Gallery hopping in Manhattan is a treat on most any Saturday, but The New Yorker's annual Passport to the Arts event adds a scavenger hunt twist, challenging participants to fill the creamy cardstock of their specially issued booklets with stamped versions of artworks (like the one at right, by Asuka Ohsawa) from each of the 28 participating galleries. While we were busy over at Sotheby's enumerating the ways that a Cecily Brown canvas is a (much) wiser investment than a new boat, we dispatched UnBeige designer correspondent Prescott Perez-Fox to take a walk on the fine art side. Here's his Passport report.

Last Saturday, I stepped out for the fifth annual Passport to the Arts, an open-house tour of galleries in SoHo and Chelsea. The day-long event and evening reception was sponsored chiefly by The New Yorker promotion department. Proceeds from ticket sales and the silent auction benefitted Friends of the High Line, the "non-profit conservancy that provides over 70 percent of the High Line's annual operating budget," so the endeavor offered an element of community outreach, and not simply another chance for the art community to do its thing.

It seems to be an appropriate symbiosis: the art community, now based in the post-industrial area of West Chelsea, benefits from new foot traffic brought by the High Line, while the High Line, of course, needs money to continue renovations and maintain the park for public use. With the chance to pick up some art at auction prices, patrons also may find this a winning scenario.

But by my observation, this team-up hasn't hit the mainstream just yet. While the High Line has won the hearts of New Yorkers of all sorts, Passport to the Arts drew the expected crowd. At galleries, and at the reception, I saw plenty of modelesque ladies dressed in black, silver-haired gentlemen in tweed jackets, and couples seeking to capitalize on the fair weather with an afternoon of high culture. However, New York at large wasn't exactly represented—I suspect the $45 ticket price would keep many casual art fans at home.

I hope that next year the event will generate more public awareness. As an avid reader of blogs and tangentially aware of the art world, I had been unaware of the event until this year. The timing also seemed odd. While we have been gifted a relatively painless November thus far, it would seem more appropriate to hold the event in the spring, when folks are itching to explore the High Line after a long winter indoors.

Artfully displayed Nespresso products up for auction.

I felt slightly out of my element during the event. As a scrappy graphic designer, I've never entirely understood "real" art, and from the moment I stepped in the Passport to the Arts headquarters, based in the swanky Nespresso store on Prince Street, I knew I was in for an evening of subtle eye-rolling, if not outright head-scratching.

Works by Hope Gangloff and David Herbert.

The artwork itself varied greatly, from paintings and installation pieces to mixed media works and photography. I was enamored with the work of Brooklyn-based photographer Steven Harris, and illustrator David Herbert (his "Scrooj" is pictured above, at right), of New York, whose works were both on offer at the silent auction. I was also drawn to the portraits of Hope Gangloff, on view at the Susan Inglett Gallery, which serve as a commentary on consumerism by featuring objects like drinks, packaging, and book covers.

Overall, Passport to the Arts has the potential to be a distinctly enjoyable arts-based day out but is undercooked in its current form. With greater community awareness, a decreased ticket price, and perhaps a revised calendar date, we could see this become an opportunity for the art world to lower the walls and bring the public in—and out—to play. But if you like art, mark your calendar; with a group of wine-loving friends, or with your boss's credit card, it could be a great time.

Prescott Perez-Fox is an art director living in Jersey City. These days, he spends less time painting, and more time blogging. Read more at Perez-Fox.com and Your Business Card Sucks.