The day I am writing this marks another dream realized sooner than we expected and later than we wanted. New windows are being installed tomorrow (Sept. 15). As things go, it was planned for next Tuesday, but the company had a cancellation so their top team of installers were idle, and they hoped to keep them working. So they asked, “How about Saturday?”
My head did the backstroke and butterfly simultaneously as I ran through my brain the logistics of getting things done before tomorrow. “Bring it on!” I heard myself say, and it was done. Marilyn, our assistant director, walked in at that moment, and it was all hands on deck — horns and whistles!
As things usually go, The Studio response was swift and sure. Twenty-two frames were produced, pronto, and artists responded with swift and sure action! By five o’clock the dust cleared, that song that plays in the dawn crooned, and everything was right with the world. Let the windows begin!
I want to make a special recognition to two clubs from Beaumont United High School. The Key Club and Beta Club have made an enormous commitment in working with, not only The Studio, but other arts organizations in the area as well. Last Saturday we had at least 12 young people don gloves and tools to work moving junk and packing our permanent collection to clear space for the window installers (I must have had a premonition). We worked moving rock in the parking lot, hauling trash from upstairs, packing art and disassembling wood racks, and other odds and ends at The Studio. Each time they arrive, a host of tasks no one wants to do get done. Not just done but done with smiles and laughter and a spirit of generosity that reminds us that good people rarely get press. But it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. After three hours of serious progress, we break for the just reward of pizzas for everyone. To lift their spirits further, I brought two giant bags of candy and about 15 small bags of chips, all gone in mere seconds.
They are returning later this month to help with more progress, and I look forward to not only their help but also their thoughts, conversation and friendship. These guys are not just helpers. They are what the future of The Studio will look like. Where are my shades?
Watch for our new T-shirts, koozies, bumper stickers and earplugs with our new old logo. Retro is in, and our original logo has survived the test of time. Thanks Tina Novelli. Proudly display our motto “Fresh Art Made Daily.” More new merch coming soon.
If you think Band Nite is the same as when you were a kid, think again. Gen-whatever will blow your doors with evocative and original music that defies labels. Support these originating artists as they break ground interpreting these times with sound.
Speaking of sound, we need a little help putting our new system together. Help out the bands with new speakers and overall upgrades in our system. Your contributions are tax deductible. Screw the IRS and help a worthy cause at the same time. This program has been going for more than 25 years. Keep it truckin’ for 25 more.
Had a wonderful night Sept. 12 at our annual meeting that was open to the public. Truth be known, all members are welcome to the board meetings held on the second Wednesdays of each month at 6 p.m.
Grants are how we improve major brick-and-mortar needs and improvements. Our next big grant is concerning overall roof construction on all three facilities and solar panels to help defray the cost of electricity. This a first phase of a multiphase program to expand the ceramic/sculpture facility, air condition the entire complex, open a performance space for music and theater, and more class spaces. This will happen over several years, but each phase will bring us closer to our ultimate goal.
So onward and upward. To say this year has been a series of surprises, gifts and challenges beyond my usual mundane expectations is such an overt understatement as to be considered ridiculous. Through a series of unfortunate events, Lamar University’s art department has deemed me, oxymoronically, a temporary, full time visiting adjunct, taking on four classes, two of which I’ve never taught before. Since 1991 I have served at the pleasure of the department filling in and fielding classes as needed. This year the need has erupted into an academic challenge that has taken me quite off guard and had me asking myself, “Why do they think I can do this?” But through the support of the department chair and multiple faculty members, there is a light I can follow. Honored and humbled, this is a challenge testing myself for the stuff that makes me. There is sacrifice — being missing from The Studio three days a week.
This, too, has a light of its own. She is Marilyn Tennissen, assistant director, who is fully able to handle the challenges handed to her through December. The Studio stands on sturdy feet. Life will return to some normalcy in the spring, but I truly hope deep in my heart this academic trial does not end.
Gifts are things we all enjoy. Some gifts leave us wondering if the giver loves us or does not know us at all. Stephanie Chadwick, LU professor of art history, asked the faculty, almost a year ago, to collectively write a textbook on art appreciation. Again, I asked myself, “ Why does she think I can do this?” I was charged with the chapter on ceramics and a short history of the arts organization’s impact on the proliferation of art and culture and its place in the community as a whole. I’ve never written anything near academic standards, but ultimately the chapter was done, as was the addendum, and I found myself reading the words I wrote (generously edited for continuity, syntax and grammar) and seeing a gift — a byline among noted professors. One alien to my eyes: My name. Gift.
My surprise was one to myself. The day after Summer Arts School I walked into the clay studio and began creating work for faculty and tenant exhibitions. No question that work would be complete, but what they would be was as much a surprise to me as anyone. Three weeks, 11 works, two ash urns and an umbrella stand later, I felt more relaxed, fulfilled and happy than I ever had been in a long time. Achy after stopping each night, there was never the twinge of pain in the midst of creation.
This is what our purpose is — this is the reward, the pleasure, and the raison d’être for all the work, time and effort. The warm blanket of the creative act is like a mother’s embrace.
Greg Busceme is founder and director of The Art Studio, Inc.