ART VALET: Tales from the Art Market Trenches: Chaos, dreams, early birds — and a fun Halloween event

This week, I feel like waxing poetic—not the true definition of the phrase, which obviously references poetry and eloquence. I’m leaning toward more disjointed verbosity, randomness, or perhaps I should just say…me. I am king of random!

A friend recently suggested (quite strongly) that I write a book about my experience with outdoor art markets—a guide for artists and perhaps people thinking about starting their own market. I have the experience, notes, and very interesting stories.

For readers who don’t know me, I started Houston’s first monthly art market in 2004. Houston had its festivals, bazaars, and one fledgling farmers market that started that same year—nothing like a regular art market, though.

My experience came through trial and error, and very early on. By early, I mean about 5:45 in the morning. Back then, the market hours were 9 to 5, and I told the artists to come set up around 7 a.m.

I would arrive at 6 a.m., and there were already people waiting for me. Once, someone was actually pitching their tent before I even got there. They had to move, of course—not even in the market area. I changed the hours eventually.

That reminds me (random moment): the only type of dreams—actually, nightmares—I have about the market are setup disasters! The dreams aren’t too different from that gentleman who set up on the sidewalk.

In the dreams, I always get delayed and arrive late. The artists have all set up their tents wherever they felt like it. There’s no order to the layout; they’re spread out too far, on the sidewalks, etc. It’s all just chaos.

Fortunately, I’ve never missed a day or arrived late at my market. (I’m knocking on my wooden desk!) I still get early birds, but I’m smiling at them now. I could be quite ornery back in the day over early arrivals.

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