Posts from ‘Economy’
“Cruise” by Travis Walker
“Stability is something we all seek. That’s why we’ve built things up. You can find amazing classes to take, but carving out your own space is another story. We don’t have a central place for that, and that’s the demand.” ~ Travis Walker
Now for that cake. This interview reflects Travis Walker’s views developed from years of working independently and otherwise in Jackson’s art scene.
“The way we’ve built our arts scene, it hasn’t been community based,” says Jackson Hole artist and newest NEA grant reviewer Travis Walker. “We have a great commodity. Galleries are lined with paintings and artwork. But when we built the Center, we forgot about the cake. The cake is artists. Without them, nothing works. If you don’t have people in classes, if you can’t afford to live here, you’re not invested, and you have to move. We’re finite, and we deal with the same people.”
(Insertion: The Center for the Arts and the Art Association are two different entities. As you’ll see, Walker realizes that the expense of real estate is a heavy mantle for arts groups here. Classes represent grass roots efforts, touch countless lives, create indelible memories, and are highly formative for Jackson’s young people, as well as adults. The point is there are many currents at work; every class listing represents vast numbers of people of all ages either making, observing or leading a class.)
People of means who can afford studio space or industrious, hard-working people like John Frechette, whose business is expanding, are doing well. But real estate is a big problem, says Walker. We need to make space affordable—it’s difficult, yet very desireable to be here. The only way to attract people is to create affordable space, and now we’re back in a situation where decent space is hard to find.
Walker believes the way to start anything is to create work space.
“The Factory was a place for artists to work, the rent was cheap, and people —kids, too—could come in and see how art was made. We did have to shut down, but for reasons unrelated to this core need. We all had a common goal,” he says. “At this stage in my career I don’t need classes. But now what? Artists who know their craft like classes, but not every month. The demand for affordable studio space, though—that’s something artists pay for every month. It’s steady income for the building occupied.”
Walker is giving away his plan. Is he ok with that? Yes.
“You have to know how to approach all sorts of people, and I’m not sure that is something you can learn in school. Things change. Our Latino citizens are, as of the 2010 census, almost 30% of our population. Those kids are in my classes. It’s organic; we have to change. I’ve changed. People have not known what the hell I was doing; we were all fluctuating violently in reaction to our crashing local economy. We’re still seeing the fallout.”
Maybe THAT will change. The desire is present. Arts work together.
Jackson Hole artist, entrepreneur and mover-shaker Travis Walker spends as much time searching out opportunities to house artists as he does creating his own art. It’s a driving mission, and now Walker may have been handed, as he says, “the keys to the kingdom.”
Walker is one of only five artists in the country chosen by the National Endowment for the Arts’ (NEA) “ARTIST COMMUNITIES: Art Work” program to review, score and make in-depth comments on 56 projects submitted for NEA grant money. He has three weeks.
Walker is the “new kid on the block,” reviewing requests that could receive as much as $250,000 from the NEA, the largest arts funding group in the country. Â An incredible opportunity says Walker; these projects are the best applications from the best development teams in the country. It’s a gift to review, understand and learn from them, as well as a starting point for Walker to submit his own requests. If he were ever chosen to receive such a grant, the NEA needs to know, down to the tiniest detail, what Walker’s project would be.
“After we score all the applicants there will be a review panel held in Washington DC in June,” Walker explains. “I’ll be with senior panelists and two NEA specialists work with us. They contacted me; I did not request to be considered. The NEA must have found me on line; they were looking for someone from Wyoming, which is validating, and the NEA picks panelists they want to encourage to apply for grants themselves at a later date. Going through this process will teach me the process, I’ll learn so much about how national organizations like this one work.  If I were successful, it would be an awesome cornerstone to start building something—for the Art Lab to build something.”
It’s also important, says Walker, that NEA panelists don’t have a whiff of conflict of interest when reviewing projects, ruling out many major artist communities. (There are federal laws about that for non-profits, and you can read them—just click on that link up there.) Walker took part in a conference call with the other panelists so they could introduce themselves to one another. The call gave Walker a chance to ask questions about the system. And away they go!
Walker’s excitement is understandable.
“I have a waiting list of artists that’s so long I can barely keep track of it; and no space to give them. Right now we pay our landlord rent. We have to raise about $20K every year to balance out our rent budget,” says Walker. “Five years ago I didn’t think I’d see people pay $800 to rent studio space, let alone $300; but people are doing better jobs of trying to make their businesses work. I don’t know yet where we’d build a new space, but I know I could raise the money.
“Snow King” – Travis Walker
I think what this kind of grant does, it gives people living where studio space is difficult to afford a place to work. That takes significant public funding. Every year I have to go out and ask for grant money to subsidize these projects. What I should be doing is getting money to build something that is rent controlled; we own it. It’s an asset, we’re not paying into it every month.
