This is a “How the Leopard Got Its Spots” kind of story… although in our case, it’s “How an Injured and Abandoned Brass Instrument Gave Our Art Studio Its Name and Logo.”
Once upon a time, Nicki’s mom came upon a tuba at a tag sale. (If you’re new here, this is Nicki.) It was a forlorn and very banged-up instrument. Though its days of producing music were long gone, Nicki’s mom thought it was kind of cute… nearly the size of her Airedale (a.k.a. a Very Large And Endearing Dog) but unlikely to cause any trouble. She thought maybe the tuba could be converted into an interesting lamp.
As it turned out, Nicki’s dad was not so keen on the whole tuba-lamp idea, so Nicki’s mom set out to find a new home for the sad tuba. Shortly thereafter, the tuba came to live in our art studio, which at the time (early 2011) was new to us and not yet named.
The tuba immediately became the most interesting object in the studio. Neither of us was ever a band geek (though we have plenty of other geek titles between us), but we are quite fond of visually interesting objects and their quirky histories. And boy, is this tuba interesting to look at.
Our studio space was transformed by the presence of the tuba. It was inevitable that we would christen the space as Bent Tuba Studio.
It’s hard to know for sure, but the tuba appears to be enjoying its new role as the public face of our studio workshops.
We didn’t know the tuba had a name at first, but a recent quirk of technology delivered that message loud and clear. Nicki had taken photos of the tuba with her iPhone, and I sent my favorite ones to my email with the subject line “tuba” using the iPhone’s touchscreen buttons. When I looked at the email later, the subject line had appeared as “tina.” Thanks, iPhone autocorrect! Now we know how to address our tuba properly.
We hope you’ll come to the studio sometime to meet Tina the Tuba in person. She doesn’t say much, but she’s practically larger than life.