Artomatic 2009

The first weekend of June was a busy one for us, and we kicked it off by going to the opening night of Artomatic. This was the first time I’d been to an Artomatic in a new building, and it was a bit odd. The two I’d previously attended had been in buildings that were about to be torn down, which made the whole experience kind of spooky and reminiscent of unauthorized versions of these events that people I knew used to have in abandoned factories and warehouses in Philly in the mid-90’s. This time around, we took the elevator to the ninth floor and had panoramic views of the mall.

Our first stop was to see our friend Todd’s work—conveniently located on the ninth floor, meshing well with our plan to ride up and walk down. After spending some time stalking him in order to congratulate him on his pieces, we wandered over to the robot drawing area, easily identifiable by the many young children crowded around the tables. As promised, the robots we drew on postcards and submitted to the RobotDisorder folks are now part of an Artomatic poster! (Mine is sixth from the left in the top row and my partner’s is fifth from the left in the second row down.)


Our robots.

While little can compare to getting to draw your own robot, there were several other displays that I particularly liked. I was sorely tempted to purchase an insect with spatula wings, but I couldn’t think of a suitable place to display it. Now that the living room is painted, I’m tempted to go back for one for the unoccupied end of the mantle. Another favorite was the work of Novie Trump, an artist who lives nearby and whose work I’d seen at an Artomatic preview show that Todd took us to inauguration weekend. Her forms are lovely, and she has an excellent ability to mix texture and color in her use of clay; I find her small works melancholy and yet alive. Although I wasn’t moved by all of his pieces, Rick Braswell had a beautiful photograph of an Italian piazza that I could have stood and looked at all night.

The beauty of Artomatic is that there’s truly something for everyone: my partner spent much time with the action figure dioramas of one group of Frederick artists and the comic strips of another, ending the evening by getting his photo taken with the lifesize peep. I wandered down to the PostSecret area, joining the crowd in looking through a pile of actual postcards, but wasn’t brave enough to be recorded as part of the video project even if I could have come up with a secret on the spot.

Since we’re old now, we only got through three floors before it was way past our bedtime. Our plan is to return next before the end of the show, but the weekends are filling up quickly. The beauty of Artomatic is that there’s always more art to be seen.

Artomatic 2009

vacation : North Carolina

We took two days to drive home from Hilton Head, stopping in Raleigh and spending the night at the Oakwood Inn. The Inn was (apparently) the first bed and breakfast in the city, and is located in the historic Oakwood neighborhood. The neighborhood has its own very nicely published walking tour guide to the homes, and we enjoyed reading about the places we passed when we hoofed it to and from dinner. Raleigh is not that big; we were planning to take the new circulator bus back to the Inn later in the evening, but just ended up walking everywhere. Years in Ann Arbor and DC without a car, where we regularly walked several miles a night when we went out, trained us well.

Our choice for dinner was The Raleigh Times, a local bar that’s located in the former offices of one of Raleigh’s now-defunct newspapers. It was spacious, well-designed, and played good music. Also, the guacamole and sangria was just as good as I’d been told it would be, which is always nice. We hung out there for a while, and then headed over to check out the live jazz place (the name of which I forget). Sadly, the band wasn’t going on for another hour—it was Saturday night, after all—and we weren’t up for making a night of it, even with the Irish bar right next door. Honestly, the live act at the Irish bar was a little off-putting: I’m sure they were a fine band, but their attempts to turn ‘Whiskey In a Jar’ into a sing-a-long about tequila were not what we were looking for. Instead, we walked back, past the statehouse and the Governor’s mansion, and stood under the streetlights to read the descriptions of houses we found interesting. We happened to be there on the weekend of the annual garden tour, so everyone’s yards and porches were looking particularly spiffy.

