Laguna Tour Shows Visitors the Work of Arts

Trudging over sodden grass, they marveled at the setting: brilliant flowers and hand-tiled walkways leading to bungalows that hid intricate, original treasures.

Laura Mercer hurried them inside her one-room cottage overflowing with sparkling, plastic jewelry. Andy Wing whirled them through his bright, airy home-studio, showing off collages featuring household items. Then they went farther into the canyon, to Bob Bonn’s immaculate work space, where colorful Southwestern images brighten white walls.

“Everyone knows that in Laguna, there’s an artists community, but I don’t know how many translate that into a real little village where you walk down grass pathways between the houses and the studios,” said Kevin Dorse, a Glendale attorney who was one of about 40 participants in Laguna’s third annual Artwalk on Saturday.

“This, to me, is an amazing discovery. This is the difference between being an outsider and being an insider,” Dorse said of the daylong tour. “Even if you go to (a gallery) opening and the artist is there, it’s a pretentious setting; it’s all business. Here, the artists are so inviting. It’s more real.”

Intended to give collectors, tourists and nearby residents a chance to see artists in action and talk with them about their work, the Laguna Artwalk is modeled after a similar event started in Venice 15 years ago.

Unlike the Venice Artwalk, which raises money for a local health clinic, the Laguna Beach version is simply a cultural event that promotes local art and artists. Each participant pays $60 to peek into the life and work of seven different artists--including glassblowers, silk-painters, leather-cutters, mask makers, painters, sculptors and potters--and enjoy a gourmet Chinese lunch.

Those on Dorse’s tour enjoyed frank talk with such artists as Mercer, who welcomed the guests out of the rain saying, “I think you’re all very, very brave,” then rewarded them with complimentary pieces of jewelry.

Mercer, 41, took up ceramics as a bored psychology major when she became mesmerized by the process of throwing pots. After a stint as a commodities broker, she took her $68 in savings and started making jewelry.

Since then she has been featured in Nordstrom’s Christmas catalogue and has opened her own shop.

“You can go work at the 7-Eleven and scrape together $68 and start a business that eventually will become very successful. Mine did,” Mercer giggled as she showed the crowd how she makes her funky plastic pieces.

Next door to Mercer, Wing’s house also overflows with art, most of it his. The bathroom is a full-fledged gallery, with an intricately tiled tub and a eucalyptus branch to hold the shower curtain.

The dining-room table started as a slice of a redwood tree but now has chunks of mirrors and enamel embedded in its surface. Just inside the front door hangs a decorated steering wheel; nearby, a rusty pair of scissors is the centerpiece of a collage.

Wing is a true believer in recycling. Among his latest works: a three-dimensional painting made from the plastic bands that come with each morning’s newspaper.

“There’s no such thing as an accident in my realm,” said Wing, a tall, eccentric man with white hair and a beard. “It looks like all my work is accidental, but all accidents are choices sort of made in an accidental way.”