For Rent
"For Rent" are two of the cruelest words in any language. How can the store owner have given up all hope? How could he have shut down the best-known art store in the entire city?
Yesterday, I decided I needed some more pastel sticks. There were a couple of colors I felt I needed. I also wanted to see if the best art store in the area finally had sanded paper. This paper is wonderful for pastels. I am now finishing a pack I once bought online at a decent price, and I would prefer to find it in a physical store to be able to buy it whenever I need it.
I decided to make the trip to Santiago to see what was up. I hadn't been to the store in a while, but I still remember the excited feeling of walking in and seeing so much material surrounding me, begging to be put together into a thing of beauty. I also remember being shown the wonderful array of pastel sticks to choose from. Perhaps it wasn't as big as the arts store I had found in Porto, but it was more complete than others around here.
I arrive and park. I walk down the street to the store. It's after five, so I'm a little taken aback by the first sight of the entrance still locked up. Then, I look to see a schedule and a large sign finally catches my attention. "For Rent." Noooo!
Now what? My mind races and I can only think of little stores dedicated mostly to do-it-yourself with a little corner for fine arts. Most of those don't even have anything for pastelists. Some have a limited selection of pastel sticks, and an even more limited selection of pastel papers. Not what I want to find.
I leave, going down to my favorite sushi place, trying to salvage at least a little of the afternoon. Not even that. They've changed the afternoon opening to six o'clock. So I go home.
Pastel as an art form is still largely unknown in Spain. If you paint in oils or watercolors, even acrylics, you can easily find material. Even in some Chinese bazaars you can find cheap canvases and paints, if you're not interested in archival quality. But not pastels. When someone once asked me with what I had painted a framed picture in my hallway, I answered in Spanish, "Con pasteles." (With pastels.) And the awed person thought I had painted it with cake. Pastel in Spanish also means cake.
Art stores, like bookstores, don't seem to stand the test of time. Too many have closed in Santiago over these twenty-five years I've been here. Unfortunately, while I can find most books I want online at a reasonable price, it's not quite the same with art materials. The paper I have I bought some years ago online from an American art store. When I went to re-order some, I was told I would be sent an email with the shipping estimate I needed to approve before my credit card would be charged and the merchandise shipped. Strange. The first time I hadn't had to do that. When the email came, I scrapped everything. For a purchase of about thirty dollars, they wanted to charge shipping of over sixty dollars! But it wasn't only that site. Another site I tried had the same exorbitant shipping costs.
So then I tried European sites. One in the U.K. has similar paper to what I want, with lower charges, though it's still not cheap. One in Spain also has a small selection of sanded papers and pastels. But those are the only two halfway decent sites I have found. Other U.K. sites with cheaper prices don't ship to mainland Europe. Few other Spanish sites even have a nodding acquaintance with pastels and pastel papers.
If something isn't a fad here, it's difficult to find material for it. For example, patchwork. When I was into needlework, about fifteen years ago, I was interested in trying patchwork. But it was almost impossible to find the necessary tools and fabrics. Now, you can find a patchwork store on almost every corner. It's become fashionable to do patchwork. I guess I'll have to wait for pastels to become popular.
Yesterday, I decided I needed some more pastel sticks. There were a couple of colors I felt I needed. I also wanted to see if the best art store in the area finally had sanded paper. This paper is wonderful for pastels. I am now finishing a pack I once bought online at a decent price, and I would prefer to find it in a physical store to be able to buy it whenever I need it.
I decided to make the trip to Santiago to see what was up. I hadn't been to the store in a while, but I still remember the excited feeling of walking in and seeing so much material surrounding me, begging to be put together into a thing of beauty. I also remember being shown the wonderful array of pastel sticks to choose from. Perhaps it wasn't as big as the arts store I had found in Porto, but it was more complete than others around here.
I arrive and park. I walk down the street to the store. It's after five, so I'm a little taken aback by the first sight of the entrance still locked up. Then, I look to see a schedule and a large sign finally catches my attention. "For Rent." Noooo!
Now what? My mind races and I can only think of little stores dedicated mostly to do-it-yourself with a little corner for fine arts. Most of those don't even have anything for pastelists. Some have a limited selection of pastel sticks, and an even more limited selection of pastel papers. Not what I want to find.
I leave, going down to my favorite sushi place, trying to salvage at least a little of the afternoon. Not even that. They've changed the afternoon opening to six o'clock. So I go home.
Pastel as an art form is still largely unknown in Spain. If you paint in oils or watercolors, even acrylics, you can easily find material. Even in some Chinese bazaars you can find cheap canvases and paints, if you're not interested in archival quality. But not pastels. When someone once asked me with what I had painted a framed picture in my hallway, I answered in Spanish, "Con pasteles." (With pastels.) And the awed person thought I had painted it with cake. Pastel in Spanish also means cake.
Art stores, like bookstores, don't seem to stand the test of time. Too many have closed in Santiago over these twenty-five years I've been here. Unfortunately, while I can find most books I want online at a reasonable price, it's not quite the same with art materials. The paper I have I bought some years ago online from an American art store. When I went to re-order some, I was told I would be sent an email with the shipping estimate I needed to approve before my credit card would be charged and the merchandise shipped. Strange. The first time I hadn't had to do that. When the email came, I scrapped everything. For a purchase of about thirty dollars, they wanted to charge shipping of over sixty dollars! But it wasn't only that site. Another site I tried had the same exorbitant shipping costs.
So then I tried European sites. One in the U.K. has similar paper to what I want, with lower charges, though it's still not cheap. One in Spain also has a small selection of sanded papers and pastels. But those are the only two halfway decent sites I have found. Other U.K. sites with cheaper prices don't ship to mainland Europe. Few other Spanish sites even have a nodding acquaintance with pastels and pastel papers.
If something isn't a fad here, it's difficult to find material for it. For example, patchwork. When I was into needlework, about fifteen years ago, I was interested in trying patchwork. But it was almost impossible to find the necessary tools and fabrics. Now, you can find a patchwork store on almost every corner. It's become fashionable to do patchwork. I guess I'll have to wait for pastels to become popular.
Do you remember Charette in Boston. I loved that store. It has closed too.
ReplyDeleteI do. I loved to visit! I also visited Pearl Art Center in Cambridge, heaven knows if they're still there, too. The best always disappears.
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