ArtSake

You’re strolling around your city, and you see this cartoon-inspired painting.

Then you see the attached note saying the painting is free, with one catch. So you take the painting, follow its instructions, and with that… you’ve joined Bren Bataclan’s Smile Boston Project.

We asked Bren Bataclan, a street artist like no other, to guest post and describe his effort to use his paintings to lift the corners of a few mouths in cities across the map.

This month marks the fifth year anniversary of Smile Boston Project. I still can’t believe that I am now painting full-time and that the street art project is now global. When I first started in the fall of 2003, I thought that my project would last for just a couple of weeks.

I began painting these cartoon characters that I have been drawing since I was a kid back in the Philippines during the summer of 2003. Back then I was one of those unemployed ex-dotcommers affected by the economic crash (that was nothing in comparison to today’s crisis). I had plenty of time that summer to get to know my childhood imaginary friends again and explore painting them on canvases (they were just rendered as drawings prior to this venture). I premiered my cartoon inspired acrylic paintings during CAOS (Cambridgeport Artists Open Studios) and to my surprise 49 out of 56 paintings sold during that summer!

The practical thing to do after such a successful show was to look for a job. My confidence was skyrocketing, and I was just truly elated. I would have won over anyone at any interview. Instead, I poured back the money I made during CAOS into my very first street art project. I grew up in San Francisco, and so I was exposed to a lot of graffiti. Though I was (still am) a huge fan of street artists, I was not the type of kid who would spray paint a wall. And so an idea came to me while in bed at 2 AM in the morning a few days after CAOS… Why not leave paintings for folks to take for free all over Boston? I didn’t want to vandalize nor to wait for a gallery show. So I decided to use the city as my exhibit space.

Aside from wanting to do my own street art, my other goals were to expose people to art who normally do not go to galleries or museums and to give original art to folks who may not be able to afford them. I also thought that giving away my pieces would be a great way to thank Boston for purchasing so many paintings in just two days.

I also wanted to see more smiles in New England. I was in the Midwest for grad school prior to moving here to teach at UMASS Amherst, and I was missing the warm interactions and eye contact. I complained about the lack of smiles in Boston for almost a decade. But that all changed when I saw Bostonians smile when they saw my paintings. In many ways, this was the catalyst for the Smile Boston Project. I told myself to stop complaining and to be proactive. And so for five years, I have been leaving paintings for folks to take for free with a note saying, “This painting is yours if you promise to smile at random people more often,” across the country and around the world. Below are feedback and photo samples from my recent Smile Chicago Project.

Know what? After doing Smile Boston Project for five years, I was proven wrong. Bostonians are friendly– they are just different from the Midwesterners or Californians. I’ve since ceased to complain. How can I not? I feel the love here in Boston… I am a full-time artist during this economic disaster! What more can I ask for? This is the best job I have ever had.

With that in mind, I am altering my street art project for a while. Instead of leaving my smile-related note, I will now tape a different one saying, “Everything will be alright.” I can’t think of a better way to uplift peoples feelings than to give free paintings during the Wall Street Blues. Look out for free paintings this month because I will be leaving them all over Boston and NYC!

Responses from the recent Smile Chicago Project:

I’m a 19 year old college student who lives in Chicago… I was out on a jog when I stumbled upon one of your paintings. I glanced at the bench in disbelief. I had heard of this project before and couldn’t believe my luck. I had a problem though. I had just started my run and still had about a mile to go. Do I take it and risk ruining it by clutching it tightly? Or do I leave it and if it’s here on the way back it’s meant to be. I made a deal with myself. Smile at everyone on the rest of my run and if it’s still here you can take it. If it’s gone, at least you smiled. Well I imagine I looked pretty funny sprinting down Columbus with a smile plastered on my face, but when I got back it was still resting just where you left it. I was so happy. I snatched it up and skipped home… My older brother and I are going on a backpacking trip around the world this summer. We’ve scrimped and saved enough to just get by and maybe be able to eat every once in a while. But I’ll be sure to smile at every one I see. Thanks for all your great work. I admire your strength and determination to spread love and respect in the world. Laura

Dear Bren, I was running some errands in the rain today when I spotted one of your paintings (the cutest little blue guy, sporting a big smile and a pair of red antennae). I stood there a minute and read and re-read the note, making sure it was really OK to take it–and then yoink! it was mine. Not only that, but then as I kept walking down the street, I smiled at someone who (now that I see your photo on the site) might have been you. Thank you for the painting, and for putting a smile on my face! I will keep up my end of the deal! What a wonderful way to put good energy into the world. I feel so lucky. xo Anne

Thank you for brightening my return to work on this rainy Chicago day!! I will take very good care of my whimsical little guy. And, ironically I AM a SMILER!!! and I will definitely pay it forward over and over again. Susan

Images: Bren Bataclan, UNTITLED (2008), 24 in x 36 in; Bren Bataclan and his paintings (photo by Yuri V.); Laura from Smile Chicago; Anne from Smile Chicago; Susan from Smile Chicago. Bren Bataclan and filmmaker David Tamés collaborated on a documentary film about the Smile Boston Project. Watch a preview. A book featuring Bren’s work, The Smile Project, is forthcoming from Ginko Press.

