Monday Night Jazz Jam

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Monday Night Jazz Jam was founded by the late pianist Billy Hall. This event has provided Great entertainment and supported numerous charities since 2008. The event happens on Monday nights at the New Mingo’s Restaurant, 100 South Eola Avenue Orlando FL, in Downtown Orlando.
Networking happens between 7 and 8pm and the Jam runs from 8 to 11pm. Several TOP Musicians and Vocalists including
Joseph Jevanni on the keys, Don Black on the Sax,
Jacqueline Jones-on vocals. The evening is hosted by Yvonne Coleman of Jazzy103.com

I arrived early and got a table near where the performers would set up.  The drums were piled in and set up. The drummer asked if he could borrow my table for a second. He rolled his drum sticks on the table I assume to get a feel for their balance. Yvonne welcomed me. When the music fired up, the place came alive.  I ordered a drink and settled into the sketch.

I sketched through the first set and finished up during the second set. Different musicians rotated in throughout the evening. There were plenty of singers who rotated in as well. There is an undeniable energy to these Monday night Jams. I didn’t stay until the end. Once the sketch was finished, I headed home.

The Feldman Dynamic

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When performance artist Brian Feldman lived in Orlando, I tried to sketch as many of his performances as I could. Nearly two years ago he moved to Washington, D.C where he has only done one performance piece, a “friend building” experience called “BFF” for the Capital Fringe Festival. I lost all contact with him after the move since my primary interest was always in sketching and writing about his performance concepts. Orlando lost an unusual and unique artist when Brian left, and I lost a major source of inspiration.

“The Feldman Dynamic” was first performed in 2003 and started Brian on the road to becoming a performance artist. I didn’t start following Brian until 2009 when I started this blog. I knew about the Dynamic, but had never seen the original performance which was part of the New York International Fringe Festival. The members of his family have since moved in different directions. His parents are divorced. His mother is a breast cancer survivor and his sister has been married and now lives south of Orlando. Nearly a thousand miles separate the family’s daily lives.

When I got to the Jewish Community Center in Maitland, I had to have my drivers license scanned at the security desk in order to enter. Outside the Harriet and Hymen Lake Cultural Auditorium I saw Brian putting fliers on a table outside the auditorium entrance. He was a nervous ball of energy. I was pleased to see signs that announced “No Google Glass allowed inside the Theater!” No aspect of the performance was permitted to be filmed, but sketching was strongly encouraged during the pre-show announcement. I laughed out loud.

On stage the dining table was being set up and Brian’s mom, Marilyn Wattman-Feldman, was at the back of the auditorium warming up dishes in the kitchen.  Brian’s dad, Edward Feldman, was busy trying to get connected to the internet. He had me flip through a large portfolio full of his art work.  Adrienne McIntosh, Brian’s sister, was trying to get the internet password from JCC security. Brian helped me set up a crude barrier that would keep the audience from noticing me as I sketched from stage left. The resulting structure was rickety and I was afraid the whole time that it might collapse into the audience. Luckily it held up. An old radio was found backstage and placed on Edward’s computer table. Brian let me know that it was the same one from the last show he had performed there, a JCC production of Neil Simon’s “Brighton Beach Memoirs”15 years earlier.  Both he and Adrienne were child performers.

At 7:15pm the house opened and the audience entered. The family walked on stage together and sat down for dinner. Edward spent much of the time standing and serving food. A bottle of sparkling cider couldn’t be opened since no one had a bottle opener. Edward put the bottle on the edge of the stage and said, “I bet the bottle will magically open itself.” Sure enough, Carl from the audience got up and opened the bottle with his utility knife. For some reason Brian was wearing a tuxedo he had rented for Amanda and Matt Simantov‘s wedding. I knew this because he had e-mailed me and asked if I wanted to rent the same tux for the wedding. I stuck with my suit which I discovered had paint stains on the pant legs. I don’t think anyone at the wedding noticed.

