Mad Max (and Liz): Beyond First Friday Dome

By Max Phillips • Originally published on Subject2Change

The minute I heard “the dome” was coming to Lancaster to house First Friday’s After Hours party, I knew I had to attend. I was slated to cover October’s First Friday for the Creative House of Lancaster’s e-zine, and I wanted to include the event at the dome as part of the story. But tickets had sold out before I could get one. 

I took a chance and called Jennifer Baker from the Mayor’s Office Of Special Events (MOOSE), which organized the party. Without hesitation, she offered me two press passes, setting one lucky photographer and me on the road to “domedom.” But first things first.

I started First Friday at Mulberry Art Studios with CHL members Anne Kirby and George Hunter, their son, Austin. CHL member Liz Masters served as the photographer for the evening. I had heard that Mulberry was hosting an art auction that night to benefit Compeer Lancaster. Artwork was to be displayed during First Friday, then auctioned the following Friday. 

Mulberry houses an interesting mix of large and small rooms branching from wide-open spaces and narrow hallways. The crowd was as diverse as the space itself. It included a mix of eager onlookers, curious passers-by, and a group of feisty teenagers attending a high school dance on the second floor. As we peered into room after room of artistic treasures, we met some interesting characters along the way.

Pietro Mantia, a native of Lancaster, is an artist who shows his work internationally. This First Friday, Mantia assembled a diverse group of national artists to show works ranging from delicate silk prints to bulky glass castings. Though none of his work appeared in the show — Mantia cites his busy schedule — he made time to bring this diverse collection to Lancaster. 

One artist, Eva Shelley, told us about her art. Shelley is a glass artist whose work ranges from colorful glass abstractions to larger, industrial-looking sand castings. Shelley cited a family trip to Martha’s Vineyard, that included a visit to a glass-blowing studio, as the root of her interest in glass. “I wasn’t going to college until I found glass blowing,” Shelley told us with confidence.

We bid Mantia and Shelley farewell and continued through Mulberry. On the second floor, we discovered local photographer Matthew Murray. His work captures “the mesmerizing beauty and lost history of the various derelict buildings dotting our country’s landscape,” according to his website, abandonedamerica.org. His images of decrepit buildings and abandoned machinery are both beautiful and haunting. They leave viewers feeling joyful yet somehow empty. 

Murray is a history buff and shared his inspiration for his work. “I think there’s a sort of presence about the places [I photograph] from all the lives that have gone through and all the things that have happened there.”

We had a few more stops to make, so we moved on. As we walked the few short blocks to the Infantree’s space at 21 North Prince Street, we noted that this First Friday felt different. A vibe of excitement percolated through the streets. We made the four-story excursion to the gallery space above the Prince Street Café, joining the crush to take in the amazing works on display. Infantree founder Timothy Hoover welcomed us to the simple, spacious gallery. His large works, along with those of Stephen Procopio and Mipa Lee, mesmerized the masses.

Rounding out our First Friday experience was a trip to see Liz Hess at Gallery 2 and neighboring Christiane David Gallery. Hess, known for her red umbrella collection, was showing off her latest additions to the series. Next door, Christiane David Gallery was filled with bright oils on canvas, eager onlookers, and a small jazz combo that set visitors’ toes tappin’.

A glance at our watches told us that First Friday was drawing to a close as nine o’clock approached. With thoughts of multicolored bubbles in our heads, Liz and I bid farewell to the rest of the gang and set out to enter the dome.

As we approached the party sphere, we could feel pulses of electricity that energized the downtown masses. Pedestrians milled about, and traffic slowed to see the alien craft that had landed in the Lancaster Art Garden. Many looked as if they expected a giant silver robot to emerge from the multicolored structure. The 30-foot tall air-filled structure appeared to be made from a white material, not unlike a parachute, and was illuminated from the inside with ever-changing, colorful lights.

Once inside, the structure seemed less alien-like, with the smooth sounds of Soulful Harmony blasting from the stage. Bartenders served drinks at two lighted bars while waiters refreshed the catered treats in multi-tiered spreads. At first, the crowd was small, and we took the opportunity to work the room and see who we could find. Brian McKee of Shumaker PDT was running the light show that kept the dome glowing. He gladly gave us a demonstration of the lighting system, a combination of LED technology and remote-controlled spotlights stationed around the perimeter that gave him “the ability to easily mix any color you’re looking for on the fly.” 

We watched in amazement as the dome shifted from yellow to pink to lavender, while brilliant shapes danced on the ceiling. MOOSE tapped Shumaker to organize the party and provide “everything you see here, minus the food and the band,” McKee informed us.

On the dance floor — usually a section of the stone path that divides the Art Garden — uninhibited souls began to liven the party with entertaining moves. The crowd swelled, and the dancers multiplied until Mayor Rick Gray took to the stage, welcoming all to the unique event. He bid us to “have a great time, enjoy yourself, enjoy the arts, enjoy Lancaster, and enjoy the music. It’s party time.” The dome dwellers took his advice to heart. After a rousing applause for the party’s organizer, Jennifer Baker, the dance floor once again filled with writhing bodies of all ages, as the din of the crowd increased with party-goers whooping it up.

But all good things must come to an end, and soon our time at the dome was over. (Press were only permitted from 9 p.m. to 10 p.m.) As we made our exit, we spotted three young ladies outside and decided to get their take on the night’s festivities. The former college roommates had come downtown specifically for the party. When asked if they came to First Friday often, Allison of Lancaster said, “every once in a while,” but both Allison and Megan of Harrisburg admitted this was their first time — the dome was definitely the reason to be seen downtown Lancaster this evening. Comparing the art scene in Harrisburg to what they experienced in Lancaster, they admitted, “It seems small … it definitely doesn’t compare.”