If something cost, say, only a $1,000,000, a plan could go forward. I wouldn’t have to wait for a ton of public approval and appropriations. I’ll start with the cake. I notice that even with the concerts and things we’ve been doing, momentum isn’t building because we still don’t have the cake. We don’t have it built correctly yet. What’s missing is a real artists community. A place that’s only about artists studios, where they work and interact with each other, do the work they want, have time and space to do it.”
The cake. More about Walker’s take on cake soon. Â www.nea.gov
Welcome back! Â Let’s do some warm-ups.Â
It will be so interesting to see if Culture Front’s next gathering, entitled “Making It: Commercial Success in the Arts,” picks up where last month’s discussion left off. That discussion, about interpreting the West, became a forum on how to survive making art in the West.  Shari Edwy Brownfield, Natalia Duncan Macker and September Vhay are this month’s guest artists, appearing at The Rose on Wednesday, April 24th, 5:30 pm.Â
Lots of consideration, lately, of professionalism, compensation, selling work and feeling good. We love doing work we love, but in these challenging times it is so important to pay anyone for their services. Hey, it’s just good karma, an “inescapable spiritual law.” Trade can work when it fills a need; but fee compensation buys the bread. Support your supporters! Freelancers and contract workers are jumping through hoops to attain what should be instantly offered. This applies not only to artists, but to those working professionally in the fields of social media, p.r., marketing, technology, graphics, hospitality and other arenas. If you request assistance from someone and they agree to help out, offer something in return that honors their gift to you. Dinner, house-sitting, promotions, car detailing, barn raising, dishwashing, conservation duty, babysitting, art, gardening, a job reference, a title or…money.
Travis Walker, Abbie Miller, Tony Birkholz, Kelly Halpin and Todd Williams (who divides his time between NYC and Jackson Hole) presented their work and perspectives at March 27th’s Culture Front, hosted by Meg Daly. The evening was fascinating not only because of the art we viewed, but because of the ensuing conversation.
The evening’s topic was interpreting the West. How did  young contemporary Jackson artists experience what it is to live here? How are their observations and emotions materializing in their art? I, in my relatively elder-generation way, expected context—a discussion and comparisons. I wondered how the artists made the leap from absorbing Western representational history to transmitting in a contemporary manner. After Walker, Miller, Birkholz, Halpin and Williams made their presentations, Q&A commenced.
“I’d like the artists to talk about the West,” said one audience member.
I remember thinking the same thing, but I recognize that “talking about the West,” for this generation entails a different vernacular. As all new art generations do. Culture Front’s format is liquid; discussions can and do “fan out.” In more formal settings a presentation’s format is set, the program specific. Two different flows, both enriching.
Abbie Miller’s art is greatly influenced by her east coast and mid-western art schools; her talk focused on those early projects. Perhaps her most “Western” art product is her giant red vinyl piece, “Squeezed Arch,” which resembles Utah’s desert landscape. But Abbie’s roots here run deep; she is a product of our West.
For some, the West is a little short on milk and honey. It can be frightening and unexpected; buffalo are slaughtered, forests succumb to fire and invasive insects, wolves are shot and moose run over. Wildlife collides with mankind, people plummet from the peaks. Ultimately, this place is indescribably beautiful. Our involvement and caring about injustices and environmental imbalance is part of that. The West is “free” in spirit–we come here to throw off  the shackles from our early lives, from the city, from wherever. We have unmatched space, but overcoming the inevitable struggle to survive is difficult. We’re trying everything we can think of. Three local artists with arts day jobs have opened their own space elsewhere in order to bring messages from non-Western cultural centers to Jackson Hole. Artists share space and split up again.
David Brookover - Kilate - Silver Gelatin Print
Andalusian horses originated in the Spanish Iberian Peninsula Province of Andalusia, and they are an ancient, noble breed. Those knowledgable about these magnificent creatures note they have lived in that region since “pre-history,” and were depicted in cave paintings as far back as 25,000 years ago. Carthusian Monks bred Andalusians in Middle Age monasteries, and the horses became prized by royalty down through the ages. I’ve read that there are only about 8,000 Andalusians in this country; less than 30,000 world wide.
Jackson photographer David Brookover, having missed photographing horses, decided to go find some Andalusians and recommence photographing one of his favorite animals. A connection in Aiken, South Carolina, hooked him up.
“They’re royal, rare and just beautiful,” says Brookover. “Once the idea entered my mind to photograph these incredible creatures there was no letting it go. I wanted to shoot them, and make silver gelatin prints of these animals. I took “Kilate” right at the last light; I knew that with the contrast any trees would go dark. The contrast is spectacular.”
Kilate, near 19 years old, has the light coat of a mature Andalusian. Younger horses’ manes flow like rivers behind them as the animals gallop. With each year, Andalusian manes get a bit shorter, Brookover notes. Once again, Brookover captures an animal’s particular grace and essence; all visual distraction around these horses falls away. Brookover’s latest photographs can be viewed on his website, www.brookovergallery.com. Â And those Andalusians? They can be viewed here.
David Brookover - Xochimilco - Silver Gelatin Print
