Somehow, it's been a dozen years since Richmond magazine began its annual recognition of the region's makers and creators, and the public nomination aspect of this effort is now closed.
This week, a group of selectors, including some past recipients and other members of Richmond's arts community, will huddle and choose this year's honorees, using as a guide the suggestions offered from the public.
Intern Ryan Marr today reminded me of the origins of the Pollaks. In September 1994, I did an overview piece called "They Might Be Giants" that randomly chose artists, musicians and dancers to give that "up-and-coming" treatment. There wasn't any selection process; I made some phone calls to people who knew the scene and just picked a variety of people.
But in that story was a germ of an idea.
Shortly after Susan Winiecki took the editorial reins at Richmond magazine, I proposed the concept of an annual honors. My partner-in-art, Amie Oliver, suggested to me: "Why don't you call it the Pollaks?" Susan and I approached John Bryan (then with the VCU Arts Foundation), who was close with Theresa Pollak. He raised the idea with her, and, flattered, she gave her approval. And so, in 1998, the first event was held upstairs at the Anderson Gallery. I carried one end of the ice cooler with drinks, Susan had the other end. As I recall, I was on the higher side, but I could be wrong.
The '98 group was: Steve's House Dance Collective, which later disbanded but out of it came Ground Zero Dance Company and members of the production company at Live Arts in Charlottesville; bluesman Terry Garland; the Ululating Mummies, the core of which now make up the the Happy Lucky Combo; Mary Flinn, writer and editor of the New Virginia Review and, in collaboration with VCU, creator of the online journal Blackbird; artist Diego Sanchez, who continues his work today; and the 1708 Gallery, which was honored then as an arts innovator.
The theater category that year, and I must give all kinds of disclosure here, went to the Firehouse Theatre Project. A co-founder, I was then a board member; later that year, I became president, serving for eight years. I didn't ask for the honor, but the selectors chose. I've felt kind of odd about this ever since, but the Pollak plaque hangs just inside the door of our building.
To this day, I don't sit in the room when the selectors conduct their conversation. I just show them where the coffee is and give the restroom code numbers and await the results. Then I get to make some of my most favorite phone calls.
