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This was the 28th annual installment of this community staple, run by the Cape Coral Rotary Club.  It's extensively advertised in local media, well supported by local businesses,  and (with the notable exception of the 2010 event, which was held in bone-chilling cold and rain), it always pulls a large crowd.  And it did this year, too, despite stiff competition from the more upscale Bonita Springs National Art Festival held about 35 minutes' drive south. 

The shows are different in many respects--Bonita positions itself as a prestigious national show, with geographic appeal to the deep-pocketed, recession-proof denizens of Naples and the golf course communities extending north into Fort Myers. 

Cape Coral, by contrast, has been buffeted hard by the recession.  Founded in 1957 and designed to appeal to World War II veterans who were looking for inexpensive family housing, it retains a blue-collar, mom-and-pop feel and strong military ethos.   This show bills itself as a community event, and the advertising touts family fun and the local businesses lining the show venue, as well as the art.   

And art there was! This is a large (280-artist) show with a long layout--it stretches for about a third of a mile down Cape Coral Parkway, a four-lane road separated by a grassy median.  And although there was an oversaturation of  buy-sell jewelery (about which more later) and a number of booths offering low end craft items, according to some folks I talked with, there was also a strong cadre of high-end artists (some of whom were there as a second choice to Bonita Springs.)

The single-street layout made for an exemplary load in/out, which I'll share in detail in case this is read by show directors who might want to "go to school" on this setup--because it really works well.  On Friday night, artists check in at a storefront and large parking lot one block north of the show's center point, get their booth number and packet, and wait for city officials to close the parkway to civilian traffic (roughly at 7 PM).  Traffic flow is reversed for the entering artists.  If your booth is on the north side of the parkway, you enter the show at the west edge , drive east along the outer lane, and then pull over to the inner lane to park at your booth space.  Artists with south-facing booths enter from the east side, and do the same.  This keeps one lane open for vans, and one lane for parking (and it's strictly enforced.)  (Numbers are easy to see even in near darkness, as  each is displayed on a fluorescent sign with orange background erected in the exact center of each space.)  Lighting along the street is a bit dim for a central shopping corridor.  Smart artists bring flashlights or headlamps. 

If you chose, you could wait until 6 AM Saturday morning, but all artist vehicles had to be off the road by 8 AM.  Artist parking was in several large grassy fields a block south of the parkway. 

Now, on to the show!

A cold front moved through SW Florida on Friday afternoon and dropped the temperatures into the 40s and 50s for Day One.  There was only intermittent sun and a moderate north wind.  It didn't affect the crowds; streets were still packed.  But they mostly kept their hands in their pockets.  I made back booth fee with a little to spare, but that was it.  My average sale per customer, which has been running around $125 so far this season, plummeted to less than $40.  My neighbors reported similar results.  But a few friends of mine, with slightly warmer south-facing booths, reported better results.  Weird. 

Day two dawned with no wind, clear skies, and a forecast for temperatures that just might brush 70 degrees.  In Florida snowbird season, that's perfect for a show: Cool enough to keep potential customers off the beaches and warm enough to get 'em browsing the tents.  But would they take those hands and wallets out of their pockets? I decided to tweak my display, adding a small rack of 8x10 mats and some left-over 2012 calendars to give myself some lower price points. 

For most of the morning and early afternoon, it didn't make that much difference.  The booth traffic was brisk, but very little merchandise was moving out the door.  I found myself smiling at one apologetic compliment from non-buyers after another and answering routine questions--"Canon, not Nikon; photographs, not paintings; no, I don't have any photographs of  ". (My favorite request in that genre was from a young Goth couple sporting dark tattoos and nose rings who pleasantly asked if I had any pictures of a Raven.)

In my little spare time, I scribbled sarcastic headlines for the blog I was going to have to write today.  And then, as every browser headed out the door empty-handed, I reminded myself that the fat lady hadn't sung yet, and there was lots of time left to turn this show around. 

And then, miraculously, it did.  At about 1:30, a be-back--my first of the show!--returned and purchased a large canvas.  Then a new customer walked in and quickly bought three more. Still another be-back waited patiently for 15 minutes while I totaled and bagged, then bought still another.  By 3 PM, I'd matched my sales total for the much-tonier shows at Coconut Point and Estero, and happily wadded up my draft notes of snarky headlines and threw them in the trash. 

Traffic tapered off the last two hours, giving me a little time to poll my neighbors on their results--nearly all were satisfied, and one artist, who also did the show last year, said she was up 35 percent. 

So, how to account for this fourth-quarter flurry?  Had I, a longtime Denver Broncos fan,  been channeling my inner Tim Tebow? 

Well, the improving weather certainly could have played a part.  And so did plain dumb luck, I'm sure.  But I think most of it had to do with the show's long, narrow layout, coupled with my booth space at the extreme east edge of the show.  Folks just entering the show knew that no matter how much they liked my work, there were still nearly 280 booths to go, so they delayed buying decisions.  And by the time they got to the far end of the show, a warm restaurant was more appealing than a trudge back to find an artist they'd seen two hours earlier.  It's a long walk for anyone in their 30s, let alone the older demographic of SW Florida. 

 I was fortunate to wind up with a good sales total. In fact, given that Tebow's Broncos got pasted by the Patriots 45-10, it's fair to say I had a far better weekend than he did.  Most of my neighbors did OK, except for the jewelers.  Among other photographers I polled, things seemed satisfactory.  I didn't have time to walk the show extensively, but I didn't see a lot of large packages being carried around. (Hopefully some of you other artists will chime in with your impressions.)

This show certainly delivers the crowds.  But given its size, layout, and demographics, you need at least some low-price items.  And if you provide larger work, be it 2-D or 3-D, it would probably help close sales if you offered delivery to your customers' cars and/or homes.  No matter your medium, you need patience and lots of business cards.

All that said, I've got long-term concerns about this show.

* Although the Rotary, in a commendable attempt to simplify the application process this year, moved to Entrythingy, the fact remains that they want the entire fee--$326 for application/single booth/sales tax--when you apply.  Checks are cashed promptly.  If you don't get accepted, you're promised a refund of all but the app fee, but they don't promise by when.  (It would be good for a reader who's been rejected to weigh in on this, if you're out there.) It's reasonable to speculate that this policy isn't going to change anytime soon in this cash-strapped city...but the organizers should be aware that it's a deterrent to artists that will make it difficult to fill the show in coming years. 

* The show was a bit smaller than last year, and that's not necessarily a bad thing (especially given the layout). However, by my count, over 65 of the participating artists were jewelers--nearly 25 percent.  And several of the jewelers I spoke with had walked the show, and reported that about a quarter of those were buy-sell.  One, who normally has an average sale of about $150, said that she sold only her lowest priced items, averaging barely $50.  Another said, "It's really hard to sell quality work when three booths down, people can buy something for $10." We've all seen an influx of buy-sell cause a death spiral of formerly well-regarded shows, and one can only hope that it doesn't happen here.