"I was blessed to raise nine kids (3 girls and 6 boys) and put them all through college. Every one of them got a good education and every one of them has a good job. They made me proud. It was rough some days when they were coming up, but we made it through by the grace of God. They got on the right road and stayed on it. (*laughs*) Best thing is, I got all of them out of my hair now."
"As a child growing up in New York, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment. My sisters and I shared the bedroom and my parents slept on a pull-out couch, but they exposed us to so much art and culture. We went to museums, galleries, operas, theater, shows at Radio City Music Hall, everything. My parents subscribed to the Book of the Month club and to the Album of the Month club, so our apartment was filled with music and books: Chopin, Beethoven, Edgar Allen Poe, and many others. My father was a dental technician, which meant he did a lot of delicate crafting, and my mother was always drawing, so I grew up with art as a way of life and could never understand how people could live without it. "My earliest memories are of making art, and I've been painting now for 50-plus years. I have a gallery in Midtown and also do consulting and curating for the corporate market and for individuals. Obviously, this is the way I make my living, but that's not why I do it. I don't think about selling. I think about building relationships. I think of myself as a creator of experiences, not primarily as a retailer. I believe in collaboration and inclusiveness; it's important to me to reach out to the community, and I offer my gallery is a place for people to gather. They're welcome just to come and sit and visit with each other there. I don't know too many other galleries that are set up that way. We have events in that space as well: poetry readings, theater, dance, musical performances, parties, even weddings. "I also work with young artists who are trying to break into the art world, and often they are overly concerned with the details of how to market their work. That will come, but I always tell them, 'Work from your heart. Do what is uniquely yours, not just what you think will sell.' I want to be loving and considerate, to encourage and support them, to point out things that are working in what they do. I sometimes ask them, 'If you never sold a piece of art in your life, would you still do it?' It's important to be able to answer that." The Jay Etkin Gallery is located at 942 S. Cooper 38104
"If you could have dinner with anyone, past or present, who would it be?"
"Martin Luther King." "Is there anything you would ask him?" "I'd ask, 'Why did you go through all that you went through?' It seems like not too much has changed. I still come across people who call me 'nigger.' I work in a restaurant, and it wasn't long ago that a white customer called me a nigger. I don't know if his order wasn't right or if he was just in a bad mood, but it seems like not everybody caught on to what Dr. King was saying. There are folks who want to see black people still out working in the fields and not exploring the world along with white people. Seems like a lot of things are still like they were in history, before Dr. King ever came." "I remember when Dr. King was killed, there was nothing open in downtown Memphis. Businesses were closed, the Peabody was boarded up. The city didn't want black people on Main Street, so they closed it too. They didn't say that was the reason, but in my opinion, that's why they did it. Things have changed a little bit since those days, but there's still a lot of racial tension here. It's based on fear, I think. Fear on both sides of the fence."
"I was 18 years old when Dr. King was killed. I was with a crowd of students, coming up the street there, and Dr. King was leaning over the motel balcony, right in front of room 306, talking to somebody. See that window in the building across there where the curtain's pushed back? That's where the shot came from. All of a sudden: ka-pow! I saw him fall. It was the worst thing I've ever witnessed in my entire life. I'll never forget it as long as I live. We loved that man. When that shot rang out, we thought the world had ended. It changed everything." The National Civil Rights Museum / Lorraine Motel is located at 450 Mulberry Street 38103.
"My husband and I moved here from South Dakota about a year and a half ago. It been the best experience for us as a couple in growing closer together. All our family is in South Dakota, so we've had to learn how to really be there for each other."
"Downtown Memphis is one of the safest places you can be. I've met people from all over the world. One of the most interesting things I've ever seen down here is the Presidential motorcade coming to the Peabody. They put up a tunnel, and the President walked through it, so I didn't actually get to see him, but I knew he was there. I'm part of the Blue Suede Brigade (a division of the Downtown Memphis Commission), and we're out here every day, answering questions and helping people find what they're looking for. I've done this for ten years now, and I wear out a pair of shoes about every six months. The question I get the most is, 'Where's the Rendezvous?' And then you'll have young men wanting to know where all the women are."
"If you could wake up tomorrow able to do one thing you can't do today, what would it be?"
"I'd like to be able to fly." "Everyone has a voice; everyone has something important to say. The idea behind the Center for Southern Folklore is to give all of our voices a broader audience. We want to celebrate and preserve the culture of this part of the Memphis/Delta region. Our arts, music, narratives, sports and dance tell our story. We're all important, not because of the money we make or the clothes we wear. We're important just because of who we are as individuals. We need to listen to each other. We need to get to know and appreciate each other. Our lives are so rushed that it's hard to do that, but when we do we make our world a better place. I know I'm a dreamer, but I come from a culture that celebrates people and tradition, and I want to be a part of that. "I think of B.B. King, of Rufus Thomas, and of many others who have given their time to help us develop the Center. And I think of Mose Vinson, a boogie-woogie pianist who worked with us for years. He would take a child's hand in his and place their fingers on the keys, and the child would go home thinking they could really play! Mose took the time to share what he knew with people. When you do that, when you take what you've learned and hand it down to others, you're doing what people have done for centuries. At the Center we pass on music and culture one person at a time." Photo below by Don Perry, RSVP magazine: Judy Peiser is the co-founder and executive director of the Center for Southern Folklore, located at 119 S. Main.
"I was born in Sardegna (Sardinia), raised in Sicily, and came to the United States when I was 14. A lot of people think, 'Oh, how romantic to come from Italy all the way across the ocean to a new country', but when you're that age, it isn't romantic. It's traumatic. I had studied English at school, but it didn't sound anything like the southern English I heard when I got here. I couldn't understand anything. I was so homesick. Not only was I in the wrong country, I was landlocked. I couldn't just hop in a car and go home. I missed the beauty I'd grown up with: the mosaics, the churches, the museums, the ruins of Pompeii that we played in as children. I missed my family. I come from the oldest continuous line of potters on the island of Sardinia; I still have photos of myself on my grandfather's lap throwing tiny pots. Art and beauty were all around me; I couldn't help being a part of it; it shaped who I am.
"I will always be involved in art. I teach art here at an elementary school, and the kids are so ridiculously adorable and cute that it pulls at your heart. When I take out the paints and see their faces light up, it's wonderful. I give them a storyline and then watch them learn how to express themselves through art. I've been back to Italy many times over the years, and I always cry when I get on the plane to come home to the States, but I have children and grandchildren here now, so I don't want to leave. I miss Italy, but I love what I do." |
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