Jessica Herman

You know you've made it as a professional when you top off your nine-to-five workdays at the local health club that hands out more plush white towels than you can carry. Membership costs a pretty penny, about ninety smackers per month, but hey, you've earned it.

Then what about the struggling artists, whose workdays often extend far past the traditional working hours but still make a pittance at the end of the day? The artists who rely solely on their artwork for a living often make barely enough to get by, let alone workout at a luxury gym. Exercising a kind of affirmative action, Lincoln Park Athletic Club (LPAC) offers an artist's discount, comparable to the student and teacher rate of about $65 per month, although that's subject to change.

"We have a lot of staff in the industry that are teachers or trainers and actors and actresses," says Helena Williams, LPAC director of membership, explaining the club's initial reason behind offering the artist's discount for at least seven years now.

Making up about 10 percent of the membership, the "artists" exchange sweat with full-paying members, who carry high-end backpacks and water bottles down the stretch of gray carpet at the club's entrance, past the juice and coffee bar. There's one arguable kink in the program that comes with the age-old question, what is art? Or in this case, what constitutes an artist? According to Williams, the qualifying artists only make money from their artwork, be it visual art, performance or, occasionally, writing. Artists who work for a company, say a newspaper or furniture shop, do not quality. Materials such as playbills and books provide the "artist's" necessary proof to receive the discount.

"I don't have a clear definition," Williams admits, struggling to articulate for her own sake who makes the cut. "We ask what you do for a living, and if it meets the internal criteria...." She concludes, "it is somebody pursuing performance arts, let's say that," but then remembers a discounted member who makes a living as a biographer.

Still, LPAC seems to be the only major gym in town giving artists a break. There are even minor rumblings that the club might consider an intern's discount. We're starving, too.

(2004-08-31)

Also by Jessica Herman

Unabashedly cheesy
"This guy, a little old man who wears a bow tie and carries his milk in a pail, makes four wheels of cheese each day...
(2004-08-25)

Bird watching
The former banker and self-described "event-planner" originally got into vintage erotica--calendars and posters from the forties and fifties that featured anyone from anonymous broads to stars like Rita Hayworth--when he was selling comics at trade shows
(2004-08-25)

Pretty in pink
"Mary Kay is not what your grandmother used to wear anymore," says Bernadette O'Shea. She introduces her new recruit, Lindsay Scherr, who's fresh out of Northwestern University...
(2004-08-17)

Shopping around
The "foreign classics" film buff opens the doors of his LEGO color-schemed video store, Odd Obsession as an event space and a place where people can learn about film
(2004-08-10)

Unstoppable
(2004-08-03)

Cupping runneth over
(2004-07-27)

Fancy fleas
(2004-07-13)

iSpin
(2004-07-13)

Sexy city
(2004-07-06)

Crayon politics
(2004-06-29)

House of house
(2004-06-16)

The Vintage Life
(2004-05-18)

about Newcitychicago | about Newcity magazine | advertising | privacy policy | FAQ | employment