The Making,
Breaking & Remaking of the Area's Greatest Arts Celebration
http://www.sonoarts.org
By Brita Brundage
Every summer for the past 26 years, the city of
Norwalk has allowed a rag-tag group of volunteers to shut down the main
streets and hold a giant art party. Hundreds of exhibiting artists pour in
from around the country with hopes of selling their expensive masterpieces
of canvas, clay, wood and steel. Folk musicians and funk bands play their
hearts out for midday crowds of mothers pushing strollers, wide-eyed
hippies and well-dressed seniors. A huge Chinese dragon swoops down
Washington Street surrounded by a giant green caterpillar and 10-foot-tall
red- and purple-faced puppets. There are classical dancers, African
drummers, and independent film screenings. Chaos barely contained.
While the Oyster Festival, to its credit, is
neck-and-neck with SoNo Arts in terms of longevity, it's nowhere near as
self-sufficient. The Oyster Festival benefits from the substantial backing
of the SoNo Seaport Association, while SoNo Arts has no cushioning
sponsor. The Oyster Festival charges hefty fees at the gate, and then
sells tickets for any concessions. SoNo Arts is entirely free. The Oyster
Festival has no visual art or performing art, no dance, no crafts, no
puppets, no stilt-walkers. And unlike SoNo Arts, it's entirely gated,
offering little, if any, spillover business to surrounding restaurants and
shops.
Granted, both festivals are fun--they're outdoor,
summer events that draw lots of outsiders to South Norwalk, a city once
better recognized for its gun fights and prostitution. But the distinction
is important because the fact is that the Oyster Festival is a moneymaking
operation. Not only does the SoNo Arts Celebration keep hosting a
community arts festival each year for free, depending entirely on
over-worked volunteers, but it's running up a substantial debt, is
threatened by inner turmoil and is nearly about to come apart at the
seams. All while providing countless economic and cultural benefits to the
city and artists it promotes.
Former SoNo Arts president and a longtime volunteer
until last year, Pam Stark, has now joined Norwalk's government as City
Clerk and offers an inside look at the festival's evolution and local
impact.
"It does bring a lot of people in," Stark said. "And
it brings people right into South Norwalk as opposed to some of the other
festivals that bring them to the outer edges of Norwalk."
And though Marcia Powell, publicity spokesperson for
the SoNo Business Association, says she can't quantify the festival's
economic impact, she's sure that it's significant.
"When people come down for the festival, they become
familiar with the area, they see what new places are there that they
haven't been to, they discover the variety of attractions, shopping, food
choices available in the area and they come back," says Powell. "People
are out on the street, they're walking around...they're having a good time
and it predisposes them to coming back."
In keeping with Powell's predictions, last year's
25th anniversary SoNo Arts Celebration was the biggest production to date.
With seven chairpersons, 45 committee members, 56 music and dance
performers spread over five stages and more than 200 fine art exhibitors,
the weekend was a volunteer effort of Herculean proportions. Nearly
100,000 visitors miraculously found parking spaces in time to join the
celebration under the hot sun, wove through booths and soaked in sounds
oblivious to the internal struggles that were already threatening the
integrity of the greatest show in town. When not-quite-qualified
volunteers and not-quite-money-minded artists come together, conflicts are
inevitable. The crisis of last year's money and management problems that
led to the resignation of several board and committee members last
November only brought to a head problems that had been brewing beneath the
SoNo Arts surface for years. Many feared that this year the festival would
simply self-destruct. Though current president Kevin Bowler insists that
the celebration is still on solid ground, festival insiders like James
Barnes, chair of the SoNo puppets for the past six years, were not so
confident. "There are lots of people thinking that it's not going to
happen," he said in a recent interview.
SoNo Arts Celebration Inc., became a non-profit
corporation in 1986, not long after Collin's Development had been hired by
Norwalk to redevelop the entire downtown area. The development group had
substantially supported the artist-run festival which, at that time,
consisted of local visual artists and their musician friends holding a
modest street festival each year that succeeded in turning around
Norwalk's damaged image as a haven for crime and depravity. Many of those
initial artists resided in the Lock Building, which was sold to Spinnaker
Companies of Stamford two years ago for a cool $3.3 million. The building
is now a corporate technology center, thanks in no small part to the Lock
artists who convinced the city and the developer that historic property
was a better value than
a parking lot. Those same artists who brought the city such profitable
image-revision, of course, were quickly forced to move elsewhere.
While many artists couldn't afford Norwalk's newly
elevated rents, they continued to support the SoNo Arts Celebration
because it was a grassroots effort that symbolized the free art and
culture they so avidly believed in. Barnes, who had devoted countless
hours of his life making larger-than-life puppets for others'
entertainment, said of the festival, "It's a great thing for a group of
friends to do. When it goes well, it's magic.
It makes you glow."
Once a local street festival, the overall vision for
what SoNo Arts could offer over the two-day weekend grew substantially.
Nationally, exhibiting artists recognized the festival as a top-notch
event with the ability to draw in Fairfield County's wealthier residents.
