This year, they say, it will be different
by Jack Neely
The planners of the Dogwood Arts Festival promise that the 44th articulation of the festival will be significantly different from those in years past.
For a lot of Knoxvillians, that's wonderful news. Though it comprised a variety of worthwhile events scattered around the Knoxville area, the "festival" part of the festival—the downtown street fair, centered in Market Square—has not been a popular or esthetic success in years.
Of course, we've heard before that it will be different this year. They didn't say, "Ha, ha, made you look," but they didn't have to. Though there were sometimes improvements here and there, it was always, more or less, the same thing: two or three weeks of karaoke evangelism and bric-a-brac for your doublewide.
Ed Pasley, in his third year as director, has been changing the festival by degrees, and this year may be the first year that differences are unmistakable.
It had noble origins, founded to improve Knoxville's national image, which had been subjected to an array of famous insults. There were many of them in the national media, from domestic and foreign, but today they're all attributed to John Gunther. He's the one who called Knoxville "the ugliest city... in America." He was not the first to say that in print for a national audience. Belgian novelist Odette Keun made the same remark, less politely, a decade earlier. But Gunther is our Designated Yankee, and the target of our civic rage.
The Dogwood Arts Festival, founded to repair our municipal image, somehow accomplished some of that job during the 1960s, when the festival earned raves in the national press. Then, university artists were enthusiastic participants, as were regional craftsmen from the famous craft shops of North Carolina and elsewhere. But in the years since, the festival has suffered some of the ebb and flow of image that its host city has experienced over the years. By the '80s, it had fallen off the regional radar as a respectable place to exhibit real arts and crafts. Never mind North Carolina; at its nadir, there were few accomplished artists in Knoxville, and almost none from the university, who wanted anything to do with Dogwood Arts.
Every year, the festival had something worthwhile to it, a flower show here, or a symphony concert over there, but for the erstwhile festivalgoer, especially those who had attended festive festivals in other cities, it tended to disappoint. At its worst, it seemed bent on proving Gunther right. Donors believed the directors meant well, and directors believed that the artists and musicians meant well. There were no hurt feelings, and not much art. Talking to festival organizers in the past, one might get the impression that the festival was held every year not for the citizens of Knoxville, but for the performers and exhibitors. It was the municipal equivalent of art therapy.
"We've had an [he pauses briefly to choose the right word] interesting variety of crafts," says Pasley. "We've tried to elevate them."
Even to the point of breaking an old Dogwood Arts tradition and saying no to some artists? "We have said no, on a number of occasions," says Pasley. "It's not always easy, but we have. Knoxville's culture—downtown Knoxville's culture—has changed dramatically in the last three years," he says. This year, he says, the festival's offerings will reflect that.
Market Square events co-chair Ann Julius adds that "We're gonna try" to have better music on the Square than in years past. "That was my goal, to upgrade the entertainment."
The festival's far-flung nature has been both a strength and a weakness. It has always been an inclusive festival, putting its stamp on many events held well outside of the city—and even county—limits, and sometimes outside the realm of anything having to do with dogwoods or the arts, even comprising a military air show near McGhee Tyson Airport. Often it seemed more like a promotional alliance of unrelated events than the sort of party most people think of when they think of a "festival."
They've parted ways with the air show, accepting longtime criticisms that it didn't have much to do with either dogwoods or the arts—but some parts of the festival will be as far-flung as ever. Among the festival's "sanctioned events" are an "Oysterfest" at the Concord Marina, and, 40 miles from there, the opening of the Smokies' baseball season. It's far-flung even in time; the fine-art auction "Artique," held at the Marriott three weeks after the official end of the festival, is a Dogwood Arts event.
However, the part that looks like a festival will be more concentrated in both time and space. The space is thoroughly refurbished Market Square and adjacent Krutch Park. It was expected to be finished by last year's festival, but at this writing its fountains and other accoutrements are still under construction. The optimistic expect it to be completely done by April.
"We are so excited about coming home," says Marketing Manager Ruthie Kuhlman, alluding to DAF's one-year diaspora to a nearby parking lot. "And the businesses are thrilled."
"We're the first festival to open on the new Market Square," says Julius. "We want to do it up right."
In the past, the DAF has attempted to seize downtown's Market Square for two or even three full weeks. This year, it will be just four days: one long weekend in the middle of April. Pasley says it's a deliberate move to improve the festival. "In the past, we were trying to do too much, but not putting much into each day. We thought, Why not condense it, and do more per day?"
Kuhlman uses phrases we're not used to associating with Dogwood Arts. "Knoxville's not gonna know what hit 'em," she says about the weekend of April 15-18.
