Showing posts with label Houston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Houston. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The 'Houston Factor' and Second Seating

The Houston Chronicle published Ed Wulfe's op-ed piece yesterday and it sure takes me back to the days when Ed was on the Greater East End District board of directors. "Make (the) most of the Houston factor" is vintage Wulfe, an optimist, salesman and visionary like few others. I used to call him when a hard vote was coming before the district board and urge his attendance because his spirit could move the room in what I considered the 'right direction.'

Ed always said you never gave up until you'd asked at least seven times and I've found that a sure fire way to get things done. In fact, that's why I am writing about Ed's op-ed. It explains why 'Second Seating' is working so well. This art installation is definitely a Houston kind of show. 'Second Seating' is enterprising, based on commerce and industry. Houston's a business town, built with oil, yes, but built by developers who had visions of what it could be.


'Second Seating' is a lot like Houston. The idea was a vision that appeared shortly after I left my job as president of the Greater East End District. I knew a lot about East End businesses and the people who ran them. It seemed a natural thing to turn their products into art, thereby promoting the East End community I've grown to love.

It also seemed natural to ask for their help. I've spent a year asking for it all: money, in-kind services, advice, product and collaborations. Never doubting that in most cases, their answer would be yes. And the answer has been yes, far more times than I've heard the word no. And when I do hear a no, I simply wait awhile and think of another way to ask. And ask again. That's following Ed's 'seven times' idea.

'Second Seating' is working. I raised almost enough money to do just about anything I need to do for the exhibition. I've engaged half a dozen other artists who are skilled in painting, ceramics, assemblage. 'Second Seating' has partnerships with Houston Community College Eastside and with Ripley House-Neighborhood Centers, Inc. I found a studio space up on Harrisburg in which to work. I got a grant from The Idea Fund, a program of Diverse Works funded by The Andy Warhol Foundation.

And I found reasons that inspired well over a dozen East End companies to partner with me to make 'Second Seating' a reality. Who could ask for more? Is it hard work? You bet. But, it's also like playing a wonderful game, racking up points, securing a position, relying on others, fostering appreciation, giving lots of thanks to all the players. There are so many that are making it happen.

Here's what Ed wrote and I agree with every word. It works for me.

"Positive energy and passion go a long way — the Houston Factor. So, what’s your mindset? Are you working on expanding your network? We live in a friendly and open city. Now, more than ever, you should be reaching out and growing your relationships and contacts in your field and in our civic and cultural community.
Houstonians know how to work harder and understand that you must be aggressive and make things happen. They know they need to add value. That’s the Houston Factor. They understand the need to get out there and concentrate on what you’re doing and on your business, whether you are an employee or employer.
Houstonians believe in themselves, their business, and their city. They are leaders and innovators who are eager to learn more and grow as a person. Now is when you must become better informed and better equipped. Build your skills. Volunteer and help others. Be a team player. Be both responsive and responsible. That’s the Houston Factor. Besides your business and job, are you marketing yourself? Most people don’t look at themselves as a brand. And they don’t consider how to market that brand. We all should be doing that and, at the same time, marketing the Houston Factor."

Ed Wulfe askes, "Are you envisioning what’s next? Visioning is a big part of the Houston Factor. Where do you want to be when this ends? Because it will end and we’ll be back in new ways for exciting times. Houstonians are always ready to seize the moment. We have the Houston Factor on our side. Are you capitalizing on it?"

Yes. That's my answer.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

The Real Houston

'Seeing the East End for the first time again' is an old article written by Houston Business Journal's Bill Schadewald that really identifies some of the character of this oldest part of Houston. I remember reading the piece when it was originally published in 2000. Just came across it again when I Googled for East End coffee processing in an effort to get some up-to-date facts and figures on one of our neighborhood's major industries.
I like Schadewald's last sentence, "Economic conditions may ebb and flow, but the East End will always be one of the first places to go to find the real Houston."
That statement certainly contains one of the inspirations for 'Second Seating.' Too few people know where Houston's heart lives. Maybe a group of artists and East End businesses can change that lapse of knowledge. We're working on it.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Reflections on Second Seating, The Blog

What was I thinking as I wrote yesterday’s post? The words seem formal, giving information, yet holding back the names of the artists that I’ll be working with as well as the East End companies that will, with luck, support the making of fantasy table dinner tables that incorporate their brand, be it coffee, milk or cake. As I said, in time all will unfold. The first post was an attempt to give a ‘word picture’ of what is essentially, at this moment, a concept. There is so much more inside my head - images and bits of text, potential donors, promotional ideas, contact lists.

