The Diviners

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Beth Marshall Presents brought this Depression Era story set in the dust bowl to the Garden Theatre (160 West Plant Street, Winter Garden). Directed by Aradhana Tiwari, opening scene set the stage full of movement as townspeople went about their daily routines. A windmill stood in stark silhouette and Buddy Layman played by CK Anderson gasped awake. Walking down a dirt road was C.C. Showers played by Michael Marinaccio. C.C was a former priest running from his fathers calling. He found work with the Layman family.

Buddy Layman was a high spirited, somewhat retarded boy who referred to himself in the third person. He had a gift for divining where there was water. He used a tree branch to search as farmers followed with eager anticipation. He had a natural gift. He could feel a storms approach on a clear day. It became clear in time that the boy feared water because he once almost drowned. His mother died in that incident and Buddy was unable to accept that she would never return. Buddy and C.C. developed a bond, a brotherly friendship. Buddy’s fear of water was so severe that he would bolt at the sight of a bucket. He feared he could not breath when it rained. He never washed, and that became a problem cause he constantly had itchy feet.

The cast did an amazing job with thick accents and rural mannerisms. I was particularly taken with Marinaccio’s performance. When he demonstrated his father’s preaching, he became bigger than life, bombastic and powerful. What he yearned for however was a simpler life away from the priesthood. But once townsfolk discovered his past calling, they wouldn’t let him be. He was asked to say grace before meals and anytime he was seen with Buddy, they thought he was saving the boys spirit and that he could cure Buddy’s fear of water. This conflict between too much and too little faith is what caused a tragic oversight.

The final scene of the play was beautiful and tragic. The stage was illuminated from below with a green flickering light. C.C. had lost Buddy in the river. They moved under the water and the theatre filled with the muffled sounds of bubbles and rushing water. When they burst up for air, the light burst warmly on and the watery audio stopped. When then slipped back under, the world flickered green and muffled again. They struggled against the current. Townspeople moved in horrified slow motion.

The play ended as it began, a full circle, with townspeople going about their business and then Basil, the town farmer, and Dewey, a farm hand, gave a eulogy. The weight of their words had new meaning. Amazing Grace filled the dark theater. The Diviners will run December 15 -18th. Performances are on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at 8pm , and Sundays at 2pm.

Harmonious Universe

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In the beer garden behind the Social Chameleon, the DJ Mo’Negro, had a portable mixing board perched open before him. His hand rested on the earphones as he mixed the music.A young woman painted several small automobiles and then spelled out, “Bank” in bright red paint. A dollar sign was added by another gentleman later in the evening. My favorite part of the mural is a gnarly black and white stripped tree which looks like it could grow and take over the wall. A young woman with curly blond hair knelled before it and I thought she might be the creator returning to let the tree stretch it’s limbs and grow. Unfortunately she just added a small detail next to the roots.

Todd Morgan got up on a short ladder to work up high. His wife Laura was going to paint, but when she was coached, she decided to sit it out. The creative impulse is so easy to break. Markus Adkins made bold large changes to the mural. He added a huge bold area of red above the large face of a woman. He liked adding paint with a squirt bottle letting it drip down. In spots the mortar of the block wall was accentuated with dark paint. The wall was compartmentalized yet in spots it began to pull together as a whole. A few more drinks and many more brush strokes and who knows where it will go. Work will continue on the mural on the evening of December 17th. Get out there and make your mark, everyone is welcome. “Be it, share it.”

Milk Bar Beer Garden Mural

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It had been a while since I went to the Social Chameleon. The inside of the place has been changed drastically with a large bar added. It is now an extension of the Milk Bar. I ordered a beer to sip while I worked.The front room was expanded into what used to be the kitchen. Harmonious Universe owners, Todd Morgan and Rodney McPherson, were out back getting paint ready and setting up. This wasn’t the first time the mural had been worked on, it was already covered with images. Laura and Todd Morgan were just recently married and I let her know that Terry and I just celebrated our 20th anniversary. She asked advice on how to make it last, and the only thing that popped into my head was “compromise.” I’m a man of few words when I’m sketching.

Artist Frankie Messina shook my hand and I later saw Pam Treadwell. I didn’t notice them working on the mural. High on the mural were some roses which I believe had been painted by Libby Rosenthal.