Before leaving Raleigh we were hoping to visit the Seagrove Pottery shop, however the hours didn’t work out. We did peer in the window and admire the lovely large pitchers and bowls; in terms of our vacation budget, it’s probably best they weren’t open. (Ditto with the totally funky bag shop in downtown Raleigh.) From there, we headed north on local roads so that my partner could get a sense of my experience riding my bike from Raleigh to DC six years ago. The plan was to stop for lunch in Warrenton, the town that threw the AIDS riders a welcome party at the end of our first day. Although I wasn’t able to recreate the route exactly, we had fun, and we did get lunch as planned. Warrenton was as I remembered it; everyone was perfectly friendly, although we felt a bit out of place in our casual traveling outfits as everyone was kitted out in their church outfits. In the end, we ate at the more casual Italian restaurant, taking half of our meals home to have for dinner. In Warrenton, we experienced one of the more surreal elements of town squares in the South, the Confederate War memorials. Nearly every town of any size has one (Raleigh did), but not necessarily a memorial for any other wars. (And, yes, it’s true that many towns in northern states have Civil War memorials, and it’s also true that in the end all of those dead soldiers were of the same nation. Maybe I’ll feel better about it when we have a national African-American history museum and/or a monument to the slave dead. Recognition of the existing African-American Civil War Memorial, right around the corner from where we used to live in DC, would be a great start.) All that being said, the fact that North Carolina voters chose both Kay Hagan and the prez went a long way toward our greater ease there than in rural South Carolina (where mostly we saw signs protesting incorporation of county land into towns and bumper stickers encouraging tax resistance evasion).

From Warrenton, we bid the Carolinas goodbye, hopped on the highway, and cruised home. Well, we didn’t exactly cruise; we got back off the highway and toodled half of the way through Virginia on Route 1 because it was moving more quickly. (Wow, Virginia! Your traffic is nuts! So glad I don’t live there!) They say the sign of a good vacation is when you’re happy to go and happy to return, and we were certainly both.

vacation : North Carolina

vacation : Hilton Head Guest Services

The one blight on our trip to Hilton Head was our experience with the timeshare hawkers, Hilton Head Guest Services. On the surface, it seems like not such a bad trade-off: you sit through a presentation about their timeshare system (they’re a participant in the RCI program) and they give you some coupons and gift certificates. If it had worked that way, it would have been fine. The way it did work—a presentation twice as long as we were promised, fees for things that were supposed to be free, misprinted fliers advertising things that didn’t exist—wasn’t worth the time or aggravation.

They caught us after breakfast on the first day, as we were looking for a map of the island. We were told by Chris that we’d listen to a 90 minute presentation (all that’s allowed by law in South Carolina, although we weren’t told that part) which would consist of walking around outside and getting a tour of the resort where the timeshares were located (‘You won’t be inside, you’ll be out in a beautiful area by the beach,’ Chris claimed). In exchange for our time, we’d receive a free boat ride over to Daufuskie Island, a guided tour of the historic sites, and lunch (a package categorized by Chris as having a value of $120) and an additional $50 of gift certificates that could be used at participating restaurants. We were also told to call him on his cell phone if anything went wrong, which we definitely would have done later in the week had he not written the number on the paper that (he no doubt knew) was going to be taken from us at the presentation. Bad form, Chris! To Chris’s credit, he also told us to record our income as only in the lowest bracket, a piece of advice that I forgot to take and which might have steered us away from the aggressive, patronizing, and three-hour long hard sell, which we experienced while sitting inside at a little table in a freezing room. But I get ahead of myself.

In order to get the presentation out of the way, we went at noon that day. When we showed up, there were lots of other people. Instead of being taken to the resort and being presented with the information in a group, as Chris had laid it out, we were taken into a room full of tables and subjected to a one-on-one with Robert. Robert is no doubt a decent salesperson, but he’s not a very good listener. We got off on the wrong foot from the beginning, but Robert had no clue. To wit, our first exchange was this:

Robert: I’m confused here, it says you’re married but your last names are different, what’s that about?
Me: Feminism.
Robert: [blank stare]
Me: You know, that thing that happened in the 70s? [big smile]
Robert: [nervous chuckling]

Honestly, the information in the presentation was pretty interesting. We learned a lot about the new system of points and credits and moving around from place to place that is the structure of RCI’s program. I can see how that approach would be more appealing to people than a single week timeshare in the same place, especially if you can only afford an undesirable week. Having never considered vacation timeshares, it was informative. Sadly, the information was drowned out by the song and dance of the sales pitch. The approach of the pitch, no doubt standard in this business, was to (1) attempt to determine how much we spend each year on vacations, and assume we’re going to spend that much in future years; (2) assume that those expenditures exist outside of, and do not take away from, other expenses such as repairing our house; (3) tell us we’re dumb if we continue to spend that money on vacations in the future without getting any property out of it; and then (4) offer to sell us a timeshare coincidentally priced at the point that we’re already spending. You might imagine that this didn’t go down too well with us. To be fair to Robert’s efforts, we’re not really his target audience. We don’t spend money on vacations, we spend money on visiting our family. This was the first vacation we’d taken in four years, it was functionally our honeymoon, and we never would have rented a timeshare on Hilton Head if we hadn’t had an extremely preisgünstig opportunity come along. Also, we are not terribly susceptible to salespeople telling us they understand our financial situation better than we do and we’re stupid if we don’t buy into their plan; maybe other people are more afraid of missing out if they didn’t Act Now To Take Advantage Of This Limited Time Opportunity! That’s not really our weak point; we trend more to the Fools Rush In camp, at least with this kind of thing.

