Sculpture Key West is in trouble. And why wouldn't it be when the Arts are just one element of our former prosperous life going down the drain of economic contraction?
The parking lot at Fort Zachary Taylor was lined with small campers from Quebec, the annual winter migration of French speakers to our island, now with their loonies worth more than the dollar and thus empowered they can spend all day in the comfortable bum-free zone of the state park. Indigenous Park used to be their hang out but these are prosperous days for citizens of a country with well regulated banks, a housing bubble and energy to sell abroad. Oh and no health insurance worries either. No medical bankruptcies in Canada and you know this lot has their provincial health cards with them so Canada pays our outrageous health care costs should a Canadian fall ill or injured while in the US.
Down here in the land of the free with unemployment at Depression era levels, millions on food stamps, millions more off the assistance rolls altogether and tens of millions with no access to health care, it happens that the Key West Symphony has gone bust and has left musicians with unpaid wages. The number of exhibits at the annual Sculpture key West display is down to seventeen from a high a few years ago in the mid 50s according to the Key West Citizen. The open space shown above used to be littered with artworks. The views across key West Harbor are nice though and I've peppered a few through this essay owing to the dearth of Art.
Please keep coming to Key West and spending money. Please. 
The Fort is a splendid viewing spot. However I had no time to visit as I was going to see True Grit at the Tropic after my dog walk in the park. I'm sorry to say the Coen brothers' version of the classic John Wayne version far outshines the original. Jeff Bridges is totally excellent as the marshal and the Coen brothers' script struck me as flawless. I spent a delightful one hour and fifty minutes at a movie I expected not to enjoy as I am not a Coen brothers fan. 
On to the static art of the afternoon.
This artist is a local apparently. He made it through the rigorous jury selection process and apparently some of the decline of the exhibit is blamed on the strenuous efforts to keep local artists out for fear they might in some manner no explained "lower the tone." We are supposed to see more locals next year, if this fading show even actually returns, which is something I am starting to doubt.
I rather liked the contrast of the tanbark foresail on this traditional cruiser spanking along in a strong north breeze across the turquoise harbor waters.
We were not alone as Cheyenne and I strolled the grounds. Tourists I think, with their neat clothes, trim white socks and not a food stain between them. 
Aeroplane!
This next exhibit was spinning like a propeller. It came all the way from Virginia they say.
It's hard to imagine how awful Key West based entries must have been to have been booted out by a length of metal spinning on a metal pole.
I offered Cheyenne an opportunity to go wading at the formerly nude beach tucked away next to the Outer Mole. Instead the furry whore when hunting for their lunch. They said they lived in key West though how they could be nude in the chill north breeze I do not know. They are probably from Minnesota, them and their cute French accents. 
Er, okay. What is it? An ostrich in such a vast spacious nesty sort of place? Surely they mean "Birds nesting". 
Mirrors on the horizon.
This is reportedly Square Wave from Fairfax Virginia, which, as it is on the western or inland side of the nation's capital makes it a noted authority no doubt on wave formation. I thought I looked rather swishy reflected in the wave, my hips rather more gay and flexible than might be the case in real life. 
Cheyenne politely refrained from falling over laughing. 
A rather lonely wave, square or otherwise in a sea of empty grass.
This next one got a thumbs up in the paper.
A local effort. Rather like an out sized souvenir pen from CVS.
The irritation felt about this past couple of years' exhibitions has been over the fact that the display has been spread over three locations, the West Martello Tower and the Key West Botanical Garden on Stock island (whence comes tomorrow's essay). The organizer announced in a letter to the paper that the reason for the change was that the park management was unfriendly and the Civil War reenactors want more room and so on and so forth. So they spread the exhibits out at a time when the rest of the planet noticed money and credit were drying up everywhere and Bernie Madoff wiped out most South Florida charitable efforts.
This year's Big Effort came from half way round the world. 
I rather wondered if the noisy people who hold sway over the Arts in little Key West weren't miffed that the sculptures weren't drawing too much attention to the lowly state park and wanted a piece of the action. In getting it they seem to have sounded the death knell on this stressed out piece of fun that is Sculpture Key West.
Sculpture Key West has been good for the state park in light of the recent fracas over proposals to murder the casuarina trees near the beach. That idea got rolled back amid horrid anger citywide, and now the sculptures, a highlight of winter, are fading. They used to have concerts in the park too but the Chorale last year preferred the sterility of an indoor Christmas Concert at Tennessee Williams, and so it goes. Thank God for the Korean Caterpillar else there would have been precious little to fill the void.
