Artisan Venice - By Venice Artists FOR Venice Artists.

There's been a lot of talk lately about how the Boardwalk vendors aren't really that Venice anymore. Cheap Chinese jewelry sets from Santee Alley for $2.00, and packaged incense and soap you can get anywhere seem to be more prevalent than local arts and crafts created in front of your face by local artists following their bliss. There are lovely and spirited exceptions to be sure (the ones you'd likely read about here), but ask anyone standing around the beach Police station early Tuesday mornings for the weekly Boardwalk booth lottery, and you will get an earful about how scarce the legit artists seem to be down there these days.

Which is why it's so great that there is a new Art venue straight under the shadow of the lit-up VENICE sign hanging at Windward & Pacific, called Artisan Venice. Fittingly, and poetically justified, it is in the exact spot recently vacated by the chain Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf that locals wanted no part of. From the hand painted sign to the art spilling out on to the sidewalk (most often actively being worked on by a local artist right then and there), it is clear that Artisan is by and for Venice artists.


I happened to be biking by after being juggled by another story subject (Sigh. Los Angelenos, you CAN be better. You don't HAVE to be flakes!), and thought, "Oh, right. I can go check out that corner place that's not open yet when I bike by early mornings and see what's what." So I cruised on in, and one of the guys inside saw my Minnesota Vikings shirt (same colors as Lakers, and I have school spirit) and said, "Are you from Minnesota? Discount on anything in here if you are!" Well, that cemented the friendship immediately, as it does, and I shook hands with co-owner, Darren Hall, also from Minnesota. Duluth to be exact. He had a few minutes, so I sat down and learned about the spirit of the place, while smelling the foggy air and acrylic fumes of the skateboard painter working right outside.


Darren grew up and went to school in Duluth ("In the third largest white ghetto in the United States", a fact I did not know), and though he loved music and art, his track seemed to be heading towards a thrilling built-in HVAC career, courtesy of his step-dad's biz, like most of the other guys in the area (at best). But then he thought it was time to go and introduce himself to the Father he'd never met, a guy who blew through Minnesota back in the 80's on tour, named Daryl Hall. Hall of Hall & Oates. (In a stroke of sheer synchronicity, H & O are in the news today for canceling their Arizona gig in protest of that state's dumb immigration stance. Good for you, Hall & Oates!) After the somewhat awkward backstage meeting, Darren went on tour all over the world with his Dad's band, and saw a lot of cool things. He wound up visiting a cousin in L.A. at one point, who brought him down to Venice. He straight away thought and knew, "This is it. This is home." (I remember that exact feeling myself, and could probably look up the exact day in the archives, as profound as it was.)

After some stints doing awful collections phone calls, and the much more fun video game testing, Darren got a gig working at a smoke shop on the Boardwalk, where he developed good relationships with a slew of glass blowers, and learned to love, as he put it, "the Boardwalk Hustle". After a while of that, and helping the business owner to prosper, he began to have thoughts - and a lot of encouragement from locals - of opening his own business, with his business partner, Steve Avila (an Ohio boy). They tossed around ideas, among which was a 24 hour, cheap and good pizza delivery (which we could still use, by the way, guys!), and just knew that "whatever it was gonna be, no matter what we were gonna do, it was gonna be cool".


Knowing that he could get a ton of glass merchandise to open shop with, they began there, until hitting on the idea of creating a space for ALL Venice artists to show, create, and sell their works. It is a space that is "evolving daily", but that you can see is already a welcome and welcoming spot for art of all kind. When I was in there yesterday, there was the fore-mentioned guy out front spraying boards, there was a guy inside painting on t-shirts, and we were surrounded by the art of Venice artist, Jules Muck, on every inch of wall space - their first one person show. From handmade hippie chick dresses (that I love) to hand knit beanies, to those brilliant locally blown glass pieces and earthy jewelry - also being pliers-ed together right there by one guy - it is abuzz with the spirit of creativity.


