Art vends its way in unique outlets: Cigarette machines make stylish comeback

By Maria Puente
USA TODAY

You can buy art in a gallery, on the street, on the Internet. Now you can 
buy art -- authentic, one-of-a-kind works -- from an old cigarette vending 
machine. You can bet the Surgeon General never thought of that.

In coffeehouses and cafes, grocery stores and galleries, museum shops and 
hospitals, cigarette machines are making a comeback, only these aren't like 
any the Marlboro Man would recognize. Spiffily refurbished and elaborately 
painted, these machines, some dating to the 1950s, have been turned into 
pieces of art -- which in turn dispense handmade artworks no bigger than a 
pack of smokes, for prices ranging from $3 to $5.

It's called the Art-O-Mat project, a smile-inducing whimsy of artists T. 
Clark Whittington and George Doles III of the Big Tobacco town of 
Winston-Salem, N.C., where old cigarette machines have been discarded in 
the decade since they were banned from establishments accessible to children.

In 1997, the two got the idea of using the old machines to create a unique 
outlet for struggling artists to make a little money and expose their work 
to people who would otherwise never see it -- in effect blending art, 
commerce and marketing. And philanthropy: Some of the proceeds of sales are 
donated to an arts magnet school in Winston-Salem.

Thanks to a contact in the tobacco industry, they got hold of an old 
vending machine, decorated it and recruited a few local artists to make 
things -- tiny paintings, assemblages of found objects, glass and ceramic 
works -- to ''stock'' the machine. Some machines retain their appealing 
''retro'' look; others have been painted for specific venues. One installed 
in a children's hospital in Winston-Salem is painted to look like the 
classic Operation board game, Whittington says.

''We believe art should be progressive, yet personal and approachable,'' he 
says. ''We put the first one in a coffee shop, and they liked it so much 
they didn't want us to take it away. And after that, the word just spread.''

So far, Art-O-Mats have been installed in two dozen locations in North 
Carolina, Pittsburgh, Houston, Cleveland and New York, in venues ranging 
from an ordinary Borders bookstore to the grand Whitney Museum of American 
Art in New York City. Each machine vends works made by 20 to 22 different 
artists, who get half the proceeds of sales.

''The reaction has been very, very positive,'' says Steven Buttner, retail 
director at the Whitney, where a red-and-yellow Art-O-Mat recently was 
installed near the gift shop and restaurant. It's been so successful the 
museum had to order dozens more artworks to restock. ''It says that art is 
really available to everyone. It's demystifying art, and people are 
intrigued by that.''
Intrigued enough to buy and buy. At a Whole Foods grocery store in Houston, 
an Art-O-Mat painted in a Western theme with a horse-mounted cowboy has 
sold more than 550 artworks since it was installed in November. The same 
machine sold 200 pieces earlier, while it was at DiverseWorks Arts Space, a 
non-profit performing and visual arts center in the budding arts district 
of north downtown Houston.

''It's a new way of making creativity and art accessible, affordable and 
fun,'' says Diane Barber, visual arts director at DiverseWorks. ''It's 
something familiar -- a cigarette machine -- and yet out of the ordinary at 
the same time.''

Meanwhile, the artist roster has grown from a half-dozen to a collective of 
more than 100 (called Artists in Cellophane). That includes a group of 
artists in Krofofrom, a village in Ghana in West Africa, who use a 
1,000-year-old bronze casting technique to make miniature figural 
sculptures illustrating traditional African proverbs. Virginia Tyler, a 
Raleigh artist and college instructor who goes there every year to work 
with local artists, says villagers typically make less than $250 a year, so 
proceeds from Art-O-Mat sales go a long way.

''This is a way to relieve the economic strain on the village and encourage 
continuation of West African bronze casting and ancient traditions,'' says 
Tyler, who brings the tiny sculptures back in her luggage.

Some of the Art-O-Mat artists make miniature versions of their paintings or 
sculptures, hoping to attract attention to the larger versions. Others make 
things just for Art-O-Mat. Robert Ziller, a Pittsburgh painter and 
sculptor, ordinarily uses steel I-beams and other castoff material from old 
steel mills to make large sculptures. But through Art-O-Mat, he and another 
local artist, Michael Saxman, have sold more than 100 tiny assemblages of 
found objects -- bits of postcards, jewelry, electronic components and the 
like -- encased in clear resin.

''I'm going to do some small oil paintings, probably as models for larger 
pieces, little sketches of ideas,'' Ziller says. ''It's fun to do something 
on that small a scale that people can pick up for $5.''

The Art-O-Mats are so popular, Whittington (his partner, Doles, recently 
moved to Minneapolis) is having trouble keeping up with demand and 
continuing his own career as a graphic artist.

For one thing, attractive cigarette machines are getting hard to find. ''I 
saw one on eBay I really liked and could get for maybe $50, but it would 
cost $500 to ship it,'' he sighs.

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