The Nativity Story

Posted on by Thor

As I drove North on I-4 I got nervous about going to Pinocchio’s Puppet Theater since I figured the Altamonte Mall must be packed since it was the last shopping weekend before Christmas. Surprisingly it was easy to find parking and it wasn’t too crowded in the mall. When I got to Pinocchio’s I slipped in past the velvet rope. Sarah Lockhard and Heather Henson were manipulating several puppets, just finishing up a rehearsal. Along the side wall of the theater there was a trio of medieval performers with recorders, a vi0lin and mandolin. They were the Olde Noyse Trio. The recorder player glanced over at me while I sketched. He said, “Your Tom aren’t you? I played recorders with your wife Terry.”

The puppet show began with the annunciation as an angel appeared before Mary telling her she would immaculately conceive a child. The Mary puppet was manipulated by Sarah Lockhard who panted in surprise upon seeing the angel. Mary was no more than a foot high. Joseph who was much older than Mary had a difficult time believing Mary was with child. The truth was reveled in a dream. Some children squirmed, not understanding all aspects of the story.

When the Nativity Story was complete, Sean Keohane stood at the set alter an announced that they would set up the manger scene again so children could get a closer look, and parents could take pictures. A little boy shouted out, “I want to see the baby!” When I inspected the puppets up close, a pupeteer took one of the three Magi’s and she started lifting his skirt. “This is my favorite part.” she said. Neatly sewn on the Magi’s butt was a cloth label that read, Jim Henson’s Workshop.

Wheels 4 Kids Distribution

Posted on by Thor

The bicycle distribution took place in front of Howard Middle School which is on Robinson just East of North Summerlin Avenue. Coming from another appointment, I arrived late. I wasn’t in the best of moods. I was honestly annoyed and impatient. I didn’t waste a moment. I just leaned against a tree with the full sun warming me as I worked. The wind kept blowing the sketchbook closed till I finally clipped one of my pens on the flapping page to keep it in place. I couldn’t see the Mounted Police horses though I knew they must be around. Children’s names were being called over a megaphone and I heard Santa chuckling in good will. A policeman kept signaling passing cars to slow down. He had to shout at times in annoyance at SUV drivers who were in a mad rush.

Patricia Charpentier walked up to me and said, “I knew I would find you on the periphery here.” I showed her my sketch which only had a light blue sky washed in. She picked up several prints I had done for the LifeSketch project. This particular LifeSketch was going to be about how her parents met. Two young boys were yelling with joy behind me as they tested their new bikes on the school’s running track. Patricia pointed out a little girl who was riding her tiny pink bike with training wheels and a mini child seat for a doll. She was adorable as she tried to keep up with her mothers long strides. My foul mood melted. How could I remain angry when faced with so much goodwill? Firemen posed for a group photo in front of the “Wheels 4 Kids” banner. They shouted out “Merry Christmas!” and the photographer pressed the shutter button. The Mounted Police Horses clomped in front of me. Kelly one of the volunteers riding tapped her butt and asked me if I had sketched her. I was being jokingly reminded that I had let those proportions get a bit wide in a previous sketch. Last year 94 bikes were given away and this year around 64 bikes were distributed. Perhaps people can give less but they still give. I was still sketching as the truck pulled away and people scattered.

Wheels for Kids

Posted on by Thor

As I approached Fire Station 1 on foot, I saw that all the trucks were parked out front leaving the cavernous new garage as a Christmas workspace. The firemen were working like greased lightning busily constructing some 68 bikes for children in need this holiday season. These guys know how to use a wrench and I had to struggle to catch the fleeting gestures as the bikes were built. I set my stool up at the base of the fireman’s pole and immediately got to work. One fireman spoke to me for a few minutes. He said they love getting the chance to build these bikes each year. This is the ninth year in a row that bikes have been given away. The program began in 2002 when school bus routes were canceled from Reeves Terrace to several downtown schools due to budget cuts. Commissioner Patty Sheehan wanted to find a way to ensure children had bikes to travel safely to school.

