Get a hundred grand or so, find a building twelve stories high, fill it with the work of six hundred artists, some say a thousand, let’s say an untold number of artists, schedule a number of parties, keep it open for a month, and you have ARTOMATIC, Washington’s biennial  art funfest. It’s first come, first serve, there are no judges, juries, or curators and if you have $90 and there’s room, you’re in.

 

Click on photos to enlarge 

all photography by Mark L. Power

 

Hoofing it to Artomatic

 

So who are these artists?  Some are students, some are Sunday painters, some are emerging artists, a few are mid-career, some are battle-scarred veterans who have been knocking on the doors for years, most have day jobs. Needless to say, few have made it into the various arenas of so-called serious art. But hope spring eternal and that’s what Artomatic is: it’s a big building full of hope. 

 

Artomatic at night

 

What about the art? Blake Gopnik, the Washington Post’s art critic, had fun a few years ago as he gleefully took potshots at the fish in the barrel, saying “there’s something for everybody to hate” and “[Artomatic] is bad for art that matters”.  Clearly beside the point as this is art that matters, at least for the people who make the art and presumably for a number of the viewers too. But let’s be frank.  There’s a lot of creativity at Artomatic but not much art. Some of the work is clever, some is pretentious, some hides in the corners, a lot of it is well-crafted, and a few pieces shine with sincerity, a surprisingly rare quality in any art these days.  I don’t see much point in calling the majority of the pieces ‘bad art’; maybe it’s better just to note that most of it is creative but isn’t really art. Any human endeavor can be creative; I know some very creative carpenters and plumbers, but real art is rare, not only among the blue collar work force, but in the art galleries where presumably one encounters “art that matters”. Define art? No thanks, but I’ll say this: ‘real’ art presupposes a vision and a  group show of many image-makers tends to become exactly that: a motley collection of images, some of which if you’re lucky,  might give hints of a ‘vision’, a world view, or unworldly for that matter, on the part of the artist.

Is it reasonable to expect to find ‘vision’ at Artomatic? Not really; after all, how often do we have that transcendental experience in a year or two of tramping through the halls of haute art? The answer is not often. So we go to Artomatic to socialize, to look for potential and to celebrate hope and for me that’s enough.

 

Where it all begins

Some impressions:  Considering it was entirely staffed with volunteers, ARTOMATIC seems remarkably well organized. The bathrooms are clean, the elevators work and there are “lounges” on every floor where you can rest your aching dogs. Some of the lounges look like lounges and others seem so much like art that you look left and right before sitting down. If you’re thirsty and you will be, there are bars sprinkled throughout the buildings.  There are good views of the city on all the floors.  The circular floor layout reminded me of the Hirshhorn – turn right or left and keep walking and you end up right where you started. Nice, because you don’t have to watch where you’re going. 

Put six hundred or so artists in a space and you’d expect merry mayhem. But curiously I didn’t see that many people, or that many artists even on opening night. There was no mayhem only a sedate coasting along, now and then pausing to look at a picture. Maybe the vastness of the building contributed to this somewhat desultory feeling.  Many a gallery owner has discovered that cramming a lot of people into a tiny space creates excitement. Admittedly, I didn’t attend any of the events which might have dispelled this impression.

 

Artist Portrait Archive

Laura Seldman assisted by sculptor, Michael Gessner.

 

There a few video pieces I didn’t see, perhaps because I suffer from a mild case of videophobia, so I tend to stay out of dark rooms with fuzzy images. A woman invited me to sit in a chair and say what I liked about America. I noticed she had a video camera in her hand so I moved briskly along despite having many reasons to like America. One slogan on a wall made me anxious by saying “Art makes you age” but then the next wall attempted to comfort me by declaring the opposite: art doesn’t make you age. While trying to decide which to believe, I came across another sign that gave me hope: “ Having original art in your home is a true mark of upscale living.” I may be ageing rapidly being surrounded by so many art pieces in my home but at least I’m upscale.

 

Regarding the artwork: As usual in massive group shows there were a few pieces that were so awful they were almost good. A case in point.

 

 

Don’t touch, the sign says. Not to worry …

Niki Manavi

 

 There was serious underuse of wall space as not many people realized the wall space itself could be part of the art. The strategy of many was to cram the given space with as much work that could fit and as a result their art was hard to see. Another case in point:

 

The wall as art

Brian Potts

 

A few saw the wall space as a way of enhancing their art and too few used light to their advantage. Perhaps lighting was beyond the artists’ control as apparently there was an electrical overload problem with the building which resulted in gloomy pools of darkness here and there. 

 

Space and lighting come together

Kerri Sheehan

 

   What I liked: Painting  and occasionally drawing seemed the strongest, now and then there was photography worth a second look, and the weakest seemed to be sculpture.

   Somewhat embarrassingly, the photography I liked best was by a student in a photography class I teach at Photoworks in Glen Echo,  Matt Smith, a young man from College Park. His work may not have been the “best” photography at Artomatic but I liked it the best.

 

Matthew Smith

 

To sum up my “top ten” ( in no particular order):

 

Matt Smith: photography. Curiously radial self portraits in one plus triptych form.

Jennifer Coster: Framed baseball jerseys which have been deconstructed. Macho when seen in sport bars but here a sensitive homage to baseball and the pathos of passing time.

Janet Gohres:  Sculpture: a flock of grazing crows ignore the city outside.

Paul Walters: Somber photographs of walls rich with suggestive texture and color.

Susan Gow: Paintings, surreal and somewhat unsettling, particularly the meat fish.

Brian Lusher: Paintings, maybe velvet?: Jesus as a drag queen.

Krissy Downing: Caricatural painting of a dentist’s nightmare.

Kevin  Mitchell: Paintings, quotidian moments, well seen.

Roberta Staat: Drawings, a nice touch with pencil or pen.

Amanda Engels:   Portrait paintings.

 

Images of the ten I liked in post below, “Artomatic 08: What I Liked” 

 

Artomatic 08 at 1200 First St. NE, Washington DC, closes June 15.