It's a lively afternoon--I'm hearing a slightly aggro Bible enthusiast yell to Saturday strollers down State Street, occasionally inciting some fervid responses, and meanwhile a blues harmonica seems to be blaring from someone's parked car. Crowds keep forming around Harrod Blank's art car. It's parked out in front of Work Gallery along with some other installations special for the fest.
At 2:30 today Blank rolled up in this tree mobile, making a grand presentation to the crowd ready for his arrival at the Michigan Theater. The roots caught on the passenger door as it was opened, causing a little challenge to its functionality. Blank crawled out to cheering, and headed in to see Automorphosis, his documentary about art cars.
Automorphosis was way fun, dudes. On the most basic level, who cannot help but find joy in seeing cars shaped like a shark, a telephone, or a friggin' stiletto heel? Blank's characters revealed to us not just their kookiness or the intensity of their obsession, but all of the many reasons humans make and enjoy art. Some art cars were created out of a cathartic need to deal with emotional or physical challenges; others created for pure vanity and attention; and others made simply for fun. Art is also made to communicate a message of course, and one woman made art cars that addressed littering (crap all over it) and cigarette smoking (more aesthetically pleasing but disgusting car with neatly lined up cigarette butts arranged with pirate-style crossbones). One man spent 18 years meticulously crafting a VW with stained glass--he did it out of pure joy of working with tactile art. My favorite is a tie between the car covered with dancing plastic lobsters and Billy Big Mouth Basses singing along to the "Hallelujah Chorus" and the cheeseburger motorcycle, complete with a milkshake odometer. 
