Tag Archives: reportage

2021 Calendar

New Year's Time Square Animation
Animation by Veronica Lawlor

Happy New Year!

Studio 1482 would like to take this opportunity to thank every one of you that visited our site, liked our work, or just offered a note of support this year. It made a very difficult situation a little bit easier knowing you were there.

Because we couldn’t physically mail our annual calendars to you this year we have made them available as a FREE pdf download. We hope that our art brings you joy in the year to come.

DOWNLOAD THE CALENDAR HERE

If you prefer a print edition you can purchase it at cost here

 

Wishing you all the best in 2021!

ARMCHAIR TRAVELS – TIMES SQUARE, NYC

Welcome to Armchair Travels, an invitation to travel around the world through the reportage illustration of Studio 1482.We have gathered art from our travels to share with you in the hopes that, while you can’t get out and see these places (yet), our experiences may bring some happiness and light to your day. Please check back often as we will be posting new adventures weekly.

Enjoy Times Square, NYC by Greg Betza…

Times Square, that section of midtown New York City that has been referred to as the “Crossroads of the World”amongst other things (both favorable and not so much). It is a place that many native New Yorkers avoid at all costs and yet it is a not-to-be-missed destination for all tourists.

As a New Jersey native that spent a great deal of time in New York City, I have a certain fondness for Times Square, though I completely understand why you’d want to avoid it as well. What a contradiction!

Get me outta here!

Speaking of contradiction, could there be a place more antithetical to our current “new normal”? To think of the thousands of people that would traverse the area each day; have it reduced to a near ghost town in a matter of weeks. Chalk that up to things I’d never thought I’d see.

It was the masses of people that first brought me to Times Square to draw. It was a challenge. So many people, so much movement, even more personality. The architecture, the advertising, the lights! To learn to capture and tell that story was a lesson so important in my development as a reportage artist and illustrator. Here are a few early attempts.

Trips to draw here gave me the full sensory experience. Ears assaulted by honking horns, indiscernible shouts, tourists asking for directions…, music, discernible expletives, and of course, the pigeons!
The smells. Oh boy. From hot garbage in the summer, to the constantly wafting smell of something frying from the endless row of chain restaurants.
And watch your step, the garbage cans often overflow!
Now while this may sound horrible, it is what makes Times Square unique and as an artist you need to take it all in…the good and the bad, to tell the truth with your reportage. And despite all of this (and there is more) people flock here anyway and stay awhile. As did I, many, many times.

On a more positive note, looking up and around when you are here is inspiring. On the surface it can appear a soulless theme park devoted to consumerism, but if you can get past that tired and overused criticism, Times Square is home to so many visions realized. As a student of advertising I love to see the campaigns compete with each other publicly. How each brand approaches this space and how they utilize technology to bring their message to the masses is truly impressive. It’s a constantly evolving gallery.

One of the last times I spent a long day drawing in Times Square was back in 2010 when Mayor Bloomberg closed several sections to traffic, allowing the area to become more pedestrian friendly. I remember it was a very peaceful day, the people seemed to enjoy the space more than they had in the past and I believe I noticed more native New Yorkers hanging around that day too :)

NOT JUST ANY OTHER DAY

When I got back on the DC Metro Friday afternoon I had already decided I would not post anything on Instagram. A single image and a few hashtags doesn’t quite do the subject justice. By the time I was eating lunch a few hours later (first time at Busboys and Poets in Hyattsville, MD—thank you—perfect post-Trump atmosphere) I made up my mind that I was not going to share the reportage at all. As much as I may feel about the election, to be quite honest, the unending commentary that surrounds every sentence delivered online drives me nuts. A few drawings, uneventful as I felt they were, didn’t warrant any kind of negative attention. Then I saw our new Presidents’ tweet about the day.

Let me first say this, as I left the mall after the 2013 inauguration for President Barack Obama I vowed to myself that I would return every four years. I had documented his first—and then his second—and upon doing so I realized how much I did not know about our political history, at least not some of the details that warrant a closer look. It is something we take for granted. Something we assume will always be there. The inauguration every fours years is historic. Yesterday was no different.

