Crawling and Climbing and Trying Not to Trip

Blogging the Culture Crawl: second of a bunch.


300 or more artists (the actual number is uncertain, because some artists never registered*, they just hung the yellow balloons outside their doors, instead) opened their studio doors in Strathcona, Vancouver, over the last weekend to the general public. Some of them, it is true, sell from their studios year round, but most display their work elsewhere. We joined the crowds "crawling" from door to door Sunday afternoon.

The weather contributed; it had been raining, but Sunday dawned clear and grew warmer as the day progressed. We dawdled down the streets, cameras in hand.

Most of Laurie's film photos are still in the shop, so I will wait until we have them in hand to pick out the best for you. But for now, I can post about a couple or three visits where I know he took no photos.

I wouldn't have noticed this one, but my granddaughter knew the site. At the back of an unkempt yard, bounded by weeds and a rotting shed, down a crumbling cement walk past doors unpainted for decades, and up two stories worth of rickety outside steps, wooden and a bit slippery, this little critter greeted us:

Some kind of arachnid. Your guess is as good as mine.

Detail of wall on the landing.

The door opened into a tiny space between kitchen/hallway on the left and a small room on the right. This was the living/work/display area for the artist, Christie. A sofa, funky 1930s linoleum on the floor, a display table, two clothes racks, more clothes hung on a wall. Not much else. A sign announced, Ladies*Bridal*Grad. Aha! Jess is thinking of next spring's grad parties already; that's why she knows of this place.

I am not much into clothes; I expected to be bored, a bit. But no: in the window, the Mary Craig's line of jewelry gleamed, with the sunlight streaming through it and the browning oak leaves just outside.



I give you two photos, even though they are similar, because I couldn't choose between them. The second really needs to be seen full size to get the full effect of the layering. Click on it to see what I mean.

The display area was mostly taken up by a line called "Carny Love"; funky dresses, short-shorts, little vests, all made of 1950s-style fabrics. My daughter bought a scarf/collar, which she wore for the rest of the afternoon.

In the mirror, the artist, loving her work.

We left, watching our step on the way down.

Later, up more steps, concrete and just a dozen or so, and down an uneven walkway between two building, single file, in a basement suite, we found a warm, clean haven. Beige carpeting, a wood fire in a glass-fronted stove, creamy walls. And on these walls, framed embroideries, in off-whites. Beautiful, minimalist work; I wished I could have somehow fitted one into my decidedly non-minimalist decor.


These old boxes and books were the only bit of colour in the room. The cups on top are made of embroidered felt. And the light was so strong that it overpowered my poor camera, hiding two of the cups.

Unfortunately, I can't credit these to the artists; I brought home a card, but it seems to have fallen out of my pocket. And they are not listed with the registered "Crawl" participants.

The third fabric artist we found was another non-registered hostess. This one was housed in a second basement apartment, with her door underneath the back staircase of the house. Inside, we were greeted with the aroma of buttered popcorn; Brenn Kapitan, the artist, had laid out individual cups of fresh popcorn, bottles of water and cups of cider for the refreshment of her exhausted visitors. Wonderful! (No-one else, so far, had been so thoughtful, and it was now past sunset.)

Great enthusiasm here: her boyfriend, Andrew Williams, had a table in back, displaying his unique idea for instant heirlooms; tea-light holders made of lumber from vintage homes. Brenn told us all about it, then went on to show off her own sketches and collages, pausing between phrases to greet new visitors and offer them drinks.


Detail of a collage, unfortunately fuzzy because of the jostling of visitors in the narrow room. I really should have gone back and taken several, to be sure. Forks and spoons, old-fashioned dress, money, and ?MacDonald's? There's a meaning here, but what is it?

*Mary Craig writes to tell me that she did register, but too late to get on the website and brochures. And that the studio belonged to her friend Christie, who has the Carny Love line. Mary does the jewelry.

Next: What's inside the Paneficio.