The Florida Keys in large measure live a charmed life compared to places Up North. When people fall off the employment rolls here they simply disappear Up North to eke out a life with their families. Until our new robber baron Governor took office Florida's state budget wasn't in the awful shape we read about in other large states like California, Illinois and new Jersey. We can only hope the true conservatives in Tallahassee hold the line as they have indicated they intend to on proposed crazy ass tax cuts, but in any event Key West is doing okay in the midst of the world economic meltdown (known as a recovery to the White House).
We float along on a cloud of tourist income and good weather and even though the demographic is getting markedly older (and testier) we are lucky to be on the edge of the meltdown Up North. 
Still, people should guard their treasures with greater concern and awareness, because if they don't what Arts exist here will be washed away. If organizers can't get their shit together this exhibition will fade just like the symphony has, just as art galleries have up and down the city streets. 
That would be a shame. 
I parked Cheyenne in the shade on Simonton Street, fed the meter and walked to the Tropic. True Grit was showing in the new Peggy Dow theater and very comfortable it was too. As we waited for the lights to go down a couple of the older demographic snowbirds were discussing their impending death. "I can give $600,000 to the kids tax free...?" one querulous voice asked loudly. "Yes,' came the reply. "The other one point four million you get taxed on even if it's in the trust," replied a younger voice. They rattled on for a while discussing inheritance tax rates and trusts. One younger voice (an inheritor perhaps?) grumbled about the reversion to former tax rates and iniquitous death taxes and so forth. All I could think was, we should all have such problems.
The parking lot at Fort Zachary Taylor was lined with small campers from Quebec, the annual winter migration of French speakers to our island, now with their loonies worth more than the dollar and thus empowered they can spend all day in the comfortable bum-free zone of the state park. Indigenous Park used to be their hang out but these are prosperous days for citizens of a country with well regulated banks, a housing bubble and energy to sell abroad. Oh and no health insurance worries either. No medical bankruptcies in Canada and you know this lot has their provincial health cards with them so Canada pays our outrageous health care costs should a Canadian fall ill or injured while in the US.
Down here in the land of the free with unemployment at Depression era levels, millions on food stamps, millions more off the assistance rolls altogether and tens of millions with no access to health care, it happens that the Key West Symphony has gone bust and has left musicians with unpaid wages. The number of exhibits at the annual Sculpture key West display is down to seventeen from a high a few years ago in the mid 50s according to the Key West Citizen. The open space shown above used to be littered with artworks. The views across key West Harbor are nice though and I've peppered a few through this essay owing to the dearth of Art.Please keep coming to Key West and spending money. Please. 
The Fort is a splendid viewing spot. However I had no time to visit as I was going to see True Grit at the Tropic after my dog walk in the park. I'm sorry to say the Coen brothers' version of the classic John Wayne version far outshines the original. Jeff Bridges is totally excellent as the marshal and the Coen brothers' script struck me as flawless. I spent a delightful one hour and fifty minutes at a movie I expected not to enjoy as I am not a Coen brothers fan. 
On to the static art of the afternoon.
This artist is a local apparently. He made it through the rigorous jury selection process and apparently some of the decline of the exhibit is blamed on the strenuous efforts to keep local artists out for fear they might in some manner no explained "lower the tone." We are supposed to see more locals next year, if this fading show even actually returns, which is something I am starting to doubt.
I rather liked the contrast of the tanbark foresail on this traditional cruiser spanking along in a strong north breeze across the turquoise harbor waters.
We were not alone as Cheyenne and I strolled the grounds. Tourists I think, with their neat clothes, trim white socks and not a food stain between them. 
Aeroplane!
This next exhibit was spinning like a propeller. It came all the way from Virginia they say.
It's hard to imagine how awful Key West based entries must have been to have been booted out by a length of metal spinning on a metal pole.
I offered Cheyenne an opportunity to go wading at the formerly nude beach tucked away next to the Outer Mole. Instead the furry whore when hunting for their lunch. They said they lived in key West though how they could be nude in the chill north breeze I do not know. They are probably from Minnesota, them and their cute French accents. 
Er, okay. What is it? An ostrich in such a vast spacious nesty sort of place? Surely they mean "Birds nesting". 
Mirrors on the horizon.
This is reportedly Square Wave from Fairfax Virginia, which, as it is on the western or inland side of the nation's capital makes it a noted authority no doubt on wave formation. I thought I looked rather swishy reflected in the wave, my hips rather more gay and flexible than might be the case in real life. 
Cheyenne politely refrained from falling over laughing. A rather lonely wave, square or otherwise in a sea of empty grass.This next one got a thumbs up in the paper.
A local effort. Rather like an out sized souvenir pen from CVS.
