First Thursdays OMA

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I went to First Thursdays at the Orlando Museum of Art partly on business and partly pleasure. My first stop was the gift shop where I wanted to place the 2012 Calendars. I met with the shop manager, MaryAnn Keane, who loved the calenders and wanted a dozen for the shop. The woman behind the register said she would have to buy one herself. That was easy. I want to get to other shops but just haven’t had the time.

The theme of this First Thursday was sculpture. I had read that an artist was going to be carving a large cake. I searched for him but didn’t see any cake. I considered sketching in the room full of sculptures but the room was packed. I would have been confronted with many backs. Instead, I wandered back towards the music. France Neil was singing a sultry rendition of “Don’t Know Why” by Norah Jones. I love Nora’s sad, sweet longing music. I melted away to the sad lyrics. France has been singing at Disney since 2001 in “The Lion King.” I was tempted to mention my involvement working as an intern on the film but thought better of it. I still get goosebumps anytime I watch the opening sequence, feeling part pride and part joy to have played a small part. Several band members gave me their cards. Mike Bloomer was on the cello and David Capp was on the saxophone. David seemed to be in charge of the band, letting me know that they could add or subtract players depending on the gig.

A young woman and her mom introduced themselves to me. She follows the blog and told me to keep up the good work. I never did see a cake sculptor, but I had to go and find my way to a dance rehearsal across town.

Tree of Light

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I was at the United Arts Grant Application meeting where I first heard of Cole Nesmith’s “Tree of Light.” The sketch I saw at that meeting left me thinking it was a small sculptural piece. He joked that he ended up spending way more than the $1,000 grant. I went to Cole’s place on Portland Avenue to see the work in progress. I couldn’t see house numbers but I knew I was getting close when I heard a power saw. Cole was cutting planks off of wooden skits while Josh Owen was holding the wooden palette steady. A large aluminum structure filled the yard. Struts rose up at angles from a metal plate and then branched organically. Electrical boxes were welded at the ends of limbs and at junctions. The aluminum glistened in the sunlight. A large cylindrical beam acted as the trunk. It would be bolted to the ground and the upper limbs would be bolted to the top of it. For now it was lying on the ground. I started sketching. It was a chilly morning. Cole confided that his roommate was a bit of a pyromaniac who collected abandoned Christmas trees from all over town to burn, but that is another story.

Apparently the day before, Cole and Josh had been prying boards off of palettes using crow bars. It was back breaking, exhausting work. “The saw improved our productivity by 500%.” Cole said. The job for the day was to start screwing wooden planks over the aluminum frame. Cole and Jimmy rejoiced when one whole limb was covered. They had tons of work to do. This was no easy process. The aluminum is light, but when all the wood is screwed onto it, it will become a very top heavy tree.

Chris Clatterbuck showed up with a box full of electrical supplies. It was his job to figure out the inner electrical workings of the art piece. He knew of me because of the sketches I did of the Singing Christmas Trees at First Baptist Church where he is an audio visual technician. He disappeared up onto the porch while the tree took form in the yard. A huge Live Oak tree spread its branches over the yard and house. I was impressed by the electrical relays Chris was working on. There were circuit boards and inner workings I couldn’t begin to grasp. Cole showed me the strings of diodes that would be inside mason jars hanging from the tree. When a pedestrian pulled a chord, the diodes would light up, looking like fire flies.

February 2th the Tree of Light will he unveiled in downtown Orlando. It tree will be at the Seaside Plaza at the corner of Orange and Church St from Feb 2-Feb 29. The launch party is at 8pm-10pm on Feb 2 and is open to the public! I’ll be there to sketch. I have to see how it all comes together.

Drip Rehearsal

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The cavernous space DRIP is renting on International Drive is slowly transforming. I went to a dance rehearsal during the week long intensive. The space was full of the debris of a work in progress. Two ropes hung from metal rafters with knots and a foot loop at the base. They were used by dancers during the high energy show. The walls are being painted black and the floor is getting a multi pigmented marbleize effect using spray bottles. Scully Nolan and Melissa Kasper were working on the space as the dancers warmed up. Melissa was constructing paint can chandeliers which will eventually hang throughout the performance space. She also took photos of the loading dock entrance which will be getting signage and a black paint job. Getting into this dark venue will be like finding a back alley speakeasy.

