Ann Higbie and Oscar Stremmel were art godparents to the many artists and craftsmen who began and continued to present their works in the outdoor exhibitions at the annual St. James Court Art Show in my hometown of Louisville, Kentucky. Located in the city’s beautiful Old Louisville area, the show grew from a few artists hanging artworks on clotheslines stretched between stately trees to one of the nation’s most prestigious art festivals.
Ann and Oscar knew each exhibitor and respected the many needs required by each to effect a comfortable weekend for arts and crafts sales every first weekend in October. Spouses, families, and friends of artists and craftsmen were welcomed with equal warmth by Ann and Oscar. During the weekend they practiced the social graces of renewing friendships and updating a year’s worth of happenings by spending time in every booth and complimenting new works.
I began exhibiting at the show back in the days when you had to stand on your spot to claim it, a process fraught with territorial demands somewhat like miners in the gold rush days out west.
Shortly after moving to our new home on Illinois Avenue, my sister Jean mentioned a group of artists meeting in the southwest area of town. After meeting the group, I was swiftly drawn into the art show circuit around the area.
Having only a few easels to my name and very few paintings, with the assistance of the Southwest Artists, I ventured forth to the great escapade of standing on a street and talking about my paintings.
That first year, my husband shook his head in disbelief at the early morning chaos and before dawn, dropped me off on the Court. He left me standing there very uncertain as to what fate awaited both of us in this curious undertaking.
Pass or fail, he knew he had opened this painting door months before with the “U.S. Marines At Belleau Wood” painting. To the military staff at the U.S. Naval Station, I was already an accomplished artist. But for the rest of the world, I had that morning unknowingly stepped into a meandering path that would soon become a life journey to prove myself as a mother, an artist, an art teacher, and a person.
I kept thinking of the Belleau Wood work as I warily stood there in the dark. Shapes moved under streetlights and the clatter of strange items being drug and dropped added to my apprehension. “What now?” I wondered.
When the sun came up, the lump that had been on the ground behind me unzipped and a young man crawled out of a warm sleeping bag. After his exit, out trotted his little companion dog.
“Well..” I thought to myself. “If you care about little dogs, you are a pretty safe person for me to be around.”
Next to me, two young men set up a display of Indian Corn. Three ears of corn and one big bow were an attractive item. One of the young men owned a local florist shop and had been selling this product for years. I found out how popular their product was when throughout the day visitors tromped through my area to purchase the autumn decoration.
Sales went so well for the Indian Corn item that the young men had to go to a farm early the next morning to replenish their supplies. They stood there making bows and wiring corn together for the entire weekend.
That first experience of showing my work at St. James. Court was an invaluable as well as a humbling one. I learned so much from meeting the public and was amazed at the compliments for my work. “I can do this!” I told myself. “Of course, I can.”
As coordinator for the Southwest Artists Club, my duties included scheduling and mounting group shows throughout the area. When the position of Executive Galley Director for a non-profit Art Gallery became available, I not only found myself well qualified, I knew that I would enjoy helping other artists attain their goals. There was I discovered, a comradeship in art where strong bonds are formed like the bonds forged in military life.
The St. James Court Art Show provided that pure joy of coming together each year, sharing a hug and a good thump on the back when artists greet their companions on the way with a “so good to know you” smile that presents the message, “I’m glad you are sharing my life!”
So as the years went by all of us exhibitors grew very fond of Ann and Oscar. When Oscar began having arthritis problems with his knees, I saw the opportunity to help him as he had helped others and as Gallery Director, I picked up a sledgehammer and followed in Oscar’s footsteps in staking out the exhibition booths.
The public never sees the measuring adventure, but without it, setup morning would be utter chaos. Returning exhibitors expect to be placed in their same spot with which they had become familiar. Anchoring to a lamp post can in some cases be extremely crucial. If their booth area moves one foot they can become distraught and disorientated. So keeping a booth as near as possible in its previous location is most favored.
The Court has ovals and circles which complicate the process that begins the Monday previous to the show with marking off areas and chalking the spaces. The other days are spent pounding in wooden stakes followed by stapling the artist’s banner to each stake.
St.James Court was known for its controlled and easy setup. When exhibitors roll in with their vehicles on that morning, they are welcomed to a very prepared area.
Entrances to the ovals are decorated with eight-inch PVC archways from which hang colorful banners. Erecting those archways was a feat in itself.
I spent 38 years as an exhibitor at St. James. In my last year, all of my Louisville friends who had been booth operators were no longer displaying here. I coined a phrase for the brochure I wrote to publicize our community art gallery, “Artists leave footprints in the Sands of Time.”
Although those many friends have walked on beyond my sight, as long as their paintings hang on walls, their sculpture works sit on pedestals or their handmade items are treasured, their footprints will be seen and respected. Ann Hifbie and Oscar Stremmel helped to ensure that.