Collector Capers, Part II Artomatic Prankster Returns, And So Does an 'Impostor'

By Amy Argetsinger and Roxanne Roberts
Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The annual Artomatic show was rocked last weekend by rival pranksters -- each claiming the alias of " The Collector" -- who pulled off a pair of cat-and-mouse stunts offering impish commentary on the local arts scene.

The stunts -- involving anonymous notes, Monopoly money, mystery gift boxes and scavenger-hunt antics -- injected a dose of drama into the free community arts show. But they also gave a case of the jitters to artists already freaked about a small spate of artwork thefts.

Which we feel very, very bad about. Because the stunts in question were also ingeniously crafted to center on The Reliable Source. So, frankly, it was all deeply flattering and crazy fun. (Note to flacks and other publicity-cravers: Don't get any ideas. Not falling for this again.)

* * *

It started with a couple of cryptic, anonymous letters: A promise to return. A wad of Monopoly money. Something waiting for us on the 12th floor. Signed, The Collector.

Much excitement. A year ago, someone using the same name demanded $10,000 in Parker Bros. currency for the return of a little glass rocket ship by local sculptor Tim Tate that had gone missing from his Artomatic kiosk. We accompanied Tate to a weird midnight ransom drop on the Mall, where a masked man jumped out from behind the Albert Einstein statue, seized the board-game cash and vanished again into the night. He left behind Tate's rocket ship and a note with a sort-of explanation ("Only through the loss of art does society value its art").

So was The Collector back? The folks at Artomatic called days later: A large trunk with our name on it had mysteriously appeared on the 12th floor of this year's show, in a former office building near Union Station. It was locked. But fortunately, that same day our correspondent had sent us the key (in a box that also held shards of broken ceramics -- weird as usual).

By the time we got to Artomatic on Saturday, everyone was talking about the trunk. Two artists sent us plaintive e-mails -- some paintings had walked off from their installations; were they in the trunk? A small crowd of Artomatic volunteers hovered excitedly around us. As soon as we opened the trunk, any lingering suspicions that they were in on the gag vanished.

"Uh-oh," said Artomatic co-chairman Tracy Lee. "I don't like this."

Inside: more broken pieces of kitschy ceramics (a cartoonish cat, an Uncle Sam hat). Two battered amateur landscape paintings, affixed with the label "This is junk." A romance paperback labeled "This is trash." A Monet print labeled "This is art." And a smaller box filled with business cards from various Artomatic artists -- "the real artists," proclaims the label -- and a screed decrying those who choose schlock over real artistry. Signed, The Collector. (Alas, none of the missing artworks, which no one has yet taken responsibility for stealing.)

The Artomatic folks, whose five-week run ends Sunday, were decidedly unpsyched. For most of their nine years, they've been hit by critics who think the show's open-door policy to all artists encourages too much . . . well, schlock. Later, our mysterious correspondent e-mailed us to say that the message of the trunk was meant to support, not attack, Artomatic artists. Still, groaned co-chairman Rebecca Gordon, "It's not a sophisticated argument."

* * *

Another anonymous letter, this one in e-mail: "I am the real Collector." Whoever was leaving gifts for us at Artomatic was "an impostor." And he could prove it, telling us such details as what color bandanna he wore that night on the Mall. Now he was offering to meet us -- in person -- at Artomatic. (In a later e-mail exchange, the prankster who delivered the trunk acknowledged that he was not The Collector of last year's drama.)

We were waiting at the appointed meeting spot when our cellphone rang. "The Collector is running late," said a youngish male voice, but in the meantime, there was something waiting for us under the skirt of the tall papier-mache skeleton on the seventh floor . . .

It was a red wooden box. Inside: another manifesto, this one calling for support of local artists -- and blasting D.C. galleries, collectors and critics who pay more attention to the international scene. It's a complaint we've often heard from Artomatic denizens.

Also: five little handmade cards in the style of Monopoly's "Community Chest" that single out some of The Collector's local faves -- painters Jeff Wilson and Scott Brooks, sculptor Aaron Quinn Brophy, Long View Gallery and Gallery Neptune.

We were just beginning to process this when the phone rang again. "I've got another surprise." Yeah, we'd sort of guessed: "The Collector's not going to meet you today."

But he was not done with us yet. "Go to the east window," he said. "Do you see me?"

On the Metro platform nearly two blocks away, a man in a hat and shades, long pants and long sleeves in the 96-degree heat was waving to us.

"I'm giving you a photo op," The Collector said. And then he was gone.

Instead of These Two-Buck Talkers, Try . . .

Gennifer Flowers and Paula Jones, who both claim intimate knowledge of Bill Clinton, have teamed up for "Two Chicks Chatting," a tacky Internet site where they discuss details of their alleged encounters with the former president for $1.99 a pop. We got a quick peek -- and all we can say is " Ewww." Four better ways to spend $1.99:

· "Spicy Attitude," an import interview CD with the Spice Girls, at the CD Exchange.

· "Sound of Farm," an MP3 download, complete with crickets and a cow mooing, from BToxicfree.

· Set of three Pretty N Plaid doggie hair bows, "cheery fashion accessories guaranteed to give dogs eye-catching style," on eBay.

· A downloadable version of the 1936 anti-drug classic "Reefer Madness" from EZTakes.

HEY ISN'T THAT . . . ?

· Katie Couric, not breaking a sweat during an outdoor awards lunch yesterday at Sewall-Belmont House. The Godiva chocolate in the swag bags completely melted, but the CBS anchor (pearls, white silk sleeveless top) kept her cool despite 98-degree temperatures under the garden tent.

· Jennifer Lopez making a mysterious visit to Barack Obama's Senate office yesterday, though the Dem nominee was not in town. Black dress, dark shades; declined to tell a reporter for the Hill why she was there.