The fireman pointed out that they have to decide each year who gets to build the bikes and who gets to give them away. Jokingly he confided that perhaps it is the “pretty boys” who give the bikes away. He took great pride in how quickly he could build a bike however. In about a week the bikes will be given away to children in Reeves Terrace community. Each bike is custom built with a specific needy child’s name on it. I sketched this outpouring of goodwill last year and I can’t wait to sketch it again this year. The Orlando Mounted Police escort a firetruck which acts as Santa’s sleigh. The huge police horses act as reindeer. Watching a little girl wobbling on her new bike then gaining balance with the help of a fireman is a heart warming image that still lingers with me.

“We take a lot of pride in the holiday spirit this event brings to kids and families who need it most. Nearly 700 bikes have been distributed through our Wheels for Kids program thanks to dedicated sponsors, civic leadership and community commitment.” said Commissioner Sheehan.

CFHLA Gala

Posted on by Thor

The Central Florida Hotel & Lodging Association Gala was held this year at the Brand new Peabody Hotel right near the Convention Center. As Terry and I drove up to the Hotel, we saw a sign for free parking on the right so we took a right turn into the entry and dropped of the keys with a valet. The new hotel’s lobby is immense. It has the feeling of a space station with it’s tall glass facade and curved oak panels. At first the event didn’t seem well attended but when we rounded a corner the crowd of black tuxedos and ballgowns suddenly appeared. People milled around the bars and the tables full of silent auction items. Terry placed a bid on a leather hand bag but was thankfully outbid. There were the usual suspects, a signed basketball, gift baskets and a few art prints.

Elegantly dressed stilt walkers wandered among the crowd. I envied them thinking it would be the perfect angle to sketch the crowd from. Hal Studholme compared the event to a party thrown by Salvidor Dali’s wife. While Terry was being a social butterfly finding her friends from the Philharmonic, I agonized about what I should sketch. There was an upper level which would have given me a good overview, but Terry pointed out that the dining room doors would be opening in half an hour. Not enough time for a detailed overview. I bit the inside of my mouth and waited. She had made the right call because only moments later the doors swept open and the stilt walkers tried to convince people to go inside.

We sat at the table with the Friends of the Philharmonic. Dinner was decent. I ate quickly and started this sketch in the pauses between courses. Everyone at the table knew of this blog and that they might end up in the sketch. A member of our group joked that I should sketch the woman seated at the table behind us. She had on a tight shear dress and was busty. He said my site would get twice as many hits. I didn’t sketch her. On stage there was a billboard sized check to the Orlando Philharmonic for $10,000.

A Beatles cover band performed as we were getting desert. Then a scrim lifted and the Orlando Philharmonic was there as back up. Soon the dancing started but I had a cold so I wandered back out to the lobby thinking I might try a second sketch. I didn’t have it in me. I lounged on a large couch and watched a group of 6 or so stilt walkers dressed in 60’s rainbow flavored suits as they danced and vogued.

We went up to a friends room upstairs and marveled at the TV inside the bathroom mirror and neon lights under the dresser which were motion activated. Down at the valet we found out parking was actually $10. We were Shang hai’d! My head was ready to explode and I just wanted to rest.

Manatee Viewing Center

Posted on by Thor

Driving North from Port Charlotte on I-75, Terry and I needed a break and some gas. A sign on the off ramp announced a Manatee Viewing Area (6990 Dickman Road) and we decided to explore a bit. The viewing center is near Apollo Beach. Our destination was visible from miles away. We drove straight toward these billowing industrial smoke stacks.We pulled into a fenced in industrial parking lot. Zorro our pet cockatoo was in his travel cage in the back seat, so we decided to go one at a time to the viewing platform. Terry went first. Zorro and I patiently waited in the car. I noticed a “no pets” sign posted next to the gift shop. When she got back, Terry told me I had to do a sketch. She wanted to read a book while sitting on some picnic benches she had found. I carried Zorro’s cage to the picnic table. People kept asking questions about Zorro when Terry wandered off to use the bathroom. “How old is he?” “13.” “Does he talk?” “Yes, he says I love you and hello.” When Terry got back I quickly walked out to the viewing platform.

