Friday Night in Gastown: Bringing Art to the People
from the Summer 1999 issue of Broken Pencil

It's a Friday night in Gastown and bunch of 20 and 30 somethings are packing themselves into Moon Base -- a bustling and unpretentious pop-art gallery -- for an art book and zine show entitled Nog A Dod. Publications rest delicately on a three inch wide shelf, held in place by steel wires. Original artwork looms a few feet above the shelves and there's a rack of work for sale in the back corner of the gallery. Unlike the typical and often awkward consumer confrontation between zinester and customer -- a rental table separating the two noble foes -- the relative anonymity is encouraging lengthy browsing.

The jostling and heat created by 50-plus people crammed into a room that comfortably fits 15, drives the less hearty of the throng onto the sidewalk. The hot air created by cigarette smoke and schmoozing comfortably wafts.

What converts art opening cliches into a unique event is that the energy, crackle and crowd density remains consistent for nearly three hours. The anima I find lacking in Vancouver's local music scene appears to have been channeled into the artistic community.

At the centre of the festivities is artist and guest curator Jason McLean. Wearing dungaree overalls and a bright red shirt, he vaguely resembles fast-food icon Big Boy -- who, not-so-coincidentally, is one of Jason's creative muses. His friendly and calm demeanor masks the tremendous amount of organizational effort needed to ensure that deadlines were met -- over 50 different artists from across North America participated in this show.

Still, it's worth it. Nog A Dod is serving more than a few purposes. It's making zinesters rethink their text as art. It's giving independent comic artists a wall to hang their work on. And it's serving to legitimize the art book community that Jason and myriad collaborators have been helping to forge over the past two years, forcing zinesters and art oenophiles to breathe the same air -- while providing everyone with a damn good time.

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Crowds at Moon Base aren't exactly rare. Since opening the gallery in March of 1998, owners Mark "Atomos" Pilon and Jody Jacyk have experience rapid success. Their mandate has been to spotlight as much pop art as possible before their lease expires in September of this year. They've accomplished this, in part, through numerous group shows and a monthly turnover cycle. Urgency drives both Moon Base and the output of McLean. In January 1998, Jason was diagnosed with schizophrenia. While his symptoms are tamed by pharmaceuticals, the fear created by the diagnosis has created an incredible amount of creative momentum. His stats read like an indie-culture Gretzsky: 16 art books since 1997, participant in 58 shows and a frequent donator to art raffles.

Street cred aside, his work is damn good -- he has books in the MOMA archive. Jason and a cadre of like-minded artists have been taking advantage of inexpensive color photocopies to produce one-of-a-kind visual chapbooks that are part zine and part limited edition conceptual art publications. For Jason, they serve as a portable portfolio of his work -- playfully absurd, somewhat abstract, "zoodles" illustrations that somehow complement nonsense book titles like "Musician's Cornfest" and "Lambchop Safari." He's collaborated with Marc Bell, Jay Isaac, Igor Santizo and others, and maintains snail mail contact with a large network of artists scattered across North America. Correspondence art has helped inspire Jason and allowed him to foster an art book community.

Mark "Atomos" been equally busy. A respected pop-artist himself, the effort and time required to run even a small gallery like Moon Base (which is open Wednesday through Sundays) is both daunting and inspiring. Mark works at alt-weekly The Georgia Straight three days a week, providing the sort of steady income necessary to subsidize his culture barn. An estimated $300 per month is spent on flybills, posters and other promotional efforts. Mark generally breaks even with a 30% commission. Technology has been central to both Mark's art and the mandate of the gallery. An automated fax program makes promo easier and the computer savvy Mark creates his own artwork digitally before painting the images onto a canvas of wood slates. Mark is also creating a Moon Base online archive of artwork. At first glance, pop-art and the accessibility that it implies seems to separate Moon Base from other small Vancouver galleries, helping to explain its popularity. However, equally important has been a group of artists like Mark and Jason who can harness their right cortex and promote themselves senseless without irritating their contemporaries, all the while finding the time and inspiration to maintain both consistent quality and quantity of artistic output.

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Moon Base owes a debt to a local artist and raconteur named Scratch who, Mark believes "started the independent art ball rolling in Vancouver." Beginning in 1995, Scratch held openings in his somewhat spacious apartment, hyping said shows brilliantly -- MuchMusic cameras arrived at his premiere launch. But behind Scratch's glitter and glad-handing lay a perceptive eye and an incredible passion for pop-art. Scratch gave struggling artists like Mark an opportunity to showcase their work and later formed the V8 collective, giving similarly minded pop-artists much needed muscle to get gallery shows and the corresponding recognition. Sadly, Scratch moved to Ottawa in the spring of 1998, but thankfully, his pioneering wasn't wasted.

Moon Base is helping to prove that pop-art is coming of age in Vancouver and supporting local artists in the process. "The big galleries are importing art from anywhere but British Columbia," notes Mark. "They ignore local art, despite getting grants from the Canadian government to maintain their operations."

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If Moon Base is providing a venue and an entry point for artists and patrons, Jason McLean has become a kind of cultural activist -- putting art within the financial and philosophical reach of his peers. Pee on the Owl, a well promoted and well attended show held in February of this year featured work by Jason McLean and long-time collaborator Shayne Ehman. Red dots sprouted like measles hours after doors opened and over 40 of the 80 pieces sold, due in part to reasonable prices -- framed, original illustrations priced between $100-200 -- and the unique nature of said work.

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Like most major Canadian cities, Vancouver has more art than places to put it. This inequity has lead to some unique partnerships. The Brickyard, a live music venue near Moon Base has been successfully exposing the hoi-polloi to culture. When curator Vicki M. first decided to tack up art inside the then seedy bar, more than a few eyebrows were raised. But after mowing down preconceptions with opening after packed opening, more and more artists became excited by the possibilities of accidental exposure to the Molson mobs that fill the bar on weekends.

Cafes and restaurants like DV8 and The Sugar Refinery have taken an integrated and organic approach to displaying art. The Sugar Refinery advertises itself as a "photographic diner," a nod to owner Steven Horwood's interest in kodak imagery. The mostly handmade furniture and decor create an installation in progress feel to the room. Over at the tolerably trendy DV8 cafe, canvasses loom over patrons from their perch on the main wall. Art is not token in either venue -- both feature prominently displayed art and well advertised openings.

Galleries that don't double as bars and restaurants, like Moon Base, have to be more innovative to make up for their lack of income. Despite the fun Mark and Jody are having, it's costly -- from both a financial and time perspective. But support from other galleries helps cogwheel their efforts. Jason, meanwhile, has been turning a lot of Vancouverites onto new ideas about what art is and should be, while encouraging a lot of zinesters to view their photocopies as something more.