The irritation felt about this past couple of years' exhibitions has been over the fact that the display has been spread over three locations, the West Martello Tower and the Key West Botanical Garden on Stock island (whence comes tomorrow's essay). The organizer announced in a letter to the paper that the reason for the change was that the park management was unfriendly and the Civil War reenactors want more room and so on and so forth. So they spread the exhibits out at a time when the rest of the planet noticed money and credit were drying up everywhere and Bernie Madoff wiped out most South Florida charitable efforts.
This year's Big Effort came from half way round the world. 
I rather wondered if the noisy people who hold sway over the Arts in little Key West weren't miffed that the sculptures weren't drawing too much attention to the lowly state park and wanted a piece of the action. In getting it they seem to have sounded the death knell on this stressed out piece of fun that is Sculpture Key West.
Sculpture Key West has been good for the state park in light of the recent fracas over proposals to murder the casuarina trees near the beach. That idea got rolled back amid horrid anger citywide, and now the sculptures, a highlight of winter, are fading. They used to have concerts in the park too but the Chorale last year preferred the sterility of an indoor Christmas Concert at Tennessee Williams, and so it goes. Thank God for the Korean Caterpillar else there would have been precious little to fill the void.
The Florida Keys in large measure live a charmed life compared to places Up North. When people fall off the employment rolls here they simply disappear Up North to eke out a life with their families. Until our new robber baron Governor took office Florida's state budget wasn't in the awful shape we read about in other large states like California, Illinois and new Jersey. We can only hope the true conservatives in Tallahassee hold the line as they have indicated they intend to on proposed crazy ass tax cuts, but in any event Key West is doing okay in the midst of the world economic meltdown (known as a recovery to the White House).
We float along on a cloud of tourist income and good weather and even though the demographic is getting markedly older (and testier) we are lucky to be on the edge of the meltdown Up North. 
Still, people should guard their treasures with greater concern and awareness, because if they don't what Arts exist here will be washed away. If organizers can't get their shit together this exhibition will fade just like the symphony has, just as art galleries have up and down the city streets. 
That would be a shame. 
I parked Cheyenne in the shade on Simonton Street, fed the meter and walked to the Tropic. True Grit was showing in the new Peggy Dow theater and very comfortable it was too. As we waited for the lights to go down a couple of the older demographic snowbirds were discussing their impending death. "I can give $600,000 to the kids tax free...?" one querulous voice asked loudly. "Yes,' came the reply. "The other one point four million you get taxed on even if it's in the trust," replied a younger voice. They rattled on for a while discussing inheritance tax rates and trusts. One younger voice (an inheritor perhaps?) grumbled about the reversion to former tax rates and iniquitous death taxes and so forth. All I could think was, we should all have such problems.
But I'm lucky, with no children to worry about, a secure job, I think, health benefits and time enough to take a sunny February walk to enjoy what I hope is not a last lovely art exhibit allowed to fade away and die like an abundant inheritance through lack of care and attention.
13 comments:
Can't wait to hear what Riepe has to say...................
Not enough thong, not enough tit, blah blah blah.
He might say, boobie boobie boobie boobie, perhaps?
Love Jeff Bridges, but John Wayne was much more the character at playing the character of Rooster Cogburn...just my .02 cents, but this is representive of the entire comparison between the casts.. :)
Yes, the only thing that kept us from complete meltdown in Canada was the fact that the govt. allowed oligapolies (banks) were not allowed to offer the US version of subprime. They tried however. I recall RBC offering no money down mtg for about a year (until fall 2008). As a result, within 3 years Canadians are now surpassings our neighbours strapped with non sustainable household debt. I see people, many of whom are still employed, many who aren't, living large on credit. Two weeks ago the Minister of Finance started closing the door on Home Equity Lines of Credit up here for the first time since this evil finance structure was introduced about 8 years ago. This will ring the final bell for many Canadians in the "cheap" suburbs over the next ten years as rates inevitably rise, they retire and still have mortgages that will never go away and credit cards that sustained them for so many years. The whole "keeping up with jones" still exists up here, makes me laugh. The reality check that was the meltdown had an effect, but it is more drawn out and has yet to sting in full. When prime rates rise here a quarter percent, after a couple of weeks I always see for sale signs go up. Every time over the past year.....I tell everyone who will listen if you have a job and a mortgage. Either downsize if you can, and/or start paying that mtg down as fast as possible, regardless of low rates. Forget about saving for whatever, kids, "retirement", you'll save by either renting or paying less in interest over time. That's the new retirement, paying less/no interest over time.
Dear Conscooter:
I am delighted to hear that our smug neighbors to the north will soon be wallowing in economic quicksand. They're not even paying for two wars and will suddenly find themselves woking until age 95 (if they can find a job), selling every natural resource they can scape together to the evil Chinese, and pimping black market maple syrup for 80¢ a quart. Then the real cost of getting free synthetic Celebrex will be known.