"The artists thought of this as one of the premiere
shows in America," said Len Freas, a professional artist who joined the
festival three years ago as a judge and last year chaired the exhibiting
arts committee. The volunteers sought more notable music acts over the
years as well. Acoustic Café owner Rich Franzino has helped raise the
awareness of the singer-songwriter stage featuring rising talents like
jazz-influenced Laura Chandler, multi-instrumentalist Erin McKeown and
musical mystics Gandalf Murphy and the Slambovian Circus of Dreams last
year.
"The singer-songwriter stage is probably the most
successful part of the festival," said Dan Forte, who chaired both the
performing arts committee and the treasury last year. "The musicians are
so psyched to be there...they got between $150 and $200 when they're used
to getting $1,500 to $2,500 because they like Rich."
While on the surface the festival seems a resounding
success, the bigger acts, expanded stages, overnight police officers, fire
trucks, electricians, tent rentals, parking issues and permits cost a lot
of money. As a result, ongoing debt became part of the SoNo Arts process.
Current president Bowler had an earlier SoNo presidential term from
1988-89, and says he inherited an $18,000 debt from previous organizers
even then. Kathyrn Hebert, from Norwalk's Department of Public Works, made
it her mission to pull the festival out of debt during the following two
years ('90-'92) and successfully moved it into the black. Her job was made
easier by one of the biggest sponsors at that time, Caldor, which has
since gone out of business leaving SoNo Arts with a $25,000 deficit that
has yet to be filled. Other sponsors who have gone bust or bowed out
include priceline.com and Sobe. According to Bowler, the festival's
current debt is once again at $18,000, with an additional $18,000 in
credit from Fleet Bank. The money, he says, is owed to "police and a
handful of contractors," many of whom have been lenient with the
organizers knowing that they are a non-profit whose work has helped the
city of Norwalk tremendously.
The only truly contentious part of the current debt
comes from a decision last year to pay for a loft space for the SoNo
Puppets. Until last summer, no members of the SoNo Arts Celebration had
received financial assistance. Over the five- year involvement with the
festival, the puppets had operated as a completely volunteer effort
requiring the sort of tedious full-time commitment that went far beyond
mere organization. The puppets, quite simply, are a huge artistic endeavor
and, with only a handful of truly involved participants, most notably
James Barnes and Pete Pezzimenti, the pressure to single-handedly put on
the "Incredible Puppet Parade" each year was enormous. For three years
previous, SoNo Arts had been storing the puppets for free in a large
former dance studio at 50 Washington St. When that became a U.S. patent
office last year, Bowler, co-president Toni Williams and the SoNo Puppet
volunteers had to act quickly.
"We needed a space to store them and to create some
[new puppets] for that year," said Williams. "Around February last year,
we had a truck with the puppets on a family member's property...Kevin was
actively looking for a space and came across what looked like an
opportunity with Urban Young Life and the space on Day Street."
While other board members apparently knew of the
"puppet crisis," they were not aware that Bowler signed a short-term lease
agreement for June through August with Mac McNally, regional director of
Young Life, for the space on Day Street. After spending $4,000 for the
first month and security, the organization lacked the funds to finish
paying its rent. According to Len Freas, he was not aware of the budget
deficiency until he was handing out first place awards to winning artists
and was told by Bowler that there would be no checks to accompany them as
promised. Freas, whose main interest was the quality of the exhibiting
artists and the air of constant professionalism, was beside himself.
"Some of these people didn't make their costs and a
check would've made all the difference in the world," he said. "To this
date, they have never paid the artists their prize money and that's the
biggest reason I quit. I was just fed up."
Barnes, who only recently has been able to gain
access to the many puppets locked up at the Day Street location pending
back-rent payment, was even more frantic. He, too, resigned from the board
last October, sending a despondent email to other members. In part, that
letter read: "The work and time required by the SoNo Puppets and the
Incredible Puppet Parade is...greater than any other single component of
the SoNo Arts Celebration...I am at a stage where it is not of interest to
me to 'start again.' SoNo Puppets and the Incredible Puppet Parade is
dead...This has not been about producing one parade a year, it has been
about creating a vital touring company."
Barnes' longtime hope for his puppet performance
group was that it might expand into a year-round operation that generated
funds through performances at regional festivals and local
puppet-making/performing workshops. His work was so intrinsically tied to
the SoNo Arts Celebration that he had to ask the board, in the same email,
to transfer the ownership of the puppets, supplies and tools to him. They
agreed. Now Barnes has turned his puppet group into a separate company
called Waking Dream, and says, "I feel like we're still in limbo, like
we're just starting." Besides a dilapidated space with a leaky ceiling on
Martin Luther King Dr. in Norwalk where some of the puppets are stored, he
and his crew have no place to actively work on and develop more puppets.