I didn’t see any Manatees in the murky green water but they were there. Manatees congregate here because the coal burning Big Bend Power Station pumps out warm water, which was used to cool unit 4, into the discharge canal that leads out to Tampa Bay. Manatees gather here when Tampa Bay’s water Temperature drops below 68 degrees. On January 15th and 16th the viewing center will be celebrating its 25th anniversary. Terry called me on my cell phone just as I was starting the sketch. She was being asked by a volunteer security guard to remove Zorro from the property. I had to lug his heavy cage back to the parking lot.

I made my way back to the viewing platform and got to work. A muffled recorded announcer kept repeating facts and figures over a loudspeaker. I couldn’t make out a word of it. I was halfway into the sketch when a female volunteer approached me. She asked what I was doing. My stomach tensed. Something about how she asked the question made me suspicious. I told her I was sketching. She told me that no pictures are allowed to be taken of the power plant for reasons of National Security. She told me there was a security officer at the power plant who kept an eye out for anyone taking pictures. I kept sketching the whole time she was talking. It turned out she was an artist herself. She asked me if I planned to exhibit my sketch. I decided to tell a white lie saying no one would ever see it. She tried to convince me to sketch the mangroves or drive a couple of miles down the road to sketch Apollo Beach. She didn’t stop me from sketching however. When she left she simply reminded me that pictures weren’t allowed. As I sketched I started to wonder if there was someone on the power plant with a sniper rifle and high powered scope watching my every move. I sketched faster. My experience has been, that after a warning, another person would invariably boot me from the property. Sure enough as I was throwing down watercolor washes, a volunteer in a wheel chair approached me. He asked, “What are you doing?” I sighed and replied, “Sketching.” He went on to tell me that one of the volunteers was an artist. I pointed out that I had already met her. He reminded me that no pictures were allowed, then he rolled away, happy. A female tourist asked to see the sketch and after complimenting me she pointed at the power station and said, “Pollution.”

I never did spot a manatee though I did see ripples in the water where the snouts would break the water line for a breath. I dropped the sketchbook off in the car before searching out a bathroom. I didn’t want to give any volunteers an opportunity to confiscate the sketch. Terry and I were happy to drive away. I should point out that I rerouted some of the pipes and I moved the position of one of the scrubbers to confuse any terrorists who might be using my sketch to hatch any devious plots.

Christmas Tree Tent

Posted on by Thor

Sometimes I spend so much time researching possible subjects, I loose sight of the quirky things that pop up around me every day. Driving into the Full Sail parking lot I noticed a large Christmas Tree Tent had been erected. An inflatable Homer Simpson offered D’0H NUTS to the incessant and furious 436 traffic. I passed this tent for a solid week before finally deciding I had to sketch it. I sat in a roadside drainage ditch to get the proper vantage point.

I had been sent on an assignment to sketch a banking CEO’s home but when I got to the street, I discovered it was a gated community. I made several calls, but never got the gate code. I started to drive home when I remembered what Homer would say in such a situation, “D’OH!” I decided to make the drive over to the Christmas tent. I never realized that this tent had the best quality prices and selection! Why would people get their trees anywhere else? People must travel hundreds of miles, making the pilgrimage to this sales mecca. I had stumbled upon the Best Christmas tree sales tent in Central Florida!

The parking lot directly behind the tent was empty. I only saw one person. He came out with a gas can to fill the electric generator. The billboard was for a rape help center designed in delicate purples and pinks.

