The Orlando Philharmonic and Mad Cow Theater joined forces to bring Sweeney Todd to the Bob Carr Performing Arts Center. Davis Gaines performed the title roll and Faith Prince performed as, Mrs. Lovett. This production far exceeded my expectations. Gaines voice resonated with loathing and impatience. Faith also had a magnificent performance. Having seem Tim Burton’s movie last year, in which a girl with a thin mouse of a voice sang as her window, I cringed at the thought of listening to Christina’s song again. However, Shelly Cooper performed with a warmth that mesmerized. The whole cast deserved the standing ovation that they got. The hall was as full as I have ever seem it.
I quickly sketched the stage before the play started and when the lights went down, I had to stop since I could no longer see the sketchbook. I tried lifting the book off my lap up to my chest to catch some ambient light off the stage, but the man seated in front of me was tall and had a huge head. His head eclipsed all available light. The lady seated beside me seemed amused with my contortions. During intermission she asked “Are you a stage designer?” I replied “No I am a blogger”. She pulled out her iPhone to show me the picture she had taken of the stage. Although I might complain, I prefer the challenge and personal view point of a sketch. Besides before the play starts they always announce that there is to be no photography. They never say no sketching.
Trick eats grass
After her riding lesson Terry washed Trick and used a scraper to get most of the water off. She then let him wander about eating grass in the sunlight so he could dry off before going back in the barn. Trick left a sizable gift on the washing platform which had to be swept up and put in the portable poo bucket. These horses are truly pampered.
While I was sketching, Trick would chew the grass and kept stepping forward toward me. For whatever reason he must have thought that the grass right under my feet was the most delectable. I would back up a few steps and sure enough he would end up nibbling right at my toes.
M&M Equestrian Center
Today Terry had another lesson at the Snow Kissed Stables, M&M Equestrian Center. It was a beautiful morning for a ride. For the first time the sweet smell of orange blossoms filled the air. Pink blossoms around the barn were just starting to bud. Spring is in the air. When Terry was in the barn getting Trick ready for the ride, I could hear her constant sneezing. She is allergic to the pollen in the air and I suspect she might be allergic to horses but that certainly will not stop or dampen her experience. Emily her instructor is patient and offers constant advice. She does practice tough love sometimes to make a point. She shouted out to Terry once, “See this pebble in my hand? I am going to throw it at you if you do not sit centered in the saddle.” Wouldn’t you know, Terry started riding centered in the saddle.
Orlando Museum of Art
I went to the OMA last night for “First Thursdays”. Every first Thursday of each month the museum hosts art created by local artists for one night. The evening usually has live music, food and booze. The cost to get in is $10. Food and booze are extra. I thought Terry might want to go but she wasn’t picking up her cell phone. When I got to the museum I decided to sit on the edge of a fountain and sketch the entry. I liked watching the various individuals waiting for dates and the warm welcomes when people are reunited. Like myself many people were on there cell phones trying to figure out why they were left waiting. The event only lasted till 9PM so by the time I finished sketching I discovered that there was only 15 minutes left to go before the museum closed. I had totally lost track of time.
The exhibit fit neatly into a small room right off the lobby. One artist had really nice resin sculptures of a dragon and werewolf. Another artists acrylic paintings of movie characters were really fun and quirky. I should have taken cards.
Brian Feldman of “txt” fame was also exhibiting himself as a performance piece. Brian stood with his back against a wall being filmed by a video camera which projected a large image of his face on the wall beside him. Brian was practicing method acting by trying to make himself cry. His face was contorted in a harsh grimace but I didn’t notice any tears. Either he was cryed out or he was unable to tap his inner sorrow in such a loud party atmosphere. I unfortunately didn’t have time to get a decent sketch of him, but once again he held my attention far longer than any painting or sculpture in the room. His performance reminded of a short story entitled “The Hunger Artist” by Franz Kafka, it has a surreal disturbing quality, that I liked. Bravo!
Civil War Fashion
Terry and I went to the civil war fashion show at the Orlando Regional History Center. The show was staged in a beautiful old court room. Featured were clothing worn by men, women and children from both the North and South, free and enslaved. A local radio personality, Downtown Billy Brown, and the History Centers Mike Brown hosted the show. There self deprecating humor set the stage for a lively and entertaining event. The entire crowd gasped when a woman came out in her many layers of undergarments. They were equally shocked when a young girl came out with her entire neck exposed indicating she was old enough for marriage. The saying above the judges bench reads: Equal and exact justice to all men. This seems a reminder that woman would not have equal rights under the law for another 60 years or so.
After the show I talked with some of the reenactors and decided I would go to the next reenactment and embed myself with the 2nd Florida Volunteer Infantry Company E, The Hammock Guards, lead by Captain Clay Kearney, to sketch the battle as a Civil War Correspondent. I have about 3 weeks to fashion an 1860s civilian outfit from Goodwill clothing. I may actually go to this first battle as a 21st century civilian, since shopping for clothing is always a painful and exhausting experience. I will see what can be sketched from a spectators vantage point.