Other board members and volunteers who had been
intimately involved with SoNo Arts in the past have felt similarly
betrayed by the organization. Mike Potashnick, who was a co-president with
Pam Stark's husband Shelly Guyer from 1999-2000, left dissatisfied after
14 years of volunteer service to the festival. In his (and others') views,
the co-president model which began with Pam Stark and Heather Dunn in
1997, was ineffective. Potashnick, who works as a production manager with
Terrapin and independently for other festivals, brought many of his
workers in to help with the SoNo Arts Celebration, to do the grunt work of
set-up and break down so crucial to the event's success.
"You really need to have one person in charge," said
Potashnick. "He [Guyer] came from a bank world at Merril Lynch. I went to
school for theater, being into acting, music and production. It was the
classic clash of money versus art."
As a result of the tension, Potashnick left, as did
many of the Terrapin volunteers. While he says his folks were willing to
do work at no charge for which they would normally receive $2,000-$3,000,
they expected a pleasant working environment. Instead, Potashnick said,
"There was no appreciation. They were not treated well."
Communication has been an enormous problem--between
the people on the board, between the board and the volunteers and between
the organization and the city of Norwalk. Many of the volunteers involved
with the SoNo Arts Celebration have bemoaned the lack of support from the
city they serve.
"I think the city could be much more supportive,"
said Forte, who has moved to Long Island to organize another festival
(though he continues to handle treasury duties until they find a
replacement). "If the city wants someone on the board to be a
liaison...this event could have longevity."
It at least seems reasonable that the city might
provide the SoNo Arts Celebration with the additional police officers and
fire personnel needed for the event at no charge. After all, the festival
is non-profit, completely volunteer, a huge draw to the region and an
economic windfall for local businesses. Mayor Alex Knopp has built his
entire campaign on the arts foundation, creating a Mayor's Arts Council,
which Pam Stark, City Clerk and former SoNo Arts president, fundraiser and
volunteer, will run.
"Knopp has mentioned the celebration," says Barnes,
"and he's promoting the arts. Norwalk has a karmic debt to the community
after the Lock building."
Though Stark has used her involvement in the
festival as leverage to gain a city government position, she is unwilling
to draw a distinction between the SoNo Arts Celebration and other local
events.
"SoNo Arts is not the only major festival that could
use some assistance from the city," said Stark, "and we don't have it for
any of them...We are one of their vendors. They need to purchase services
from us, for police and fire and permits and things like that."
Williams, who is taking a less-involved role in the
festival this year after having to devote more time to her job as director
of diversity at Greens Farms Academy in Westport, saw hope for more city
involvement, at least in terms of retiring the debt that the festival
owes.
"The challenge for us is that our event is still
free," wrote Williams in a recent email, "and it seems as if our major
expenses left to pay are related to charges from the city of Norwalk.
Additional support from the city is necessary and we hope the city will
consider absorbing some of the outstanding charges in an effort to assist
us in our current financial challenges."
But Stark, who had for years devoted a substantial
portion of her own time to raising funds promoting and sustaining the SoNo
Arts Celebration, now seems hardly to remember her past commitment. "The
same rules apply to everybody," she said. "Pay your bills."
While the city's position may be unbending toward
the festival, dealing yet another disheartening blow to the SoNo Arts
organizers, Bowler is already making the necessary adjustments to rein in
expenses. What he and remaining organizers realized was that they needed
to return the SoNo Arts Celebration to its grassroots beginnings by
including more local arts groups, artists, musicians and restaurants. This
year, the group is losing the stage in the Brewhouse parking lot, saving
the festival thousands of dollars, and hosting a more modest enterprise
with high-rises in the Amberjacks lot. This new stage will focus heavily
on the area's many talented local bands and musicians. Bowler wants to
bring down the number of exhibiting artists this year as well by trimming
the number to 175. They've already received 175 applications for artists'
booths and anticipate more in coming weeks. Most artists, Bowler relates,
were pleased with their experiences at the festival--many of those who
were owed checks simply deducted the amount from this year's booth fees.
One artist reviewed last year's festival in Sunshine Artist, America's
Premiere Show and Festival Magazine, writing, "This is my first year as an
exhibitor at this show and I really enjoyed it. Quality is top-notch and
the crafts committee should be commended. Nice job SoNo!"
In addition, the SoNo Arts Celebration will not have
food vendors this year. Instead, they will invite local restaurants to
sell their own food outside their doors, making the festival truly
all-inclusive and adding a taste-testing component for visitors who can
sample the offerings from some of Fairfield County's best restaurants.
What looked to be a nearly failed operation is attracting new members and
new life, and Barnes and his crew are already at work on new puppets for
this year's parade.
"Tales of my death are greatly exaggerated," said
Bowler with a laugh, quoting Mark Twain. If nothing else, the positive
spirits are back, and those involved in the festival have weathered the
storm and have no intention of jumping ship now. Of course, they could
always use assistance, and if you're local, dedicated, artistic,
money-minded or in any way feel you could contribute, get in touch with
the organizers at info@sonoarts.org.
This year's SoNo Arts Celebration may not be a special anniversary but,
for those inside who are bringing it to life, it's sure to be an enormous
triumph.
Brita Brundage can be reached at
bbrundage@fairfieldweekly.com
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