A Kindness of Ravens

Posted on by Thor

There was a mad rush to get things finished opening night of Macabre Vignettes #3 Snow. There was the enraged search for an electrical chord which involved throwing things out of the way and then a mad flash of black Duck taping the wiring down. Audio equipment was being moved from downstairs to the balcony in the final moments. Seth Kubersky announced, “5 minutes to open house!” A few dancers who were still dressing and applying make up said, “Thank you 5.” That didn’t leave me with much time to finish my sketch. Below they were working on a dance routine that involved interacting with a large raven. The dancer held two lines that manipulated the birds sharp talons. As they rehearsed, Genevieve Bernard walked quickly by getting ensnared in the near invisible lines. “My bad.” she said. There was no harm done. It seemed like there were too many loose ends for the show to open on time. Leah called for a 5 minute extension. The pulse in the room quickened. Finally Seth shouted out, “House 0pen!” People started to drift in. I had a few more watercolor washes to add and I slapped them down. Showtime!

I walked down the web encrusted staircase and ordered a Blue Moon at the bar. Then I put the sketchpad away and relaxed on a green couch . The show had already started with dancers wandering among the audience marveling at the environment. Bloggers Jana Waring and Mark Baratelli wandered in. The dancers were in their own world never interacting with audience members. Once a dancer held a hand out towards a man walking by. He hadn’t noticed her and her longing gesture lingered. When the dancers moved among the ravens, one of the control wires got all tangled in a knot among the talons. The bird hung limply just a few feet in front of me. Finally I couldn’t resist, I stepped forward and untangled the poor bird and then held the control line. A dancer leaped toward me and took the line smiling. However the bird had spun so many times that he couldn’t be raised any higher. The dancer valiantly held the line but the bird would only loose altitude never going back up. It finally fell to the floor and was brushed aside by Leah. I admired the dancers for adjusting to such technical problems without missing a beat.

Over time the dancing was no longer enough to hold me. I needed some thread of story to keep me engaged. I never became involved enough to suspend my disbelief. Staging the large puppets was a problem since they were best viewed from the front. They would spend agonizing moments with their backs to the audience. I walked around the room incessantly, changing my point of view. Most of the audience however remained stationary unable to see the action or gesture of the puppets. Tamara Marke-Lars stated that the large creations were sculpture first and puppets second. She pushed the boundary between puppetry and art. Sometimes for me, art isn’t enough if it doesn’t support a solid story.

Christmas in the Park

Posted on by Thor

A free concert in Winter Park’s Central Park was the perfect way to get in the Christmas spirit. It was a very cold night for Orlando. I arrived maybe half an hour early and already the great lawn was packed with families who had come out with picnic baskets, blankets, wine and even fine china and candles for the occasion. I felt a bit unprepared with just a sketchbook, pen and some watercolors. After I set up my stool on the sidelines, Ken Sperduso walked up and said hello. Ken was a former Disney colleague and a wonderful painter. I hadn’t seen Ken in ages, it was a pleasant surprise. His whole family was camped out not far behind me. Ken said he recognized me from behind because of the sketchbook in my lap.

Large shadow box containers were arranged on stage and around the lawn, housing original Tiffany stained glass windows which were created for a church in NYC in the early 1900’s. At the start of the concert they all were illuminated from behind. The instant they blazed brightly, the crowd burst forth with applause. It is rewarding to hear people applaud for visual art. These amazing works had iridescent colors that only Tiffany could perfect in molten glass. This display was made possible thanks to the Morse Museum which houses the world’s largest collection of Tiffany’s work.