The dancers were making sure new arrivals were up to speed on the choreography. Videos on iPhones were consulted to clarify moves. There was athletic crab like movement followed by sweeping movement through imaginary pigments. The performance space brings a new meaning to “the splash zone” since the whole room is in the zone. I splashed watercolor on my sketch, knowing I was safe for now.

Jessica Mariko ll the dancers wore neutral colors, blacks and whites along with browns and denim. Jessica was explaining that all colored pigments in the show have meaning. Each dancer is associated with a particular color. A female dancer throwing red pigment instantly attracted the attention of a male dancer of orange. He is with another dancer but can’t help but look when red catches his eye. The dance was about relationships and his need to do his own thing to make his life work.

A recording of the rock music blazed and the four female dancers did a run through of the routine. A dancer tried to figure out how high she could swing on the rope during the dance. Raw, sexy, colorful and unexpected, things are falling into place fast at what might become the hippest show in town.

Enzian Florida Film Festival Unveiling

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The invitation said, “Join us for an exclusive reveal party & receive a special gift. See why the 2012 Festival will be the best yet. You’ll be the first to know!” Exciting right! I packed my sketchbooks and rushed over. As the sky grew dark, the warm glow of the marquee and the Eden Bar looked inviting. Mark Baratelli arrived and I asked him to let me know if there were any free drinks. The signal would be a thumb swipe to the nose. By the time he came back, I was finishing up the sketch. He said there had been a platter of drinks but there was just enough in the cup for one dog’s tongue lapping. Suddenly I was thirsty. Amanda Chadwick was having a going away party at Blank Space and both Mark and I were heading there next. She is moving to Seattle Washington soon to be with her boyfriend Matt Simantov. I didn’t stick around to find out anything more about the Florida Film Festival, but If I find out more, I’ll keep you posted.

On my way over to Blank Space, I was walking around Lake Eola. As I walked past the Eola Grill, I noticed a whole bunch of red and blue blinking police car light blinking over across the street near the Greek Orthodox Church. Three men and a woman rounded the corner in front of me. They were boisterous and joking, for some reason, I felt uncomfortable. As they passed me, police officers with their guns drawn charged around the grill towards me. They shouted, “Get down on the ground, On the ground!” “Get your hands behind your back!” Thankfully the police charged past me and forced the group of people down, five yards behind me. I stopped. “Sketch opportunity!” I thought. But Amanda would only have one going away party, so I pushed on.

Amanda had hired Kelly Richards to play piano at her party and as always when he performs it was a great time. The second I got in he started playing “Somewhere Out There” and Amanda muscled me up to the microphone to sing with her. Our final, farewell performance. This time, we had no lyrics and at points we had to make up our own. The final line is “We’ll find one another, somewhere out where dreams come true.” Thinking back to the final Disney days, I changed the line to, “Somewhere out where, dreams die.” Outside the world of Disney dreams, the Phoenix can rise from the ashes. For some reason, when I got back to where Terry was seated, she was in tears. Is my singing really that bad? I’m sure when Amanda sang “Somewhere Out There”, she thought of Matt off in Seattle, but he was at the party and he even sang “Hava Nagila” which means “Lets rejoice!” All the women danced.

Kelly began playing the Peanuts Dance. Everyone danced in the style of their favorite peanuts character. I suspect I was dancing like Pig Pen. Mark sang a rousing rendition of “I’m not Going” from Dream Girls. We laughed and sang along. Across the street I could see a wall of tuxedos inside a restaurant. It was a fundraising party for mayor Buddy Dyer. Terry had been invited but it cost $250 a plate. We were having a much better time.

January Artist’s Critique

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Parker Sketch organizes these monthly or bimonthly Artist Critiques at Barefoot Spa (801 Virginia Dr.) I was running a bit late. I parked a block away and walked down Virginia Drive away from Mills. Belly dancers were rehearsing in a dance studio. I almost had to stop but I was late, for a very important date. I could see from the street that Barefoot Spa was packed. People were standing in the doorway. Luckily, I had my own artist’s stool so I pushed to the front of the room and set my chair up in a corner right next to Parker. Ken Austin was sharing some of his more abstract watercolors and I got busy sketching. I had recently had a chance to meet Ken on a group trip out to the Museum of Arts & Sciences in Daytona Beach and then I bumped into him giving a demonstration a few days later at Crealde.

