By the end of the evening, I'd only made it to half of 'em. Don't try the same tonight, kids.

In its year-and-change of existence, First Friday has become a monthly excuse for cruising the evening streets of Chinatown in search of all things art-related. An ever-growing, ever-changing collaborative effort among downtown art galleries, restaurants, bars, retailers and even tattoo parlors, the self-guided art walk regularly attracts thousands to an area traditionally abandoned post-sunset.

Stretching from River to Richards streets, First Friday has also become something of a one-event catalyst for changing the impression and — to some extent — economic fortunes of old downtown Honolulu after dark. And it all happens again today from 5 to 9 p.m. (see box).

At 5 p.m. last month, The ARTS at Marks was filling with a mix of twenty- to fiftysomethings. Some were fresh from work, still dressed in business-friendly aloha wear. Others in far dressier attire were chilling before heading to the Hawai'i Theatre for Shanghai Circus' opening night. Sangria, pineapple punch and assorted light hors d'oeuvres were offered gratis — donations greatly appreciated, of course. Gipsy Kings played in the background.

The exhibit was "Intuitive Choices: Black & White, Identity & Temptation," a mixed-media show of paintings, sketches and sculpture. "Contemptuous Spider," a glazed stoneware sculpture by artist Jan-Peter Preis, drew Claire Kato's and my attention. Eight legs up, it looked more playful or dead than contemptuous.

"Look out there," said Kato, checking out Nu'uanu Avenue through The ARTS at Marks' large glass windows. The sun setting and the sky turning a winter blend of orange and purple, dozens of people were already bounding up and down the street, moving from gallery to gallery. A five-piece group of percussionists on one corner was competing with a bluegrass duo on the other. The bluegrass-ers were losing the sonic battle, but had the larger audience.

"It should be like that down here every night," said Kato.

I abandoned the less-than-arrogant spider's possible ownership to Kato, grabbed a gallery walk map and headed across Nu'uanu Avenue to the Studio of Roy Venters. A longtime downtown art presence, Venters has two galleries: one displaying his own colorful mixed-media work, the other a next-door gallery with work from other local artists. Much of Venters' sales go down in the hour before First Friday begins, so the artist was kicking back and watching the quickly growing scene outside.

Among last month's visitors to the downtown galleries that participated in the First Friday event were David Friar of Kane'ohe and Susan Killeen of Hawai'i Kai, holding Keiko Matsuda Friar, 6. Photos by Rebecca Breyer • The Honolulu Advertiser

Creselda Tom of Makiki browsed galleries last month. Tonight First Friday is also celebrating Chinese New Year with fireworks and lion dances.

Lesley Kline and Kilin Reece — aka the Squirrel Hunters Bluegrass Band — played on the corner of Nu'uanu and North Pauahi as part of last month's First Friday.

Bob and Nancy Morrissette and Patricia Cheyne check out art at the Pegge Hopper Gallery.

Dianne Gibson wanders through the art on display at the Pegge Hopper Gallery during January's First Friday in downtown Honolulu.

Lately, he's been finding himself closing his doors at 10 p.m. on First Friday. So "I'm thinking of doing an after-hours thing because I have this space, my downstairs area and next door," he said.

Venters changes the theme of his displays each month around First Friday to keep things fresh.

"The sales pay my bills," said Venters. "Before the art walk, it was hard to keep the rent paid because we didn't have this mass of people."

Offering a chocolate chip cookie, Venters said he wouldn't want a downtown scene with "all the sleaze" gone, but would appreciate one where people felt more safe. First Friday and the number of people it attracts are accomplishing that, he said.

Outside the Pegge Hopper Gallery, a spirited conversation about the merits of four more years of the Bush administration and U2's new CD was going down. To summarize: "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb" OK, Bush not so OK. A lowrider cruising by with Rammstein at full volume shut down discussion of both temporarily.

Back across Nu'uanu Avenue 'round 6:30 p.m., f/22 gallery was attracting people with a mixed-artist photography exhibit, wine and crudités.

"Whoa!" exclaimed one woman, gazing up at a faux skylight canopy of cherry blossom trees. Others followed her lead, vino and veggies in hand.