It sounds like what you might expect of an urban spring festival with distinctive regional character. The first event—at 6:30 a.m. that Thursday—is a Market Square Biscuit Bake-Off. That evening will host a Gallery Walk of downtown art establishments; and, though coincidentally, the season's second Sundown In the City show on the square. The interaction of the Dogwooders and the Sundowners should be interesting to watch.
The Foothills Craft Guild will hold their Spring Show downtown for the first time ever in Krutch Park's new Gay Street extension; they've been affiliated with the festival in the past, but always discreetly removed from the downtown rabble at Chilhowee Park. They expect 40-50 exhibitors in all. Other craftsmen, many of them from out of state, will set up shop on the square proper.
In the past, for reasons that must have been hard to explain, the festival kept strict banker's hours. Performers, exhibitors, and even food vendors shut down around 4 or 5 o'clock, just when most folks were getting off work and school. It was almost as if exhibitors were worried that people might come and be critical. The fact that participants are going to keep the crafts tents open until the barbarously late hour of 7 p.m.—9 on Saturday, way past bedtime for the old DAF—proves this isn't the same old Dogwood Arts Festival.
"We're going to blow out Market Square on the 16th," says Kuhlman.
She's referring mainly to "art-rock" performer Michael Israel, part dancer, part gymnast, part painter. To the accompaniment of the UT Jazz Orchestra, he'll paint a giant canvas on stage, leaping to hit the high spots, rendering a giant surprise portrait.
"We're going to come out Friday night with a bang," Kuhlman says. "I don't want to give it all away, but Dogwood is going to be big again." She adds, "We're even bringing back the flower market and the farmer's market."
Saturday, April 17, will be the day to get downtown early for a good parking space. That day will feature the annual Dogwood Arts Parade It will be "Children's Day," featuring Justin Roberts, a nationally known performer whom Kuhlman describes as a "James Taylor for children" (without the heroin problem, we hope). Based on her description, he affects children in roughly the same way caffeine does. Radio stations WIVK and the River will host a series of musicians on the Market Square stage. For the gambling, motorcycling festivalgoer, there's the "poker run," a scavenger hunt for motorcyclists who ride to five different points in town to snag playing cards—when they bring their full hands back to Market Square, there'll be a showdown. A short-track bicycle race, or criterium, held at the Civic Coliseum, will also be part of the festival.
Complicating the picture is that that same Saturday of manic activity on Market Square and Krutch Park also happens to be the Saturday of the Rossini Festival just around the corner, the Knoxville Opera Company's surprise popular hit of the last two years. It has drawn thousands to its opera performances and an Italian Street Fair that celebrates wine, beer, and Italian food. Last year, it dwarfed the Dogwooders; even the operatically indifferent were drawn to the larger crowds and better food on Gay Street.
Pasley admits that, though the DAF and the KOC are coordinating their planning for that day, there will be a certain amount of competition involved, but he thinks both events will benefit from the number of people drawn to what is essentially a dual festival. He says the DAF fandango on Market Square will have "a slant toward young people and families." (When Pasley talks about "young people," he usually means children.) He adds that it will be more a bluegrass crowd than an opera crowd. "If we could do gospel on that day, that would be good," says Julius.
Sunday will witness a return of the festival's bluegrass competition, a five-hour public event much missed by area musicians in recent years. Major dobroist Phil Leadbetter, a promoter of the idea, will be putting it together, and if all goes well, it may resemble the popular annual bluegrass festivals held in outlying counties. The Jimmy White Folk Art Festival will be a showcase for traditional arts and crafts, involving about 25 area artisans.
Some things won't change too much. Dogwood Arts remains the sober aunt among Knoxville festivals. No beer or wine will be served under the auspices of the festival, though some "sanctioned events" allow it. Pasley says it's less a moral issue than a fiscal one. "Our insurance went up 300 percent last year," he says, "and anytime you bring alcohol into a situation, it goes up more."
However, several businesses on Market Square now serve drinks on their patios. And this dry festival may be supplemented by other resolutely wet festivals: Rossini and Sundown.
Pasley says it's not all the way there yet. "We're in a state of rebirth," he says. "We have to take it step by step." He has long-range hopes of making the festival bigger in the future; he mentions making use of World's Fair Park and the convention center. He's also particularly interested in doing more to attract college-age kids, the legion of spenders across the Second Creek valley that has somehow escaped the attention of previous festival organizers. (Pasley says UT will be the target of a new promotional effort yet to be announced.)
But this year, it does sound like fun. We'll go. And if they're pulling our leg again, we'll sure say so.
January 29, 2003 * Vol. 14, No. 5
© 2004 Metro Pulse
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