To be perfectly frank, I almost didn't go: I was either out of town, or recovering from a cold contracted while vacationing, during the last of the cancellation period, so I basically went ’cuz I'd already paid the money; and it turns out I was glad I did.
Gathering was problematic for a number of reasons: I wasn't that excited by Louisville to begin with (how could it compete with Portland and all those wonderful gardens? not to mention New Orleans next year) —it just didn't seem to have much going on, culturally. This is unfair. To outsiders (maybe even insiders) Detroit no doubt has less, (though we do have a world class art museum, and, last I checked, a very nice zoo, with gardens), and I found plenty to do. There is a decent number of beautifully restored commercial buildings near the hotel, some very good restaurants, plus a lovely plaza next to the river right next to the hotel.
A shot out the window next to the elevator. (The moving lights are a reflection of an elevator, in fact.) The bar was an aquarium, and there were also a couple of enclosures with colorful weaverbirds; the area behind the registration counter was a subtle waterfall. So the hotel had interesting decor.
Speaking of hotels, the Galt Hotel is lovely. Huge glass chandeliers and beautiful William Morris style carpeting in the conference areas on the first and second floors, plus many windows which gave an airy feeling—I didn't feel nearly so shut in, cut off from the outdoors as I typically do when staying at one of these things. (It's summer. We should be outside!) The rooms—suites, actually—were definitely the most luxurious we could recall—I really felt we were getting something for our $118+room tax/night—and I particularly appreciated the double doors between the sitting room and bedroom. My roomie could stay up watching crime shows and I could sleep. Even in the afternoon. Marvelous.
There was also an in-room refrigerator. One of the ways I save money, keep the vacation caloric intake down and roughage level up is to (try to) limit restaurant meals to one a day and eat my own stuff the rest of the time, so this is a plus. Some other people wished for accessible microwaves, and I wouldn't’ve minded an in-room safe, but this was a quibble. Since I drove, I appreciated the free parking (you'd think any hotel would have this for its customers, but no.) As usual, the elevators were busy, but they were cleverly made glass-sided, so we could look out on the river as we went up and down. I was on the tenth floor, so the times I got impatient waiting, I got an excellent cardio workout, as the steps were considerably steeper than is currently allowed by code.
Code—and fire marshalls—was a major issue this year. The high points (at least for me hereto) of the Gathering were the demos and Open Torch, which is an evening activity typically scheduled Friday and Sunday nights, during which you can go around to the various tables and try out different kinds of torches and glass. This year added tools, with the creation station arm rest system being available (though I didn't learn about it till Open Torch broke down, rats.) Last year they added another evening torchy activity on Thursday night, the flame-off, (registration usually opens Thursday afternoon, so we can start bright and early Friday morning) in which folks have exactly an hour to make a bead (or something) which is then auctioned off as a fund-raiser. Meanwhile we can all sit or stand around and watch these folks do their thing.
Given that torches have now gotten large enough to bring down ceiling tiles in two story rooms (though the last time one such was demonstrated was three years ago, at Alexandria— that fire marshall seemed to enjoy us) the fire marshall has to be involved in the planning from the get-go, and Lisa St. Martin, our Mistress of Fire, did indeed get all this vetted; but then the guy retired.
To put it bluntly, his replacement was a prick. No argument we advanced—and I gather St Martin had the guy who wrote the code of the fire regulations pertaining to us calling the city fire marshall to say we were good—would do. Every time Lisa answered an objection, he had a different reason for saying no. He wasn't having torches in the hotel and that was flat. The city's attorney sided with this guy, and the mayor was too cowardly to override them, despite our years of experience and a proven safety record. (Any number of theories were advanced as to why this guy had such a problem—he was on a power trip, he didn't trust all those flighty women, or my favorite, he wanted a bribe.) Personally, I think the city of Louisville should get sued for breach of contract, but, though the organization now has a big enough budget to hire a director, I can totally understand why they wish to move on.
A great many kudos, therefore, go to the organizers, who found an alternate venue (within easy walking distance) for the FlameOff and Open Torch. They got around the demos by pre-taping them, and then having the speakers present to discuss them during the allotted times. Most—I'd say 2/3—of the attendees actually preferred this setup, though there are still some glitches to work out (the bright lighting made it hard for the demonstrators to see what they were doing while making the beads, and the video monitor was hard for them to read during the lecture, so they had difficulties co-ordinating their talk to what was on the screen).
Personally, I preferred the old system, though I'm willing to concede the new one allows for more questions and keeps people on time. Someone suggested a low volume soundtrack to give the demos more of a live feel, and I personally felt adding enough sound back so we could hear the torches being turned up and down, and glass clinking and what not would be helpful. Though the color was at times washed out, the focus was much improved over last year, when a lens/filter mismatch caused problems. (We've now had the same team doing the videographing since Alexandria, and they're great guys, and get better every year.)
The FlameOff, Open Torch, (and the pre- and post- conference torch classes) were held across the street at the convention center, which was under the state fire marshall, who nonetheless required totally different fittings for the torches. 23 hours later, Lisa and her lovely assistant, Larry Brickman, (he of the ultimate beautiful boy beads, those fabulous warring states dotties) had them swapped over. Even with out all the grief that happened this year, Mistress of Fire is the most thankless job in the entire organization, and it amazes me that Lisa is still doing it. I was happy to see that both see she and Larry didn't look like they were going to fall over from exhaustion (I truly learned what the expression of eyeballs rolling loosely in one's head meant) this time around, even with all the aggravation.
So: the conference leads off with the flame off (which serves as an informal demo) Thursday night, has lectures and demos Friday from 9–5, Gallery Walk and Open Torch in the evening, Bead Bazaar and Banquet Saturday (during which a lot of that stuff gets auctioned) and then more demos and lectures on Sunday. I skipped the Banquet, and was too busy selling to see much of the bazaar, but I have plenty to say about the rest. This year I also attended a pre-conference workshop on jury slides, then spent Thursday day hiking at a beautiful nearby state park.
But all that's for future posts:)
Unless otherwise noted, text, image and objects depicted therein copyright 1996--present sylvus tarn.