"We don't do a lot in sales on First Friday, but (the night) does a lot to promote photography in the area," said f/22 owner John Chisholm. "We get the same exposure Waikiki gets on any given weekend. But what we also get that they might not is a lot of locals and neighbors."

Chisholm opened f/22 in its current location at last October's First Friday and welcomed 600 through the door his first night.

"It blew our minds," he said.

Next door to Chisholm's f/22, the Bethel Street Gallery crackled with people, splashy mixed-media art and remixed Sarah Vaughan. Etched with good luck sayings like "You always inspire me to do my best work" and "Where there's a will, there's a way," even the gallery's floor couldn't escape the artsy treatment.

Speaking near the gallery's entrance, owner Gina O'Neill was interrupted often with large congratulatory hugs and hellos. She asked people leaving to make sure they checked out other galleries.

"First Friday isn't really a sales time for us. It's more of a celebration," said O'Neill, echoing f/22's Chisholm. "It's about exposure for the artists and just celebrating the artists and what they do."

Near 7 p.m., the percussionists were slamming the bluegrass duo in both sonic power and audience representation on Nu'uanu Avenue. At thirtyninehotel multimedia gallery, a couple dozen people were milling about its downtempo-blanketed interior or taking in city views in its outdoor courtyard. Funky and fresh underground prints by Angry Woebots and Andy Howell — many of them depicting pandas in varying emotional states — lined the walls.

"I like that the community is starting to take this real seriously," said manager Gelareh Khoie, of First Friday. "It's great for the artists we have here, too, because they love it when a big crowd finds their work." People generally find their way to thirtyninehotel "after making the rounds. We have to kick them out by 9:30."

Tables at owner/artist Hank Taufaasau's Hanks Café Honolulu were packed with folks enjoying libations and live Sheryl Crow covers, so we headed upstairs to check out Sharky's Tattoo. The soundtrack at Sharky's was all about swingtime jazz and the buzzing of tattoo drills. A couple of large males stared at the walls pensively as tattoo artists worked on their forearms.

A quartet of fiftysomethings walked up the stairwell, perused Sharky's three walls full of designs, and left. A trio of twentysomething girls searched through a binder full of designs. A couple with two kids in tow stared at a painting of a monster cow destroying a city.

Up the street and around the corner at Mercury lounge 'round 8 p.m., the crowd was a mix of twenty- through fortysomethings. The room was moodily lit; the vibe nicely chill. A DJ was setting up in the corner for some late evening drum-n-bass, but for the time being, Sade had the room all to herself.

Bartender Jared Vincent shared some homemade salsa with us, asked if we liked it, then refused to share his secret recipe. Otherwise, we liked the guy.

"We get a lot of walk-ins and look-arounds on First Friday. It's definitely a mixed crowd," said Vincent.

"I can smoke in here. That's the appeal, dude," muttered a guy to my right, lighting up.

Solo blues harmonica accompanied by a chunky drum loop drifted out of an unmarked door on Nu'uanu Avenue as we headed for Soullenz multimedia gallery. A couple dozen people walking both sides of King Street gave it an oddly busy feel for 9 p.m.

Up a couple of flights of stairs on the corner of River and King streets, Soullenz occupies a large corner loft lined on one end with red brick. Local percussion collective Jammarek was workin' sweet extended drum jams. Paintings of the Dalai Lama, Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong and Jim Morrison looked down on a floor full of dancers, whirling and stomping hard enough to make the floors tremble.

A 10-piece unit — with the addition of some visiting friends from San Francisco — Jammarek seemed locked in as much of a trance as its audience. Built on several types of drums, a saxophone, electric bass and acoustic guitar, the beat rose gradually to dramatic peaks before climaxing into menacing lows. Dancers screamed and reached out their hands. Kids skittered about the dance floor and throughout the gallery crowd.

"You should stop writing about it and get into it," said Bliss Midkiff, hanging near the gallery's open windows overlooking Nu'uanu Stream and River Street. "Jammarek is, like, the (expletive) bomb! Maybe you should keep it secret."

A message painted on one of Soullenz's open windows read "the place of endless possibility and infinite probability." Cool air was blowing in, Jammarek's drums were fighting their way out. A couple kissed and twirled on a bridge spanning the stream.

A slower pace was probably the right idea.

Reach Derek Paiva at 525-8005 or dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com.