Darren and Steve want artists to not only know about the space, they want it to be USED, and encourage artists to contact them about doing their actual work in the shop. I asked Darren how he goes about choosing the art, and he said, "We take anything. I don't judge art." (Um, I would like to introduce him to my college art professor that I'm still a little scarred by. Jerk.) The idea is that everybody gets 1 spot in Artisan, as you never know what someone is going to like. Then, if it does well, maybe they get some more spots ... you get the idea. Oh, and "They have to love the thing they want in here. People can tell." Meaning, you made something you love and want to share that with people, not buy junk downtown at marked down prices and then come down here to jack it up to sell to Boardwalk tourists.


This is all very important for Venice, as there is no shortage of complaints about how art isn't as accessible, and commerce has become such the bottom line. Not at Artisan. The love and community vibe is genuine, as evidenced by the stream of people stopping in to say hello or show their latest work to Darren and Steve.


To add to the fun, they've been hosting live music on weekend nights, to a full house that spills out onto Windward's sidewalk and makes full use of that VENICE spotlight. An Australian band saw the drum set in the corner last week, and asked if they could jam. They drew a crowd, including the long truck from Fire Station 63, whose Firefighters lined up to join the rocking mix of neighbors and tourists.

As for those tourists, it is Darren and Steve's hope that Artisan Venice will become one of those "Must See" spots when out-of-towners make their Venice pilgrimage. As it should be. It's always cooler to point to that bright, trippy spot on your wall back home, and say that you got it on a sunny day in Venice, California, by a friendly person that you got to know a bit while they created their work and shouted out greetings to their buddy from up the street. Cooler yet to know that no one else has it. It is original, and colorful, and maybe a little daring - just like the town itself.



Artisan Venice is supporting local art like perhaps no one else is right now. Let's return the favor by supporting them. Like Darren said, "Come in and believe!"



Artisan is:

Located at 80 A Windward Ave.

Reachable at 310.399.6424 or Artisanvenice@gmail.com

Open Tues-Thurs, 10-8/9 and Fri -Sun, 11ish-2 a.m. ish - with music!

Closed Mondays.

Travis Lett - Gjelina's Food Artist

"Travis Lett is a good person. He's an artist too, and his artistry is food." So said my friend, photographer Kwaku Alston when I was doing a story on him (2/16/10)and talking about his favorite Venice spots, of which Travis's restaurant, Gjelina, is most certainly one. I've seen Travis around for years, and couldn't be happier that such a really good guy's business endeavor has taken off so well {Full disclosure: it's one of my favorite Venice spots too, so this is gonna be totally biased, OK? Cool.}. So well that he's a super busy guy and it was only yesterday that we finally had a chance to sit down for a minute and share a few Venice/life stories.

Travis is from New Jersey, grew up there and then headed off to UC-Boulder to study fine art ... painting, sculpting, all of it. He always liked to cook, and his Grandparents were farmers in Ohio, so he grew up with a healthy appreciation for the origins and benefits of naturally grown produce, and the sources of food is still what interests him the most about the field. When interns or someone asks Travis when he decided to be a Chef, his answer is, "I still haven't." Meaning he never chose it as a career, but paid for his art schooling by bumping around as a prep cook, and got really good at it, until a friend in L.A. needed someone to help him open his sushi restaurant (Tengu), and off Travis went, for what he thought would be a few months.

That few months stretched out longer, and after crashing in Hollywood or his car for a while, that got old and he looked for a place in Venice, as he said, "It was obviously the place to be, where I gotta be ...". (I exactly know the feeling he speaks of. Clearly.) He found a place down by Speedway & Horizon, and has been in Venice ever since. 930 in the Westwood W Hotel hired Travis as Chef and he began his "rough draft" concept for what Gjelina would become in the future, by buying everything he could from Farmer's Markets, organic and local, and creating menus based on seasonal availability. This was a bit more radical at the time, especially for a Corporate-owned hotel restaurant, so after a while, it was time again for Travis to move on. (Yay).



While doing some restaurant consulting gigs, and trying to sort out what was next for him, Travis would walk from his place to Abbot's Habit to get coffee and work, and passed by this building on the corner every day, with an open half-door, with Pit Bulls inside. He's say hello to the dogs and soon got to talking with the owner, Fran Camaj, who just so happened to want to open a restaurant in the space there that he already owned. From the very beginning, they agreed on the local, organic, seasonal approach to a menu, as well as the idea that it needed to reflect the Venice Community. A third partner, Robert Schwan - another long-time Venice resident and restaurant manager (72 Market Street, Wabi Sabi) - shared their vision, and they took a chance on hiring a young Chef in Travis that valued his creative freedom and ideals (Oh, the designers and architect too - all Venice folk). They have backed him up every step of the way, and the mad success of Gjelina has been their reward for their (not much of a) risk.

