KC Star Article on Collins

Nice article today in the Star about Brent Collins, and the Block install. I don’t believe the online version shows any photos of the piece, but the shots in the paper were great, and anyway it’s shown below. However they did post this Link for shots of other works by Brent. Please bear in mind, the bronzes are made from wooden forms that are all done by hand, not software.

It’s always good to see someone who has worked so hard, for so many decades, at last get his due.

Collins Completed at Block

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Finished the install for Brent Collins’ Pax Mundi at H&R Block. Photos show some of the sequence. Had to do this pup manually, hauling the piece through the lobby to get it into the courtyard, then hoisting it into place with a chain-fall, as there was no way to get hyrdraulic equipment into the plaza. Photos speak for themselves. Great crew. Brent is in the front row, center, of the celebratory shot.

This was only one of two jobs today. Beat. Home to dinner.

Prepping for Brent Collins Installation

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Spent the day making outdoor preparations for installing this graceful monster tomorrow. Complex process, all of which will have to be done manually. Because it weighs close to a ton, that will take some doing.

Titled Pax Mundi, it’s by Brent Collins. We’re installing at H&R Block. Good old Steve Reinmuth, from Reinmuth Bronze in Oregon, flew in to assist. Since he cast the freaking thing, that is much appreciated.

Bloody cold day. I’m headed home to a hot bath and an iced bourbon, a contrast that seems to make sense just now.

Young Artists at the Inaugural

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These were some of the high school artists that I juried into the Kansas Inaugural Art Exhibit. With them is Tiffany Pryor, their teacher (don’t know the fool in the back row, right). These fine young men and women all attend Highland Park in Topeka. Did they feel honored? I think their smiles speak to that.

Not only did the the punks get to sample all the gourmet that was being served, they also got to dance with the Gov. Me? I got to run the exhibit.

Anyway, they had a great time. That was the point.

Glenda Taylor and the 2007 Kansas Inaugural

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My committee and I juried in some very large works for the Inaugural, and then of course some smaller pieces, variety being one of the goals. This elegant bowl, by Glenda Taylor, says all it needs to about her level of skill and sense of design/proportion. She teaches at Washburn, whose art department I’ve yet to visit, but eventually will.

Raquetball Anchorman

Beat my 18-year-old in raquetball today. He beat me last time, so now we’re even. We deflated afterward in the sauna, and talked about how he needs to begin editing his short film. He’ll start next week; I’ll hire a grad student to help with the software, techniques, etc. Want him to really feel the sense of accomplishment this should be.

Bitter-cold, icy night. No one wants to go out. So we’ve got a house full of college students, bent on watching Anchorman. Crap. I mean I dig Will Ferrell and all, but I wanted to watch Joyeaux Noel–a French movie full of the sense of understatement that I love so much, and that so many of our films lack. Well maybe I’ll just kick the kids out–but not till after the Ferrell flick’s over. It is pretty funny.

Plenty to do later.

Friday Tips: One Gallery’s Story

I’ve excerpted this section from Chapter 6 of Living the Artist’s Life, because many artists tell me this chapter helped them understand the realities of running a gallery, and the slim profits most galleries make–assuming they make a profit (the majority don’t). So read on. If you don’t find it enlightening, it might at least prove amusing at my expense.

Chapter 6:

Before I discuss the placing of your work in the galleries, it would be useful for you to know a little about what it takes to run one. Why? Because the more you know about the realities of the art world, the better you’ll understand how you might fit in. The story I’m about to tell you is, like most of what I’ve written, quite candid. But I often find that the deeper sorts of understanding spring from candor, and, as I’m sure you’ve already deduced, this book is as much about understanding as it is about art.

One Gallery’s Story
At the time I decided to open a gallery, in 1993, I was living in Lawrence, Kansas: home to the University of Kansas, to William Burroughs (when he was still alive), to Jayhawk basketball, and thousands of college students. In Lawrence—a town that is very much alive—there is a band in nearly every bar, and an artist on nearly every corner. In other words, it’s like most college towns.

After two years of running an art business out of my home, I realized I’d have to open a proper gallery in order to succeed. The problem was, I knew nothing about running a gallery. Neither did my artists, but they were very excited about the prospect, and most were certain that we’d make buckets of money.

My decision had been brought on by the fact that, the year before, I’d landed a major commission from G.E. Aircraft Engines, who had ordered twenty bronzes by Jim Brothers, my lead bronze sculptor. Achieving this, between my obligations as novelist, father, and owner of a small tree service, had been very demanding, but the benefits were profound. After casting expenses, which naturally we’d underestimated, Jim and I realized a reasonable but hardly earth-shaking profit.

My share was quickly eroded by debt, taxes, the cost of raising children, and marketing expenses. Also a week in Colorado with my family. Afterward I had $10,000 left—enough, I convinced myself, to open a gallery and begin my climb toward prosperity.

Jim Brothers, who had been sculpting and starving for thirty years by then, advised me against it. He’d seen countless galleries go down in flames, and although he was enjoying our initial success, his pleasure didn’t override his skepticism. He warned me that while people do need clothes, food and shelter, nobody needs art. He knew the odds I’d be up against, especially opening in the Midwest, and didn’t want to see me go broke. His advice was to keep cutting trees, and keep selling art out of my house.

I thanked him for the advice, but all my instincts told me I had to move on. They also told me that somehow things would work out, and that I would be guided through all of it, if I could just stay in tune with my intuition. I trusted that I would.

My wife trusted the same when I told her my plan. She wasn’t sure if a mere $10,000 would be enough to open a gallery (it wasn’t), but she believed that somehow we’d make things work. Even so, there was no way I was going to open a gallery in a town of only 90,000 people. We knew we’d have to move to Kansas City, a town of over a million, if we were to stand even the remotest chance of succeeding.

So in short order I found a space, we sold the house in Lawrence, bought the one in Kansas City, and the entire adventure—although some might call it a nightmare—began. If I’d known what lay in wait for me, I’m sure I would have stayed in the tree business, trusting that eventually my novels would find their way into print, and we’d all move to Tuscany. Looking back, I guess it’s a good thing it didn’t work out that way. My job was here–at least for now…

AP Story / Patrick Martin and the 2007 Kansas Inaugural / Provincials

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Patrick Martin, Nails, Cast Glass

Patrick Martin runs the best glass program in the state. This, apart from his own brilliant work, is one reason we juried him into the Exhibition. What? Hot glass shops in KS? Sure. It ain’t no Seattle, but it is itself. Patrick’s work tells part of that story.

The Associated Press did an article on the whole gig. Very nice of them.

So dig it all you provincials: Midwest, Deep South, Southeast, etc. Your work, and your regions, are as sophisticated as you make them. If we believe NY is the ultimate destination, then it will remain so, and the vast majority of you artists frozen out. Far better to throw some rich guys through the door, and let them finance the flourishing of art in your region. Modern-day Medicis. Great: they’ll enjoy the participation, and you’ll enjoy the result. So will the generations coming after you.

Inauguration Gala

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Final night of Governor Sebelius’ Inauguration yesterday. 3000 people, and good portion of them came through the art exhibit. Tuxes and gowns elbow-to-elbow all freaking night. They were blown away, as we’d intended. Well, I think you can safely say we helped put a new face on the Kansas art scene–or at least helped win it broader recognition. It was an honor to work with such great talent, and such a dedicated committee.

Much to discuss about this, and how it applies nationally, but not now. Exhausted. Heading for the pool: 20 laps, a half-hour in the sauna, then home. Then nothin.