Brian is a very private person. For one of his recent performances,he stayed off Facebook for an entire year. It looks like that performance lasted for four months. Then Brian explained that Facebook
only lets events last for four months. Since he didn’t log on to
the site for the entire year, he couldn’t keep changing the start and end
dates to cover the full 12 months. Yet another hangup with the site. I had no idea what life in D.C. has been like for him. The family chatted about films they had seen. Brian has seen tons of films and his mother has seen maybe 2 in the last year. He stood up midway through the meal feeling he needed to make an announcement to is family. His father asked, “Are you getting married?” “Wow, that makes sense”, I thought. Brian let them know that he had been fired from his job. He showed them the letter of termination. They read it in silence but Edward felt Brian should write a letter of apology and maybe he would be taken back. Brian had fallen asleep at a security job at 2am. “Well, they have to understand, maybe you were tired!” his father consoled. The audience laughed. Brian let them know that he wasn’t asking to move back. He is getting unemployment and actively looking for another job. Performance art would have to wait until he got a full-time job. Adrienne had an announcement as well. She got a promotion at Disney moving from one department to another. She was even getting a raise. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound!

I had a strange dream last night. Brian and I were seated on the ground floor of a parking garage that had been converted into a women’s prison. A woman in an orange jumpsuit had ankle cuffs with a noisy chain and was being escorted up a ramp by an armed guard. Brian was smiling broadly and giving me advice. “You should get a job,” he said. “I work at Full Sail,” I replied. “No, you need to get a full-time job. It has been too long.” It was an odd dream. I have no idea what it means.

After dinner the family stood around the computer looking at family pictures and shots of Adrienne’s dachshund. Before I knew it, they were taking a bow. The audience was maybe a quarter full with most of them being friends and local media. There were plenty of left overs. Edward served me some salad and beef brisket, which was delicious. I topped it off with some apple pie and got back to the sketch. Stage manager Sharli’ Ward was having an animated conversation about Israel with Marilyn. If you didn’t know about The Feldman Dynamic, you missed a personal, unplanned slice of life and some great food! It was theater as life.

Wynwood Block

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During Art Basel week, (December 5-8), graffiti artists from around the globe converge on the Wynwood Arts District to cover buildings. Some buildings are completely covered. Wynwood is Miami’s gallery district and every time I have gone the place was hopping. I go to sketch the artists at work.

The artist on the right is named Bruno, or “BR” for short. His wall portrayed a vibrant inter planetary scene. Characters were covered in vibrant Mexican fabric patterns, and sinister green clouds floated overhead in a purple universe. The other artist was likely painting a portrait of a rap or hip hop artist. The face was cut up into a grid and each panel was a different color. Even the van parked in the street was covered in dripping ice cream graffiti lettering. I never did figure out what the lettering spelled.

Terry and a friend went to one of the many Art Fair tents and when my sketch was done, I walked towards them. My college, The School of Visual Arts, was exhibiting student work. Terry introduced me to the SVA Faculty who were supervising the show and I shared one of my sketchbooks with them. There was some really good art in this tent. One memorable wall was covered with paintings on small panels of Obama. Each panel was painted in a different way creating an amazing variety all of the same face.

The Pérez Art Museum just opened in Miami and a group of us went to an exclusive preview of the collection in the evening. It is an impressive modern museum. Hanging from the ceiling of the entries were columns covered in foliage. The ground floor had an exhibit of model boats suspended from the ceiling that I liked. Had there been time to draw, that is what I would have focused on. An entire room on the second floor had hundreds of bicycle wheel rims interconnected by a horizontal metal framework. Guards tried to stop people from spinning the rims, but there were too many rims and the compulsion was too strong. People watching was more fascinating than some of the art. High society was out in force and every fashion was strutting on display. I would like to return sometime when it isn’t so crowded.

As we were leaving, we bumped into Patrick and Holly Kahn. Patrick just opened the new Snap Gallery in the renovated Cameo Theater, 1013 E. Colonial Drive Orlando FL. The gallery opened on January 18th and the crowds where overwhelming. It is the first time I’ve been to an exhibit in Orlando where people had to wait to get in. It seems Patrick has managed to bring some of the Miami excitement and exclusivity back to Orlando.

Positions

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All the guests who had gathered in Miami Beach for Elaine Pasekoff‘s birthday went down to the convention center together. There were eight of us packed into two cars. Admission to Art Basel in the convention center is expensive. As we all stood in line for tickets, Terry realized that there was a group rate discount for ten people. The couple behind us in line joined us to get in on the deal. With the discount, the ticket price was $26.