Gjelina is named for Fran's Albanian mother, hence the Albanian "Gj" spelling. It is always busy, and people are always enjoying it. The back patio is my favorite place to sit, enjoying truly delectable dishes (and maybe some lovely wine?) in the sunshine of the 'hood. When discussing the fruition of his vision, Travis told me that "what's dear about it to me is that we're getting food from the right sources." They purchase their ingredients from local artisan producers, from olive oil makers, to cheese, to the gorgeous produce at the Farmer's Market right up the street. Because of their dedication to this, Travis said, "There is a shifting balance in the way people think about their food, you can feel it happening." And it's because of people like him that this is so.

Travis said he thought that if you communicate with, and understand your customers, offering them a fun, stylish place, with delicious food, created with integrity and in a value-driven sense, Venice would react resoundingly well - and they have. He straight up says that this restaurant was opened with the belief that it was meant to be HERE, for the people of the area, and would be irrelevant out of its context (like when people want him to open one up in Vegas). He wanted it to represent US, and be a place for the Community to gather (and these days the A-list celebrities really seem to want in on that Community too ... what are you gonna do?). The partners' idea was that they wanted to have a place "that seems like it was already here." I think they've nailed that ... that bustling corner of Abbot Kinney now seems like it was always so.

I told Travis that I have a problem, and that is that I love certain things on his menu SO much, that I have to get them every time, lest I be haunted by them for days later (looking at you, Gruyere/Caramelized Onion/Fromage Blanc/Arugula Pizza & Butterscotch Pot de Creme with Salted Caramel and Creme Fraiche - of which I have said I might want it to be my last taste on Earth. For real.). He laughed and said where some people might take off the 4 least-selling items on a menu, he'd rather take off the 4 BEST sellers, so that people try something new, as he wants his guests to "Experience this place WITH me." I promise, in that case, to open my taste buds up next time, at least a little. Which is also why the delish BLT you might love and want every time may not always be on the menu. The tomatoes out of season will not be served by Travis at Gjelina, but when they're back and thriving, you'll appreciate that ol' sandwich all the more. (and those tomatoes will soon be grown right on Gjelina's own rooftop garden!) The same bit of a rebel (in a city - Greater L.A. - of ass-kissers, let's face it) yell comes out with Travis in the little comment on the front of the menu that says, "changes and modifications politely declined". I completely respect this, as I feel like it's his vision, no ma'am, you cannot have your dressing on the side, hold the everything, annoying little requests. But Travis explains it more like it's not his elite Chef that knows everything better than you stance, it's that "I'm kind of a Socialist when it comes to my Restaurant ... I want to please everyone the same." So the dishes are all prepared the same way, he encourages his staff to not spend extra energy on one person over another, and if customers are cool, they may get the extra attention to their experience, vs. the ones who like to hear themselves bitch about everything (my read on them, not his).



We chatted in the sunny, huge-window-ed upstairs of Gjelina, that is now a cool apartment-type place to kick it, but may soon host private dinner affairs. What a great space to talk about Venice and one's place in it - overlooking all the AKB businesses and foot traffic, people honking, waving, and dinging bike bells below us.

And speaking of bike bells ... I was telling Travis about my stolen/returned Delores the Bike story to explain my desire to build Community and tell our stories to each other, and it turns out he has a good one of his own. His Beach Cruiser was taken from his yard, an all too often told bummer of a tale. He wrote it off, and hoofed it around instead for about six months. Then one day he was leaving his house and there was his bike, back in the yard, having been fully improved, complete with freshly pumped up tires, and even some replaced parts. He said there may have been some Burning Man Playa dust on it, but he couldn't be sure if it was the thief's, or his own leftover memories. How about that?! Another one that makes you go, "Only in Venice". That would also go for Travis's feelings about Gjelina, and where he wants to be.

