Good weather brought crowds the first weekend of the Palmer Fair and congested our booth. “Wing Dancing,” the huge canvas of Sandhill Cranes drew people who absorbed colorful pointillism and admired the variety of subject matter. The original painting “Blue Poppy” also starred. Twelve hour days turn into sixteen with bookwork and inventory, meeting, greeting, explaining, restocking, gulping food on the run, limited downtime wore down both of our aging bodies. Bob, nursing broken ribs, did a herculean job popping Ibuprophyn and taking rest breaks in the camper. I found energy and adrenalin from my collectors and friends. Each morning we groggily drink coffee waiting for the caffeine jolt to get going.
I paint all year alone in my studio and look forward to display my work and interact with the public. It is not upscale or snobbish, the fair is down and dirty, tacky and wonderful, a mix of plastic made in china souvenirs and hand-made excellence. Beautifully grown vegetables, animals lovingly raised by children, food from prized recipes, quilts, art, photos, pottery, all mixed with glitzy carny rides and cheesecake in a cone. The grounds exploding with colorful blooming annuals, benches placed randomly for rest, climbing lumberjacks thrilling crowds, community choirs song drifting mixing with the beating bass speakers magnifying sounds of concert headliners performing outdoors, the fair offers something for everyone.
I guess my career as an artist will never see gallery shows in the New York art district, I’m content to meet Alaskans and visitors in the places that they go. Few attend openings in galleries anymore unlike the great crowds during the 80′s, times have changed. My favorite galleries are closing and none are opening to replace them. I’m not sure what the future holds for artists, but for now I have an art booth at the Alaska State Fair and am happy and humbled by the experience.
Gail Niebrugge, Alaska Artist