I wasn’t allowed to enter the exhibit hall with my art supply bag. I had to check it. I pulled out one sketchbook and stuffed it in my belt and pulled my shirt over it. My pallet went in my front pocket along with one brush. When we got in, my plan was to immediately settle somewhere and get a sketch done. I quickly was drawn to this astro turf lawn with undulating hills. It came complete with fake trees and there were always people sprawled out and relaxing. This little corner in the vast sea of gallery exhibitors was called “Positions.” This area was a platform for galleries spotlighting a single emerging artist with one existing project. Visitors could discover ambitious new artists from all over the globe.

With the sketch done, I texted Terry and searched the maze of galleries to find her. This year  Art Basel had more Representational art as opposed to abstract art. A New York gallery had a wall full of paintings by Edward Hoppers. Terry had the premise that since the economy is picking up, that galleries are pulling out great art works because they feel they can get the proper price for them. She asked the gallery owner about this but was told,”If you have a Hopper, you sell the Hopper.” I joked that last years show was all about hair and mirrors. Literally every other piece used human hair in some way or a mirror. This year however I was delighted with much of the work that I say. Execution matched concept.

After a few hours of seeing endless art and getting lost, gallery burn out sets in. Elaine and her friends went out to lunch while Terry and I kept looking. We set a time to meet back at the parking garage. Terry and I got there on time, but the rest of the group lingered at lunch. Terry and I decided to get lunch ourselves and then take the bus back to the condo. This gave us a chance to visit another satellite fair that had nothing but prints. We paid close attention to how work was framed since I need to frame work soon.

Weekend Top 6 Picks

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Saturday February 1, 2014

 10am to 1pm $10. Dessin de Figures. Maitland Art Center. Maitland Art Center Studio 6 231 W Packwood Ave,  Maitland,, FL. This is the return of this workshop from last year. It will be an on going figure drawing session that has been offered by Steve Pi, one of the Sculpture Instructors at the Maitland Art Center and one of our members. This is part of the Orlando Artist inspiration activities that this group was founded on. This workshop will be open to any ORLANDO ARTIST MEMBER that wants to attend and pays the model fee . This is part of Steve’s Sculpture class with a figure model who is posing for that series of classes. Steve is the Host & moderator and will determine (First come) who can sit-in.

7pm to 11pm Free. Swingout Saturday. 644 Florida Central Parkway, Longwood, Fl. The music is hot and the dance floor will rock! Beginner dance lesson at 7pm. Dancing from 8 to 11pm. http://www.facebook.com/events/155347454601985/    More info: http://www.SwingoutSaturday.com/

8pm to 11pm Free, but grab a beer. Tattoo Art by Tattoo Artists. The Falcon 819 E. Washington Street, Suite 2, Orlando, Fl. The Falcon presents Tattoo art by Tattoo Artists show. The show will include art from some of the best and most talented artists in the business, including; Albert Diezhandino, Ant Iannucci, Brett J Barr, Chazz Hysell, Derek Jennings, Earl Funk, Edward Argibay, Gina Marie, Jeremy Scott, Randall Muntz, Scott White, Steven Alfieri, Steve Roberts, Timmy Dub …and more! Curated by “…And The Three Bears”

Sunday February 2, 2014 Groundhog Day!

10am to 12:30pm $10 Crealde Sketch Class. Crealdé School of Art, Saint Andrews Boulevard, Winter Park, FL. Life drawing from nude model.

1pm to 3pm Free Yoga. Eastern side of Lake Eola Park, Orlando, FL. Occurs weekly.

9pm to 11pm Free. Comedy Open Mic. Austin’s Coffee: 929 W Fairbanks Ave Winter Park, FL. Free comedy show! Come out & laugh, or give it a try yourself.

Peeing Man

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The first stop at Art Basel in Miami Beach was to see the public art in Collins Park, a few blocks away from the convention center. The Bass Museum of Art is at the western foot of the park. Terry went inside the museum because she had to pee. She had several cups of coffee with breakfast. I found a shady spot and started to sketch. There were 29 sculptures scattered throughout the park. A few guards sat in shady spots. I had a premonition that I might get kicked out of the park for sketching so I didn’t sit too close to a guard.