EAT LOCAL!

(Extra points if you can bike or walk there. Which we can.)


Gjelina
1429 Abbot Kinney Blvd.
Venice, 90291
310.450.1429

Zingara

You really can't help but to be drawn into the bright shop on Abbot Kinney that is Zingara. It's a "Gypsy Emporium", and that is the perfect name for it (in fact, Zingara IS Italian for "gypsy"). Especially if you've ever strolled by on First Fridays and heard the band that plays on the porch (and now in the backyard because people get uptight about silly stuff), The Petrojvic Blasting Company. They are all straight up Gypsy Balkan Folk jams, and even have a Gypsy Caravan they brought over from Europe, that for now is living in Zingara's backyard.


Donna Humphrey grew up in L.A., and lives in Venice. She used to have an Espresso Bar in Culver City and then sold that to open what would become Zingara on the Boardwalk. She had her booth down at the beach for 6 months (and loved it - besides the moving everything in and out every day), until she found the little cottage on Abbot Kinney (formerly The Goddess) where her lovely store now resides.


Her Grandma on her Mother's side was a gypsy, and Donna was always drawn to that Bohemian, International eclectic vibe that one conjures up with the word "gypsy". It shows in both her decor and her merchandise. Brightly colored everything beckons to you from the sidewalk. Once inside the door, you're not sure what to look at first, it's all so fun and interesting. Her criteria for what she wants in her store are basically these three things: Authentic (no mass produced schlock). Fair Trade (very important. nothing from a dang sweat shop). Handcrafted (the more local, the better). It's a little like taking a trip around the world in there, and you can tell by the quality of everything, that Donna sticks to her guns about her basic business tenets.

Of these things, the one that I covet most is the custom ordered (of a million color and finish swatch possibilities) Clog Boots by Sven (of Minnesota, y'all!). I want the boots, but you can get them in normal clogs, different heights, furry stuff inside or not, and in honestly every color - even metallics - of the spectrum. Dope. And good for your posture.


The kid room is precious, filled with hand-knit sweaters from South America, little clogs, darling tights, fun shoes, little embroidered tunics, and whimsical little toys from all over the place. You can doll up your little one, while feeling pretty decent that you supported an actual artisan that was paid a decent wage.


There is a transformed bathroom/showroom full of aquatic themed ornaments and trinkets, and a kitchen with decorations and vintage aprons to present to a fun hostess.


Donna accepts items from local craftspeople and designers, and there is fun evidence of that all around, from jewelry to hats and gloves, and clothes re-fashioned and made new again from vintage pieces. Meaning one of a kind, and we all like to not look like everyone else, I hope.


When I asked Donna how she finds all the goods, she said, "Actually, things find me." I like that. And I like the Ulf Andersson dresses, the real Espadrilles from Spain (on sale!), the Masai beaded sandals from Kenya, the sweater with an Airstream trailer printed on cashmere, the plastic floor mats from Thailand that look like rugs, the Papal Picado - punched paper art from Mexico that adorns the whole store (see, you also learn things while there!), and again ... those sirens of my shoe world, the Sven clog boots.


Donna loves the COMMUNITY of Venice, and said that those who move in and don't get it, usually leave. True. She opens her store for First Fridays Fun every time (with that great band AND S'mores!), but also has that big, lovely backyard that she's open to having as a community meeting place, for non-profits, parties, etc ... and share the warmth that her entire space exudes. She's the Chairwoman of the Abbot Kinney Fest this year too, and informed me, which I didn't exactly know, that the Festival ITSELF is a non-profit. All the profits from that blast of a day go back to the community through a Grant process that local organizations can apply for ... ALL in Venice. In talking about that fact, Donna said, "This is Venice."


For Donna, Venice is also the ocean and the beach, the local Mountains (which she adores), and the Canal Club Happy Hour, all of which I will concur with. So maybe throw on something colorful from Zingara, ride your bike down to the beach for sunset, and wind up at the Canal Club for a Happy Hour mango margarita (or your own poison), and imagine yourself a real Gypsy. A Venice Gypsy.


Zingara
1507 Abbot Kinney Blvd.
Venice
310.392.6424
www.Zingaratrading.com