The Ogden City Arts Advisory Committee is a group of local artists and residents that focuses on all things art happening in the city. The group’s members work as liaisons between artists and Ogden City to ensure art remains a vital part of the city. Carey Campbell is a member of the committee.
The posters promised me “the moment (I’ve) been waiting for.” I knew a little about what to expect at the May 5 Moments Art Festival, but as I’m sure is in the spirit of the event, what I actually experienced was entirely situational and unrepeatable.
Let me explain: I attended the festival with some people who tend to approach museums as a competitive timed event, with the artworks as checkpoints along the way and the gift shop as the trophy.
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Although I’d rather not have experienced a festival like Moments in that way, I had little choice. Sadly, lingering at any particular happening at Moments was out of the question, so I had to resign myself to seeing whatever I could see at just under a slow jog.
What I saw, however, was a familiar street transformed into a surrealistic playground.
On one corner, a woman dancing the tango with a mannequin; on another corner, charcoal sidewalk art; across the street, a giant graffiti wall in-process with a singer/songwriter in front of it. I duct-taped polka dots to the street while ballerinas struck poses atop their own. Twice I saw poetry accompanied by music made up on the spot.
I saw sculptures and light installations that were constantly evolving, refusing to be just one thing. Everywhere I looked, surprises. All of these things I saw or did with barely enough time to process what was going on; they were, in fact, moments. I can never see them again — at least not live — and there is so much that I missed.
As I walk down that familiar street again almost a month later, I find myself longing to be surprised, to find art literally in my path. True, I can duck into any number of galleries or venues on that street, but I know what to expect, how to act, and how to appreciate art when I come into its space.
Happily, on May 5, as I raced up and down 25th Street, art came into mine — and left me breathless.