If you happen to see something resembling a bright, pink refrigerator rolling towards you on a Toronto street, the person behind it is probably Lukasz or Andrzej, the two proponents of VendArt (www.vendart.org). And if you get their attention, there’s a good chance they will open up that fridge-like box and hand you a free art-filled Ziploc bag.

VendArt is one of the latest attempts at making the interaction with (and purchase of) original art easier for the general public. In other cities, artists have been attacking the idea of high art as a luxury commodity that functions mainly as a status symbol for the rich. On his website, Berlin’s self-proclaimed “Cheap” artist Jim Avignon insists that “anybody who feels concerned by a picture should be able to take it home.” (www.artzone.com) Avignon promotes the Cheap Art Movement‚ through his CuratorKiller Gallery; he sells his own work for about $10 each. Vermont’s Bread and Puppet Theatre Group espoused a similar message in their 1984 Cheap Art Manifesto: “Art has to be cheap and available to everybody. It needs to be everywhere Art is for kitchens! Art is like good bread!”

Then in 1997, American artist Clark Whittington began appropriating cigarette machines (practically altars in his home of “tobacco town” Winston-Salem, North Carolina) to create an art-vending machine network. Whittington’s website www.artomat.org boasts that, for just $5, his Art*o*mats© now provide cellophane-wrapped exposure to 300 artists from ten countries.
Around Montreal, a smaller network of Cigarette-Machine-cum-Two-Dollar-Art-Vending-Machines exist under the name of Distroboto. When I asked Distroboto manager and Fish Piss zine publisher Louis Rastelli why he thinks art can be well served by vending machines, he explained, “artists can come up with tiny oeuvres that serve as a calling card, curio or what have you. Most of them realize it never hurts to have more of their work out there.” Aside from visual art, Distroboto vends zines and music, anything that’s smaller than the size of a pack of cigarettes. As an example of the advantages of vending your work, Louis tells me how one artist makes “decent pocket change” by selling over 300 silk-screened mini-art books through Distroboto.
(archivemontreal@canada.com)

Lukasz and Andrzej’s art-vending machine resided, until recently, in Toronto’s new Drake Hotel bar. However, these OCAD students prefer that their “art-exchange unit” remains portable. “We like surprising people,” admits Lukasz over a beer at The Rex. “It’s art looking for the people, not people looking for the art,” he insists. Andrzej remembers taking their art-exchange machine on a recent trip to New York. “I’ve seen kids take my work, I’ve seen parents, families, and for the most part, people enjoyed what they got, it made them happy. It gave me energy to do it more.”

VendArt takes its cue from advertising. It invades public spaces to get its artists‚ work and messages out. Lukasz even explains his point in advert-like headlines: “Fuck the galleries, fuck the elite system we’re cutting out the middlemen!” However, Andrzej counters, “it’s not that we’re going against the galleries, just providing another venue for people to expose their work. We’re easier to get along with than most galleries.”

When asked about the relationship of art-vending machines to art galleries, Louis also feels that it’s possible for the galleries to even make use of the machines to promote their artists and shows. Still, it’s the zine-makers and musicians that really seem to gravitate towards Distroboto. When I ask what Distroboto’s function could be within local indie rock scenes like Wavelength, Louis responds, “The indie rock kids are very slack-ass compared to others. Maybe a lot of them think CDs and cassettes are on the way out or something. However the older, i.e. over 25 or 30-year-old musicians, especially the more experimental ones like 1-Speed Bike, Sixtoo, Knurl, The Unireverse or Les Georges Leningrad, make music for the Distroboto and love the idea.” He adds, “The philosophy behind Distroboto is definitely D.I.Y.-driven, as I come from the early-‘80s hardcore scene originally and never forgot those ideals.”

Meanwhile, artist Andrzej sums up the purpose of his vending machine with: “You need art and whatever the fuck you think art is, you need it.”

BY DEE RYNER

FEATURE INTERVIEW
rock the vote!

If there was ever a time for Toronto’s arts community to pay attention to municipal politics, it would be right this freakin’ minute.

To refresh your memory, David Miller and a slew of progressive city councillors took back City Hall from Mel Lastman and his greedy gang of corporate bloodsuckers last November. I found the victory of Miller all the more sweet for one simple reason: Lastman had been a mayor to me my entire life.

I spent 23 years maturing in North York under the watchful eye of Mayor Mel. While attending Earl Haig S.S., I spent my lunch hours on the lawns of Mel Lastman Square outside old North York City Hall. My parents and grandparents were strong supporters of the Little Ball of Hairplugs, and I must admit that I voted for the bugger the first time I cast my ballot in city elections in 1993 (I was 19).

When I moved downtown in the summer of 1997, and reformed my ways, I had a brief reprise from Mel’s sunburnt grasp. The former cities (North York, Toronto, Etobicoke, Scarborough, East York and the City of York) combined into the megacity November 1997, with Mel squeaking by Barbara Hall in the megacity mayoral race.

But the reason I think the arts community should be excited for Miller’s ascension to the mayor’s office is that he and his sympathetic councillors have shown a strong understanding that arts and culture can shape the soul of a city. Miller spoke easily and eloquently about “the beautiful city” at the Trampoline Hall lecture series during the campaign. And two years ago, as a city councillor, Miller helped save one of the music scene’s most important communication tool — the poster — from being outlawed.

Some of you will remember all the hoopla surrounding the city’s proposed anti-postering bylaw. Back in April 2002, a new bylaw was proposed that would allow us to put up posters only on collared utility polls — city staff suggested that 1% of the city’s polls, down from 100%, was a sufficient enough number to be affixed with the collars. The City of Toronto had the very eager support of the snooty and upscale Bloor-Yorkville Business Improvement Association (the GAP, Holt Renfrew, Armani, Chanel, Chapters, etc.) who wanted all postering to be banned, but could live with the 1% amnesty. Anyone caught breaking the bylaw would be fined $60 for each infraction.

Amazingly, community organizations banded together, led by the Toronto Public Space Committee (disclosure: I’m intimately involved with the TPSC) and stopped the bylaw at city council, with the help of councillors like Miller, Olivia Chow and former councillor-turned NDP federal leader Jack Layton. The TPSC is in the midst of confirming if Miller is still against the anti-postering bylaw.

Toronto’s thriving indie music scene should pay close attention to this issue because no one wants to be putting up posters for a gig and find themselves with hundreds of dollars in fines from some over-caffeinated cop.

This spring, city staff are due to give their report on public consultations and outline any amendments it has made to the proposed new bylaw.

As a group, the music scene needs to come together and speak to their city councillors about how this could have a negative effect to the business of clubs and on our music scene. We need to reach out to club bookers and bands to let them know that one of our main means of communicating with the rest of our community will be coming under attack once again this spring.

As an aside, a federal election will be coming our way in May, or so the rumour mill predicts, and there is no better way than voting to make it perfectly clear to politicians how you feel about them. Most of them seem like shallow, opportunistic hyenas, but try to figure out which candidate in your riding best suits your outlook on life/politics. If none of them do, go the voting centre on election day and spoil your ballot. Ask the voting officer what to do. Not voting gives me and anyone else the right to say, “shut the fuck up” to you any time you complain about politics. A spoiled ballot is tabulated and sends a message that there are people disenfranchised by our electoral system.


m@b’s opinions on music and politics will appear sporadically according to the whims of Wavelength’s editors.

BY M@B