Source: Maui Time, Maui News, Best of Maui, Maui Activities

Holoholo%20Girl
The Talk of the Town
DEPT. OF ART PARTIES

December 08, 2005





Last Friday marked possibly the first time old Paia Train Station

had seen so much aesthetically pleasing action since 1948. The cause

for such a grandiose celebration was the surprise opening of “Masters

of Art”—an art gallery and complex featuring the hugely popular sports

artist Ray Masters in the largest building. Masters did all the

building’s reconstructive work himself, painting the walls and

displaying his magnificently lit, vibrant and lively acrylic art

alongside Tom Faught’s funky metal sculptures and Piero Resta’s sensual

wood carvings. In separate but adjacent cottages, Rik Fitch showcased

his oil paintings, colorful hand-woven cloths and stone jewelry at Chai

Yo! and the Von Heldenberg gallery displayed a horseshoe-shaped glass

case of fine jewelry.

About 100 young, posh and impossibly beautiful people mingled—the

trust fund elite and international surf crowd of Maui’s North Shore.

Handsome, tan, athletic men in snug T-shirts and baggy jeans chatted

with gorgeous girls in glamorous regalia: cocktail dresses, full-length

sparkling or silky gowns, skin exposed in glorious display of golden

perfection. The most appropriate hair—for both male and female

alike—was sun-streaked, layered and perfectly mussed.

In a smaller cluster of friends, a well-known Italian artist spoke

of his recent six-week trip to Europe. A world music deejay concurred

with his tales of endless meals cooked with fresh herbs from the garden

of the villa where he was staying. An attractive blonde laughingly told

of leaking olive oil bottles stashed in her airplane’s overhead

compartment. Promises were made amongst the group to share recently

acquired Grappa at night’s end. The artist continued talk of an

intimate party he’s planning at his estate, replete with pasta dinner,

dancing and 150 of his closest friends.

A stunning photographer with an unrecognizable accent and short,

spiky hair talked of the merits of having a hangover as opposed to not

and wondered aloud what sort of concoction she was drinking; brushing

off any potential responses, she cheered her table of acquaintances.

Someone quoted W.C. Fields: “Say anything that you like about me except

that I drink water.” Meanwhile, inside the Masters gallery, excitement

erupted as—supposedly—a gaggle of gowned girls took to giddily exposing

their glamorously covered tatas. Almost immediately, camera flashes

exploded like the reflected lights off a disco ball.

A local entrepreneur floated easily from group to group, talking of

island-wide redevelopment and Burning Man philosophies. Masters began

ushering folks to the front of the newly painted old Paia Train Depot

for a Hawaiian blessing. Videographers and photographers crowded the

priestess in chant and Masters looked on with teary-eyed glee. At the

end of the ceremony, a young girl shouted appreciation and thanks to

Masters, to which the crowd reacted with deafening applause. Masters

waved them down to near silence and gave a small speech.

“This is not my house,” he said. “It’s our house.”



Outside the gallery in the back area, word soon spread of carrying

the party on to Jacques, where Masters would also be deejaying. People

scurried, rides were confirmed and the last of the crowd made scattered

conversation with lingerers. A trio of young, pretty blondes—English

schoolteachers and a counselor—made light conversation with a local

nightlife columnist.

A smallish black dog—bedecked in red nylon collar and silver

tag—made its way through the crowd, wagging its tail excitedly and

possibly searching for its owner. Or perhaps the last bit of brie on

cracker.





Samantha Campos hopes to finish

her latest artwork, a charcoal and 10W40 oil on brushed copper painting

entitled, “Lightness as an Inexplicit Encroachment upon My Behavior” by

next May, in time for her mother’s 20th wedding anniversary. MTW