52nd City

Ode to the Potato

While I was on vacation, both Thomas and Stefene contributed odes to the potato. I cannot pass on the opportunity to share my love of the dusty orb. I believe in the power of the potato. The potato is what brought me to Mad Art. The potato is what took me to Vegas. The potato brought me back into making art after a very long desolate hiatus. In a strange way, the potato is what saved me.

Allow me to explain. In 2001 my friend Rebecca Stees, who was living in Oakland, California, approached me about doing a group art show with some fellow artist friends from college. We had all gone to work after college, some of us in artistic, some not. We had tossed around the idea of shows in the past, but it was ten years since we left art school—it was time to act. I was in a serious rut at my job. So we embarked on the unknown and came upon the idea of doing a potato-themed show, modeled after a famed Potato Party Rebecca had thrown years ago. So we threw it together. We didn’t have a lot of rules about it. I started making art again. We had a helluva show at Mad Art in January 2002. I fell in love with the gallery. I made friends with Ron and Tracy. Eventually, I left my corporate job to help at the gallery and make more art. I was out of the rut and very happy.

In February of this year, Rebecca, Nina Ganci, and I traveled to Las Vegas to put on another potato show--Cult of the Potato. Again, we didn’t know what to expect, but it was a fabulous success. There is something magical about the humble spud that makes people smile, makes people feel warm and friendly. I stood on a busy Vegas street in front of a crowded gallery, dressed in my Potato Eaters chef’s jacket, and handed out potatoes to unsuspecting passersby. I snuck them into baby strollers, purses, and the hoods of visitor’s coats. To me, it was quality entertainment.

I love good food, good parties, good art, and good people. The potato brings all these favorite things together somehow. Peeling potatoes for soup or mashed potatoes is cathartic—it forces me to slow down and enjoy the moment. Cradling a dusty orb in my left hand and gliding the peeler across the surface towards me, I feel instantly comforted. Making things for other people, whether I’m making food or art, brings me a tremendous amount of joy. I hope to share a potato with you someday soon.