Paul Martin is the artist seated to the right in the sketch with a baseball cap and flip flops. He went to UCF in the 90’s and then went to Miami. The Miami arts scene is thriving but he felt he wasn’t making headway. He returned to Orlando where he is combining new medias with old media. He presented a painting of a Chinese flag on Plexiglas. When he traveled in China he took photos of any graffiti he could find. It was rare and hard to find. He scrawled this graffiti onto the Chinese flag painting. He plugged the painting in and three small video screens played footage of the American Flag waving in the wind. Someone in the room wondered if the video screens had been manufactured in China. There was an irony to the piece and an underlying social comentary. Paul pointed out that a client over time might decide that new video might be needed and this painting, like software could be upgraded for a price. China Flag 2.0. Love it. Everyone in the room was mesmerized. Americans can’t help but watch a video if it is playing. That in itself says something about our culture.

Matt Charlan is new to Orlando, having come from Boston. He presented a large painting of a smiling baby’s face. The face filled the canvas and was offset a bit to the right. Matt talked about how he liked to paint in the dark using just flashlights. For him the act of creation is meant to be a struggle. When he paints, he actually doesn’t look at the canvas. He has a video camera set up across the studio and he looks at a laptop computer to see the brush strokes he puts down. In a way he is a voyeur to his own process. He uses the cheapest house paint he can find along with pastels, white spray paint and fixatives. He started painting on uneven surfaces to heighten the effect of catching the video vantage point. While in Boston he painted a portrait of Steven Colbert on a couch. The portrait can only be seen from one vantage point. If you move, the image breaks up. A video was posted on YouTube and it got three million hits. That is huge, like instant viral fame! It gained him instant notoriety in the Boston Arts scene. Yet the couch never sold.

Sam Rivers Memorial Tribute

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I heard Sam Rivers play within months of first starting this blog. He performed with his band at the Maitland Art Center at a closing party for the Florida Film Festival. For me, sketching as he played, it was a liberating experience. Lines flowed and danced on the page with abandon. The sketch became about expressive vigor not clinical accuracy. Sam’s music was about the freedom of loose improvisation. He was a dynamic, creative saxophonist, flutist, bandleader and composer. He died December 26th here in Orlando Florida. He was 88 years old. Over the course of his career, Sam played with many jazz legends in smokey lofts and bars including Dizzy Gillespie.

An open call went out for any musicians who had played with Sam as part of the Rivbea Orchestra, to gather for a Tribute Memorial concert at the Social in downtown Orlando. I arrived fairly early and found a table to sketch from. As band members set up, a microphone was placed stage left and people were invited to get on stage and talk about Sam and his music. One man got up and said that he found himself always holding a beer at Sam’s concerts. When it came time to clap, he would slap his bald head with his free hand. Sam saw the gesture and took to clapping his head as well when he finished a set. A band member felt honored and a bit intimidated being in Sam’s orbit. In one rehearsal Sam stopped and asked him, “What’s that note your playing?” He responded, “E flat.” “We aren’t there yet.” Sam said. There was a long silence, then Sam laughed out loud. He was joking with the performer. Dina Peterson had met Mr. Rivers a few times. He tended to take an interest in what she was doing and she was pleased when he picked up the conversation right where they left off many months later. Genevieve Bernard admitted that she used to go to Rivers concerts on her own when she was single because she loved the music.

The stage became crowded with musicians. The music was driven, spontaneous, raucous and free flowing. Anything was possible. Performers danced the razors edge, taking endless chances and reaching out. Cameras flashed and someone held up an iPad above his head, like a glowing billboard to catch the scene.

Sam’s wife Beatrice died in 2005. The orchestra played “Beatrice” named in her honor. The gentle music filled the room. You could feel the love. This song is now a jazz standard. After that song one of Sam’s daughters got on stage. She thanked all the musicians for playing his music, keeping it alive. She said that “Sam’s still playing, and he’s watching you.” With the funeral and memorial behind her, she had to return home in the North East. I started to well up. The room was getting smokey.

Members of the Rivbea Orchestra stood in turn launching into personal solo improvisations. The focus of my sketch switched from one performer to the next as they played. The energy in the room crackled and built. Everyone swayed to the beat. Lines flowed and splashes of color were thrown down with abandon. The whole band joined together and built to a cacophonous yet structured crescendo. The room went wild. The spirit of Sam’s music still ignited the crowd. The room was on fire. “Keep perking Mr. Rivers.”