“The Peeing Man” by Tom Friedman is stainless steel, cast from a maquette made of crushed aluminum.  Tom Friedman, born in 1965, lives and works in Easthampton
Massachusetts. This sculpture is based on a self portrait of the artist. I was impressed with the length and girth of the streaming hose. The stream of pee glistened in the light. The urine stream measured 142 x 25 x 1 centimeters. I noticed a guard approaching me from my left. He slipped in behind me and looked over my shoulder. Terry said that he was there for the longest time. Soon I relaxed and forgot about him. Periodically people would stop next to the figure to have their picture taken with him. I took a photo of Terry kneeling with her head arched back and her mouth open so it looked like he was peeing in her mouth. It was good clean classless fun.

The most fun sculpture in the park was called “Appearing Rooms” by Jeppe Hein. This was a fountain that would shoot up streams of water that created walls. Terry walked inside and a sheet of water rose up enclosing her inside. It is possible to remain perfectly dry if you time your moves just right. Inside the overall square, more walls would rise up creating four rooms.  One dad walked inside with his fire year old son. They didn’t know about the inner wall streams and the young boy was straddling a wall that caught him off guard, soaking him. The dad yanked his son up quickly to his hip. I never went inside since I didn’t want any watercolors getting soaked. Terry however, had a blast.

Miami Beach

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Every year Terry and I go to Art Basel in Miami Beach. We drove south on December 4th and returned on December 8th. Art Basel showcases the world’s top galleries. I read that over a billion dollars worth of art is sold here in one week. We stay with Terry’s friend Elaine Pasekoff and Derek Hewitt. Elaine is the host of a syndicated radio program called “The Book Report.” The couple have several condos in a high rise overlooking Miami Beach. The first thing I did when we arrived was to grab my sketchbook and take in the dusk view from their balcony.

This week was also Elaine’s birthday so plans were in place for a big Disco blow out of a party. Friends and relatives were all driving into town along with the Art Basel throngs. We all decided to go out to diner at a Cuban Restaurant only a few blocks from the condo. Although I have gotten press passes in the past, I didn’t manage to convince Art Basel management that I was a journalist. For that reason, most of my focus would be on the smaller art fairs that were scattered in large tents all around Miami.

Looking through the Art Basel pamphlet, I ran across a page that I had used to clean off my brush because I had forgotten a rag. It was one of the more abstract and expressive pages in the publication. Dinner with friends and watching the moon rise over the ocean made for a nice end cap to the day.

TrIP Home

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The TrIP home from the “There will be TrIP” reading at The Gallery at Avalon Island was quite the adventure. As I exited the venue, Lisa Bates rode by on the quirky, Pewee Hermanesque cougar spotted bicycle she calls “The Beast“. I envied such simple and efficient mobility. Her bike was once stolen but then police quickly found it thanks to it’s undeniable uniqueness. Google maps on my iPhone directed me back towards Division and Central. I started to get nervous as I crossed under I-4 into the heart of Parrimore. The bus stop was a simple pole stuck into the pavement on a street corner across from a mission. A red neon cross announced, “God is Love, Christ is Savior”. There was no seat at the stop but luckily, I always carry an art stool. I sat down and leaned against the bus stop sign pole and it gave way. It wasn’t cemented it place but was just stuck loosely in the hole. Once it stopped moving I leaned back again.

I heard a couple arguing a block away and their loud voices got closer. “I got Aids from You! You gave it to me from F*cking a F@ggot!” Another woman staggered up to me holding a Styrofoam plate of food. “How are You!” she shouted. “I’m fine” I replied sheepishly. “WHAT!” She shouted. I shouted back “FINE!” “Oh”. She stumbled to the corner and the plate of food fell from her hand splatting onto the street. She ignored it and weaved the other way across the intersection. Two guys walked towards me deep in an animated conversation. “You need to be careful when you have a box of cocaine. The cops know it the second they get there and pull behind you.” The conversation trailed off as they walked away. “I am going to die.” I thought. I leaned back and tried to blend into the surroundings. When on earth is this bus going to come? Maybe I should hike to the Lynx main bus terminal. It might be safer there. Yet, at least 5 police cruisers drove by while I waited.  I wondered if the police thought I might be a dealer.