For the first time I attended the ceremony with some companions. A right-leaning dear old friend who came to shoot the crowd (yes, I said shoot, with his camera) and two of his Trump supporting friends. The two friends were scared of something horrible happening during the day (I left that to their imaginations, I didn’t ask) and were hesitant about joining in the crowd on the mall. They were coming from the opposite side of DC so we were meeting up before going in. We took the Metro from just outside DC. There was absolutely no line at the station to get onto the platform where I had to wait in line simply to park in 2009. Granted that was certainly the bigger of the two previous crowds, but none the less, I was a few hours later than the first time, and this morning there were so few people on the platform and more importantly the parking lot was still empty at 8:30 AM. We jumped on with a family of Trump supporters young and old and I grabbed a few drawings (above).

For the third time I got off at the L’Enfant station on the south side of the mall. I have yet to get my bearings right on the DC Metro but I ended up coming out at the same spot as in 2013. However it was not the same scene. For the rest of the event I found very little similar to either of the last two I attended. I walked out onto what felt like a war zone. There were no protestors that could be seen, nothing was wrong so to say, but it felt ominous. It may have been the gloomy weather, but something was way off. The previous times I attended it looked nothing like what I was witnessing. The streets were lined with what felt like cages and crowds were lining up to funnel alongside of them. Again, nothing was wrong, just the feeling of something that could happen. There was no where to stop and draw, so we moved on.

Not knowing what size crowd would be attending we did not delay in getting to the entrance. However, we kept getting delayed. The single file line was constantly filtered through tiny openings in the barricades and then twisted along detours that took us farther away from where we wanted to go. I have no recollection of it having been so hard to get on the mall as this. When we finally arrived at the security entrance I was shocked to see the line that nearly reached 14th street (I quickly learned some landmarks). Taking our spot we agreed that this may not be happening as the line was too long and security seemed to be moving too slow. I think it was 9:30 at the time. Maybe I missed the build up after I arrived in 2013, but this line felt rather bottle necked. That was when I took out the pad.

Aside from a few obvious protestors there were no big demonstrations as we were trying to get in. Protestors were told they wouldn’t be allowed. We watched a few try en route that were stopped. A ton of Trump hats and scarves, some flags and various accessories. The vendors, all of whom were probably there the last two times for President Obama, did not seem to be selling too many shirts. My friend made a comment about Trumps’ face being on everything and I told him that it wasn’t so different from my memory—the material being sold was attempting pride but just as tacky the past two times. All souvenirs.

As we made our way to the security checkpoint quicker than I thought we would (I thought we would miss some of it) we met up with our other two companions. They bypassed the line and hopped on with us. Seeming so afraid of something happening I was not sure they would ever fully enjoy their time, and they were the ones there to celebrate. Having had the experience to compare I was asked if there was as much red, white, and blue at the last two as there was being worn on line. Trolling for an unpatriotic answer I had to concede I didn’t think so.

By this point everyone was looking to me to know how big the crowd was in comparison. Up to that point there was nothing the same that gave me a good idea one way or the other. It seemed tiny on the Metro platform and in the station, but waiting on line after line it seemed huge. As we made our way onto the mall I finally had the only real comparison that made sense. It took a while to figure out but this crowd was much smaller than 2013. There may never again be a similar moment as 2009, but make no mistake, 2017 was smaller compared to the last two. People kind of spread out and made sections seem full, but there was so much standing and sitting room. I had been on the mall the last time by about 7AM or so, but even by that time it was more crowded than Friday. And it never filled in behind me to the extent that it had 4 years ago. This crowd was thin.

By now I had ditched my companions and I was waiting in the not-so-thick of it with foreign Trump supporters. As we waited there were a few chants of USA! USA! USA! but nothing that lasted too long yet. I figured the dreary clouds suppressed everyones spirits but expected some celebration as the time ticked on. One woman turned around and caught my attention as she was starting to open up and get excited.