Sharon Hartmann’s Holiday Party

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Chere Force told me about Sharon Hartmann‘s Holiday Party. Chere let me know that there would be plenty of talented musicians and a prime sketch opportunity. I had never met Sharon but Chere said she was someone I had to meet. I crashed the party. The house was in Winter Park near an I-4 overpass. I parked on a quiet side street then hiked to find the house since it was impossible to see house numbers in the dark. Most of the small homes in the neighborhood had small porches. I half expected to see musicians on porch rocking chairs when I arrived. The night air had a chill. Sharon’s home had an imposing flat facade. For some reason it resembled a dentists office to me. Maybe I had the number wrong.

I rang the doorbell and then tried the door knob. It was open. Sharon shouted down the hallway, “Come on in!” A dozen or so people were gathered in the kitchen. I introduced myself to Sharon but I got her name wrong, calling her “Shanon.” I’m such an idiot with names. She asked if I was Irish. I explained that my name was German but my mom was Irish. Though the math is probably more complicated, I consider myself half Irish. I tried a pita chip, dipping in some humus. Whoa! It was hot! I rushed around and quickly poured a sangria. Joe Waller was talking about a young musician he met who could learn how to play any instrument with strings just by picking it up and experimenting. “He could play a banjo and make it sound like an acoustic classical guitar performance.” Joe makes Cheer Wine in his home state of North Carolina. A collage aged girl told him that she and her classmate would hoard Cheer Wine when they found it. One boy confessed he had a picture of Cheer Wine as his desktop on his computer. Joe said it is being sold in Publix now so I have to get me some!

Jubal’s Kin arrived with a crowd. A woman joked with Gailanne Amundsen that it must be cold since Gailanne wasn’t bare foot. There was a feeling of a tight knit family gathering. Folks hugged and caught up. I felt a bit like an outsider but I sensed that once all these talented musicians unpacked their instruments, there would indeed be, “a joyful noise.” In the kitchen, I spoke to Brian Smalley for a while. Brian explained that Orlando is a town whose music is built off the glitter and flash of the tourist trade. For that reason grassroots home spun folk music is rare. If you head up north, people love the honest sounds of acoustic musicians. Most music played downtown at night is about raw volume.

Joe Waller lead the way upstairs to a large family room that had banjos, fiddles and guitars hanging on the walls. The place was like a museum. Chairs were arranged in a circle and slowly musicians made their way upstairs. Two huge bass’s were carried up the narrow stairway. Wednesday Tunes made his way up the stairs in his moccasins and red socks. He was the elder statesman among the musicians and he was treated with reverent respect as he was helped into a leather recliner. His white mustache was waxed and curled like Dali’s. His bow was raised to his fiddle and the music began. There was no sheet music, everyone found the beat and melody and just joined in. Much of the music had ancient Scottish and Irish roots. This music was handed down through the generations. The music was exhilerating, raw, homespun with ancient cultural traditions. It is music that binds people together. It was a joy to sketch as everyone joined in. Mark Brannan played a Bodhran which is an Irish drum made by a good friend that lives in Galway Ireland.

The music continued and I started a second sketch. A group splintered off and started playing outside on a patio. From where I stood I could hear both groups playing. A photographer with a flash wandered everywhere. The light would blind me an when I recovered I’d continue sketching. Terry was going to join me but she ate or drank something downtown that made her sic. A co-worker had to drive her home. She would have enjoyed the music and probably could have joined in. When I was done sketching, I had a great conversation with photographer Jean Guenther Brannen. She didn’t use a flash and she caught some great shots. We talked about how different yet similar our mediums were. It is always fun to compare notes with another observer of life. I hope I can catch more of these impromptu musical gatherings. The sketch opportunities are limitless, and the music exhilarating.

Museum of Arts & Sciences

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Chere Force and her husband Rory sent out an invitation to local artists to join them on a trip to the Museum of Arts & Sciences in Daytona Beach. About six artists answered the call and we all decided to meet in Altimonte Springs and car pool from there. The morning we left it was incredibly cold for Central Florida, down in the 30’s. The main reason for the trip was to see Reflections II: Watercolors of Florida 1835-2000, from the Collection of Cici and Hyatt Brown which is on exhibit through March 25th of 2012. I was particularly excited to see work from Andrew Wyeth. I piled into the back of the Force family van and was soon joined by Dotti Stickly. Dotti and Chere are both members of the Central Florida Watercolor Society and they have exhibited work in the same shews. The rest of the artist drove to Daytona in another SUV.

