You know what they say about “assume”.  To “assume” makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me”.  Those old aphorisms are still around for a reason.  They reveal a truth, often an unpleasant one.  Such is the case with the erroneous assumptions that I made about the 13^th Annual Highlands Ranch Wine Tasting and Fine Arts Festival. 

If I seem snarky now, trust me that I was much snarkier about this experience at first.  But I have mellowed as the days and weeks have drifted by and the distance between the event and this blog has increased.  I was upset (mostly) at myself for I had “assumed” quite a number of things, all of which were inaccurate.   In this case, my assumptions wasted my booth fee, my time and my weekend.

Sigh.

        So here are my faulty assumptions.

          I assumed that a wine tasting held in an expensive suburb of Denver that is filled with McMansions would generate significant attendance.   I assumed that by the 13^th year of a Wine Tasting and Fine Arts Festival, the promoters would have everything about it down pat.  I assumed that a wine tasting would involve good to excellent wines or, at a minimum, drinkable wine.  I assumed that attendance at a wine tasting in an exclusive suburb would mean slightly inebriated attendees armed with black American Express cards wandering around buying art.

I assumed that the wine tasting would run, if not all of each day, most of both days of the show.  I assumed that there was a reason that the promoters required us to be set up and ready to go at 8:45 a.m. each day.  I assumed that there was a reason that the show did not close until 6 p.m. 

I assumed that the show would be well advertised.  I assumed that the street signage for the show would at least mention the term “art show”.      

        Moreover, I assumed that a “juried” fine art festival would have a certain level of quality.  No tie-dyed t-shirts.  No Farmer’s Market refugees who show up Sunday morning and ask to join the festival.  No roofing companies.  I assumed, rashly it turns out, that only Fine Art would be at a “juried” fine art show. 

        Assume, assumed, assuming.  All wrong.  Dreadfully wrong.   Sadly, and completely wrong.

  First, just because a wine tasting is held in the 5^th most affluent county in the United States does not mean that residents of that county will attend that wine tasting.  Indeed, such an assumption depends on the additional assumption that the residents of said affluent county are aware of said wine tasting.  Unfortunately for all of us vendors, both assumptions were wrong. 

The residents of this pricey suburb did not attend either the wine tasting or the art show en mass, no doubt for the simple reason that they did not appear to know about the existence of this Event.  Several of the very few folk who, out of simple curiosity, wandered into our booths expressed that our art show was a complete surprise to them.

  Ut oh.  Not good.  Not good at all.

        Next, no one, and I mean not one person, was around at 8:45 a.m. when we set up and almost no humans appeared until after 10 a.m.  None of the adjacent stores (except for Target) were open before 10 a.m. on Saturday and 11 a.m. or noon on Sunday.   So why, pray tell, in the 13^th year of this “Art Fair”, did the presumably experienced promoters require us to be set up by 8:45 a.m.? 

Beats me. 

I think, in retrospect, that perhaps they just wanted to torture us.  Really, what other reason could there be?  Particularly, when, as we found out later in the day, the wine area did not open until 11 a.m. to sell glasses of wine and the wine tasting and food pairing, which was presumably the “draw”, did not begin until – yes, it is true – 1 p.m.  So let me see if I’ve got this right; we artists were required to set up and be open for business a full 4 hours BEFORE the wine tasting began.

        Hmmm.  Inauspicious, to say the least.

        Worse yet, the wine tasting ended at – yep, it’s true – 3 p.m. on Saturday.  There was no wine tasting on Sunday.  None. Zero.  Zilch.  Surely you can guess what happened to the “crowd” (if you can call 25 or so people a crowd) after the 3 p.m. conclusion of the Saturday wine tasting?  The inaptly named “crowd” fled to the comfort of their air-conditioned homes, just as we should have.  We didn’t though; as seasoned professionals we … stood around and bitched.  Yep, that’s what we did.  There were no customers so we had nothing else to do. 

        So, onto the wine quality.  Or lack thereof.  As you might guess, it was the lack thereof that was the problem.  It never occurred to me to ask what kind of wine these folks would be serving.  After all, this was a purported “wine tasting” in an exclusive area.  Only the best would be served, right?  Wrong.  The wine that was served was inexpensive, available at every liquor store in the Denver metro area for $7 per bottle and was nearly undrinkable at the temperature at which it was served - hot.  I know because I had a glass.  What the heck.  It wasn’t as if I had customers to attend to.  The term “cellar temperature” was, apparently, unknown to these folks.  So too was the term “quality”.  Two-Buck Chuck would have been a better choice than this wine.  No wonder that no one with a palate attended. 

            After 13 years of this event, THIS was the best that they could do? 

The quality of the vendors was also an issue.  When I saw the Roofing Company set up their tent in the middle of the adjacent row of artists, I began to worry.  I worried even more when the lovely gal next to me set up her tie-dye t-shirt/knitted pan scratchers’ tent.  I’ve nothing against her products and she sure was a lovely and generous neighbor but “juried fine art” was not what she was selling. 

        Things went from bad to worse on Sunday morning when Grandpa Jack set up his bottle openers tent next to mine.  It seems that Grandpa Jack, who was dressed to match his name (i.e., right out of Hee Haw) had arrived late for the local farmer’s market.  Rejected by the Farmer’s Market people, he somehow spotted our event (I have no idea how he spotted us as no one else seemed to be able to; perhaps he was headed to Target), asked for and received permission to set up his booth.   Our “juried fine art” fair was, apparently, not juried; a fact that had been apparent from the roofing company and my tie-dye friend but now was in high relief.

            Seriously?

             Last, but certainly not least, I wandered out to the adjacent main street on Sunday mid-morning to see what the signage looked like.  The sign that I saw on Sunday morning said, in its entirety:

“Wine Tasting and Food Pairing, Saturday 1 – 3pm.” 

That was it; that was the total sign. Nothing was said about art, the hours of 9 to 6 pm or even that there was anything going on Sunday.  When I saw that sign, I knew that this so-called juried wine tasting and fine art festival was a lost cause.

        So, the next time that you are tempted to apply to a "festival" that you have not personally attended, do not assume.  Instead, I highly recommend that you ask some or all of the following questions:

1. Have the same promoters been operating the event for several years?
2. If wine is to be tasted, what are the hours and days of the wine tasting and what brand, vintage and years of wine will be tasted?  (You can google the answer to find out if the wine will be a “draw” or not.)
3. Are any of your vendors returning from last year and what are their names and numbers?  (Call them to verify!)
4. How many people attended last year?  (If they don't know, ask how many bottles of wine they went through)
5. Exactly where will the event be advertised?  Will there be street signage and if so, what will the signs say?
6. Will all of the vendors be fine artists or will there be crafters, roofing companies and random strays?
7. What were the total sales by vendor last year and/or average sales per vendor?

If you have other suggestions on questions to ask before committing to a festival, I’d love to hear them.  Meanwhile, I will relish the fact that at least I only made this mistake once – this summer.