08/03/02
Allie Shah; Star Tribune Staff Writer -- About an artist at the Uptown Art Fair

Cross the line into Robert Nemer's white tent at the Uptown Art Fair, and you'll hear his spiel.
He'll hand you a business card and tell you that he likes colors and shapes and that he only makes a limited number of prints and that he signs each one. It's good art and a good investment, he'll say.

With his easy smile and loud shirt, he makes friends fast. People pause, take a longer look at his colorful ceramics and acrylic paintings and, sometimes, join his mailing list.

He's hoping to make a few more of these friends this weekend at the art fair that he helped found, one of three this weekend in Minneapolis. Hundreds of thousands of people are expected to visit the annual fairs in Uptown, Powderhorn Park and Loring Park.

Though thousands of people will walk by Nemer's booth, it's the ones who cross his magic line - marked by a rubber mat - that trigger his sales pitch. "When they cross that threshold, that means they're interested," he explained Friday, the first day of the fair.

Nemer has a system for his sales, for drawing people in and gauging their interest. First, he brings a boombox - the music helps pass the time, and it lures people to his booth. Then he keeps two oscillating fans going so that people will be more likely to linger on a hot day. And once they're in his booth, he likes to ask browsers if they can see themselves owning one of his pieces. If they say yes, he asks them to write their e-mail address in a notebook he keeps handy.

Does all this work? "People are sensory," he said. "I throw a little color in there. Add a little music - it's like bees to the honey!"

If Nemer seems more like a salesman than an artist, well, that's because he's both. For years he toiled in marketing but recently he became a full-time artist. Not that he was a novice. In fact, he was one of six people who helped launch the Uptown Art Fair.

In 1963, he and five other art students at the University of Minnesota sold their art on the street in the original version of what has now become one of the largest art fairs in the country. Back then, Nemer was a long-haired, goateed artist with deerskin boots up to his knees and a tie-dyed tank top. A group of merchants from Uptown invited them to come and hawk their wares as a way to attract people to their stores. Nemer and the others lined up along Lake Street between Girard and Hennepin Avs. and propped their artwork up on the street curb.

People looked at them curiously. "There weren't many art fairs back then," Nemer said. A spell of rain forced the artists into a nearby bowling alley, where they bowled a few games and waited for the skies to clear.

He sold prints for $5 and $10 each, walking away from the weekend with about $25 worth of sales. "To me that was a million," he said.

Today, he's 57, clean-shaven with close-cropped hair. A tag identifying him as a participant in the Uptown fair dangles from his neck. "I feel like the grandfather of this thing," he said. His booth on Hennepin Avenue sits about 30 feet from the spot where he first sold his art.

After that first year, Nemer quit exhibiting at the Uptown fair, but for years, he attended, strolling the fair and looking around, but he didn't seriously consider applying for a booth himself. But last fall he decided it was time to devote more time to his art. He took the plunge, holing up in his studio at home in Minnetonka, creating. After all these years, he decided to sell again at the Uptown Art Fair. But this time, he had to apply. During the nearly 40 years he was away from it, the fair has grown from six people on a street corner to 385 artists spread across several blocks south west of W. 28th St. and Hennepin Av.

The application asked if he'd ever presented at the fair before. Yes, he wrote. When? He penciled in 1963.

He always knew there were different sides of him - the business side and the artistic side - and for much of his life he kept the two separate. Now, he said, he's found a way to marry the two personalities. Through his website and e-mail lists, he sells his art across the globe.

As he talked, his eyes shifted to a woman in a straw hat whose toe just poked over the line.

Nemer grinned and approached. "You know what you get for that?" he asked, fishing one of his cards from his pocket.

Carile Neale and her husband, Dan, stepped all the way into the booth. Bingo. Two more friends.
.
- Allie Shah is at ashah@startribune.com.