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Artomatic is one of the more polarizing events the District has to offer. Some critics see the five-week festival as a cattle call for wannabes — pay $99 and show your work to the world. Others see it as an opportunity for little-known talent to reach important players in the D.C. area art community. Catriona Fraser, the owner of Bethesda's Fraser Gallery, sees both points of view.
"I have always been a huge supporter of Artomatic," she says. "I think anything we can do in this region to bring artists together and engage the public so that they actually pay attention to art is wonderful."
"It's very overwhelming. There's a lot of very bad art," she admits. "I just picked the work that wasn't necessarily technically the best, but was new to me and stood out for different reasons."
What stood about photographer Frank Turner's black and white prints wasn't expert composition — Turner has been shooting for only six months. Rather, it was what he chose to put in front of the camera. When his mother died in February, Turner considered giving up his new-found love. Instead, he used it as a coping mechanism. A series on death and aging includes frames of his mother's ashes sitting on a counter, his mother laying in a casket, and the day-to-day struggles of his 92-year-old stepfather.
On the other end of the spectrum, Andrew Zimmerman has been engaged in photography for 11 years. His black and white landscapes cover the terrain of Colorado, Virginia and New Zealand. In the age of megapixels, Zimmerman takes pride in his traditional 4 by 5 and 8 by 10 compositions as well as his darkroom wizardry. He believes newer technologies have caught up with 35mm film, but not with large format processing.
"I have no problem with digital," the Arlington resident says. "Personally, I just don't think the details come through as clearly on digital printouts."
One installation has earned an especially large amount of attention. When Deb Jansen exhibited "Catharsis & Karma" at Artomatic, she didn't consider that it would live on. But the bitter letter to her ex-husband's lover and the "skank dolls" she constructed to represent her anger connected with both women and men.
"When I wrote on the wall, I felt that it was just me and her," Jansen recalls. "But on the last night of installation, a crowd started to gather and they never went away."
Jansen also suffers from advanced Lyme disease. Doctors have traced her symptoms back to 1991, but the official diagnosis came just a few years ago. The ailment left the once successful graphic designer unemployable. Medication helps with physical symptoms, but Jansen still has problems with memory and organizing her thoughts. As the disease progressed, her husband grew more distant.
"He never thought I was really sick, even when I couldn't sign my name," she says. "He thought it was just a personality quirk."
Another personal body of work belongs to Jennifer Bishop. The government publications manager from Bethesda offers a pair of paintings that reflect memories of giving birth to her son Peter in February. Being selected by Fraser has encouraged Bishop to keep using what she learned while earning a fine arts degree from Cornell.
"I'm headed in a concrete direction," she says. "This is a validation of that."
One piece, "The Cesarean Section," depicts Bishop looking down at a blue cloth during the procedure. Part of the reason she picked the subject matter was to shed light on a process that some view as typical.
"It's not just a simple thing," Bishop says. "The fact is, most births have some sort of medical mediation."
The 34-year-old is still amazed by the miracle of giving life. She goes so far as to call it "magic."
"You kind of panic and freak," Bishop says. "But you just have to go with it."
Her husband, Andrew Notarian, has shown great support for his wife's work, but for obvious reasons, he cannot relate to the experience. Fraser can.
"I also went through an emergency C-section, so I can sort of connect to it," she says. "But really, it was the strength of her painting. I think she handled it very well."
Representing the fresh-out-of-art-school crowd, Molly Sheldon created one of the show's stranger pieces. Her untitled sculpture is a mix of fiberglass, wood, fur and antlers. Sort of a half woman-half deer figure, it's a collision of the organic and the synthetic. The antlers came from an ex-boyfriend. The fur was the result of a thrift store hunt for unwanted winter coats. The effort proved to be more fruitful than her original plan. At first, Sheldon gathered material by skinning road kill.
"I'm interested in decay," she explains, "the kinds of things that are left over when something dies."
The last couple of months have been a bit overwhelming for Sheldon. The 23-year-old graduated from the University of Mary Washington last December. After Fraser noticed her work, a local collector who normally only invests in established artists purchased the piece.
"Anytime someone wants to buy something, it's exciting," Sheldon says. "That was a big confidence boost."
Sheldon isn't the only 3D artist in the show. Fraser has taken advantage of the efforts of the University of Sunderland's National Glass Centre. She estimates the English institution spends close to $80,000 each year to ship pieces and fly artists to Washington. This year, the Fraser Gallery is presenting glass art by Christine Keers and Joanne Mitchell. Visitors also can check out ceramic work by Andrew Livingstone.
With themes of death, infidelity and decay, the show is serious in tone. For balance, Fraser chose the work of Brian Lusher. His "Presidents" series consists of miniature busts of our nation's leaders dolled up in eye shadow, lipstick and pastel jackets. The figures are humorous, yet also represent the creativity that critical eyes sometimes miss at Artomatic.
"A lot of people think it's a lot of amateurs showing crap, so the better artists don't want to be associated with it," Fraser says. "They think it's a step down, but it really isn't."
"The Best of Artomatic" runs through Aug. 8 at the Fraser Gallery, 7700 Wisconsin Ave., Suite E, Bethesda. Regular gallery hours are Tuesday through Saturday, 11:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Call 301-718-9651 or visit
www.thefrasergallery.com.
