Sausalito celebrated its 63rd annual art festival this labor day weekend. To be more accurate, other people celebrated an art festival that happens to be located in Sausalito. Sausalito residents certainly weren’t celebrating the traffic, loud music, or even the festival itself. The Sausalito Art Festival, despite it’s name, has very little to do with Sausalito.
After waiting in line and gaining admission (for 25 dollars), my expectations were a little high and unfortunately, were not met. Wading through a crowd that looked like it should be at an Eagles reunion concert; I reached the first artist’s stand which was filled with paintings. This stand looked exactly like the next, which in turn looked exactly like the third. I grew excited when the fourth artist’s stand differed from the prior three; however, my mood fell when the only things in the tent were $700 jackets and dresses costing a few thousand dollars.
I did enjoy a few of the artists such as  one who had Chairman Mao on a Warhol-esque label with an advertisement for some item that could be purchased from an infomercial. There were six canvases all with the same painting but with different goods. No discernable meaning came to me except a vague and worn out statement on capitalism and communism. Or the 41 dollar ceramic teaspoon which (unintentionally) brought a whole new meaning on the phrase “Silver-Spooner”.
The best moment by far came when I first saw the “Official Festival Poster,” by photographer Thomas Barbey, who depicted the Trans-America Tower next to the Eiffel Tower and a hand coming out of a cloud that appears to paint the Eiffel Tower. All of this was in black and white. It was rather amusing how many clichés he managed to shove into one poster. But then I read his blurb in the festival pamphlet: “Every single one of his images has to pass what he likes to call the ‘So what?’ test…At times, he tries to combine images and sometimes the results can be disappointing. A giant clock in the middle of the ocean can be an unusual image, but if he looks at it and says to himself, ‘So what?’ this means it isn’t good enough.”
The irony of the comment was not lost on me considering the fact that his work looked like it was out of a clothing ad, though that seemed to be lost on everyone else. The phrase “so what” also seemed vaguely familiar until I realized it was my freshman English teacher’s favorite phrase in respects to essays. It was disheartening that this artist shared the same favorite phrase as my english teacher.
I’m not writing this to diminish the work of the artists. Their work is impressive and it is amazing when one is successful in such a difficult field. But this particular collection was banal. The art didn’t challenge, it didn’t push, and it didn’t amaze. I saw the same painting of apples maybe six times and each time I was as bored as the last. I wasn’t bored by the craftsmanship, which was impeccable, but by how, as art, it utterly failed to challenge or excite the viewer.
The highlight of the festival was leaving. While walking home, I saw an art stand run by Bo, a local artist whose crude but colorful paintings on various scraps of wood were a refreshing change from the art as interior design that filled the festival.
My intent is not to bash the Sausalito Art Festival. In truth, it’s fine for what it is. But what it is, is not Sausalito, nor should it be. Sausalito has a fantastic history of “outsiders” challenging the status quo: a former mayor who ran a brothel, a Hollywood star who packed up his family and sailed to Tahiti, a playground for rock stars, poets on houseboats, and artists scratching out a living on the edges. But the festival has none of that. It’s a high-dollar affair with $18 glasses of champagne and art ready for the walls of Tiburon mansions.