Artists slowly trickled in during the night. A photographer had his digital camera set up to take a shot every five seconds to create a time lapse view of the murals progress. A couple sat at the table I was seated at. Trevor and Nikki Divine told me that on New Year’s eve they plan to have a painting party with 60 artists in attendance. I definitely need to sketch that. They both recently had given up full time corporate jobs to peruse their art. At one artist’s gathering, Trevor was told he was more expressive and painted better when he used his fingers. Now he is strictly a finger painter. It turns out I had sketched Trevor and Nikki once before at the Cameo. I need to find that sketch and post it.

When a spot opened up on the wall, Trevor and Nikki painted side by side. Trevor painted a Buddha-like face and Nikki a delicate spiraling symbol. With so many artists looking to add their mark, there is the possibility that their contribution might get covered up as the mural evolves. A young woman arrived with a tall ladder. She braced it against the wall and moved some pebbles to give it a sure footing. With a bold magic marker she drew a robotic looking face and torso of a beautiful woman with her inner tubes and pistons exposed. Her boyfriend held the ladder like a gentleman. She worked with quick deliberateness. Then just as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.

Later as I was packing up to go home, Rodney looked at the sketch and said, “I’m glad you caught her. She came out of nowhere, like Bat Girl!” We laughed. “She had some mad skills” he added.

Post script:

The artist scaling the ladder was Morgan Wilson. I had seen her work one other time when Sam Flax was having artists paint murals on the side of the new store. The mural depicted here was later white washed when new owners bought the building.

Faith Arts Village

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Faith Arts Village (221 East Colonial Drive) is a ministry of Park Lake Presbyterian Church that provides a place where the faith community and local artists can work together to share their gifts of inspiration, beauty, and spiritual expression to promote peace, understanding, and well-being in the larger community. As a ‘village’ it will emphasize the activity and integration of many constituents: local artists, church members, community patrons, schools, and civic groups. Faith Arts Village Orlando may include:

* Studio space for artists

* Green and exhibit space for community gatherings

* Meeting and classroom space

* Gallery space

* Open air markets

* Outdoor performance space

* Cafe space for refreshments

* Possible future residential space for designated guests

* Teaching art as an expression of faith

When I arrived it was dusk and the old motel loomed dark before me. Its dark iron gates made it resemble the Bates motel on the deserted side of the motel I approached from. I heard music however and then the hum of a food trucks gas generator. In the parking lot behind the motel there were folding tables and chairs set up. The ground floor motel rooms glowed warmly. I walked into the various rooms to inspect the arts and crafts. I spoke with one artist and she told me that rent for one of these studio spaces would be $300 a month. Considering she wasn’t selling much work, that price would be too steep for her. Donations were accepted for Second Harvest Food Bank.

At work Larry Loria told me about the Torpedo Factory in Alexandria Virginia. There, an old factory was converted into artists studios. Artists were only charged $50 a month, so they only needed to sell one piece of art to cover the rent. That project revitalized the historic district and now it is an expensive and exclusive neighborhood. I wondered if Faith Arts Village could do the same thing. It is located just a few blocks away from an intersection where I always see people with cardboard signs begging for money from cars at the stop light.

In another room, Mary Hill was helping children paint picture frames with bright tempera paint. I love watching kids paint. They have no preconceptions and they work with raw abandon. Mary rushed to fill cups with paint. One boy asked for gold and she was pleased to find she actually had gold paint. I leaned forward and dipped my brush into some of the bright pink paint. A little blond girl looked at me with a touch of anger, her lips pouting. “Mine!” she said. He mom coached her that it was polite to share. Will Benton, the executive director of the village welcomed me warmly. He asked me to paint something on his T-Shirt. An infinity symbol was already painted, so I added a fish symbol with a single brush stroke.

The Village seemed to have more of a flavor of a family friendly crafts fair rather than a serious place to create art. But of course that might change as the place grows and as artists start using the studios. The motel is still being refurbished and all the artists were only there for the duration of the event that night. This could be the seed of something Orlando desperately needs, a true arts district. The event was part of the monthly “Third Thursdays” downtown gallery hop but the motel is so far from downtown that it was invariably isolated from that event. As I left, a father asked if I would show his son a sketchbook. The boy was delighted flipping the pages like he was devouring a comic book. A new urban sketcher might have been born that night.