The bus did finally arrive. I sat midway back. In front of me, a guy sat exhausted leaning forward against the seat backs in front of him. A woman in a red down jacked sat fingering her phone intently the entire drive back home with the bright screen inches from her face. Two teenagers with loaded back backs piled in. The bus driver would give each passenger that stepped on board a trivia question. “What band sang “Hotel California?” The passenger was stumped. I had just been to an Eagles concert a few weeks prior so I knew the answer. I kept the answer to myself. The driver talked to the two back packers about hunting gator in the Florida swamps. I assume he was pulling their tails. The back packers that is, not the gators. This driver most certainly deserves a raise. He kept passengers on their toes. When I got off, I called Terry who was at home. The hike home from the bus stop is about 4 miles and it was a freezing cold evening. Screw the authenticity of a full round TrIP by bus. Terry offered a ride and I was taking it.

I started walking west towards home and Terry said she would find me along the way. I was wearing my full foul weather gear which was dark blue and black. The second I pulled my hoodie over my head, I warmed up. I saw headlights driving towards me but I used my baseball cap to cut the glare. Terry’s car drove past me a bit and stopped. As I walked up from behind to the passenger door, she suddenly drove away. Was she toying with me?  I knew she would have to turn around, so I crossed the street and continued hiking home. On the second pass, she once again stopped and as I walked up, she accelerated away. Several texts confirmed that she couldn’t see well at night. I suspect I might have looked a bit scary as I approached her car. On the third pass I flashed my cell phone light at her to communicate that I was a “friendly”. We drove the second half of the TrIP home with ease. Terry made it quite clear that she felt this TrIP was a bit insane. But I stepped outside my comfort zone and it was indeed an adventure.

There Will Be TrIP

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On January 14th, there was a reading by five different artists who had taken part in the Transit Interpretation Project (TrIP). TrIP asks artists to travel to destinations using the Lynx bus system. The poems, narratives, and images make there way to “The Corridor Project” TrIP site. Julian Chambliss, Patrick Greene, Dina Mack and Moriah Lorraine Russo read their stories. They posed for a photo with Lynx CEO John Lewis.

I sketched Patrick as he read about his bus TrIP. He romanticized the travels of the beat generation like Kerouac knowing full well he would be home that evening to a home cooked dinner from his mom. The most fascinating write up came from Julian who gave a brief history of public transportation in the south. It seems northern cities developed their public transport systems before the advent of the automobile so the systems they designed had to be robust and efficient. Southern cities urban sprawl came about after the advent of the automobile so public transit came just as an afterthought. He also spoke about the history of Eatonville Florida the first entirely African American community. Although it might have seemed like voluntary segregation, it also demonstrated that this community could not only survive but thrive.

Jesse Bradley was the host for the evening. Amazingly he has been taking the Lynx buses every day for 17 years. He tried to drive a car and he even tried a moped with apparently tragic consequences. The angry mobs on the Florida roads are intimidating. I always drive with the notion that no one else on the road is thinking and that they could do anything with no reason or thought of consequence. Even so, it is seems many drivers want to drive through the traffic in front of them. With people texting and talking on cell phones the incidences of full speed rear end crashes are escalating. This weekend I saw a car waiting at a red light get hit at full speed from behind. It is crazy out there people. A bus is a huge battering ram but there must be a high incidence of accidents from impatient, insane car drivers drying to swerve around the bus as it pulls up to each stop.

Chapbooks of the stories read are being made available for $8. There are 39 copies available as of this writing. As I left the reading I grew anxious knowing I would have to take the bus back home. I walked under I-4 into Parramore to the closest 21 bus stop.

The TrIP

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Patrick Greene who is the curator at The Gallery at Avalon Island, 39 S Magnolia Ave, Orlando, FL, asked me to be a part of the TrIP Project. The TrIP Project has artists and writers ride the Lynx bus system to report on the mass transit system in Orlando. The first plan was for me to sketch Benoit Glaser and several other musicians who were going to play their instruments on the bus. Unfortunately Patrick gave me the wrong date and I knocked on Benoit’s door a day early. A second option was to sketch Genevieve Bernard‘s Voci Dance who did an interpretive dance performance on a bus. However, a close friend and artistic spirit, Mary Hill, took her own life and I needed to go to her memorial service that day. The bus tickets sat in my pocket unused for the longest time.

