Knit One, Pearl Two

Across America there are empty storefronts reminding us that, while the worst of the recession may be over, it’s still a long way back to normal. That’s presuming that things will ever be normal again. What will the new normal look like? TBD.

The empty storefronts are metaphors for loss, a life once filled with diversions. Empty stores are like exclamation points, they dot Main Street like punctuations. Store windows once decorated with holiday trim now have unattractive “This space for lease...will build to suit” posters, insulting us on our way to work, or the unemployment line.

Across America there are artists, poets, photographers, actors, dancers and musicians sorely in need of ad-hoc space to present their craft. Well, just the other day, I was on the way from my office to Carnegie Hall, and running late (no jokes, no I didn’t practice, practice, practice) when I came across a familiar retailer that recently closed its store on Sixth Avenue. What to my wondering eyes did appear, but a super groovy--albeit bizarre (my opinion)--conceptual artist who had crocheted a labyrinth of webs and custom-crocheted cozies. She crocheted cozies for a sled, chairs and an indignant look pug dog--she had even crocheted herself into a carpet and had a live model doing contortionist-like moves in a crocheted bikini. Rest assured the window was provocative and made me rethink my grandmother's custom-crocheted Kleenex box with plastic Payettes.

There are few affordable theater and gallery spaces anywhere. Hence, some enterprising partnerships are popping up. Once-adversarial-cast landlords with spare stock on their books are donating, or offering spaces at deep reductions in rental, to these talented people. It’s a win-win. Naturally, it’s great for artists, but it’s equally terrific for the landlord who looks like a “good-guy,” and a part of the community. This exchange of space instills generosity and good-will among us commoners who are looking for affordable (if not free) entertainment off the beaten track. If you can’t afford a night out at the theater, or need to buy a small popcorn/small diet cola at the Cineplex to make ends meet, then this is the ticket!

Think of it as a store that’s being used for a poetry slam, a photo exhibit or a production of “Abies Irish Rose.” For decades, artists have tried to create happenings outside of the “norm,” Isadora Duncan danced on the beach (granted it was the Italian Riviera),  Augusto Boal performs his union propaganda plays at local supermarkets and even Kayne West made a video at Macy’s.

Was the public interested? The installation attracted more attention than Momorar Kaddafi and Barak Obama, who were just a few blocks away at the UN. People anxious to get home on the 5:15 were entranced. Saks' best windows don’t draw these kinds of crowds. Like an accident, when one New Yorker sees a crowd they are liable to join in--it’s our nature. People were snapping photos with their cell phones, talking to each other (New Yorkers?) and tapping the glass to get the artists attention. I even saw a cop smile!

So landlords with a heart, if you want some positive attention to draw potential renters, think about calling your local artist and offer your space as a quid pro quo. Who knows, maybe one of those enlightened souls knows someone looking for a corner lot to rent.

--Ron Knoth, Guest Blogger