AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 1

Articles In This Section:

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 1

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 2

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 3

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 4

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 5

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 6

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 7

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 8

· AMERICA'S ART COLONIES - part 9

The art colony is an interesting institution peculiar not only to the United States. In fact, you find them even more often in Mexico and Europe, and for all I know all over the world where there are artists. Since retiring from the grind, I have personally lived in such art colonies in America, Mexico, Spain, Italy and Morocco. And always I've found stimulating qualities in both the towns and their populations.

When I say artist, I don't, of course, mean just painters. Your art colonies will attract the practitioners of every art in the book— and some not in the book. There will be painters, sculptors, writers, composers, actors, photographers, musicians, handicraft practitioners and what not. Above all there will be large numbers of pseudo-artists who do a great deal of talking, cocktail in hand, about painting or writing, or whatever, but very little real work. And then there will be even larger numbers of folk who like to hang around artists and consider themselves intellectuals, whatever that means.

But in spite of the large number of phonies to be found in the average art colony they still have their fascination. Usually there is an art school or two, in case you are interested yourself seriously or just as a hobby, and always there are the stimulating conversations, the strange new ideas, the heated arguments, the striving for expression.

Why and what is an art colony? Well, it usually goes something like this. An artist, or group of artists, finds some cheap place in which to live, trying to locate it in a spot of scenic beauty and preferably where the weather is good. The economical part of it is a prime necessity since artists seem almost always to be short of money. Having located such a place, they write their friends and in one way and another the word gets around. Here is a beauty spot, here are other artists with whom to associate, here one can get a little cabin and work at one's art very well indeed on very little money.

More artists move in, and sooner or later one of the travel magazines or art publications writes the town up, naming it an art colony. So still more people hear about the place, including the above mentioned pseudo-artists and the hangers-on. And the town begins to fill. Where formerly you could rent a little cabin for possibly $20 a month, there is a housing shortage and rents double. Where formerly you could buy a jug of red wine (in the west) or applejack (in the east) for a dollar or so from one of the local citizens, now a liquor store goes up. Where formerly there was a little local tavern where you sat around in the evenings having a beer or two, a flashy nightclub and two or three neon-lit bars complete with juke-boxes, take over. Where formerly you got your milk and butter, a bushel of potatoes and an occasional chicken, from one of the local farmers, now somebody opens a supermarket and it becomes the only place you can buy food.

Before you know it, the town is booming. Souvenir shops arise, swank hotels go up, the local beanery is expanded into a garish restaurant with high prices and a French chef.