VISUAL DIARY: ART MOVE, PART 4

VISUAL DIARY: ART MOVE, PART 3

Getting ready to go through the Lincoln Tunnel. Somebody hold the toll ticket and read the signs!

Here we go! I love that this tunnel has the New York skyline relief detailing.

Things you didn't see before this picture happened: inching down 42nd St. Me almost getting pinned in the rearmost corner of a freight elevator. A lot of sweat. Perilous parking in tight spaces. It was a relief to have the painting arrive unscathed and a thrill to be in this conservation room.

Our art moving schedule. My job for the day was to meet the truck at different stops and serve as a satellite art mover, if needed, and lunch runner. I did both. After grabbing a power lunch for 3 hungry men (and me), I took a 30 minute cab ride uptown to grab two drawings while the rest of the crew was still packing the truck in Chelsea. Did I also mention that this day was the Friday of Fashion week?

After a long day, a near-death experience with a crate and a lift gate, sweat, and two new silver dollar-sized blisters, I limped up to the High Line, and sat for a minute while I finished the rest of my water.

MISCONCEPTIONS

What the Nordstrom's catalog thinks my job is really like.

Got my sensible, flat shoes on for this hard day of truck unpacking. Hope I don't get anything on my pants! Too bad about our lift gate breaking. I'm glad I came up with this ingenious pulley plan using eye hooks and rope!

What's with all this excelsior? I used to think that nothing could say "Hi, I'm a huge jerk." better than foam peanuts, but this might be it.  It's what soaps and candles are packed in a Pier One to say, "Ooh, I'm from an exotic and far-away place. Buy me. So unique."

This sculpture could use a little premature oxidation from my hands. I made sure to slather them with my Lancome moisturizer this morning.

Now this is just plain stupid. If she falls and whacks her noggin, my dad would just say, "Thin the herd." ***

In case you can't tell, I've never been big on the "glamorization of the gallery worker" trend.  It gave rise to a new word,  and a terrible TV show. While I do wish that sometimes I could look like this at work, I think this sort of imagery driven by fashion trends and pop culture is belittling to the profession -- the amount of hard, sometimes extremely physical work that goes into putting on an exhibition and the education, internships, and years of networking gets overlooked.

However, my one, true love of print journalism (The New York Times) does a great job talking about the frostiness and sharp dressing of these women as well as their brains.

***This, on the other hand, is fun.

VISUAL DIARY: ART MOVE, PART 2

VISUAL DIARY: ART MOVE, PART 1

A few weeks ago,  I got paid to go to New York. All I had to do was ride in a truck, help move a painting up there, and pick up a lot  of drawings to bring back for an exhibit in the gallery. No sweat, right? Well. Maybe a little sweat. In the spirit of the drawing show we picked up, I've done some sketches about the experience of making a long haul art move. Four days on the road left me with a tight neck muscle, some huge blisters, and a bruised arm from where a crate fell on me. (Don't worry mom. The art was ok.) However, all the art arrived safely, it looks great, and it only took two days to recover from the trip fatigue and my New York Chinatown binge eating. I met some great people and saw some good art. Enjoy the first batch of drawings.

How many people does it take to carry a 300 lb. 8' x 10' painting down a flight of stairs? The answer is 4. Due to construction, and some new front doors on the building, this became Plan A.

Whatever it takes for the sake of the art sometimes actually means, "Three people on a bench seat for 12 hours. Nobody order beans at the Cracker Barrel, OK?"

One of the big issues with driving a truck to New York is driving the truck in New York. It's not that it's just a pain to navigate something larger, but there are entire streets and parkways that you are not allowed to drive on. Not to mention, the ever-nagging worry of, "Will we fit under that......" Street truck parking, even if it is illegal, is golden if you are trying to make deliveries. I had a caterer try to sweet talk me into moving ours around the block so he could take our space to get closer to the building to make his delivery. He told me he thinks it's hot when women drive big trucks. That may have been true, but I wasn't about to aimlessly cruise down Central Park West just so he could get some cream puffs into an elevator.

Stay tuned....