Tuesday, January 22, 1985
David Hessekiel
NORTH HAVEN-Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec frequented the seamy nightspots of Paris for inspiration. Edgar Degas observed graceful ballerinas for artistic stimulation. When Beverly Richey wants to get her creative juices going, she makes nocturnal trips to the 24 hour Waldbaum's Food Mart.
The cavernous store contains many meanings and messages for the iconoclastic Richey, who's art often focuses on the manipulation of consumers. Packaging and displays often reveal cultural secrets to her analytic eye.
"I like them to show me what I need to have. What the American dream is about," Richey said with a wry grin as she entered the store's warmth and fluorescent glow on a cold, windy winter night.
Seasonal motifs (she said pointing out a valentine display) tell us what holidays are coming up-and who we ought to buy something for. Tantalizing coupons and store specials tell us what is cheap today and often lead to unnecessary impulse purchases as we stroll the aisles.
Studying this supermarket, where one can buy everything from vinegar to videotape, Richey said she learns a great deal about what is happening far beyond its electronic doors.
"You can tell what is going on in the world. Say raisins are expensive. That means there's been a drought in California. Citrus is high; that's a frost in Florida," she said. Coffee and sugar prices reflect the economies of third world nations. The check out counter magazines shout the names of whoever is famous this week.
Richey's supermarket forays have lead to such works as portraits of Cascade dish washing powder and Comet cleanser; series of Richey coupons; and an ongoing series called "Let Them Junk," meetings at which Richey feeds people junk food.
Just as the source of Richey's inspiration differs from that of conventional artists, her concept of art contrasts sharply with establishment ideals.
If a gallery wants to mount a Richey retrospective someday, it will have a hard time finding examples of her work. Art, to Richey, is not something to simply be hung on a wall, a commodity to be bought and sold. "Art is an integrity, it's a way of approaching life."
The average Richey artwork-if there is such a thing-is a multimedia event combining traditional and untraditional art materials such as food, plastic, paint; a site; spoken and written words; and, most of all, people.
One example is "Eat Audubon Street," A junk food model Richey created last September as a comment on the proposed development of that street by the Arts Council of Greater New Haven. Employed as the council's public relations director since last summer. Richey says she is deeply concerned with the direction of that Street development. Audubon Street's emphasis should be on space for art and artists, not high priced boutiques, offices and apartments, she said.
Richey presented "Eating Audubon Street" at the Long Wharf Awards Ceremony in order to catch the eyes of many of New Haven's art patrons. The desktop-size piece "involved people participating by eating, taking and packaging, junk food together," said Richey
Built over an architectural plan of the Audubon Street proposal, the model was built with $125.00 worth of junk food, purchased by Richey.
"It contained Chunkies, Junior Mints, Sugar Daddies, Fireballs, and any other kind of junk candy you can imagine," said Richey. "The neighborhood music school had prunes on top. the (proposed) office building had a base built out of Top Choice dog food...People understood that I was making a statement about the arts center."
Presented with mock Monopoly cards describing escalating Audubon Street real estate prices (rents rose depending on whether Audubon Street held an office building, boutique, or parking garage), the piece "was designed to help people understand that Audubon Street belongs to the people," she said.
"Children, artists, and patrons all ate Audubon Street together," she recalled. "All of them were eating but because they are all human beings, none of them could hold on to it. They would all have to let go it eventually."
Because her creations are so transient, Richey considers documentation critical. she maintains an archive of photographs, video tapes, and reviews of her work because they are often the only things left over once her shows close.
Richey's commitment to stretching herself and her thoughts has lead her to adopt unconventional grooming and dressing habits.
The styling of her extremely short hair, for example, exhibits no rhyme or reason. "I cut it myself whenever I like and I never comb it," she said with a laugh. At times, Richey highlights her hair with fluorescent blues, oranges and other colors.
She did not always have that "devil may care" appearance while growing up on Prospect Street and attending Hamden High School. "I can remember waking up when I was a teen-ager and moaning; 'why can't both sides look alike!'" On the other hand, Richey believes she "always looked at things a little differently."
Some people may find Richey's approach to art threatening, but the artist does not consider herself an angry rebel. An articulate and humorous speaker Richey exudes enthusiasm when discussing her work with art conneisseurs [sic] and curious by standers alike.
"My work is not about rebellion. It's about options, alternatives, freedom," she said. "I suppose I love everything that is considered wrong. When you realize how often we limit ourselves to one way you begin to think how boring it is."
"Sold Out" Richey's last show of 1984, exemplified her provocative, convention-stretching approach. The artist plaster a section of downtown New Haven last October with signs and graffitti [sic] exhorting the public not to miss "Sold Out; Official Opening of the '84 Shopping Season." Richey, her friends, and who ever they could recruit, passed out free tickets to the show and encouraged people to see it.
When viewers finally found the gallery at the top of several flights of stairs, there was no Richey work to be seen. The artist's message! "I had given all I could in 1984 and was sold out.
Having explored consumption for three years, Richey is moving into new artistic territory in 1985; fashion. A group project slated for this spring will study "what covers the body instead of what goes into it." Richey vowed, however, that she will continue her late night visits to Food Mart in pursuit inspiration.
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