Promoters Of `Smash A Chihuly' Contest Aren't Targeting The Artist Himself, But The Provincial Chasing Of Big Names

Usually, glass artist Dale Chihuly runs the party. This time it's being literally run around him. On Thursday evening, in Belltown's Lava Lounge, eager contestants in a "Glorious Ruins Raffle" will vie for the honor of smashing a signature Chihuly.

Is this a prank, an insult or a promotion?

None of the above, say its organizers. Like all the best kinds of conceptual art, the event is intended to generate resonance. It is and is not about art as a commodity - but the proceeding is meant as a critique. The target isn't Chihuly at all, however. The real target is provincial thinking.

The "Ruderi Gloriosi Lotterie" (the title is Italian, in deference to Murano's Venini factory, where Chihuly studied) is being mounted by the Mystic Sons of Morris Graves. Founded early in 1991, this is a cheeky, secretive fraternal order that seeks to promote "resurgent regionalism."

Artist Charles Krafft heads up the Mystic Sons - and he's usually its only public face. But all the members, most of whom grew up in Seattle, share the status of "resurgent realists."

"When you visit museums around the world," says Krafft (who has just exhibited in London), "you often see the same `big' names; it's homogenized. But, in theory, it should always be quite different. A provincial museum should present its area's culture.

"Chasing so desperately after blue-chip names," adds Krafft, "just exposes low cultural self-esteem. Put more simply, it makes us

look like rubes."

Thus, smashing a Chihuly makes a positive point?

"Absolutely. He's a Northwest artist."

There is a tie here to Morris Graves himself. This Northwestern painter (now retired to California) was, 40 years ago, as lionized as Chihuly. Graves, too, hung out with celebrities, from Indira Gandhi to Rita Hayworth. His work was purchased by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. But Graves was also a fan of Dada, one of the genres that aimed to shatter art's "traditional" values.

Dada insisted on bringing life into art. It tried to involve spectators in the work itself. This is a credo that Krafft's Mystic Sons adhere to and, in Dada terms, their event is already working. No matter who becomes the "designated hitter," several thousand people already own a ticket. For a month, they've all been discussing the concept, gossiping in cafes, bars and galleries. Some of these conversations, too, are occurring in Europe.

That came as a real surprise, says Krafft. "We had faxes, e-mails, even requests by courier." Critics and gallery owners, some concealing their names, have made buys from Venice, Prague, Paris and Cologne. Others received tickets from Seattle-based friends.

Most foreign participants see the event as appropriate. Says Geraldine Rudge, who edits Britain's staid Crafts magazine, "Dale Chihuly is a truly inspired maker. He developed his medium from functional ware through sculptural form, into installations and performance art. Given that progression, it does seem logical."

Art critic Roderick Conway-Morris lives in Venice and works for the International Herald Tribune. He sees the "smash" as a facet of Chihuly's fame: "He is the world's most flamboyant, prolific and high-earning glass artist. Look at `Chihuly Over Venice,' the huge breadth and scope and publicity. That was a happening, not just an exhibition."

A different journalist from Venice takes a different tack: "He loves publicity so much he's been asking for it."

Some of the Mystic Sons of Morris Graves agree. But they maintain their real target is journalists. Says one recent inductee to the lodge, "This is aimed at the media and Chihuly's sycophants. Their circus takes away from more compelling art." There is a pause while this Son clears his throat. "The ubiquity of his commercial machine is comical."

Enter a professional comic: KING-TV's John Keister, emcee of the popular local show "Almost Live." Keister has impersonated Chihuly in a sketch, a "Starsky and Hutch" parody called "Chihuly and Jones." In that, the artist halts criminals in their tracks - by threatening to break a work if they continue wrongdoings.

Although not "officially" a Mystic Son, Keister is conducting events on Thursday. He, too, says he has "nothing against" Chihuly: "He's just become a brand name for wealthy people, people who know nothing about art but wanna own some."

As he contemplates this, his animation grows.

"It's just what `a Chihuly' has come to mean. You don't need to know anything but `It's a Chihuly!' You know it's guaranteed to look cool there in your lobby. Not like some potentially confusing painting.

"We are breaking a piece of art," he concedes. "But we're not destroying a Chihuly. We're just making a lot more little ones. Besides, as long as people know it's a Chihuly, a shard or a chip is good enough."

It is a Chihuly, says the donor, who asked not to be named. He was approached a year ago by Lodge 93, the Seattle arm of the Mystic Sons. They wanted him to donate his scalloped bowl, with proceeds benefiting their Northwest Fine Art Search and Rescue Team. At first, he said no; he loves the delicate "Seaform."

Then, three months ago, he agreed to the scheme.

"I had to be sure it was in the right spirit. That piece has been part of my aesthetic life. Now, however, I can share it. I am confident it will live forever."

For a month, his piece has been on show at the Lava Lounge. Framed by the bar's Tiki theme, he feels it looks "perfect." Adds the donor, "I don't know about Chihuly himself. But I've gone in to see it a couple of times. It does look great; well-installed, well-lit."

No one will confirm its actual value - and conjecture on the subject varies rather wildly. There is the "$5,000; it's a small one" school. But there are also visitors in suits. Some note that, "in Europe," a large Chihuly piece from a gallery can easily cost $35,000. "I've never seen so many guys in suits in the Lava," says next-door business owner Martha Manwaring.

That's true, say staffers in the Lava Lounge. But one face the "suits" haven't seen is Chihuly's. Despite queries, he has also refrained from comment. Still, the donor hopes he understands.

"This is not a malicious thing at all. With a lesser artist it might be seen that way. But a talent and reputation like his can withstand it."

In some ways, certainly, Chihuly should be flattered. Yes, the raffle has garnered global gossip. But it has also generated some real discussion. That is art as communication, not possession. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Giving 'em a break

The Ruderi Gloriosi Lotterie is Thursday at the Lava Lounge, 2226 Second Ave. Tickets are $1 each and will be sold right up until the drawing. Closed-circuit viewing is planned for Shorty's Coney Island, one door away.

Rules of the competition:

1. The winning ticket will be drawn at 10 p.m.

2. The prize will not leave the premises in one piece.

3. Ticket-holders need not be present to win. They may name a designated hitter. Otherwise, the right to demolish goes to the first ticket-holder who is physically present.

4. The work will be shattered with a specially made mace, commissioned from Louie Raffloer, founder of the Black Dog Forge.

5. The winner will be notified and all shards delivered to him or her.