Finally, I saw that there was going to be a reading at The Gallery at Avalon Island called, “There Will Be TrIP” on January 14th. I decided I would take the bus downtown for this reading. When I graduated high school, I decided to go to the School of Visual Arts in NYC. I stayed with my parents the first two years and took a bus to the city everyday. The bus ride and consequent subway rides took well over three hours out of the day. Since I also had to get back, that was six hours in transit. Sketchbooks at the time became filled with sketches of fellow passengers. I didn’t own or drive a car for the entire decade I commuted to and stayed in NYC. When I came to Orlando to work for Disney Feature Animation, I got off the plane, took one driving education course and then got my drivers license at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Within the first week I had purchased my very first car, a sweet Honda del Sole convertible. Not once did I ever take a bus in Orlando.

On the morning of January 14th, I got ready for my TrIP adventure. It was raining, so I put my sketchbooks in a zip top plastic bag and put on a full set of rain gear that included plastic pants. I looked like I was ready for an Arctic Expedition. Google Maps on my iPhone said the closest bus stop would be near Universal Studios. It was a four mile hike. The reading downtown was going to be at 7pm. I left at 2pm since I had no clue what I was doing. I hiked through isolated suburban side streets and marveled at all the McMansions surrounding a lake I walked around. The rain was persistent but light. I felt a little uncomfortable walking with my hoodie up since Trevor Martin had been gunned down for walking in a neighborhood much like this I imagined. Someone was just recently shot for texting during the previews at a movie theater. People with guns are crazy in Florida.

Besides raining it was also hot and humid which meant I was getting wet from the inside out rather than from the outside in. When the rain became the faintest mist, I took off the rain jacket to vent some body heat. One of the side streets leading to the bus stop turned out to be the entrance to a gated community. I would have to walk around the gated community adding more miles to my hike. I realized when I was maybe one mile from the bus stop that, had I driven, I would already be downtown and parking,

I walked past a bustling middle school with long lines of cars waiting to pick up children. I realized this was a prime sketch opportunity although I imagined some parent might question my motives. When I arrived at the bus stop it was 3:30pm. I had been hiking for an hour and a half. Five construction workers in bright green vests were at the stop. Conversation was about car envy. A female worker lamented a friend who had a job and makes money on the side. Her friend could afford a Honda Civic. The construction workers make about $150 a day helping build a huge new motel right next to Universal. A large SUV driven by a fellow construction worker pulled up and they all piled in. The 21 bus that I was waiting for didn’t arrive for another hour at least.

On board, the large female driver had to help me figure out how to insert the ticket into the column shaped payment device. Digital lights and numbers gave me too much information to look at. The ticket got sucked in and then spit back out. On the back of the ticked, I found out I could board any bus until 3am in the evening, after that the ticket was void. On the bus, people sat in tight constrained poses clutching bags with arms crossed.  A mom boarded with her excited little girl. They likely had just been at Universal. The child’s eyes were filled with delight.  This bus trip was a fresh adventure for her. They sat next to me and I saw the girl motioning to her mom to look at what I was up to. She sat on her moms lap and watched every line and wash as it splashed on the page. At the Valencia College bus stop a gorgeous woman got on and stood right beside the driver checking her phone periodically. I sketched her quickly, so happy she had brightened the scene. Sketching on the bus got me motion sick. The bus lurched and pitched every time it stopped and it stopped 65 times on the route downtown. The driver also had a lead foot. Perhaps she had learned to drive at the Daytona racetrack.

At 5pm I arrived at Central and Garland Avenue downtown near Church Street Station. The walk to Avalon was less than a mile, so I figure the TrIP probably took three and a half hours whereas a drive downtown usually takes me half an hour but I park in the suburbs to avoid meters and being towed, so the walk can be an extra half an hour or so. So my assessment is, Bus = 3 1/2 hours and Car = 1 hour. The good news is that if I ever got drunk downtown, I know what bus would get me to within 4 miles of my home. But why would I get drunk downtown? Since I was early, I decided to go to Jimmy John’s to get a sandwich. I checked into Avalon where artwork and poetry was being hung on the walls. A poem by Naomi Butterfield was hung by a painting by Parker Sketch. The show is titled “I Believe.”