On the jumbo trons along the edge of the mall we watched as people filled the steps of the capital building. I felt like I heard cheers as Vice-President Biden came on screen but then I realized Vice-President Elect Pence was with him and I remembered why I was there. Hillary got boo’s from the crowd. I wasn’t too surprised. What surprised me the most however was that when Bernie Sanders appeared on screen he got pretty big cheers. The woman from above boo-ed the crowd and started yelling “COMMUNIST,” I mean “SOCIALIST” and swapping back and forth until she finally realized people were looking at her because she obviously had no idea what she was saying, just simply repeating what had been told to her.

It was also at the sight of Bernie that I realized the cheers I thought were for Biden actually were. There was a good sized group of young women, possibly college though I think high school, who were there it seemed for the civics lesson of it all, but were certainly Obama fans as they cheered for Bernie and Michele Obama over the woman’s boo’s and then chanted please don’t go when President Obama was on screen solo, who also got boo’s from one man in front of me angry about the President taking away his health insurance. A quick and subtle harassment from the “communist” woman’s companion quieted the young women down, but you could tell the audience was more mixed up than I had realized.

The crowd was a bit somber as Donald Trump took the oath. No gasps, no cheers, just listening and watching. They cheered and clapped a bit at the end, but nothing grand and celebratory. Reality was setting in.

The reverend who ended the service about 20 minutes or so later tried to wax poetic about the Biblical symbolism of the rain that just so happened to start precisely when President Trump finished the oath and began his speech. Since I was told on the day of my baptism it rained and my pastor said it was good fortune, I will give a pass, but I couldn’t help see the irony in the grey clouds opening up at that exact moment (and thinking about my mother who sounded as if she had daggers in her eyes for my pastor). In my mind I saw the entire scene get drenched as the first officer descended the steps behind Trump to place an umbrella at his feet and then several officers gathered, I assume to help with the immediate crowd behind the podium. It never poured, but it took dreary to a slightly darker place for a few minutes. The more dramatic drawing in my mind also vanished.

As President Trump rattled through his speech one eccentric woman from Detroit cheered as he mentioned the name on the bag over her shoulder, with a few looks from those around her, taking pride in her hometown. And then after a few prayers it was all over as people streamed out.

Now, as for the reason I decided to post this. When I found out Trumps’ White House tweeted a photo from the 2013 inauguration I realized there was more to my drawings than I had left the mall feeling about them. I did not attend looking for something to attack and quite honestly I initially decided not to post them at all because I felt there was little to really speak of. This started 8 years ago as a celebration and by the next time it had become a personal exploration, part observer, part participator.  Any small observations that I made were just going to incite comments that I didn’t want to go through and approve or delete. Then the sunny-sky’s-over-the-Capital-Building-with-flags-waving photo appeared on his Twitter feed and I thought how skewed the whole day was. The earlier question about the patriotic red, white, and blue display on everyones dress, well no in 2013 I didn’t see that. I also couldn’t see the Capital because every five minutes or so there were thousands of flags waving above the crowd. The very same flags in yesterdays twitter photo. Pride—American pride—was on full display 4 years ago. Yesterday I barely saw any flags at all. A handful maybe. One large one for sure. Four years ago the crowd was big—in spirit, in numbers, in unity. Friday it was somber and bland. As I met up with my companions I found they were equally unimpressed by the event. The couple we met up with were disappointed that there were no protesters inside, which is when I realized what they were looking for, and expecting, a rally. There shouldn’t be any protestors allowed in, this is an American ritual that should be respected. If we all don’t why will it continue when we want it to? When we next need it to? I am sure many tried to get in, but thankfully they failed. That is what the March on Washington was for today. Hell, that is what the parade to the White House is for. I wish I had gone to both, but I never thought the parade would be so sparse and I know I am represented in great numbers by various friends today.

