Teen takes on Lancaster's First Friday

An old place with a new face or How I learned to stop worrying and love the art

Lancaster New Era

Published: Sep 04, 2008
07:07 EST

By ZAC MORROW / HACC Lancaster

I didn't wake up that day.

The sweat pants I wore to bed were sitting on me funny. The awkward sweat I made that night had glued them to my skin in a really uncomfortable way.

I went downstairs through my sunless staircase, and then I got really mad. I looked outside and saw it was a bright and sunny and pleasant day. I was so irked by the glory of the day.

When I expect to be bored and listless, I hope that at least nature has the decency to be agreeable and make it a bleak and gray day. Not today though, thank you kindly.

Nonetheless, my heart was filled with joy. I was going to beat this weather back at its own game; I was going to find something to do.

That's the thing, though. I have come to expect to be bored. And maybe dependent on it. It's comforting to know you can be bored in Lancaster, because it's always easy to blame the town and not yourself, and then you can sit back and absorb comfortable laziness and obscurity.

How many times I've sat with my partners in crime and cohorts and friends and said, "God! There's nothing to do around here!"

But not today.

Because today I will experience First Friday, the once-a-month arts extravaganza that explodes in and around downtown Lancaster.

I get a ride into the middle of the city. It's bright and early. Blindingly bright, and unnervingly early.

Now there is time to kill. But I'm not sorry.

I realize now that killing this time isn't going to be hard. I'm in the center of things, looking out.

As evening comes, it cools off somewhat, and I notice a wave of new faces wandering the streets. That's the weird thing I've noticed throughout the day: Even though I don't really know any one of the people on the streets, I feel like I've seen most of them before.

It's an odd dynamic for a city on the grow to not have enough people to keep the faces fresh and different. It was like the universe had run out of extras.

But a plethora of new ones starts showing up at around 5. It was great, and I felt elation on the verge of psychosis when I entertained the idea of getting other people's thoughts on First Friday.

I began immediately. The thing I was trying to figure out was if kids were coming to this little shindig to view the art or to be viewed by their peers. What I found actually blew my mind.

I head to a spot called Metropolis.

All sorts of people are about the place, young and old and of all ethnicities. There's a line around the building to get into the place that's no larger than a good-sized living room in a rancher house.

I flash some of my near-expired press creds, and I express an interest to talk to the man responsible for hanging all of the vibrant, Lichtenstein-ish modern art on the walls. I notice him instantly, even though we've never met. He just was standing in the middle of the room, looking around at all of the people coming and going. I could relate.

He was wearing all black, and he was definitely in charge.

"Hey, are you the owner?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm Angelo," he says in a pleasant way.

I get him to answer some questions I've got about the whole affair of First Friday. What he says to me is revealing.

I ask him how into it the youth culture gets with art and First Friday.

"The youth culture that appreciates art? They appreciate it. But there's a lot of bored people, just looking for something free to do. They come out, but I don't know if they get anything from it. Sometimes it's just warm bodies," he tells me, as though he was just thinking about it before I asked him.

This catches me off guard, because when I look around, the place is packed. People were staring down the art and trying to connect to the culture.

I thank him and leave. When I get outside through the droves of people, I look back at the entrance, and new faces have replenished the crowd outside since I had gone in.

"Warm bodies?" I thought.

No warm bodies here. Just people in the throes of the thing. They were connected by a common thing. Not a thing in particular — maybe it was zeal or appreciation, but I don't think it matters.

The fact is that they all did something with the night.

My night went on with watching people and asking questions; I get a feeling that everyone has shown up to be a part of it.

Culture surrounds us, and all we have to do is acknowledge it. All we have to do is go out and see it.

We are the culture. We made that art, and we put it on display. We must need it. We must desire the culture.

I saw people genuine about the whole First Friday affair, whether they knew it or not.

My hope is that now you know that you do appreciate the art and the culture.

My night went on in the same way. People answered my silly questions with zest, but nothing stuck with me like what I saw at Metropolis. People really with it.

It was a good time. I totally recommend it.

But the time never ended. We can experience the town at the drop of a hat.

It doesn't have to end.

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FIRST FRIDAY FYI
On the first Friday of every month, more than 90 galleries, restaurants and other businesses in and around the downtown area feature a variety of special events and exhibits celebrating the arts in Lancaster.

Most participants are open 5 to 9 p.m.

For details and a full list of First Friday participants, check out www.lancasterarts.com.

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Zac Morrow is a Hempfield graduate and attends Harrisburg Area Community College. E-mail him at YourLife@LNPnews.com.