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Tracy Strauss, a poet, prose writer, educator, and past recipient of a Somerville Arts Council Artist Fellowship, recently attended the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, set in Vermont’s Green Mountain National Forest. We asked Tracy about her thoughts on the conference, and she passed along this terrific description of her particular experiences, ranging from the view (stunning), to the road (harrowing), to the writing (refocused).

Diary of a Bread Loafer
by Tracy L. Strauss

I just returned from the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference in Ripton, VT, where 200 writers of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry gathered for twelve days of literary exploration. As I reflect upon my first-time attendance, I can say that my experience atop “The Mountain” was challenging, exhilarating, and inspiring.

Each day was filled with a lineup of lectures and readings by great writers, panel discussions on acquiring an agent and approaching book and magazine editors, craft classes, and writing workshops. A familiar face, Chris Castellani, of Boston’s Grub Street, was also present on the mountain to talk about writing centers, colonies, and other professional development opportunities.

Evenings brought the chance for us Bread Loafers to read our work in the Blue Parlor, where we cheered each other on and shared our latest pieces of poetry and prose. (Each day’s itinerary was delivered to us via The Crumb, Bread Loaf’s daily dose).

Studying with Patricia Hampl, I had the opportunity to share a chapter of my memoir-in-progress with faculty and fellow writers for critical response. A discussion about metaphor and structure brought my project into rack focus within my inner eye, and sent me off with keener vision, motivation, and direction.

During breaks in the action, I would take some time for a little solitude, sitting in one of Bread Loaf’s many Appalachian chairs, looking out at the contemplative majesty of the Green Mountains. The sun glowed over parts of it, casting shadows over others. My journey to Bread Loaf, as in the writer’s life, seemed to be pictured in those mountains – in the darkness and light, in the peaks and valleys, standing tall, reaching for the heavens.

The stars were amazing at Bread Loaf. The sky was like a planetarium, with perfectly lit constellations and even the distinct appearance of the Milky Way. Many times I found myself standing in the middle of a field with fellow Bread Loafers, our heads craned back as we stared up at the stars, unable to tear ourselves away.

Before my trip to Bread Loaf Mountain, I had heard about a sense of elitism that some said pervades the Conference. What I did witness was easy to simply tune out. Many attendees, myself included, chose rather to tune in the camaraderie between newfound friends, and, in doing so, unnecessary competitiveness disappeared from the radar.

With no cell phone access and limited internet, many Bread Loafers went a little batty over the course of twelve days in literary seclusion, but the Conference scheduled two fun-filled barn dances to provide an outlet for such energy. Imagine a bunch of writers at a dance – the kind of social situation most of us dreaded in junior high. Then imagine us in our own skins, dancing to “Thriller” and “Crazy,” and having the time of our lives.

Meals were a time for us to share stories about ourselves, and, in many instances to make further connections with agents and editors and writing consultants who sat alongside us at the dining hall tables. Midway through the Conference, we took a 1.5 mile hike to the Robert Frost Farm, where we enjoyed a picnic lunch, toured Frost’s cabin, and listened to a lecture by Jay Parini, who spoke about Frost’s inspiration in nature. Bread Loaf also continued its tradition of the Poets and Prosers Pig Roast one evening, with vegetarian options available.

My trip to Bread Loaf began with some bumps in the road: literally, recent floods washed out the road to Ripton, forcing me to take a detour, which meant a steering-wheel gripping forty-five minute drive through an unpaved ditch-ridden “road” that wound through the woods. At one point the path split in two, and I did not know which one was the path to Bread Loaf. I wondered if I was re-living Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” (Frost, who shared his craft at Bread Loaf from 1939 until his death in 1963, is legacy at this Conference.) I chose right, however, as a half hour later I came upon a small sign that read “To Bread Loaf” and included an arrow outlined in yellow “Caution” tape.

My time away from Massachusetts seemed to isolate me from my life yet it simultaneously brought me back to it. The road I traveled home was smooth – repaired and open – and filled with a renewed sense of clarity, and the drive to write.

Images: Tracy Strauss reads in the Blue Parlor; view of the Green Mountains from Bread Loaf; on the porch at Bread Loaf; “To Bread Loaf” sign with caution tape.