The fact is he won. Donald Trump is OUR PRESIDENT whether we love him, hate him, or could care less. What I found absurd is that the whole thing was uneventful. There was no pride, unity, or desire demonstrated by much of the crowd, and for all the people who actually showed up for the event, very few felt like they held anything in  common with those around them. So while I quietly long for the next inauguration I hope we get some change. I hope both parties realize this election was reality tv at its worst and maybe take some action to alter it, but I doubt it. Until then the burden falls on us as it always has and will to not believe the tweets and see past the lies with some sense of truth, and realize that sometimes it rains when you don’t want it to. Doesn’t mean we have to get soaked.

Live the InterContinental Life Animations

For the past few months I’ve been teasing this project on my Instagram and I’m so pleased to finally share it. I was commissioned by Smith Creative Labs to illustrate 3 short animations for the InterContinental Hotel Group’s Live the InterContinental Life campaign.

The animations were based on podcast interviews which told stories of empathy, worldliness and fascination and were recorded in London, Beijing, and New York City. Smith and animator Mark Bellncula were incredible partners to work with, granting me a tremendous amount of creative freedom and support. I couldn’t be any happier with how the animations turned out.

I loved that these pieces were created in a mostly traditional way, using sequential hand made drawings and paintings. Some of the longer panoramic drawings were so long that I had to work on my floor…and my floor became my desk! Whatever works.

I did my best to document the process of creating the animation art which I’ve included below. I appreciate you taking the time to look!

Pose 1

greg-betza_ihg-2

Large scale thumbnail drawing
Large scale thumbnail drawing
My floor/desk
My floor/desk

greg-betza_ihg-7 greg-betza_ihg-5

Many hours hunched over the light box!
Many hours hunched over the light box!

greg-betza_ihg-8 greg-betza_ihg-9greg-betza_ihg-11greg-betza_ihg-10

chop chop chop
chop chop chop
Mole
Mole
Panoramic drawing of the kitchen
Panoramic drawing of the kitchen
My wife and I enjoying a drink
My wife and I enjoying a drink
self-portrait
self-portrait

greg-betza_ihg-12

 

Corpse Flower NYC 2016

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The other day my son and I went to see, draw and SMELL the famous and rare Corpse Flower at the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx. It was a great adventure waiting on long lines in the 90 degree weather, and squirming through crowds in the humid tropics of the conservatory. I kept calling it an adventure to keep my son from running for the hills. Haha. But once he started reading about it and after finally seeing it, he was impressed.

We hung around the perimeter of the room drawing for about two hours and made a few friends from various media outlets. Click the photo of us below for a link to the BuzzFeed article we were featured in! We got a kick out of that. The NY Post interviewed us extensively but I don’t think we were used for their piece about the exotic flower.

buzzfeedarticle
P-U! Striking a pose for BuzzFeed

It was hard to settle down and concentrate with an energetic boy in the middle of huge crowds but I’m glad I got to get in some quick drawings of the crowds and the tallest flower I’ve ever seen.

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Just standing around gawking at a huge stinking flower!
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Constant crowds with smartphone cameras snapping away

So, the flower is beautiful. But it smells ugly. And it’s scientific name, Amorphophallus titanum, means large misshapen phallus. I kept thinking they should’ve surrounded it with some orchids (meaning:testicles). So, on the lower left, I drew some little balls to go with the large penis. Hey, everyone there was cracking jokes, too! Anyway, besides being X-rated, the drawing is loaded with marks and dirty, “ugly” colors to illustrate it’s most famous feature. Because, in the end, it’s not the size or the rareness or the phallic shape or the 10-80 year bloom cycle that draws the crowds. It’s the stench. All those droves of people basically felt compelled to act when somebody said “Oh God this smells awful! Smell it.”

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Here’s another

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The Art of Politics

DS_20160509_bigboy

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I took a class titled Connections during my last semester in high school. The elective was led by two of my favorite teachers. One taught Art and the other English, both focusing on “liberal” studies  where the two subjects crossed pathes. Needless to say the topics for discussion had a wide pool from which to choose. The class, or at least my perception of it at the time, was to broaden our understanding of all that we had been taught during our formative years in school. The world was a bigger place than our little lives, there was more to our education than we had come to know at that moment, and everything didn’t fit into nice little packages that lasted 45 mintues between bells. Art and math were more related than we had previously been shown and literature had changed the course of history more often than our Global Studies books let on—the world was a much bigger place than any of us realized.

