). The oval parks and Victorian fountains were enough draw to help us ignore the fact that it was still a crime/gang ridden area, and there were only 3 square blocks we could walk in safety. But even then, artsy boutiques and funky collectable shops were popping up, and there were old spots like Tremont Ice Cream which offered cheap breakfasts and reminded us of the one-time glory days of the neighborhood. And yes, this was the beginning of the Boston Bistro movement which would become the Chef/Owner restaurant renaissance of the 90s. We were all artists in that neighborhood at that time…bands, visual artists, actors and poets could afford to live there. Now, we can’t even afford to breathe the air.

 Now, I have temporarily returned to my hometown of Lynn, Massachusetts. Since the 70s, and the beginning of what they called urban blight, or what I call mallification, Lynn has had a rather dodgy reputation. Everyone knows the old rhyme ‘Lynn, Lynn, city of sin, you’ll never come out the way you went in.’ Contrary to popular belief, this rhyme does not have its basis in drugs, crime, hell’s angels, or tough townie culture. It comes from Lynn’s heyday when it was a thriving industrial city filled with vibrant shops and parks, a bustling downtown, and a second string theater circuit which not only hosted Broadway touring companies, but lively vaudeville and Burlesque revues. The blue noses that descended from the North Shore Puritan population, no doubt had a hand in creating the popular little ditty in response to the passing through of the shameless fan dancers of the day.

Lynn was, during the Industrial revolution, the shoe making capitol of the world; its history still evident from exhibits at the Lynn Heritage Museum, and the fact (not urban myth) that the Lynn Common is shaped like a shoe. Up until the late 1960s, the Common continued its Victorian era tradition of Sousa – type band concerts with synchronized colored water spouting from a large stone fountain, children running everywhere with ice cream and cotton candy, the 19^th century wooden hoops replaced by day-glo shoop-shoop hula hoops.  Rich in Civil War history, High Rock Tower overlooks downtown and the harbor, its ghosts still on the lookout for Johnny Reb, and Lynn Woods is still spirited by specters of marauding pirates who have successfully protected their booty still hidden deep in Dungeon Rock to this day. The General Electric was the city’s industry in my mother’s day, bringing soldiers from far and wide coming from and going to battle in the Second World War. At that time, Lynn was still bustling, with beautiful movie and vaudeville theaters hosting big band swing concerts amidst the velvet, marble and gold guilt décor. Mixed architecture of Victorian and Art Nouveau now comingled with Art Deco, still evident by the old Bell Telephone building and the Edison Hotel, which seamlessly meld with the neoclassic Public Library, and Gothic churches dotted throughout the city. Diners, automats, fine dining restaurants, wonderful old (independently owned) department stores, furniture stores and high fashion boutiques thrived, where the owners graciously accepted lay-away plans of a dollar down/a dollar a day until payment was met. And the beach…Lynn always had the vast and picturesque King’s Beach.

Does Lynn’s history and surviving architecture sound like a magnet that would draw a struggling or working artist community? You bet it does. The colorful multicultural population and wonderful old mill and factory buildings, perfect for loft living/workspace conversion, dictates that it should be a perfect fit. However, it takes more than this to welcome former city dwellers. Lynn’s infrastructure is crumbling. Most people who have lived in Boston/Cambridge/Somerville do not own, nor can they afford cars. By relocating to Lynn they would have to depend upon a sporadic bus service, expensive, unreliable cab companies, and a commuter rail that runs hourly if you are lucky and ends its day far too early. Downtown Lynn/Union Street today is far from aesthetically inviting, and does not house the kind of businesses necessary to make the area attractive. There are no grocery stores, cafes, consignment shops, art supply stores, or bookstores. Now that the Gulu-Gulu has relocated to Salem, there is no comfort zone to hang out in or to meet like-minded people…or to get a good espresso! These are the things potential tenants and buyers look for when they relocate. The powers that be in the city seem to think that by charging top dollar for property, future residents will bring these things with them but this is not so. There needs to be something there to begin with other than just potential and ghosts from the past. 

In all the transitional areas I have lived, even before they were trendy, there was always at least one safe place to go, and grocery and clothes shopping were close at hand. There was a working tram and/or subway system that could get you anywhere at anytime, at regular intervals. These things are not luxury for the urban dweller, but necessities.

Although I plan to return to Europe, I still have nostalgic fondness for the city of Lynn and wish her well. I maintain there was no better place to grow up during the 70s, when even though in decline, Lynn still housed many record stores and clothing stores that made my teenage years worthwhile. We walked from McDonough Square to Central Square scuffing our platform shoes in search of the latest 45, eating Dairy Queen, and boy-watching those on the right side and the wrong side of the tracks. We saw concerts in the Common at all the city parks. The Cars, Heart, and local bands all played for the Summer in The City program designed to keep teens out of trouble. It worked for the most part.

Today, a group of grassroots organizers and activists are in earnest trying to build an artist’s community. One such advocate, Jocelyn AlmyTesta, is a woman with class, integrity and principle. She operates outside of the political machine and works as an artist for the artist, and presents a realistic point of view, keeping carpet baggers and opportunists on their toes. She has spearheaded this year’s Lynn Open Studios, of which I am pleased to be a part, and I hope the event draws out of towners who see the city’s potential and will invest in its future to make it a real transitional community in which anyone with paint under their fingernails would be proud to live.

I hope when I next return to Lynn, it is once again the thriving, bustling city of its heyday, and you don’t leave the way you came in…in a good way.

Welcome to My Blog!

Hello everyone, and welcome to my blog. 

On this site, you will find a variety of creative thought, from images of my visual art, to prose, poetry, opinons, and general rantings.

I am a conceptual artist. That means the idea or notion and message is the thing, and the medium changes according to the subject. I am also a writer. I have done everything from marketing to music journalism, to prose and poetry, to lyrics. My writing is stream of consciousness and it comes when it comes, as it comes.

I am currently immersed in my project Ikons, and a lot of what I will post here for awhile will be related to that. Ikons is my life's work, presenting archetypes of pagan gods for a new age to create a new dialogue on unity. If we consider who we are, where we come from, and what our purpose here on earth is, we must take the conversation to a place that encompasses beauty and wonder, mystery and epiphany, humor and horror, wonder and awe; for that is the sum and total of our lives as individuals, and as a race. By looking at these 'mythological' figures, we can see commonalities, no matter whether we are Norwegian looking at the Hellene pantheon, Greeks looking at the Norse, Irish looking at the Vedic, or Asian looking at the Celts. There is a primordial and connective energy in these stories and their archetypes, and I endeavor to present them in a modern way which infuses both ancient symbolism and postmodern aesthetic.

So I hope you will enjoy this Blog and check in with me from time to time, as well as visit my website to see images and keep up with the progress of the project. Take care and see you soon!