Gay Pride 2.0

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The Gay Pride Parade had been rained out a month ago, so this was a second attempt to celebrate tolerance, equality, and diversity in the City Beautiful. I went down to Lake Eola to sketch the preparations for the Gay Pride Parade and Terry came down when the sketch was done. I parked on Cathcart Avenue a fair distance from the celebration. Walking down Cathcart I ran across these Wells Fargo horses and knew I had to sketch. The old stage coach was just being lowered out of the 18 wheeler when I arrived. Then the horses were walked out and they happily munched on the grass. Every yellow wooden spoke on the wheels was polished by a cowboy. Music began to pulse behind me and I texted Terry to let her know I was done with the sketch.

A young girl help a half inflated balloon on her chest and she squeezed it saying, “My booby balloon is sad.” Rainbow colors were splashed everywhere. There was a phalanx of scooters with pink ribbons tied to the handle bars. Macy’s had a giant red star in the parade, just like they have in the Thanksgiving parade in NYC. Disney was out in force with voluntEARS helping, and rainbow Mickey Mouse bobs being thrown out to the crowd.

With a series of texts, I found Terry and we found a spot curbside to watch the parade. Churches were out in force in the parade. The First Unitarian pointed out that this is what Jesus had to say about homosexuality, “Zip. Zilch. Nada.” What he did promote was justice, equality and compassion. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence marched by with their colorful makeup and habits billowing in the breeze. People shouted “Hey hey, ho ho, Homophobia has to go!

Candy and bead necklaces were thrown into the crowd. Terry did an amazing job of catching most of the loot. She caught some condoms. I saved all the fliers, sure that they offered hints to future sketching opportunities. Tiny beach balls bounced into the crowd. A Labrador retriever across from us bit a beach ball and ripped it apart. Loud motorcycles roared by. Eliot and Fern rode together in a convertible. They have been together 48 years.

Thanksgiving

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For Thanksgiving, Terry and I drove down to Port Charlotte to visit my sister Pat Boehme. The two hour drive was surprisingly care free. Terry slept most of the way down as I drove. We were surprised we didn’t hit traffic around Disney or near Tampa. Zorro, our umbrella cockatoo, made the trip as well, hanging upside down from the bars in his travel cage most of the way. When we arrived, Pat told us that the turkey was ready. She had prepared a delicious traditional feast. I love those crunchy bits she puts on top of the green beans. After several servings of turkey and stuffing, we all started to slow down.

I did dishes while Mike Napolitano showed Terry some of the new plants in the backyard. Then we all retired to the living room. Mike watched football games on TV. Terry reclined on the couch opposite me and drifted off in a tryptophan induced sleep. Zorro was happy as he could be perched on her knee.

The road Pat and Mike live on is going to soon be expanded with a traffic circle added to the corner they live on. When all the construction is done, their little slice of tropical paradise will have been decimated. Most of their side and front yard will be gone and the drainage ditch will be right next to the house like a medieval mote. They are afraid that the homes foundation might be compromised. They had hoped the town or county might buy the property so they could afford to move, but no offer has been made. An Orlando lawyer is now involved on the case.

2D Animation

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Last month we had a husband and wife learning animation together in the front row. They gave their all and produced some stunning animation. In general the whole class was full of aspiring animators and there was friendly competition to come up with original and inspired ideas. I’m starting to get used to drawing on the tablet. I just need to put the lines down quicker letting them slide over the glass. With my water color sketches, I have a very limited palette. Suddenly on the tablet I have millions of color choices. That alone causes me to slow down.

I am now at Art Basel Miami Beach and I realize that I can’t yet scan the drawings I have been doing. I just searched the hard drive to pull up this digital sketch. I’m considering bringing the tablet out to sketch today. We were walking all day yesterday from 11am to well past midnight and I know I only saw a fraction of the art. I don’t like the notion of carrying it around after the battery dies however. A sketchbook that dies after several sketches is a pain. Yesterday I did four sketches. The tablet would die after two sketches.

Storytelling Drawings

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In the 2D Animation Lab at Full Sail, students returning from the lunch break are asked to do a storytelling drawing. They are given a theme and asked to do some thumbnail drawings and pick one idea to execute. The drawings aren’t supposed to be highly rendered works of art, but rather simple, playful ideas. Sample suggestions include, standing in line, waiting for an elevator and moving something heavy. At the end of the 10 classes there are six or seven examples from each student and the best three are graded.