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Mary Sherman (Painting Finalist ‘04) is currently a Fulbright Senior Scholar and artist-in-residence at the Kuandu Museum of Fine Arts in Taipei, Taiwan, and she sent us a fascinating update on her projects there. While in Taipei, Mary is running a workshop called “Here, There and Everywhere” collaborating with students and faculty from Taipei National University of the Arts, as well as local artists, to create an exhibition at the Kuandu Museum (running July 11 to August 31). Below are posts from Mary’s KdMoFa Collaborative Workshops blog, detailing projects by two of the artists teams participating in the workshop.

TEAM D

Mary Sherman / Pan Ping-Yu / Fujui Wang /Tao Ya-Lun/ Chang Ling/Josef Bares

Starry Night (on Mars)

When we were all showing each other our work, the idea of a shooting star came up; and everyone instantly locked onto it. Then, when we met again at the museum, we decided that we would create a sky - complete with shooting stars and a cosmic atmosphere. At the same time, we talked about how we all have the same sky above us; but we are culturally different and as such our myths and tales about the stars differ. However, what does seem universal in these stories is that they represent a projection of our desires, resulting in our interest to also make a star manual that would be open to everyone’s own cultural interpretation.

***

TEAM C

Chong Yi-Kei / Fan Sih-Ci / Ho Tsan-Wen / Lin Shin-Mei / Chang Feng-Shih / Huang Po-Chih

Crack Down 2.2

All our work, on some level, is an investigation of fragments of the human body or personality. Our investigation is undertaken to better understand the complexities of both these fragments and their role in understanding ourselves and those around us. For this exhibition we have decided to switch from our more usual visual format to focus on the sound of the human voice. We, thus, have created a dialog of disembodied voices so that the audience also can experience what we believe - that such a fragment of ourselves can convey a great deal.

See more images from the collaboration.

Here Comes the Sun

Along with her work in Taipei, Mary collaborated with Italian artist Rudi Punzo on another project, a massive public art performance in partnership with Shanghai’s Zendai Museum of Modern Art. Here Comes the Sun featured 800 hand-printed Kongming lanterns, launched into the sky in a carefully choreographed sequence to spell “here comes the sun” in ASCII programming code. A sound design accompanied each launch.

The text “here comes the sun” (along with its obvious debt to the Beatles) is a rough translation of a Chinese blessing, a tribute to Chinese citizens following the recent earthquake disaster. Mary and her collaborator invited the public to add their own messages being sent to the heavens.

Mary Sherman is the founder of TransCultural Exchange. As an artist, she has exhibited widely in the U.S. and abroad, including New York, Seoul, Vienna, Chicago, London, and Venice.

“Starry Night (on Mars)” by Team D, KdMoFa Collaborative Workshops, Taipei, Taiwan; “Crack Down 2.2″ by Team C, KdMoFa Collaborative Workshops, Taipei, Taiwan; Artists prepare to launch Kongming lanterns, “Here Comes the Sun,” Zendai MoMA, Shanghai, China; Mary Sherman works with artists to prepare lanterns for “Here Comes the Sun,” Shanghai, China; Another view of “Here Comes the Sun,” Zendai MoMA, Shanghai, China

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Take a moment to check out this artifact from the life of 21-year-old Drey Fank, care of Ariel Kotker’s (Sculpture/Installation Fellow ‘07) “His Room As He Left It” installation:

Defibrillator sticker

17 May 08
Git Up N’ Go Defibrillator Co.
A sticker Drey finds on a box at the Rest Home one day. He peels it off, takes it home and puts it on his bass guitar. He thinks it’s a band sticker for the metal band from Beam called “Luvstrikken”.

*****

Ariel will exhibit in-progress selections from “His Room As He Left It” in the upcoming En Mass show at Boston Sculptors Gallery (May 21-June 22). When finished, Ariel’s installation will be a “walk-in novella,” a room filled with sculptures from Drey’s everyday life, stuff like a whiffle ball, Chevaline brand beer cans, a rabbit’s foot, and Oak Smokes cigarettes, all handmade and approximately life-size.

Ariel is documenting the project on an accompanying blog, and we asked if she’d let us put up her most recent post. Bless her heart, she agreed!

See more artifacts from Drey’s life in this intriguing video clip. And check out her work (as well as work by other Sculpture/Installations Fellows Alan Colby, Peggy Diggs, Matthew Hincman, and Nick Rodrigues) at En Mass at Boston Sculptors Gallery, May 21-June 22, 2008. Opening reception June 6 (First Friday), 6-9 PM.

Image: Ariel Kotker’s “Git Up N’ Go Defibrillator Co.”, acrylic inks on origami paper with added adhesive (2008). From the ongoing installation His Room As He Left It.

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