Once Robert laid out the whole shebang, he took us over to see the condo where we’d ostensibly be buying our week, all the while emphasizing that we never actually had to stay there, we could spend our credits on going other places. In the model presented, the assumption was always that you’d be traveling at the last minute, so you’d be able to go all these fabulous places for less than their full market value, which would be so much better than your lame off-season week in Hilton Head which was all you could afford to buy into. Of course, you might wonder why you would want to be traveling to luxury resorts during time periods when no one else wanted to be there (thus enabling you to snap up an opening at the last minute); it would seem that the people who were attracted to this plan for the chance to rub elbows with the rich and famous at locales around the world would be sorely disappointed. It’s not like buying into a cheap off-season week in Hilton Head puts you in a category to be able to get into peak weeks in Aspen (for example). And, you not using the actual week you purchased means that the local resort (Coral Resorts) can rent your week to someone else, assuming there’s someone else who wants to be on the beach in January (some poor sucker who bought into a winter week on Cape Cod, maybe). Which is not to say that you can’t make this program work, more that the scenario they were spinning—buy an undesirable week here and parlay it into better vacations in other places—seemed like the exception rather than the rule. Also, it’s not clear to us whether credits from each year can be saved and used in future years: Robert said they could, other sources online say they can’t. If they can’t, you definitely aren’t ever going to be able to go anywhere other than other off-season locales.

On top of all of this, the price structure is heavy on the fees, making the upfront property investment not representative of what you pay. The investment we were quoted was about 9k for a week every other year, with a $900 fee in the years that we actually have the week, whether we use the week on Hilton Head or not. Then, there’s a fee to be a member of RCI; my partner and I have different memories of what this is, whether it’s a one time joining fee or an annual fee to receive their guide of participating resorts. If you want to trade in the week you’ve bought for other vacations, you give up your week in Hilton Head and then pay several hundred dollars ($200-$300) for the week in whatever other place you choose. If you want to, you can pay another fee and enroll in a partner program that offers discounts on airfare. Finally, all of this is yours for the low investment financing rate of 15%. You can imagine my reaction to that number! Let me recount it for you:

Robert: And, you don’t even need to get financing, we’ll provide it for you at 14.9%!
Me: 15%? Are you kidding? Surely some people qualify for a lower rate?
Robert: Well, you’re certainly free to use a home equity loan or something like that if you don’t want to take our financing.
Me: Because I cancel my credit cards when they jack my rate to 15%. That’s nuts, why would I take that?
Robert: [nervous chuckling]

In the end, we finally convinced Robert that we weren’t buying anything from him, realized that it had been three hours, and hightailed it out of there. Which brings us to the final chapter of this tale of woe, our botched attempts to use the fabulous prizes we’d earned by listening to someone tell us for three hours that we were stupid if we continued the way we were going. First, we learned that the 10% discount card could not be used in combination with the gift certificates. Second, we rode our bikes down to the Coligny Bakery intending to get lunch (advertised in the brochure as croissant and bagel sandwiches, which sounded nice) only to discover that they don’t sell lunch sandwiches. During that bike ride we were assailed by not one but two different people trying to get us to take the timeshare ‘tour’, the second of whom was shocked (shocked!) that the bakery didn’t offer lunch sandwiches, because she’d had breakfast sandwiches there. Uh huh. Over the course of the next few days we did use our gift certificates for two meals, lunch at the Hilton Head Diner (outside of which a third person was all ‘oh, too bad, I wish I’d been the one to sign you up for your tour’ and I was all ‘no you don’t, it was hellish, be glad you weren’t the one responsible for it’) and dinner at a Mexican place that was our third choice after our first and second choices weren’t open in the evening. In the end, the gift certificates worked out okay, providing us with a couple of extra meals as an alternative to cooking at home.

