The Greenwich Village tradition began when then-starving-artist Jackson Pollock brought his work to the street to sell for a few bucks in 1931. Now, the exhibit takes place every Memorial Day Weekend and Labor Day Weekend.
The unique venue allows artists to tell the stories behind their work.
“People can talk directly with artists, which they can’t do in a gallery,” explained executive director of the exhibit John Morehouse.
Diana Robinson, who won the first prize for best photography at the exhibit, got to display her photos in a way she never has before. In galleries, she only gets one or two of her images into an exhibit. At the Outdoor Art Exhibit, 27 of her diverse images, displayed side by side, told the tale of an adventurer with an eye for beauty.
In Big Bend, Texas, Robinson focused on the North Star at night. She set her camera for long exposure. As the world turned, the stars left streaks of light that circle around the North Star like a whirlpool in the sky.
In Carmel, Calif., an old wooden mission door with chipped paint caught her eye. In Page, Ariz., she encountered tumbleweed on a shelf of reddish rock as she walked through Antelope Canyon. Closer to home, she captured the Flatiron Building in a way that makes it shine with a silvery light in the shadow of night.
Robinson recently returned from Maine and will soon be off to see the hot air balloons in Albuquerque. Afterward, she’ll set off on a mission to capture the beauty of a western autumn.
“The animals are migrating in the fall; it’s a beautiful time out west,” said Robinson.
When she is not traveling, she is experimenting with lighting and still-life shots in her Greenwich Village home.
A 9-year-old star
“I paint from half memory, half imagination,” explained Elson. His father, Paul Elson, whose work was displayed along side his son’s, has taken his son for strolls in Japan and China over the years. The Asian landscapes have inspired them both.
The younger Elson depicted lotus blossoms, orange trees, and “Twilight Pink” flowers sticking out of rocks in Japan.
Christopher said he doesn’t shy away from a challenging subject like the Great Wall of China, “because when you’re done, it looks really nice and you feel proud of yourself.”
The elder Elson painted scenes of misty, natural grandeur. In one painting, the silhouette of a monk seems small yet strong against a vast mountain, as he faces a mountaintop temple above a sea of fog. The rosy orb of the sun rises behind him.
Small figures with red umbrellas appear as a motif in Paul Elson’s works, from Inle Lake in Burma to New York City parks.
At the Emerson Images booth, snippets of wisdom accompanied the work of several photographers—an additional frame for their world view.
A Tibetan woman gazes pensively over the Himalayas in “Tibet’s Diaspora.” The words of the early 20th-century Chilean poet Vicente Huidobro are inscribed beneath, describing the plight of people distant from him in time and space: “I am absent but deep in this absence. There is waiting for myself and this waiting is another form of presence. The waiting for my return.”
Morehouse, who has directed the exhibit for the last three years and strolled through as a spectator for the last 50, reported that the 100 or so artists that came out for this year’s display is a normal turnout. Thousands of dollars in prize money rewarded the best work.
The exhibit gives the artists a unique format to display many of their works in a condensed space and to engage in a dialogue with both their audience and other artists. Snapshots of home and of distant lands, taken from a variety of perspectives and expressed in many different styles, made the tradition a local one with exotic flavor.
“We’re a New York City tradition, and a good one!” declared Morehouse.