Pretty basic stuff except for the fact that, not unlike now, we confine ourselves to a small box and forgot just how connected we are on any given day, even if we have likes all around the globe. Fast forward two decades and I am standing in a museum reading railroad history and thinking about time. Instead of causing an onslaught of nostalgia, my trip out to Scranton last week had me looking to a future time, but in ways I would not immediately think related to the Steamtown National Historic Site. As one more week in 2016 unfolds, with the temperature of the climate bound to rise, I wondered what my thoughts on unifying time zones would be? What side of the debate would I be on and what repercussions would I cling to or disregard. Would I would perceive the steam train as a path to a bright future or a sinful end to our society? What would I think of all those critical moments 150 years ago or more, that we have long forgotten and adapted to? Which of course leads me to consider how limited our thinking right now is? What ideas are we not seeing that could save the greater good tomorrow? Are we simply holding onto yesterday out of fear for a few more moments of comfort today that will inevitably turn into memories?

A short trip to a lonely historic site highlighted just how divisive our frame of minds can be. We do all that we can to keep it from happening, but change is forever the next more successful thing. The issue is what we measure our success to. Is it holding onto ideas of yesterday or avoiding the painful pill that we have to swallow with the removal of the old making room for the new?

DS_20160509_ScrantonTime

Trains, Trains, and More Trains!

DS_20160502_scranton

I’ve had a fascination with locomotives, railroads, and trains in general since I was a young boy. An old photo of my father and I sitting in the middle of a circle of Lionel track—train poised for departure—after setting up a new set when I was about 3 years old was only the beginning. I would later learn the term layaway when I paid $10 a month for a vintage operating news stand to go along my tracks. It cost $110—I was 10 or 11 years old. Big money—months of agony waiting. My early electrical skills were formed from wiring buildings and fixing old pieces.

Hands on knowledge is always a great learning tool. This past weekend I got a thrill out of being at the Steamtown National Historic Site in Scranton, PA with everyone from Dalvero as we reportaged the working train yard and roundhouse. Years of stored up fantasies and childhood dreams came to life as I stood before—in many cases touching—giant locomotives from the past. I’ve always believed that our interests and desires as adults stem from both the epic events of childhood to the most passing of moments. Good or bad—one never knows what will effect another’s mind and soul. I have such vivid memories that if quantified would seem to have lasted weeks if not years but in fact were only an instance in my life. As I write—on the heels of a short trip to Pennsylvania—I am swimming in a flood of thoughts realizing that what makes a place like the Steamtown site so important is that if it instigated a sea of memories for me in just two days, imagine what it would do for someone twice my age. Or even better, just think about what first time memories would be implanted for someone half or a quarter my age. There is a world out there ready to be experienced. Time to have some fun.

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns | Greg Betza

Downtowns for NJ Monthly

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns | Greg Betza

I was commissioned this summer to work on a reportage assignment for NJ Monthly magazine. Being born and raised in New Jersey it was just that much better to be asked to drive around the state to visit and draw different “landmarks” throughout to help make the case for the best downtowns in New Jersey. I had a great time. Here are the drawings which appeared in the magazine (out now!) and the additional ‘rejected’ pieces that I made as well.

