Art on Capitol Hill

Memo to anyone who wants to be an artist: Don’t worry about being great. Don’t fret if you are not Michelangelo, Monet or Picasso. The purpose of art is not to create masters or masterpieces. That is going to happen once in a while, but the real reason purpose of art is to bring living people together to share the experiences that go beyond the temporal—beyond the mundane tasks that command most of our waking moments. Art can be both a visual prayer and a communal prayer. True art is not competitive. There is no entrance exam. There are no grades. The more you experience creativity, the more joy you will have. Just do it. Make art, and encourage the work of others. Skills and theories can be learned, but not unless you get started. Techniques can be mastered, but by themselves they won’t get you off the ground. Art is the liberator. Live. Have fun. Do what works for you and look at what you like.

Dots!!! Lots of dots: polka dots, pin point dots, Tiddly Wink-type dots, every size and every color, everywhere, all over odd-shaped pieces of wood that are covered with canvas. This shouldn’t work—ask any artist—but somehow it does. It should be tight as a knot, but it’s not. Each work is a wondrous, playful fantasy. And each work is an enigma. You might say that they are fit as a riddle. They make a comedy out of gravity.

But David Tull is like that. He dances with the strife of life. He makes you smile because he makes himself smile…even when living can be damn unpleasant. He says he has three passions: art, sailboat racing and chasing (life). Maybe that’s because he grew up in Annapolis, roaming the boat yards. He began by painting on scraps of wood picked up on the docks, which influenced his color, compositions and messages. He also did watercolor scenes of the harbor which he sold at festivals. He was very good. He was saved from the Naval Academy by a scholarship to Yale, where he got two degrees in art. From there he went to ad agencies in New York and he had his own agency for ten years. He came back to the DC area in 1984 and stayed.

But why all the dots? Because David is a serious designer and colorist. “I wanted to take the simple dot and make it more than a dot. I wanted to do something in a circle, and with a circle.” To David, dots are a means to communicate emotions to other humans. The sizes and shapes of the wood pieces allow him to tell the story. Future? He would like to take the three dimensions in his work to the next step—venture into the freedom of space with mobiles or other such structures. And he would like to work big, in sizes that allow more complete and involved stories. But more than anything, David Tull wants to create a visual impact you just don’t want to let go of—one dot at a time.

“Forged and Found” and Viet Nam The Second Saturday art walk on Capitol Hill is alive and well. Each month, Hill people in larger and happier numbers walk to the galleries and shops that keep their doors open until 7—8:00 in the evening. June 8 is the next date for the openings and there are a couple of very good shows that are off the beaten path, both literally and figuratively.

One path leads to the Millennium Art Center at 65 I (eye) Street, SW, 202-744-8222. The featured opening is the Meltdown glass program show, “Forged and Found.” It combines cast glass with “found objects” and forged metals. The works are small but free standing. They merge the pure beauty of cast glass with ordinary things in unexpected ways. Other galleries and the studios of individual artists will also be open. The other is a short path—to Gallery 325, at 325 7th St. SE—but one that takes you around the world and into the seemingly eternal past: the Peter Steinhauer show of present day Viet Nam in black and white photos. Viet Nam has a special timelessness in a space that draws you close visually and emotionally, but holds you suspended from that reality at the same time. Steinhauer is comfortable in that space.