Flat Iron art show draws in large numbers, but ends in disappointment

The “Now You See It, Now You Don’t” art show that was supposed to culminate in a total destruction of the 40 Chicago artists’ murals that coated the walls of the three-story Flat Iron Arts Building in Wicker Park was an anticlimactic attempt to scam the public into forking over a $5 donation at what was listed as a free event. It was an attractive concept, but the public never got what they bargained, or paid, for.

Every first Friday of the month, the Flat Iron hosts a unique artistic event, which usually draws in huge crowds. Part of that reason, other than the attraction to the artwork itself, is because the Flat Iron has a reputation that precedes it. It’s now considered the artistic hub in Wicker Park and surrounding neighborhoods, but it wasn’t always that way.

According to artist William Eaton, the Flat Iron used to have a reputation for being “a craftsy place with a bunch of hippies doing junk,” when the building first emerged in the 1980s. A lot has changed; it’s not full of junk and most of the artists are far from the flower children that infiltrated the place two decades ago. And that’s because in the past couple of years, Flat Iron owner Bob Berger has upgraded the building and drawn in some serious artists. Not to mention the popularity of First Fridays.

On Friday, Feb. 5, 40 Chicago artists were given wall space and a limited palate to create a mural in the building’s hallways that would be painted over white at the end of the showing. The murals were one interlocked and never-ending work of art. It was a beautiful showcase of the talent of some unfortunately indecisive artists.

The other part of the night was a presentation of the artists’ personal galleries. Mediums ranged from sculpture and painting, to cartoon sketches and digital photography. The number of mediums used and variations in each was as large as the number of different personalities creating the art that night. Artist Scotie Cousin, whose wall mural was a silhouette of a man running against a blue and orange background, said the piece took him three weeks to complete. Cousin commented on his piece, “And I don’t know why.”

The murals and the artists’ personal galleries, which looked more like high-priced apartments than art studios, were on display from 6-10 p.m., and at 10 p.m. the artists were supposed to whitewash every inch of painted mural.

But it never happened. When asked when the show would begin, some female artists in black cocktail dresses said they weren’t dressed to paint. At 9:50 p.m., just minutes before the supposed destruction, Flat Iron President Kevin Lahvic, who conceived the idea, was wandering through the halls unsure of what to do. They were unprepared for the amount of people still in the building at 10 p.m., and didn’t want to paint when so many people were walking through the halls.

But the point of the show was for the public to witness the whitewashing of the walls, and the crowd had died down to half the size it was. And how could the Flat Iron be so unprepared for the number of attendees knowing that First Friday events always lure in massive crowds? If they weren’t prepared to handle the capacity, they shouldn’t have promised anything in the first place.

There didn’t seem to be an easy way to organize the art of 40 artists, who displayed radically dissimilar types of work. And if there was an easier way, the Flat Iron failed to execute that. The hallways were difficult to navigate and the amount of artwork in the building was overwhelming.

It was a shame their disorganization drew people away because for some of the newer Flat Iron residents, this was an opportunity to get their names to the public for the first time. But also because the Flat Iron has artistic significance that spreads throughout Chicago, so expectations were high.

This was one First Friday event that failed to meet the demands of the artistic community. Everyone in attendance was building up to the moment the artists would paint over their murals. Cousin said, “That’s part of the beauty; knowing it’s there and then it won’t be.” And for something the artists claimed to be so passionate and excited about, they didn’t seem concerned that nothing was happening when the clock struck ten.