By far the most frustrating part of the whole experience, however, was trying to use the Daufuskie Island package. I am sure that it made me as bitter as it did because I was really looking forward to it: Daufuskie Island has a number of historic churches, schools, and houses, as well as an old black cemetery and several artist studios. So, I called right away to make a reservation for the Thursday boat, which is where things began to go wrong. First, the ferry was not free, as Chris told us it would be, but cost $16 per person. This $16 arguably covered tips, taxes, and fees, but I can’t imagine what the cost of the ferry ride would be without the credit, honestly. Because I wanted to make the 12pm guided tour listed on the ticket, in order to catch the 2:30pm boat back to Hilton Head, we went on the 9:30am boat. The boat ride was pleasant enough, barring the elderly lady from Massachusetts who kept punching me in the arm to get my attention: we saw birds and dolphins and it was a beautiful clear day. Once we arrived on the island, we went to check in for the tour, intending to look around a bit beforehand. Which is when we learned that in fact there was no longer a 12pm tour, only a 1:30pm tour. I believe the response was something like, ‘Yes, we know the tickets are wrong, it just costs a lot to reprint them.’ Because I was trying to be a good sport about all of this and salvage some of the day from going down the drain, I regrouped and decided that we would walk down to whatever historic sites were nearby, come back up for lunch, and then go on the 1:30pm guided tour. I learned from the woman at the desk, another HHGS employee, that the cemetery, schoolhouse, and local history museum were all within walking distance, and we set out with our map.

We made it to the cemetery with little trouble, and that was neat. Then we set out for the historic buildings. Our walk made me appreciate the journey the kids made to and from school each day in Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. It was hot. It was buggy. It was dusty. There was not another soul around, except for the maintenance guys who passed us in their trucks as they went to and from their jobs in the gated communities that were somewhere ahead of us out of sight. We slogged along; we hitched a ride up the road with one of the pairs of guys in a truck when I couldn’t take it anymore. And, when we finally did get to the buildings (the museum was a set of displays housed inside an historic church), we learned that they didn’t open until 1pm, something the woman who gave me the map didn’t see fit to mention. There was some cursing and railing and shaking our fists at the sky, and then we walked back. At that point, we were beginning to get a little sick of being on the island, and we decided to assess our options. We could rent golf carts for $50 for two hours (no partial time periods allowed) or we could wait until the 1:30pm tour, missing the 2:30pm boat and not being able to return to Hilton Head until the 5:15pm ferry. Neither of these options were ideal: I believe my phrases were ‘I’m not giving these $#^%#!s any more of my money!’ and ‘I’m not staying on this godforsaken island until 5pm!’. In the end, we decided to cut our losses, eat our free lunch (fish sandwich, chips, and a soda), and hop on the 12:30pm boat back. While I regret not learning more of the rich history of the island, leaving when we did was definitely the right choice. One of our fellow travelers who had chosen to rent a golf cart told us on the ferry ride back that none of the galleries were open yet because it was still the off-season, another useful piece of information the woman at the desk had neglected to share when I specifically asked her about the art studios and she told me ‘I believe the tour stops at one of them, but I’m not sure which.’ I think my head would have popped off if I’d either spent $50 to travel to the other part of the island or stuck it out until the tour only to discover that one of the main attractions in this whole escapade was closed.

The upshot: don’t waste your time on this. Or, if you are going to waste your time on this, don’t get the Daufuskie Island package as your prize. Instead, hold out for more cash in hand. And, wear a watch. Apparently at 90 minutes you can walk out and insist on your compensation even if the pitch hasn’t been completed. Probably we should have taken Chris’s advice and placed ourselves in the lowest income category; that one was my bad. The icing on the cake of all of this was that the check we received, our refund of the $20 we paid in cash upfront to ensure that we’d come back for the presentation, wasn’t actually signed. We didn’t notice this until we got home; I didn’t inspect the check beyond making sure the amount and the name were correct, since we wouldn’t be depositing it there. As far as we know, our credit union accepted it. However, I strongly recommend getting someone to actually sign the thing while you’re down there, just in case your bank isn’t as amenable.

I realize that we wouldn’t have nearly as many stories from our trip if we’d followed our original plan and gone to the visitors’ center in the Coastal Discovery Museum to get a map; I suppose that’s worth something.

vacation : Hilton Head Guest Services

see you at the Kennedy Center, Mr. President

Tonight we’re seeing Swan Lake performed by the American Ballet Theater at the Kennedy Center. Will you join us, Mr. Obama?