The concert featured the Bach Festival Choir and Brass Ensemble. As I sketched, I pulled my hands up into the sleeves of my sweatshirt to try and keep them warm. Periodically I had to blow into my cupped hands for added warmth. It felt like Christmas time. When I finished the sketch I walked around in the crowd for a while looking for a possible second sketch. I walked under a streetlamp so I could see the colors I had just painted for the first time. Mr. and Mrs. Claus were handing out candy to children. They were dressed in vintage 1900’s red wool and white fur outfits. They looked warm as they calmly posed for family photos. I considered a sketch but my fingers were cold, and the jolly couple were constantly on the move. The Park Avenue store windows glowed warm and inviting. With all the families huddling close together for warmth and the angelic voices of the children on stage singing, I started feeling out of place, alone, with only my obsessive compulsion to sketch as company. As I turned away and walked down Park Avenue towards my truck, I pulled the sweatshirt hood up over my head and felt instantly warmer. The children’s voices were still harmonizing behind me and I let the warmth spread as I walked briskly back toward home.

Fisherman’s Village, Punta Gorda

Posted on by Thor

While visiting my Sister, Pat Boehme, in south Florida over the Thanksgiving Holiday, we decided to hit some stores in Punta Gorda for Black Friday. Pat drove us to Fisherman’s Village which is a series of shops that line an old dock. The stores were all decked out with Christmas decorations. It was way too early for me to consider sketching Santa or Reindeer. I walked the length of the dock, looking in all the shop windows without much interest. I decided to sit outside behind the shops and enjoy the view of all the boats. Later this month there will be a nautical parade where boats are decorated to the hilt with Christmas lights. Stringing lights from masts certainly would make for simple Christmas tree shapes.

One of the boats motored out from its moorings while I sketched. A man was behind the wheel shouting out orders and a woman was on the bow coiling up some ropes. She was in a bikini. The warm beautiful day made it difficult to imagine that Christmas was right around the corner.

International Cultural Drum Exchange

Posted on by Thor

I woke up at 6am in order to get down to the UCF Center for Emerging Media (500 West Livingston Street Orlando). I had been given a tip by Dana Mott that a group of Nap Ford students were going to have a live video conference with a drummer from South Africa. As I drove east towards downtown, the sun rose above the horizon and expanded into a deep orange fireball. I don’t get up this early very often so I was delighted, my eyes squinted and misted up to the spectacle.

It was a freezing cold morning. Alright, I didn’t see any ice, but for my thin blood it was cold. The front door at the UCF Center was locked so I fired off several frantic calls on my cell. During the second call, a guard appeared and buzzed me in. I shook off the cold and made my way to the Bridge, a small auditorium on the first floor. The Nap Ford students were already seated in a semi circle around their drums. A piece of audio equipment had been Federal Expressed to South Africa the day before. On that distant continent they were reading manuals and struggling to plug everything in. Since there was no live feed, the Nap Ford students had some time to rehearse. The drums resounded jolting me awake. The room warmed and glowed to the rhythm and young voices.

The image from South Africa flickered live onto the big screen. Introductions were made and the students, most of them around ten years old, performed for the South African drummer named Lucky Paliso. As they found a resounding rhythm and sang, Lucky smiled broadly. There was magic in the moment. This was a cross cultural exchange that needed no words or translation. When they finished, everyone on the big screen clapped after a ten second lapse. Lucky pointed out that drumming is probably the worlds oldest form of communication and it is universal across all cultures. He told everyone how much he enjoyed the performance then he offered advice on interlacing rhythms within a beat. To drive his point home he taught the children a beat which they repeated. Then, as they continued to play, he performed an intricate rhythm that wove in and around their beat. It was playful, spirited, uplifting and inspired.

Jennifer Porter-Smith, the Nap Ford principle, thanked everyone who helped create an experience the students would certainly remember their entire lives. Lucky told the children that they were fortunate to be part of an ancient cultural tradition. In Senegal not anyone can play drums, they must be born a drummer. He said, “You can take an African out of the bush but you can not take the bush out of the African.” The students flipped through my sketchbook hungrily after the event was over. I got one of the best compliments I have had in a long time when a ten year old gave me a high five.

Such multi-cultural exchanges feel like a jolt of collective good will, a promise of fulfilled potential. There should be less reason for misunderstandings or conflict in a world filled with music. On the drive to my next sketch location, I felt happy and oddly at peace. What a great way to start the day!