Who: Alak Tarr alak & Vanessa Marianna honest_art What: A business proposition When: Friday, October 23, afternoon Where: Open Artist Market Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Status: Closed/Completed GDoc
~*~
Open Artist Market liked to host a monthly gallery for up-and-comers. They turned the huge sprawling space into an artist's party zone with music, lights, and sometimes special effects. It was the one time of the month when people were able to recognize how much went into running the place. Many of the regulars tended to take it for granted until they started up the New Wave Weekend. Alak Tarr had been contracted to host their music for the October New Wave Weekend. He'd spent four hours finding the first five tracks.
There was a lot riding on his success at the gallery. If he did well, it could open the doors for him to many other opportunities, get him out of clubs and into higher profile events. In his worst nightmares, Alak wound up as a wedding DJ playing music from before he was born for drunk middle-aged people who thought they were back in high school again. He wanted way more than that from his life. It was absolutely not acceptable for him to get stuck being a hack after how hard he'd fought his parents for his musical interests.
Adjusting the volume on the speakers, Alak monitored the space as far as he could see to tell if the music was too loud or not loud enough. Lots of smiles were visible. No one was holding their ears. He figured it was fine for the moment so he stooped to go through his bag for another flash drive with another two hours worth of tracks on it. They were about to swap out one of the main walls for another set of panels. It was their big Houdini moment since the wall panels detached and rotated before locking together again to display an entirely different artist.
He'd been impressed the first time it'd happened.
It was old hat now.
Someone was heading closer to his station. Alak noticed their feet out of the corner of his eye. He stood abruptly, clutching the drive in his left hand while he fought for a smile. The woman was a lot classier than the usual crowd at the Open Artist Market. He really hoped he wasn't about to be lectured on his music choices. There was a reason Alak only spun the classics in mix tracks and older, supposedly sophisticated people didn't react well to that reason since it was because the sound was boring.
Sliding his headphones off his head to dangle around his neck, he forced a smile, "Hey there, can I help you with anything?"
~*~
Being new to the area Vanessa had decided to check out the Open Artist Market after being told about it by a colleague. She was working hard on the art gallery ahead of the re-opening at the end of the month and for the opening night she needed a list of things, first on that list was music which was how she had ended up here.
She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected to find here but she had already seen a few things which she would be making sure not to do. The revolving panels for example. She could learn from mistakes at the very least and whoever was providing catering samples weren’t to be used either, Vanessa found their goods to be a little too sweet and overworked.
However as she turned she noticed a young man, playing music she recognised though it wasn’t quite how she was used to hearing it. “Hello” she greeted her accented voice smooth and friendly, “Maybe you can. Tell me what made you decide to use classical music, it isn’t usually a choice for the youth of these days” she smiled.
~*~
Great, Alak thought to himself as he maintained a friendly smile, I get to explain how yes, people under the age of fifty can enjoy music which is more than screaming and electronic sounds.
There were a lot of stereotypes surrounding music. Alak didn't support any of them. He came from an upperclass family of great historic significance in Russia. Most people knew messing with his mom? Was the fastest ticket to Hell they could ever get punched. In America, he blended fairly well which was both a blessing and a curse. It was nice to have someone assume he was a regular younger guy. The fact they assumed that meant he was into death metal or brutal dubstep was the opposite of nice.
"Music is a lot like art for me. It's subjective. What might appeal to one person might make another want to take out their own eardrums with a hairpin. Classical music is designed with specific rhythms, specific rules, specific tonal sequences. It was created to be appealing. I just mix it up a little to keep it feeling fresh for the audience. Are you musically inclined?"
It was the polite thing to ask. His parents had taught him good manners even if their business wasn't the most polite. Alak would always try to do the right thing so he could get the best references possible out of every job. Who knew when he might get referred to someone willing to pay more than his usual rate? The sky was the limit in America. Some thought those days were gone, but they were lazy from what Alak could tell. If he worked for it, really worked for it, he could go anywhere and do anything.
~*~
Vanessa hadn’t meant to imply that he couldn’t enjoy whatever music he liked, it was simply surprising which couldn’t really be argued with. The classical radio programs weren’t exactly hip and down with the majority of young people. She was honestly curious, whether it was a personal preference or a business choice.
Being new to the area as well as the country Vanessa was unaware of Alak’s family connections, not that it would have influenced her of course it was up to Alak to prove his way in the world, not his family.
She smiled as he spoke, he was very eloquent and it reminded her of her own passion for art. And naturally it made complete sense. Obviously he’d made the choice through the love of music itself which was what she had been hoping to hear. “Not as much as you it seems” she told him with a smile, “I played piano as a child but I admit I do not have the passion for it that I do for art”
~*~
"Music is my art. That's what I tell people who are artists."
Alak gave her a very real smile while he took her in. She screamed class. There was an obvious look of sophistication to her which meant she likely dealt in art. Artists tended to have their own style. Alak got along better with artists than dealers since he understood them more. His devotion to his craft was as passionate as any artist's could ever be. When the chips had been on the table to choose a life which made his parents proud or made him happy? Happiness had won for Alak over familial pride. He'd paid dearly for that choice, too.