College Park Publix
I will start this post with a comment from former Orlando resident Cherie from Dorchester, MA.
“Publix No. 19, you live forever in my heart. When I lived downtown, we drove to your lot just to see the giant fin. We called you Happy Publix. Just seeing you made us smile. When I lived down the road, I was a lucky girl. The staff always seemed friendlier than other markets. They had theme days and dressed as cowboys and such. Sometimes they just wore shirts that said “No. 19.” So cool. After Skycraft, it is my second favorite landmark in Orlando. I’d forgo the wide aisles and expanded hummus selection of new supermarkets just to see that neon fin again…”
I pulled into this Publix parking lot when I got lost once looking for the Kerouac house in College Park. I just wanted to use the lot to turn around but the 1950s neon caught my eye and I knew I would have to go back. The original store was closed in 1998 after being open for business for 32 years. Plans were hatched to build a newer more contemporary market, but College Park residents wouldn’t stand for it. The architects had to remodel the store and this 1950 retro look is the result. The Photo Mart scene in the Steve Martin movie “Parenthood” was shot in the parking lot of the original store.
Digital Seance
I returned to the Kerouac house to see a second performance of txt. I realized after my first sketch that the performance wasn’t so much about the man reading the text messages, Brian Feldman, but it was about the uninhibited comments that came from the audience who remained anonymous writing the script on there iPhones and PDAs. This time I sat in the far back corner of the living room so I could sketch as much of the audience as I could. The performance was again peppered with sexual innuendo and some paranoia. This time Brian was asked to do more physical actions such as jumping jacks. One unexpected incident occurred when he said, “Get me a cup of water, I am parched, this isn’t in the script I really need a cup of water”. Kim darted into the kitchen to get a cup of water. After the performance Brian indicated that the call for water was just another text message. I found myself laughing louder than ever at this performance. The uninhibited mind is a strange and quirky beast. I was fascinated by the glow of the PDAs through red thumbs and fingers. The small room crowded with people again made the reading feel like a digital seance.
Confessions of a critic
Wall Street Journal theater critic Terry Teachout gave a talk on what he feels a theater critics roll is in society. He told a story of how he met a critic once over a drink and when he asked his fellow critic what he was up to next, the critic perked up and said with glee that he was about to pan a play. He explained that to many critics go into a production with a review already set in there mind. He feels that to many critics are not competent enough to right reviews. The first 15 minutes of any play always have the audiences full attention. At that 15 minute mark the play ether continues to grab the audience or they are lost. He always goes into a play wanting to write a good review.
Terry confessed that his first love was music, but at a painful point in his life he had to admit that he did not have a creative spirit. He found he was a better writer than a musician. Therefor he always approaches a theater review with a bit of reverence, respecting the very act of putting on a show. He explained that theater is as vibrant as ever, but in these uncertain economic times it is important that people go to the shows. The very future of theater depends on it.
The Stable
Terry’s weekend horse riding lessons continue. She started going to a new stable since it is closer to home and the lessons are cheaper. Terry’s new trainer, Stacy, is offering advice on every aspect of riding. The last trainer Terry had at the previous stable only shouted out “More legs, more legs!” Terry was never sure what he meant by that. The main thing I notice about this new stable is that there are no flies. Nothing makes sketching harder than having flies buzzing in your ears. I also like that this stable looks more like a traditional barn. There are 4H trophies and pictures everywhere that indicate that raising and riding horses has been in the family for a long time.
txt
txt was a performance by Brian Feldman at the Jack Kerouac house in College Park. The premise of the performance piece was that the audience would text the script to Brian as he performed by reading his iPhone. A small stage was set up in front of the fireplace in the living room and 2 lamps were placed on either side of the stage as foot lights.
The performance felt more like a digital seance rather than a simple reading. All thumbs and index fingers were busy typing as Brian started to read a strange disjointed mix of ideas. His reading was peppered with sexually explicit language that even comedian George Carlin might be embarrassed by. I began to think I was in the room with a mix of lunatics rather than a quaintly bohemian audience. That guy in the back row looked like he was having way to much fun as he typed his entries. He must have been the one who typed over and over that fingers are people.
At one point Brian glanced at a message and turned to look at a picture of Jack Kerouac on the wall behind him. He then recited, “That Jack Kerouac is a hunk, I’d do him”. Had a woman in the audience really typed that? Could the guy giggling to himself in the back row have typed that? I found myself laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of many of the texts being transmitted.
The young couple in the sketch had to share an iPhone. First she would text and then she would hand it off so he could text. My wife, Terry, said than none of her texts had been recited. That caused me to think afterward that perhaps like a seance not everything was as it seemed. Regardless I was certainly entertained.
Post Script: A number of participants informed me that without a doubt all texts were strictly written by audience. Texting seems to unlock inhibitions, it offers a chance to write things that would never be said under normal circumstances. txt was a Mad Lib with an emphasis on Mad.