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns Cape May | Greg Betza

Cape May, NJ

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns Montclair | Greg Betza

Church Street, Montclair, NJ

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns Princeton | Greg Betza

Palmer Square, Princeton, NJ

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns Summit Diner | Greg Betza

Summit Diner, Summit, NJ

New Jersey Monthly Downtowns Red Bank | Greg Betza

Waterfront, Red Bank, NJ


These below were unpublished:

Downtown Red Bank, New Jersey | Greg Betza

Downtown Red Bank, NJ

Cape May, New Jersey | Greg Betza

Cape May, NJ

Raymond’s, Montclair, New Jersey | Greg Betza

Raymond’s, Montclair, NJ

Summit Train Station New Jersey | Greg Betza

Summit Train Station, Summit, NJ

Palmer Square Princeton New Jersey | Greg Betza

Palmer Square, Princeton, NJ

Porta Jersey City New Jersey | Greg Betza

Porta, Jersey City, NJ

In Dylan Town Cover | Greg Betza

Bob Dylan Cover

In Dylan Town Cover | Greg Betza

Last year I attended a Bob Dylan concert at the Beacon Theatre in New York. I made a few drawings, and David Gaines, the author of a new book on Bob Dylan, saw one of the drawings which I had posted on One Drawing A Day and asked if he could use it for the cover!

As a fan and admirer of Dylan, I could not be happier that I made those drawings. Here is the book, a display at BookPeople in Austin, TX and a few more drawings from that dark evening in New York. Thank you David and Iowa University Press.

In Dylan Town Cover | Greg Betza

In Dylan Town Cover | Greg Betza

Bob Dylan | Greg Betza

Bob Dylan | Greg Betza

Bob Dylan | Greg Betza

Bob Dylan | Greg Betza

Bob Dylan | Greg Betza

Art in Space | Greg Betza

Art in Space

Art in Space | Greg Betza

I’m excited to share this latest bit of good news with you. I was contacted earlier this year by a company designing a new Chicago office space for a global consulting firm. The company had seen my reportage drawings of Chicago and thought they would make a great addition to the space. I’m truly satisfied when I do work that I love and enjoy doing and someone finds a use for it. Here are a few photos from the new space. You can see the rest of my reportage here.

Art in Space | Greg Betza

Art in Space | Greg Betza

Art in Space | Greg Betza

Chicago Magazine Moving on Up | Greg Betza

Chicago Magazine

Had a chance to do some intricate line drawing for this illustration! It was interesting, and almost therapeutic, drawing all of these buildings and windows and streets and antenna and, and, and… And then I got to loosen up and work on a few lifestyle spots of  things happening in front of the architecture. Great layout by the AD too.

Chicago Magazine Moving on Up | Greg Betza

greg-betza_Chicago-spot1

Chicago Magazine Moving on Up | Greg Betza

Chicago Magazine Moving on Up | Greg Betza

Chicago Magazine Moving on Up | Greg Betza

Guy Fieri Grillin’ For Greatness | Greg Betza

Guy Fieri Grillin’ For Greatness

I’ve always been a fan of Guy Fieri, so I was thrilled to get a call to do some illustrations for his Miller Lite Grillin’ For Greatness campaign. Again, I was asked to draw a stadium! First, NBC Sports calls for the Stadium Series and soon after, Guy. The theme behind the stadium imagery is that his recipes (and Miller Lite) can be used during your tailgating parties this football season. Overall a fun project to work on. Here are the illustrations and the final print ads. #grillwithguy

Guy Fieri Grillin’ For Greatness | Greg Betza Guy Fieri Grillin’ For Greatness | Greg Betza Guy Fieri Grillin’ For Greatness | Greg Betza Guy Fieri Grillin’ For Greatness | Greg Betza

Sketching The Line | Greg Betza

Sketching The Line

I’m honored to be included in the Canadian ART IN TRANSIT show “Sketching The Line”, an exhibition of reportage drawings made while of commuters and subway-goers.
Back in 2007-8 I took advantage of my time on NYC subways by drawing anyone I could. For practice, yes, and because I just love to do it. I find that the older I get, my career and the opportunities presented to me all seem to fall in line with my interests. A lot can be said about continuing to “do what you love”. Do the work that you want to do and that work will continue to find you. If you’d like to see more of my drawings from the commute, click here

Thank you to Sharon for organizing the exhibition.

More about the show from their website:

“An international exhibition of 78 sketches drawn by 13 artists from around the globe, features brief impressions of fellow commuters that document place, time and movement while simultaneously revealing a myriad of personal moments.”