I was heartened to see that President Obama took his family to see the recent Alvin Ailey production and actually made use of the reserved presidential box at the Kennedy Center. I love Alvin Ailey performances, and remember how rewarding it was to share that experience with my partner for the first time. I can only imagine how much more enjoyable it would be to watch the reactions of your children to such an amazing and historic performance. Attending theater, dance, and musical performances with my parents was something I always loved as a child, even — especially — when I had no idea what to expect. That sense of surprise and wonder is something I retain; I am always happy to see new companies or performances and find it very easy to accept anything that is presented to me with good humor, much more so than with the arts than with the vagaries of life.

So, while I’m certainly personally interested in being in the same audience as the President and believe that Swan Lake, I hope the Obamas will decide to attend for the sake of the performance itself. And maybe afterwards, we can go out for coffee and talk about it.

see you at the Kennedy Center, Mr. President

A December sampling of arts in DC

December is always busy for us, and this year is no exception. If anything, our choice to celebrate the season by attending performances of various kinds has heightened the schedule-juggling.

Our first event of the month was The Trumpet of the Swan, a reading of the book set to music that debuted at the Kennedy Center. The Trumpet of the Swan is one of my favorite books, and the actors and musicians did an excellent job of portraying it. I was excited to be able to see Kathy Bates and Fred Willard, and Washington local Edward Gero was perfect as Louis’s father. Attending this performance was my (early) birthday present, and I was glad to be able to share it with my partner, who had never read the book as a child.

The following Tuesday, we returned to the Kennedy Center to see the Martha Graham Dance Company perform Clytemnestra. Although I’ve seen many of the great modern dance companies perform at the Kennedy Center in recent years, I had yet to see a Martha Graham production. While I began to suspect that her version of Clytemnestra is something like the Ring Cycle of modern dance—by which I mean to say that we may not have risen to the level of knowledge or appreciation of other members of the audience—we were both fascinated. I found it particularly interesting given that it was first produced in 1958; I commented to my partner that you would have had to be terribly fashionable to attend this performance in its first run, as it was somewhat avant garde even for contemporary productions. The costumes and choreography were wonderful, and of course the dancing was superb. And now we can say that we’ve seen a show created by the mother of modern dance!

Following close on the heels of this performance, we went traditional on Friday and attended a reception at the Swedish embassy celebrating Santa Lucia Day. A highlight of the evening was Mats Carlsson, a ‘rather well-known up-and-coming Swedish opera singer’ as we were told by one of our fellow guests, joining the girls for a lovely solo. Our hosts were very gracious, the hors d’ouevres were excellent, and the Glögg was wonderfully potent. Maybe next year we’ll get invited to the gala and I’ll have a chance to wear my wedding necklace! (A girl can dream.)

The next night we headed back down to Foggy Bottom to see the Christmas Revels at GWU. We don’t go every year, but this year’s program had a French-Canadian theme that I just couldn’t pass up. We had a wonderful time; there’s something about being knee to knee and elbow to elbow with strangers while belting out holiday tunes that creates an incredibly festive atmosphere. The evening had the added bonus of exposing my partner, who never studied French in school, to the joys of Alouette, complete with popping out of our seats to point at the various body parts as they became relevant (et le bec!). We particularly enjoyed the operatic flourish with which the young child a few rows in front of us bowed at the completion of the last round of the song.

We wrapped up all of this celebrating by hosting our now-annual holiday cookie party on Sunday night. It’s always fun to sample the variety of confections, and this year was no exception. We had quite a mix of styles and cultural origins this year, with a nice representation of classics in the form of chocolate chip, oatmeal, and sugar as well. Word of a party with nearly unlimited access to sweets appears to have gotten out among the under-8 crowd, and the children-to-adult ratio tilted quite dramatically this year. We are pleased to report that our friends, colleagues and neighbors are doing exceptionally well at instilling manners in their (many) young offspring; our household fabrics thank you, and you and yours are welcome back any time! In addition to being just a general good time, the party spurred us to finally deal with all of the furniture and household goods displaced through various acquisitions and basement trouble this year. After a whirlwind of preparation, it’s wonderful to look around and see shelves, tables, and sideboards in their proper places, and to have boxes of our family treasures stored in tidy piles in the (clean!) attic rather than in the center of our offices. It certainly doesn’t hurt to have tins of cookies on those tables, either.

Our plans for the coming week are quite tame compared to all of this. We’ll be celebrating the solstice with our gift exchange on Sunday, and I have a couple of surprises planned as part of our weekend festivities. (They’re surprises; you will have to wait to learn of them.) In the meantime, I will enjoy quiet evenings that involve neither dressing up nor rearranging furniture.

A December sampling of arts in DC