Another First Friday had come and gone, this one with a little something extra. In retrospect, it was just a party in a dome. But somehow it seemed special, and certainly something Lancaster has not seen before. Was it a success? On its surface, it seems it was. Will more events of this nature draw the same interest? Who knows? I mean, only a party in a spaceship that actually flies would be a bigger draw. (Good luck with that, Shumaker!) But here’s my parting thought: if an event brings new people downtown, it’s a good thing. Once they’ve had a taste of what Lancaster has to offer, they just might want to come back and experience what lies beyond First Friday’s dome.

Procrastination. It’s a Good Thing?

By Max Phillips • Originally published on Subject2Change

pro·cras·ti·nate

Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): -nat·ed; -nat·ing
Etymology: Latin procrastinatus, past participle of procrastinare, from pro- forward + crastinus of tomorrow, from cras tomorrow
transitive verb: to put off intentionally and habitually
intransitive verb: to put off intentionally the doing of something that should be done
—www.webster.com

I looked it up, and they don’t have a picture of me in the dictionary next to the entry for procrastination. But, if they gave awards for the habit, I’d probably have a room dedicated to proudly display my trophies for wins like Biggest Waste of Time, Funniest Excuse for Not Completing a Project, and Best Supporting Procrastinator. Then again, I probably wouldn’t. Rather, they would be piled in a closet somewhere, waiting for me to get around to putting the display together.

I know I’m not the only person guilty of hitting the snooze on a project or task, but I always figured that I was a particularly heinous offender. The fact that I am currently writing this editorial three days past the publication date is supporting evidence. Now that’s procrastination!

I do have some good news (and no, it’s not that I saved a bucket-load of money with the gecko) it turns out I’m not alone in my addiction to off-putting. I have learned that several CHL members are brothers and sisters of mine at Procrastinators Anonymous, and some are worse off than me! I won’t name names, and the details that led to this conclusion are trivial; what’s important here is that we all do it. While this might not help me out in the “getting things done” department, I do take a perverse pleasure in the knowledge that I’m not alone. Also, I’m certainly not at the top of the heap in this category.

Here’s the point: procrastination can have an upside. As you may have noticed, this issue has been published exactly three days late. I take full responsibility for its delay, another fine example of procrastination. However, putting this issue together late has brought to light the fact that our publishing schedule needs some tweaking. As it turns out, the September issue would have been published on the last day of September, which seems just plain silly. Armed with this new knowledge, the editorial team has decided that issues need to publish prior to the month they cover. In other words, this should have been the October issue, not September. To correct this faux pas, we have named this the September-October issue. Future issues will be released the third weekend of the month, starting in October with the release of the November issue. 

So there you have it, procrastination has actually brought about positive change for Subject2Change. And while some may scoff at the notion and insist we change our habit of delay, I hold firm to my new mantra: procrastination, it’s a good thing!

Cows, Corn, and The CHL

By Max Phillips • Originally published on Subject2Change

Cows and corn. Corn and cows.

This was my mantra late last summer as my partner, and I searched for our new home in Lancaster County. You see, we were in the process of relocating to the area from Buffalo, New York. And while Upstate has its share of both cows and corn, I was clearly not prepared for the sheer volume of both this area has to offer. “Toto,” I thought to myself, “this sure as hell ain’t Kansas.”

I recall a colleague’s reply to an email I had sent out announcing our imminent move. “Lancaster? Pennsylvania? What the fuck will you do in Lancaster, Pennsylvania?” Emphasizing Pennsylvania, because Upstate, too, has a Lancaster. Although, Buffalonians tend to insert a hard “g” in the middle of its suburban sister’s name. A sound that can incite much debate in this area about its proper pronunciation. But that’s a story for another day.

I was eager for the move and the prospect of a new adventure. But I have to admit that a small part of me echoed this sentiment and was anxious to discover what awaited me in “Amish Country.” As our friends back in Buffalo lovingly referred to our new home.

CHL! CHL! CHL!

Flash-forward one year. I am now inspired to chant a new mantra, thanks to the infectious enthusiasm that emanates from the Creative House of Lancaster’s membership. I remember a day back in early June of this year as I cruised the ‘net in a local café, thinking to myself, “there must be more to this area they call Lank-stir.”

That’s when Anne came into my life.

To no avail, I had joined Meetup.com in hopes of connecting with other local artists and designers. (I still am waiting to receive even one scrap of information from this site.) To my great fortune, Anne Kirby found my post and took it upon herself to contact me via MySpace. She then invited me to join the ranks of the Creative House of Lancaster. I eagerly accepted, and the rest, as the cliché goes, is history, my friends.

I wax cathartic. I’ll get to the point.

I have so much enthusiasm for The House and what it can offer Lancaster. The need for this group is palpable, as is evidenced by electricity created at each of our meetings. It’s as if we were all waiting for something exciting to happen, and it finally has. The House has brought together so much talent with such passion to question, observe, explore, push, understand, connect, and, above all, create. Which brings me to why Subject2Change has been formed. As a voice for the Creative House of Lancaster, it is our goal to question, observe, explore, push, understand, connect, and create right along with you.

Welcome to Subject2Change. This is your ‘zine, and we look forward to your input, support, help, criticism — anything you feel like throwing our way. Please drop us a line and share what’s on your mind.

Max Phillips
Subject2Change Editor