There is a whole lot outside of my head too that includes a growing cache of random dinner plates from garage sales, tables and funky chairs from resale shops, blue wine bottles, coffee mugs, a stack of twenty white tablecloths from a friend in Minnesota, candelabra, varied vases and bowls and an expanding trove of photographs that hint of things to come. I am seeing great swaths of tablecloths hung across the ceiling, reflecting projected images of dinner past. I see enormous chandeliers made from dozens of tin and aluminum cans, shells and broken pottery.

I’ve been mulling ideas for this installation for almost a year now. I am no longer sure of just how or when the original spark of an idea occurred, though my original word document on the subject is dated November 30, 2007 and is overrun with stream of consciousness verbiage that, upon rereading, now simply adds more ideas to my mental file cabinet.

Suffice it to say that on this bright morning that calls to me, “Go walk before it is too muggy and ozone-y,” that my autumn days will be well filled with preparations for ‘Second Seating.’ I consider the process to be similar to preparations for a great feast, a visual feast and with any luck, a thought provoking feast. For the last week or so I’ve focused on oyster shells and for good reason.


The McGrady’s and I gathered fresh oysters in Lilliwaup little over then days ago. And a big box of oyster shells and styrofoam popcorn is somewhere in the mail between Seattle and Houston. I couldn’t leave the shells behind. No, I see those oyster shells piled high on a heavy laden dinner table. The oysters themselves have been consumed. They are gone.

The table is beautiful, overrun with silver scallop shells, empty too and resting among the spent oyster shells. Silver candelabra no longer cast light on iced and quivering oysters or on the diners who enjoyed them. The dinner is over, for real and metaphorically. The message of the empty oyster shells? Well, the fate of our oceans. Tuna is tainted, species near lost and seas are rotting with poison run off. The table is beautiful, but at what cost?

The message of this dinner table is a long way from Lilliwaup, WA, where we shared a warm family time and the oysters were gathered by three generations. That pleasant afternoon encourages a call to action for our oceans. I’ll be visiting with the Galveston Bay Foundation and other groups so that this ‘Second Seating’ dining table will be not only beautiful, but will offer us responsible and perhaps uncomfortable answers to our dilemma with the oceans.

This is the table I am thinking about today.


Tuesday, September 2, 2008

What Is It All About?


‘Second Seating’ is an art installation scheduled to open in spring 2009 in a metal shop/ warehouse on the eastern edge of downtown Houston. ‘Second Seating, Houston’, the blog, will document the making of this installation. Designed as a series of elaborate fantasy dinner tables, ‘Second Seating’ will be created with cast off furniture, found and recycled objects, vintage table linens and silver flatware, assorted china, crockery, Coke bottles and oyster shells, paint and paper, all mixed with text and photo imagery.

‘Second Seating’ refers to the practice of turning tables at restaurants in order to serve more diners and thus, the title becomes a metaphor for second chances, the passage of time, fulfillment and memory. ‘Second Seating’ also references the revitalization of Houston’s East End with it ’second time around’ possibility.


With an installation, an artist often uses a particular space as an integral part of the work. Setting fantasy dinner tables in an unused warehouse and using raw and recycled materials from East End businesses and industry suggests that both the space and the resultant art work will purposely reflect its origins and indirectly deliver information about a specific community as manifested through a collaboration among several artists.

‘Second Seating’ will both celebrate the vibrancy of the East End community and highlight the vision of a group of artists who, using common materials, create uncommon beauty and a dreamlike environment that is poignant, whimsical and wise.

This blog will chart the making of ‘Second Seating.’ Please join us as we begin to gather the materials that, when assembled together, will make magic of whatever you thought about dining.

More details about individual tables and specific artist’s work will unfold - just like grandmother’s old fashioned, hard to iron linen table cloths.