First Fridays: Smile Like You Mean It

The crowds flocked to Jackson Ward night, not because I willed them to, but undoubtedly because of the best First Fridays weather in 2010.

I saw so many new faces and heard so many people talking about this being their first art walk. I also saw a lot of females shivering in cute summer attire as the evening wore on.

I walked right up Henry like I was going to the Belvidere and ducked into Henry Street Gallery for a group show of "Richmond Artists of the 80s."

It was probably my favorite show of the evening. I came to RVA in the late 80s, so I didn't recognize the artists' names, but stylistic ally, I was fascinated.

It didn't look dated, but it didn't look like current work, either. It definitely reflected a different era.

As I was leaving, the guy sitting by the door with a camera asked me stop and smile.

He may have been feeling a little guilty since his job was actually to warn people about the step down as you walk in the door and I'd tripped coming in.

Or maybe he could tell I really liked the show.

At ADA gallery, both John Coburn and Gian Pierotti had created objects that almost, but not quite looked like something in the real world.

It was interesting to dissect my first impression of each piece; no matter how I'd first interpreted it, upon closer inspection it wasn't exactly like it should look if it were that object. It felt a little like a mind f*#k, challenging your perceptions.

Of all things, it was horse-themed art at Ghostptint Gallery.

Some were in full color, but my favorites were in monochromatic shades of brown; they almost resembled Degas drawings for his racetrack paintings.

The show was "What are the Odds?" and Neal Iwan's brushstrokes were a thing of beauty.

Over at Lift, I ran into a friend who lost his front tooth this week to a bungee cord snap-back. He's heard a lot of West Virginia jokes the past few days, but the doctor said most people lose an eye when it happens, so he's actually pretty lucky, if a bit backwoods-looking until the reconstruction process begins.

Cue banjo music.

For anyone who saw the first InLight exhibit in 2008, the star of the show was back tonight.

The "Jackson Ward House," outlined entirely in light tubes was up and attendees were wandering through it in amazement, probably many of them seeing it for the first time.

You can tell that the creator, an Englishman, was as taken with the architecture of the Ward as yours truly.

Art 6 had a group show, all by women and using various formats, including poetry, which I found especially cool.

I believe it was part of the Minds Wide Open initiative currently going on.

I know better than to try to visit my neighborhood restaurants on the first Friday, but I plastered my face to the door at Tarrant's to give my bartender friend a big smile and before I reached the end of the block, was accosted by two of the Bistro 27 staff coming out to say hello and kiss my hand (and no doubt escape the teeming masses inside).

It was a big night for Gallery 5 because they're celebrating their fifth birthday, an enormous accomplishment for any gallery who doesn't receive outside funding.

They have begun their first membership drive and I can't think of a better cause to support than the arts.

It's an ongoing drive, so there's till plenty of time to jump on the G5 bandwagon and do good.

Downstairs was hung with posters made for many of the events at G5 over the past five years.

It was a walk down memory lane, full of reminders of the excellent art, music, poetry, burlesque, dance and film that has come through there.

Upstairs, the theme continued with dozens of photos taken over the last half-decade. Let's just say there were a lot of familiar faces.

Then it was time for music and a four-piece called Haints in the Holler took us on a bluegrass odyssey complete with washboard.

They were followed by Prabir and the Goldrush, usually a three-piece, but recently graduated to a quartet with the addition of a drummer.

Don't worry, they're still a rock band with classical musicians and loads of hooks.

I should mention Prabir's magnificent mane, but he complained to me tonight that the media always does, so it's trite for me to do so.

Consider it done with a smile.