At the museum, we all split up and explored the museum on our own until it was time for lunch. I spent the morning examining all the watercolors up close. The Wyeth was a bold image in black and white washes of a pirate on a beach. Andrew was just 13 years old when he did it and his father’s influence was strong. Humbling and inspiring work. I was disappointed that only one of his watercolors was on exhibit.The large room with warm yellow walls had perhaps a hundred pieces on exhibit. I was excited to find a painting by Thomas Moran, a Hudson River School artist whose work I admire. The painting was called Solitude, Fort George Island. All the paintings were done in Florida. One of the highest prices paintings was a study of Spanish Moss in Tampa Bay by Winslow Homer done in 1886.

After examining all the watercolors I walked out of the gallery and was immediately confronted by this Volusia County Giant Sloth skeleton. Time to sketch. This 13 foot tall skeleton is the best preserved and most complete fossil of this species in North America. It has been in the Museum of Arts & Sciences for the past 30 years. Chere remembered seeing the Sloth as a child. Children who saw the Sloth for the first time would stop in their tracks shouting out “Whoa!” They would scamper around the base trying to see the beast from every angle while mothers waited patiently. Before lunch, we took a group photo in front of the Sloth.

For lunch, our group went to a Tai Restaurant where I had a fabulous Pad Thai. I was suffering from post holiday starvation and perhaps I had been staring at bones for too long. I was famished. When we returned to the museum we were given a tour of the watercolor exhibit by a docent named Tom Davis. The exhibit showcased work from artists over a 168 year span. 23 women artists were represented and three living artists. Tom was a painter himself and much of the time he outlined the differences between oil painting and watercolor. The obvious difference being that watercolors are painted from light to dark while oils are painted dark to light. I’m not sure he understood he was talking to a room full of artists. I sat in a leather chair in the center of the gallery and spun around following his progress. I had already seen the work up close. He did say something that I have since been experimenting with. He pointed out in one landscape that there were essentially only two colors, red and green. To get darker greens, red washes were applied over the green. I’ve started applying this principle of applying complimentary color washes over areas to build up darks and it is a quick effective way to build a sketch. There was some amazing work in the exhibit and some work that didn’t have strong enough value changes to have a solid punch. Watercolorists have to be fearless because changes can’t be made after a wash is applied. I use the medium because I can fit the palette in a pocket and sketch anywhere.

A mother walking with her children dismissed the exhibit saying, “Oh, those are only watercolors.”

Musical Mondays, The Abbey

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Terry and I went to the Abbey for Musical Mondays. It was a cold walk from the car. Temperatures were going to drop down to the 30s, and in Orlando, that is big news. There weren’t many people there when we arrived. Kelly DeWayne Richards, Orlando’s Piano Man, was trying to get the piano audio connected to the sound system. He introduced me to Emily at the bar and I recognized her but I couldn’t figure out why. I ordered a beer and found a tall table with a good view of the stage while Terry was in the bathroom. Amanda Chadwick arrived and she and Terry sat in one of the cushy leather sofas in front of the stage. While the place was pretty empty, Terry got up and sang, “Soon or a Later.” I placed her in my sketch as she held her glasses and tried to read the lyrics. The stained glass ceiling slowly changed colors from cool blues to hot reds.

Kelly called up Emily from behind the bar to sing. She sang, “Someone Like You” by Adele and suddenly I realized I had heard her sing before. She has a strong, silky, emotive singing voice that just bowled me over. Her full name is Emily Heffelfinger and getting to listen to her perform was a treat. I can’t believe a talent like that works the bar. As Kelly said, “She’s a great singer and she mixes a mean martini.” Kelly gave her a hard time and jokingly she shot him the finger.

Sharon and Kelly stood at the microphones and sang a moving rendition of, “The Rose.” The place slowly filled and singer after singer got on stage to sing. Some kept their hands tightly tucked in pants pockets while others clutched the microphone. Some voices were shy and tentative while others belted out the lyrics. Musical Monday is a great way to kick off the week. The festivities start at 7pm so I’d suggest having dinner downtown at a nice restaurant and then have a musical nightcap at the Abbey.