Slightly Off Center

The roar of the crowd!

I always forget how loud opening night of Clay Fest is. There's a long line waiting when we open the doors, and in no time, it's shoulder to shoulder. Word has gotten out that the best selection goes to those who arrive early, I guess. And any concern that not having the Home Show next door this year (they cravenly changed weekends to avoid the Oregon/Ohio State game on Saturday night) will affect our crowds is, at least temporarily, assuaged.

Had a few hiccups on the way to opening. The Fire Marshall's inspection didn't find anything wrong with the electrical in peoples' booths, but decided to be shirty about fire exits. In the past, we've gotten away with five--two in the front, two across the hall on either side of Demo, and one on the south end at Kid's Clay. Last year, they decided we needed to leave the north exit open as well, losing us a couple of booths. This year, against all precedent, the two doors behind the Demo stage needed to be available as well, which entailed taking down the pipe and drape and moving the stage forward six feet, losing us a row of seats for viewers. Frustrating, but a bunch of guys pitched in and we managed the change before the five o'clock opening.

Lots of vaguely familiar faces from previous years, including this lady who comes down from Portland every year. Used to see her at Showcase, but don't do that show anymore. She's staying overnight, so I gave her directions to Saturday Market tomorrow. 

Was talking to a college-age guy, asked him How long have you been doing pottery? He looked surprised until I pointed to the clay spatters on his jeans. He's been at it two years, throwing at the Craft Center. A couple of other Craft Center potters--also clay spattered, they must have come straight over--stopped in to talk process later. Charlie was particularly pleased to hear of my long association with the place, and recent visiting artist spot. Apparently their current Resident Potter has just left, and he was angling for me to come back. You're way more chill than she was, he said, which I guess is a compliment? I explained that these days, every hour teaching cost me hundreds of dollars in studio production. Maybe after I retire...

Had a couple of nice pots sniped by other potters before the show opened, an otter pie plate and sloth dessert. We're permitted by our rules to buy direct from each other without going through Central Sales, discounting the show commission, although both insisted on paying fullish price. Sold more dessert plates after opening, though no dinners yet. Also mugs, bowls, a stew mug. But I also sold some big pieces: two squared bakers, a mixing crock, tool crock, large batter bowl, and, the surprise of the night, the big oval platter with the barn owl pattern.

Show opens at 10 today, so I'm up early packing lunch and posting here on Denise's laptop. (Mine is still at the show to produce award certificates.) Going to swing by Farmers Market on my way in. Denise will join me at lunch time to cover my booth for my 1 pm sales shift with the dreaded Bar Code Scanner. 

Wish me luck!

We got to the gallery around 2:30, got shown the break room, class room and of course the gallery itself. They did an admirable job with the display, Denise's paper on one wall, books on a series of shelves opposite, pots on pedestals in between. I'd sent four themed dinner sets, but they broke them up and did a mix and match arrangement, which I think worked better. A few things had already sold, red dots on a hummingbird small baking dish and one of Denise's journals. (The university gallery doesn't handle sales themselves, but collects and organizes contacts for me to follow up on after we get home.)

I did a walk-through to take some video for Instagram, stole a cookie from the refreshments table, and settled down to wait for 4 o'clock. (For a value of "settled" equal to "pacing nervously back and forth.")

Just after four, the first guests arrived, a couple our age. You don't remember me, do you? asked the women. Turned out we were pottery students together, back in the day. Pat and I lost touch when I went out to Oregon, but I remembered her married name--something of a miracle, names and I don't usually stick--and met her husband, Frank.

And then the students arrived, and we were too busy to do much more than ride the flood. There was a crowd of them, sketching their favorite pieces--I assume a class assignment--and asking questions. Good questions. (Not one asked "How long does take to make this?)

It was Why did you decide to paint animals? and How do you choose what to paint? and Do you have a favorite animal?

One young man asked How do you decide when to try selling your work? (Short answer: when there's no room for pots in the garage anymore.) Denise was similarly besieged with questions about books and paper.

And then more old college friends started arriving. Char and Barbara down from south Minneapolis. Bessie still here in La Crosse. A vaguely familiar-looking trio turned out to be Sheila (who got a postcard, because we exchange Christmas cards) and mutual friends Cindy and Kelly, who happened to be visiting her last week. (I think they drove up from Madison?) My high school classmate Nancy and her niece drove across the state from Kaukauna.

Three of my college professors showed up: Tim, the potter, Diane, the watercolorist, and Larry, my math prof, who arrived with a koala clipped to his collar. My buddy and music partner Hans and wife Carol arrived and reconnected with musician Char and publicity staffer Randy, who also happens to play bass in local bands.

My sister, Maggie, arrived early from Minneapolis, and brought her mother-in-law Carol. My brother, David, and wife Charlotte drove over from Milwaukee. Neither had seen the other since our wedding, I think, due to a family split, and I nervously awaited an explosion. None came, thankfully, but rather a tearful reunion. 

Last through the doors were my niece Emma and two buddies from Winona State. Total tally: six college friends (seven, counting the Art department head, Sherri), three professors, two siblings, one niece, a high school classmate, and I dunno, two or three dozen students? It was an amazing time, my head is still buzzing, and I totally forgot to take pictures till nearly the end of the party.

Incidentally? There were a lot more red dots by the end of the evening.