Pirates of the Caribbean had just come out in movie theaters. Larry Lauria came up with a new theme called “Pie Rats of the Caribbean.” Dan Riebold likes to tackle each storytelling himself on the white board. His whimsical sketches help inspire and challenge the students. Often there is a movie screen which he works behind like the Wizard in the “Wizard of Oz.” Dan was drawing a rat which had just been punched by a slice of pie. The vicious pie had not been sketched yet. Larry likes to do small sketches as well. When the students were finished, they were asked to tape it up on the white board. Of the ten to twenty students it is always fun to see all the different ideas that students generate.

Britt Daley Music Video Released!

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I did a series of sketches the day Britt Daley’s music video was being shot in the Orlando Repertory Theater. Since that day, Scott Wilkins, the writer and director, has been working feverishly at an editing bay to polish the final cut. This video was shot gorilla style in one day featured the talents of some amazing local performers who volunteered to create some fun lighthearted magic.

Britt invited cast and crew to her parents home for a special advanced screening. People brought side dishes and Britt’s dad lit the grill for a barbecue. Terry and I arrived first and Britt showed us her private recording space in a room beside the garage. As more people arrived, they hung around the kitchen counter before retiring to the screened in porch. Scott arrived later and when he tried plugging in the hard drive, it didn’t work. It was assumed that the adapter on the hard drive was broken so he rushed out to see if he could find a replacement at a Radio Shack.

The food was served, and periodically Britt got a call from Scott who was having no luck finding an adapter. He eventually returned, annoyed and defeated. After dinner Britt pulled out her laptop which had a very early edit. Scott explained how he intended to multiply shots and he was embarrassed that a more polished edit wasn’t available. We also watched a blooper reel with silly outtakes. There was plenty of laughter. The next week it was discovered that a breaker had burnt out in the Daley residence. The adapter was fine, they just needed to find a working wall outlet.

Now all the blood sweat and tears has paid off as the final edit is now going viral on You Tube. Enjoy the latest from Orlando’s own electro-pop goddess!

The Drop Cloth

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A refreshing breeze blew through the barn. A drop cloth was nailed to the rafters. The steam rising from the boiling cauldron full of sugar cane juice, had to be protected. They didn’t want it to cool too quickly. There were Krispy Cream donuts on the table. It’s a shame I wasn’t hungry. The man seated next to me was a virtuoso with a fly swatter. He killed every fly that landed anywhere near him. I feared that if a fly landed on my sketch, he would react, and with a flick of the wrist, leave a bloody mess on the sketch. I occasionally waved a fly away from my face. Glass cups and boxes were repositioned on the table to widen the killing field.

I was offered some boiled peanuts which I never tried before. They were wet, salty and delicious. The next time I see a boiled peanut stand on the side of the road, I am stopping. Orange County Sheriff Justin Barley drove up in his patrol car. He introduced himself to everyone in the room and then there was a lively conversation about petty crimes in the area. More sheriffs arrived. I think they came for the food.

Patrick Greene’s mom started putting out a lunchtime spread. There was a mound of crispy fried fish, the tails still intact. There were cornbread nuggets also fried, and a beef stew that was thick with Lima beans, thick cuts of meat, and an oily sheen. I waited till all the helpers had served themselves and then I tried a little of everything. I kept sketching as I ate. A hound dog curled up on a rusty bed spring behind me. Chickens were clucking in a coup. Distracted, I mistook their clucks for the sounds of children in a playground.

Several of the men started checking out the sketch. The fellow with the grizzly black beard asked, “How long you been in Florida?” I knew where this line of questioning was leading. I said, “Over twenty years”, perhaps stretching the truth a bit. “Well,” he said, “Not a bad sketch considering you’re a Yankee.” The man across from me commiserated. “I’ve been here 49 years and they still consider me a Yankee!” We laughed.

When I had to leave to get to class, I shook the hand of Patrick’s step dad. I hadn’t been introduced yet, but I suspected that this stoic man was in charge. His face glistened as he stood beside the cauldron, the steam wafting in front of his face. Patrick explained that the steam from the cane syrup actually leaves a sweet crust over everything it touches. A rural Midas Touch.