Artville made its re-launch debut this past Thursday night, having previously been known as the Artisan Festival. The festival had moved from its former location near Tennessee’s Parthenon in Centennial Park in years’ past.
For me, the evening was filled with excitement and nerves for two main reasons. The excitement stemmed from being in a city that embraced the arts through various festivals and community events, a stark contrast to my previous home in Tennessee where such opportunities were scarce. However, my introverted nature added a layer of anxiety to the mix. Social situations have always made me nervous, often rendering me awkward when approaching others. Moreover, my social energy depletes rapidly, transforming from 100% to 0% within an hour. Nonetheless, I had set a personal goal for myself: to connect with two Latin American artists.
SPOILER ALERT!
I succeeded.
My anxiety also revolved around putting myself and my platform out there, uncertain of how people would react or how my introversion might affect my interactions. Nonetheless, I put on my “poker face,” dressed up for the occasion, and even invited my mother along for support. Together, we ventured into Nashville’s vibrant art scene, eager to experience the art, take photographs, and, hopefully, make meaningful connections with the artists I had in mind to meet.
I’m the type of person who values punctuality and organization, so we arrived a few minutes before the Pre-show began. After showing our tickets, we entered the main gallery space, the Nashville Warehouse Company in Chestnut Hill. Here, we got a sneak peek of the art that would be on display and available for sale during the public debut the following day, Friday the 29th of September. Being early felt like attending the Pre-show’s pre-show. We found ourselves in a space buzzing with activity, featuring a lively DJ, tables of delicious food, and last-minute preparations. Local galleries showcased the works of their artists in small trade show-style sections, each typically featuring around four pieces. As I strolled along the gallery wall, I couldn’t help but be drawn to a massive 14-foot concrete wall adorned with what felt like a hundred art pieces. Most of them were vibrant and saturated, creating an impressive sight, albeit one that seemed to blend many pieces together. The paintings with realistic and traditional methods stood out thanks to their contrasting colors. Nonetheless, this wall offered an opportunity to appreciate art in various sizes and formats, a feat not easily accomplished in such installations.
There isn’t much to say other than how honored I felt to witness things before they officially kicked off. After taking a few pictures, I headed outside to explore the line of murals that would soon grace the streets, closed off to regular traffic on Friday. Along the way, I encountered a few installations still being set up, while others stood ready to be viewed, albeit with no one around to admire them. It was still the pre-show, and the main event for the night was set to take place in the warehouse. So, we wandered around and enjoyed a sneak peek of what others would experience the next day.
About 30-40 minutes after our arrival, I found myself face to face with the artist Andrés Bustamante, one of the individuals I had hoped to meet in person. Our eyes met as I walked past his sculpture, and after he noticed the logo on my t-shirt, which featured Paraffin’s branding, he introduced himself. Meeting people in person can be quite different from the impressions we form through social media, so I was grateful for his friendly introduction. Meeting Bustamante was undoubtedly the highlight of the evening for me.
As we conversed, we got to know each other as much as my introverted self would allow. During our discussion, I learned about the Colombian refugee who had made the United States his home since the age of 10. He shared the story behind his site-specific installation, “Sol Naciendo,” a departure from his usual industrial polycarbonate material. This piece consisted of separate inflatable components, including spheres and flexible tubes, arranged around a small tree next to the main warehouse. Each time I circled “Sol Naciendo,” which I must have done at least a dozen times, I was drawn into its loops, looking up, down, and all around. While observing visitors’ interactions with the sculpture, I witnessed a social artist eager to collaborate with others and warmly welcoming those who asked if they could touch or hug his creation.
As the sun set and night enveloped the scene, more and more people began to arrive. With this influx of visitors, groups of artists from other parts of the event grounds made their way to the warehouse gallery. For a brief moment, I had the opportunity to interact with the second artist I had hoped to meet, Yanira Vissepo. Looking back, I regret not having had the chance to see Vissepo’s installation, “Sentir el Viento” at Merritt Mansion, which featured works on textile panels hanging from wooden frames in the mansion’s grounds, as well as “La Luna de Cristal.”
Eventually, the Nashville Warehouse Company space filled with people. Conversations flowed, photos were taken, and food was enjoyed. I entered the warehouse once more, and it felt like a different environment from when I had first arrived. The cool air had dissipated, replaced by a gentle heat. If, like me, you had chosen to wear a coat due to the day’s rain and uncertain weather, you’d feel the warmth inside the venue. It reminded me of the Puerto Rico art scene, where dressing nicely was essential, even in hot and humid conditions. I spent about an hour inside the space, observing the crowd, capturing conversations through photographs.
What struck me most was the sense of community that permeated the art show. I couldn’t help but notice the absence of cliques or isolated groups of artists. Artists and groups effortlessly moved from one to another, engaging in genuine conversations rather than mere social conventions. This sense of unity could also be attributed to my relative unfamiliarity with Nashville, Tennessee’s art scene. However, it’s a scene worth exploring, especially as I embark on connecting with Latin American artists who are so close to me and often underrepresented.
Who knows, you may find me writing about some of the artists from the show in the future.