Sketching The Line | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

As many of you know, I designed and illustrated the animated commercial for the 2014 NHL Stadium Series. Yesterday I was fortunate enough to witness the action first-hand. I thought it would be great to draw from the actual event…so I did. I have to say it wasn’t the easiest event to capture, with temperatures in the low 20s to high teens, my hands didn’t always do what I had ‘instructed’ them to do (I think they were partially frozen). But all in all I’m happy with the small reportage that came out of the day. There were more than 50,000 fans in attendance and with the absurd amount of clothes they were wearing, it was packed tight in that stadium. And I’m happy to report, the cold did not temper the ‘creative’ language common to most hockey fans. And with the added tension of the NJ Devils hosting the NY Rangers, in New York, the love affair between the two states was on display, constantly!

It was a GREAT event, and thank you to Let’s Talk Tickets for getting me great seats.

There is another game Wednesday evening at Yankee Stadium and for those of you in the mid-west, the final game of the Stadium Series will take place in Chicago on March 1. I highly recommend it.

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza Stadium Series at Yankee Stadium | Greg Betza

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mast Stepping

The other day in Mystic Seaport, there was a ceremony to mark the “stepping” of the foremast of the Morgan. That’s when the mast of a ship is erected onto the ship. The Morgan of course is the last wooden whaling ship in the US, and it has been through a massive restoration and will soon be on it’s 38th voyage.

I was so pleased and honored to be at the event, along with friends from Dalvero Academy. And even more pleased to don a hardhat and draw the action from the front line. The hard hats did give a the scene a sort of battle feel, especially when the crew worked and shouted out commands and codes and jokes.

I had a ball. I started drawing from land and followed the mast onto the ship where I continued the reportage from the deck. Next time I hope to do the opposite- start on the boat- so that I can get a glimpse of the coin being place at the bottom of the mast for luck. The second mast will be stepped in November. I can’t wait to go back.

First, here is a drawing I made of the overall scene. There is the Morgan in the background, waiting for her foremast. The crane, that was towering over me at one point, and I have to say, it made me nervous. And of course the massive mast in the foreground with the crew.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

The crew had not much to do as they waited for the green light to begin the work. They were itching to get started and were in good spirits.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Next, the go ahead was given and the ropes were the first to get attention. In fact, most of the action revolved around the ropes.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

With the ropes secured onto the mast, it was time for the crane to lower the hook to be secured to the ropes.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

They took a while making sure that the hook was perfectly secured. I don’t blame them! And overseeing the whole process was Quentin Snediker, the white bearded director of the restoration of the Morgan.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

As the mast began it’s slow rise into the sky, onlookers were a mix of joy and nerves. It was exciting.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

The crane let go which meant that the crew on the ship had the mast in their hands. It was time for me to leave my post and hit the deck.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

The first thing I noticed was the hugging. I thought it was cute how the only way to steady the mast was to hug it.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Through this portal, I saw some of the crew below as they watched.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

And from this view I could only see hands gently guiding the mast into position. I was told the bottom fits like a key into the keel. Another reason to draw from down there next time!

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

This is Alex, and he seemed to have an integral role in the process.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Next, a head popped up from below deck to announce that the mast was in place.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

The bell on deck was rung and the next phase was swiftly underway.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

The ropes from the top of the mast were then attached to the sides of the boat. Every rope has a name on a boat, hence the term “learning the ropes”. Because it takes a while to learn the name of what looks like a thousand ropes!

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

And the work was winding down the same way it began, with a lot of rope work.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

I was pleased to see a woman on deck. It was once considered the worst of luck to have a female aboard.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Below is who I thought to be the director of the crew. The captain? Not sure, but this guy did most of the shouting of the commands and the pointing, so I’m pretty sure he was in charge.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

At last, the mast was in it’s place and the sun made a brief appearance in approval.

Mystic Foremast Stepping | Despina Georgiadis

You can click on this link to see more about that day.