I am not surprised that the Key West Symphony has gone bust, leaving musicians at curbside with their pants around their ankles. But you can bet the scumbag Executive Director got his last paycheck. There is nothing more important to a civilization than music and art... And I fail to understand why a grantsman, under the pay of some superfluous Key West Department, like the useless convention and visitors bureau, isn't directed to get off his fat ass and find a way to get symphony funding for next year.
Then again, US companies are standing in line to put their names on the stadiums, concert halls, and bordellos all across the country. Do you think the musicians would mind getting a a corporate tattoo on their foreheads.
As a writer, a real one who makes his living this way, I should be sensitive to ebb and flow of real art. But I once stood in line for an exhibit at the venerable Guggenheim in New York City. One of the artworks was a can labelled "Merda d'Artista." It was a can of shit from the Italian artist Piero Manzoni. I can appreciate an artistic statement of this degree. One of those tins sold for 124,000 Euros on May 23, 2007. And I saw stuff like that in at least one of this exhibits at the state park n Key West.
The young girl on the beach triggered a very different kind of response from me. Even in this grainy picture, you could see her flawless skin and the spirit of the beach in her hair. It was the first time on this blog I saw a picture of feminine sensuality that wasn't forced by body paint or bizarre clothing in a parade. Just looking at her made me wish I was young again... And then I remembered having slept with women who looked just like her — and I was glad for the memories.
If you want cheesecake, go to my blog and click on "Barbie Benton."
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
And another thing:
The temperature is supposed to hit 50º (F) here today, and is predictd to whack 68º (F) on Friday. Eighty-nine percent of the exposed earth in this part of Pennsylvania is still covered up to 4 inches by ice and snow, and despite the fucking heat wave, there will still be piles of it on my driveway on Saturday.
So how do you think I feel when you take what amounts to an abstract picture of yourself in a series of mirrors, wearing a jacket, a winter hat, gloves, long pants, snow shoes, and Dr. Denton underwear (with the feet sewn in)?
JP/TW
Dear Conchscooter:
You might not remember me, but this is Shirley Steinblatt. I wrote you last week, and when I went back to see if you had left a reply, I found all these other stories that you wrote. I didn't realize that you were walking your way through Florida. Is this for a charity or something?
I wanted to write to you sooner, but they changed my pills and diet and I found myself running to the bathroom a dozen times a day. Twice I sat down to write to you, and I nearly crapped in my drawers waiting for someone to help me into the bathroom. Assisted living isn't all it's made out to be. There are times when I think 75 years old is just too long to live when you have to worry about crapping in your drawers.
I told everyone at Mahjong about you, and that you would be sending pictures of your beautiful island home, and your dog, almost everyday. Ethel Millstein, her son is a doctor, didn't believe me. So I am going to show her tomorrow. I was wondering if you could hold up a little sign that said, "Just For Shirley." It would also be good if you had your shirt off, or at least open.
Yours Truly
Shirley Steinblatt
Dear Jack (and Shirley) I will talk to the paramedics tonight at work about a safe maximum dose for your medication.
Dear Jeff, I have given up giving advice so I have modified my reply to your thoughtful comment by limiting myself simply to saying that if 30 million Canadians can't see how they are likely to follow the 299 million bankrupt Americans at their doorstep they deserve all the pain that is going to be inflicted on them as it is being inflicted on us. That, or start learning mandarin Chinese Kuà isù, which i am told means quickly.
The other million americans are living high on the hog but we can't see over the electric fence into their backyards.
Cheers,
Unfortunately I do not live in the "Liberal" state of Utah. Otherwise being presently married I would find myself in a virtual "heaven" because I would search high and low for this "woman" Shirley Steinblatt. Age difference be damned. As soon as I create enough room on my HELOC and buy my overpriced two wheel transportation, I will find you Shirley. And when I do I hope you drag out your stilettos from the 70's and are wearing a very short skirt. I'll make a holder on the scooter for your walker...)
Actually, now I think it's 309 million Americans who are broke, with 1 million doing well.
Is that the stunt plane that used to do loops and spins and dives right off Mallory Square? He was always fun to watch.
The plane started doing stunts and spewing smoke but my camera was pointing at riepe's babe on the beach. What can I say? I'm an abject failure.
I have enjoyed all your blogs since I found this online, and now I could use a little information. I have been to Key West several times, but this year I have a motorhome. I noticed a few weeks ago of you mentioning about a small family owned trailer park there you passed by. I could use the information about it and any others that might be in Key West.
Thank you for any help you can give me.
Jerry Pirkl
Sarasota, FL
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