Art-o-Mat

We have the only one in Henderson County! 

Our Art-O-Mat

Have you ever seen an Art-O-Mat?

It’s an old cigarette machine that dispenses art! How cool is that?

We’re proud to have the only one in Henderson County.

Stop by and take a look and grab yourself some unique art!

Learn more about the Art-O-Mat by reading the article below that was printed in the Winstom-Salem Journal.

Art-o-Matic

An article printed in the Winston-Salem Journal, written by Robert Lopez, Jan 1, 2016

Clark Whittington didn’t mean to create a national trend when he started rehabbing cigarette machines into art dispensers. But that’s exactly what he did.

Clark Whittington’s friend had a “Pavlovian reaction” to snack wrappers. Whenever he heard the crinkle of plastic, he would get up and walk to a vending machine.

Whittington was working on some conceptual art at the time and brainstormed how to create a piece based on that craving. He soon acquired an old cigarette machine, and in the process started an effort to leave no one artless.

Today, there are more 130 Art-o-mat machines in parts of the U.S. and Europe, including a dozen or so here in Winston-Salem. No tobacco is to be found in them these days. But for around the price of a pack of cigarettes, a tiny piece of art can be procured.

“Our goal is to make art accessible,” Whittington says. “There are plenty of places that sell art for a lot of money. But I enjoy being on the entry level, where we’re introducing art to people who may never have purchased art before.”

Art-o-mat creator Clark Whittington is reflected in one of his machines on display at Delurk Gallery. LAUREN CARROLL PHOTO.

Mid-century clean

Whittington, 49, works out of a studio near Peace Haven Road in Winston-Salem. All around are vending machines in various states of restoration. An old snack machine serves as a tool cabinet. Roaming through the space are his dogs, Jethro and Ellie Mae, the latter of which is especially friendly to visitors.

In his office, he keeps artifacts from the “Mad Men” period such as a Narda barber’s chair, a baby blue spherical Hoover, and a diamond-patterned Coca-Cola clock. Vintage suitcases sit in one corner alongside a bright orange stool. The whole place looks like it sprang forth from a roll of Kodachrome, and the machines themselves look like something from the era of big tailfins, tricked out in chrome, eye-popping colors, and space-age motifs.

“I’ve been into Mid-century design my whole life,” he says. “In the ’80s I collected a lot of the stuff you see here. I would not want Rock-ola; hokey Marilyn Monroe, Elvis stuff. But Mid-century clean, modern is timeless. It won’t ever go out of style.”

Whittington, who hails from Concord, grew up in a family of artists and musicians. His mother, he says, was a self-taught graphic designer, and as a child he would tinker with her supplies and tools.

Whittington and his wife moved to Winston-Salem in the late 1990s after she got a job at Baptist Medical Center. It was only a year or so after the move that he was inspired by his friend’s “Pavlovian reaction.”

Around the time of the reaction, tobacco restrictions were going into effect around the country, and Whittington discovered vending companies were scrambling to unload their cigarette machines. (Today, per federal guidelines, they are allowed only inside places where those younger than 18 are prohibited.)

“These were just machines that became available, and it worked out well,” he says. “In hindsight, if potato chips were being banned, I might be using snack vending machines.”

He installed the first machine at Penny Universitie Cafe in Winston-Salem in June 1997. It sold blocks of wood with his photographs on them for $1 each. The machine was to be there only temporarily, but cafe owner Cynthia Giles loved it so much she asked for it to stay and helped recruit more artists for the venture. The machines soon appeared at other local coffee shops and galleries. In 1999, NPR did a report on the Art-o-mat movement, which Whittington says helped momentum.

About 300 artists currently sell in the machines nationwide, Whittington says. Their works consist of blocks of wood that are roughly the dimensions of a pack of cigarettes. Three-dimensional artists package their works in cardboard boxes the same size.

“It can be pretty much anything as long as it meets those specifications,” Whittington says. “We’re pretty open as far as concept, so long as (materials) are safe, and it doesn’t get anyone in trouble.”

The works sell for $5 each. They can be purchased by putting in coins or a token bought from those hosting the machines.

Whittington, who’s looking to add more local artists in the near future, estimates Art-o-mats sell about 50,000 pieces of art a year. The proceeds are split between the artist, Art-o-mat, and those hosting the machines. He declined to discuss financial specifics, but he makes enough that he’s been able to work on the machines full time since 2003 and employ a studio manager.

The machines include works by a number of local artists. Printmaker John Gall, who lives in Guilford County, has been creating for Art-o-mat almost since the beginning. “It’s a good way for artists to get exposure,” he says. “I love the concept of recycling machines originally intended arguably for a very bad reason and turning them into something that could bring joy to someone.”

Kay Calzolari, who paints undersea motifs for Art-o-mat, works at the Winston-Salem Visitor Center on Brookstown Avenue, which has a machine of its own.

“We’ve actually used the Art-o-mat at some of our conventions,” she says. “People are always curious about them.”

The machines can now be found in places such as Seattle, San Francisco, Miami, Honolulu, even Australia. They’ve been at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York and the Smithsonian’s American Art Museum in D.C.

“People travel around and seek them out,” Whittington says. “We’ve had couples get engaged via Art-o-mat.

“This is something I just want to share with the world. The whole goal of Art-o-mat is to get art into people’s hands.”