TIGHT LINES
MARLI AND ME
with Andrew Spencer
Friends and neighbors, I recently got picked to introduce The Nantucket Independent's very own arts editor, Marli Guzzetta, to the finer points of fishing in Nantucket. Apparently she's going to write an article about fishing, which is traditionally my turf, journalistically speaking. Given that turnabout is fair play and all, I figured it was my God-given right (being a Texan and all) to write about art (despite being a Texan and all).

So I'm fixin' to write about art, y'all.

When you really sit and think about it - which I did a lot - art is a multi-faceted thing. I realize that's a pretty deep statement, so let me elaborate a little and see if I can shed some clarifying light on that kernel of brilliance. What I mean is that art comes in a lot of different genres - painting, singing, acting, the list goes on. Case in point, I've been known to be a little theatrical - not to be confused with being "dramatic," which a few misguided souls out there have accused me of. This theatrical tendency on my part leads me to consider myself something of an artist. I'm thinking that this whole writing about art thing shouldn't be all that tough.

Who are those cats behind the Foster Grants?

Surprising as it might be, I'm not the only one here at The Nantucket Independent with the whole artistic thing going on. Our sports editor, Shep, who happens to be my favorite member of the editorial staff (and my being under his direction has nothing to do with that, mind you) is quite the musician. In fact, he's the brains if not the looks behind the bluegrass phenomenon known as the Shepcats, a band I was fortunate enough to see in person during the Fourth of July festivities on the island. And for those of you doubting the validity of this, just check out the photo. Yep. That's Shep in all his musical brilliance. See how easy this arts writing gig is?

So you've got me being theatrical yet not dramatic, and then you've got Shep being all musical and such. But where's that leave Marli? Truth be told, I have no idea where Marli's artistic inclinations lie. Color me ashamed. One thing I can say for sure, though, is that I know she's a superb writer. And I know one other talent Marli has.

The chick can flat-out catch fish.

And no, that's not the segue yet. I just wanted to make sure you all were paying attention.

As I said, I took Marli out fishing at the Chord of the Bay recently, as she'd never been fishing on Nantucket and she had been assigned to do a piece on it. We got out there, I gave her a quick how-to on casting and she did the rest. The first fish she pulled into the boat was big - very big, in fact. How big was it? Well, I can't tell you specifically. It was, oh, I don't know, I'd say about thirty inches long maybe. Could have been bigger. If only there were some way to record the exact length. Maybe even some artistic way.

Oh, wait. They've already invented it. It's called gyotaku.

And here we see a superb example of what is widely known as a Spencerian segue, a form made popular in the early twenty-first century by a fishing columnist of the highest caliber, Andrew Spencer.

Gyotaku (pronounced gee-yo-tah-koo) is an art form that originated in Japan over 1000 years ago. The word itself comes from two different Chinese characters: "gyo," which means "fish" and "taku," which means "stone monument rubbing." Fishermen were looking for a way to record the

exact size and species of the fish they had caught, and they came up with this method. They rolled ink onto the fish and then pressed the fish onto a piece of rice paper. The result was basically a print of the fish that served as one of the earliest forms of taxidermy.

There are a lot of examples of local gyotaku prints around the island. There's a great striped bass gyotaku at Slip 14 down on Old South Wharf, and there are a few other examples at both Cross Rip Outfitters and Bill Fisher Tackle. What strikes a lot of people when they see them is that the prints turn out to be beautiful pieces of art. Some artists incorporate colored inks in the gyotaku process, while others stick to the more traditional black ink-on-white rice paper. Either way, the end result is amazing, one-of-a-kind art that is truly unique.

Now that we've covered that, let's get back to Marli. We never got a chance to weigh her fish, but I figured it came in at about nine pounds, which is a pretty respectable weight for a person's first-ever bluefish. It's a pretty respectable weight for anybody's bluefish of any number, for that matter. She went on to catch a bunch more, which I chalk up to my incredible teaching techniques and fish-finding abilities. Too bad we didn't have any rice paper and India ink out there. No telling how many art galleries we could have supplied with prints. Oh, well. There's always next time.

And speaking of next time, now that I've given this whole arts writing thing a try, I'm thinking that I'll leave it to Marli in the future. It turns out it's really not all that easy writing this stuff.

Tight lines. I