Switching the playlist set to go next on his computer, he asked, "What brings you here today? Looking for a new artist to promote? A new place to display? It's not the average gallery. I do like it here. It's not the kind of place my mother would frequent, but the people are nice and the quality of the products is high enough to where I'm not ashamed to spin tracks for the management."
There had been a few places who had tried to contract him where Alak had said no outright. He wasn't a snob. He did have standards. Alak wanted to move up in the world. He didn't want to continuously keep sliding down the ladder.
~*~
Vanessa smiled, that was a good point he’d made, “Then my art is more in appreciating the art of others” she told him with a wry smile.
Class was something Vanessa could not hide or deny, it was natural and she wasn’t ashamed of it. She was who she was and her background had been a lucky one but that wasn’t all there was to her. If others chose to only see her upbringing then that was their problem not hers as far as she was concerned.
“Actually I have the artists and the space, what I’m looking for is somebody to help me create the right atmosphere for our re-opening” she told him, “Which is why you caught my eye, or ear as it were. If you were ashamed I do not think you would be here, you don’t strike me as the type to sell out like that”
~*~
Getting worked was something Alak was used to from unfortunate experience with his family. Both his mother and his father enjoyed dabbling in social espionage. It had been the environment of his youth in Russia. He thought, ironically, his mother would quite like this woman, strange seeing as his mother usually didn't like anyone. Alak was given leeway by virtue of being her son. He figured it was biology prompting her to care about him. Her flattery was enough to get a laugh out of him.
"I am not a sell out. That is true. I was honestly hoping you might be interested in my work. It's refreshing to meet someone willing to come out and state their intentions up front. It isn't always the case with those I know. Alak Tarr. I work as a producer, composer, arranger, and professional DJ. I would be glad to take a look at your space if you wanted to discuss the benefits of having a good sound and lighting system to compliment your gallery's displays."
He hadn't been required to set up lights for Open Artist Market. Their space was retrofitted to allow the most sunlight possible in. Alak only spun tracks for them. He had a lot of experience in lighting design with other events or stages. Work in the music industry came to those willing to look for it and commit. Alak had the drive to do both. His clients were guaranteed their satisfaction with his services. He couldn't promise to sell out their event, but he could promise to do all in his power to make certain the people who came? Enjoyed the atmosphere.
~*~
Vanessa stated what she saw, she knew some people took offence but in France especially it was simply what you did. Nobody had time for falseness not in business anyway.
“There is no use in dancing around things. It simply takes up time and energy, things best used elsewhere for both of us” Vanessa replied, “It sounds as though your skills are a little underused here. I would very much like for you to come and see what you think would be best both lighting and sound wise in the gallery” she told him with a nod.
Vanessa didn’t want false promises she wanted someone who would do the job to the best of their ability. It was her responsibility to ensure the marketing of the event and arrangement of the artworks brought in the visitors.
~*~
"You're good. I swear, if I had the money for art? I'd likely wind up buying something from you based on your recommendation alone."
Alak chuckled as he pulled out his business card from a media drive holder. The case was used to hold drives with stored soundtracks and mixes. It doubled as his business card dispenser only because the slots in it were the perfect size to hold the cards. He always had his tracks with him, too. There was never a bad time for music in his opinion. People could be changed around from mad to glad in minutes if the right soundtrack started up for their life. He'd diffused a lot of bad situations with a portable speaker system.
Handing her the card, he stated, "I'm very interested in working with you. You're right: I feel underused here. This is a great venue, but it's not taking me as far as I'd like to go. I have a feeling you're the kind of woman going a lot farther than this."
~*~
“Thank you, that is quite the compliment” Vanessa replied, she couldn’t deny that a lot of people had done so in the past but she prided herself on being open, honest and knowledgeable. Those things combined made her extremely good at her job.
It made perfect sense to use the space you had to it’s full potential, why bother with fancy card holders when you could keep them close to hand among the work you did. Diffusing situations was a skill and one not many people had, being able to do it with music was a special kind of skill. One that demonstrated deeper knowledge of music and people.
“Wonderful” she said taking his card, “I certainly plan to and I think it could be a journey we at least partially take together Mr Tarr, it should be an adventure I believe and a lucrative one. Creatively and otherwise”
~*~
They could go on any kind of journey the woman wanted if it meant Alak could get better gigs. He knew he was young, knew Christie was young, but he wanted to get a steady enough business going to put a payment down on a ring. There was no question in his mind as to who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and it was Christie. Marriage wasn't an immediate necessity in their lives. They could wait. Alak didn't want to wait to do his part to prove to her exactly how serious he was about her in spite of the ability to wait.
"Thank you. I look forward to the ride. Hope you enjoy the rest of your tour here. I'll be in touch."
Alak meant it seriously, too.
There weren't enough jobs flowing across his desk for him to push one aside. Alak needed to build a steady client base not only for Christie but also for himself. He'd thwarted his parents with his desire to pursue music. He wanted to prove he could succeed in the field. That meant more to him than any amount of money. Respect the way his parents viewed it was outside what Alak wanted, but he did still have a part of him which wanted to make them proud---or at least to prove them wrong in thinking his lifelong dream was a waste of time.
He'd take what he could get with a smile on his face and gladly shake the hands of any fairy godmothers who wanted to fly into his life.