Creative Engineering

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Brad Kuhn first introduced me to Creative Engineering. The ramshackle warehouse is located just north of the bustling night club scene downtown. I parked in the loading dock area and got this sketch as I waited for Brad, his daughter Meschelle, and Darlyn Finch to arrive. When we knocked on the front door, the sun had set and it was starting to get dark. Aaron Fechter answered. A albino doberman pincher named Athena, was barking and snarling, but once Aaron pointed out that we were friends, the dog calmed down checking for scents on our shoes.

The entry showed promise since there were half painted set pieces lying around and sculptural forms receded back into the darkness of the factory. For the next hour or so Aaron took us on a tour of the facility. He had us step into an old freight elevator and warned us to watch where we stepped since some of the floor boards were not so sturdy. The lift loudly groaned as we rose up. I could see the drop below us through the crack between the floor planks and there was no ceiling to the lift so I could look up at the cables that vibrated and strained.

We later stopped at a whack-a-mole play station. It turns out that Aaron had invented whack-a-mole but the concept was stolen from him by some carnie. The moles in the game we stood near had Osama Bin Laden, Hitler and other despots as the moles. That idea never took off. By now he was using a flashlight to show us around. Mysterious dark forms would flash brightly for a moment then disappear into the darkness.

Aaron said he had to turn on an air compressor. He disappeared and we stood in the darkness waiting. Moonlight now filtered through the factory windows faintly illuminating the space. I heard the compressor fire up with a hiss and then I adjusted my eyes and saw the dark forms on the sidelines start to twitch to life. They moved with an awkward mechanical quality but the one closest to me shifted its gaze and stared right at me. It’s head turned, the fur bristled, and it’s eyelid raised with curiosity. Dust rose when they shook their arms and the cloud filtered our view. We were surrounded by animatronics each of them moving and stretching perhaps for the first time in thirty years…

No Dosa for You!

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Brian Feldman staged a project inspired by Taco Truck Taste Test called “Dosa Vu.” It took place at the Apna Bazaar supermarket which is located who knows where, someplace way south on OBT. Around the same time, Dina Peterson was showing a friend of hers from Boston named Ian the Parliament House Sunday Piano Bar. I stopped into the bar but the place was pretty quiet and Dina and her friend hadn’t arrived yet. I texted her to let her know I was going to try and get a quick sketch at Brian’s event.

The Indian supermarket was impossible to find. Nestled between car dealerships, the place was set far back from the road and building numbers were impossible to see. I drove in circles and got to the place about half an hour late. I thought Brian had said it was inside an indoor flea market. I wandered the aisles of the flea market looking for Brian. There was a booth of used furniture, a booth of pillows and a huge assortment of brick-a-brack at bargain prices. There must have been 50 booths but no Indian food. Outside, I looked at the event page again on my iPhone and it said the dosa dealer was in a store NEXT to the flea market. UGH! I rounded the corner and there was Brian, his girlfriend Sultana and Angela Abrusci.

Sultana introduced me to Joe inside and ordered a dosa for me. Joe stood in front of a cabinet case full of colorful shampoos and soaps. As he prepared my food, I sat down and started sketching. The food was finished before my sketch and Brian took it to the small table outside. There was a steady stream of customers. One man walked up to Joe and started whispering to him. Later the same man stood in front of me and started asking questions. “What are you doing?” I thought to myself, “Here we go again,” and said with a smile, “I’m sketching.” “What kind of art is that?,” he asked. I turned the sketchbook around to show him the sketch and and rattled on about illustrative journalism. He frowned at the unfinished sketch. He wasn’t impressed. “Did you ask permission?” he asked. I though, “If I asked permission every time I wanted to sketch, I would never accomplish anything.” What I said was, “Who should I ask?” He explained that the store was private property. We continued this power struggle for some time, as I kept looking at the details behind him and sketching. I thanked him for his interest and rushed to finish the sketch before he called the police.

With the hasty sketch finished I went outside to find Brian and his entourage. They were gone. The much anticipated dosa was gone. I suddenly felt very hungry, but didn’t feel welcome back inside so I left. I drove back to the Parliament House where Dina gave me half of her sandwich from lunch. Dina and I sang Jimmy Buffet’s “Margaritaville” together into a diamond studded microphone and the crowd joined along swaying with the chorus. Now the place was packed. Later we all sang “Oh Happy Day” with our hands raised as we danced. I felt the warmth and fellowship of being among friends. Where I felt misunderstood, I now felt accepted. The dosa was forgotten.

Dead Men Chase no Tail

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I decided to go to Austin’s Coffee (929 W. Fairbanks Avenue) to join “Sketchy Broads” for an evening of sketching. It was pouring on my drive over from work. All day there had been tornado warnings across Central Florida. I made sure my sketch books were in plastic bags and then I sprinted through the parking lot to the back door. I ordered a Yak which is a frozen coffee with caramel and chocolate. Sean Moore, Austin’s owner and coffee expert, told me he had peaked over my shoulder the last time I had stopped in for a sip and a sketch. He liked what I was working on and invited me to exhibit my work on the coffee shop walls. I always get nervous when my sketchbooks leave my studio but I might take him up on the offer.

While I was waiting for my drink, Orit Reuben introduced herself. She was there to sketch as well. We both had arrived early and both of us were attending the Austin’s sketch event for the first time. Sean let us know he would be moving furniture off the front stage area to get things ready. I joined Orit when she started moving chairs. Sean and I moved the Victorian looking purple couch onto the stage as a prop. Soon the models, Jenny Coyle and Lindsay Boswell, arrived. They had a hamper full of pirate costuming and props. When Jenny pulled out an old bottle of rum, an artist remarked, “That’s no prop, she goes everywhere with that tharr bottle!” Everyone laughed.

As artists arrived, I added them to my sketch. I did some of the fast poses but then erased them and waited to add the pirates when they took longer poses. Orit had a concerned look on her face when she sketched. She had a large 18 by 24 pad for doing pastels but I think she needed an easel. Another artist arrived with a mini easel and he told her where she could pick one up. He did some very detailed pencil renderings of the pirates faces. I have just the one sketch to show for the evenings modeling session. As I left, I bumped into Swami Worldtraveler and he let me know about the weekly jazz sessions at Austin’s every Thursday night starting at 9pm. Sounds like I have to come back for another sketch!

Reading Between the Wines

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Reading between the Wines was a fundraiser for the Adult Literacy League. Sponsored by Bank of America, it was held at the Sheraton Hotel downtown across from the Bob Carr Theater. When I arrived I was given a program and a wine glass. I didn’t have time to sample the wines but I placed the wine glass in a pocket of my folding stool just in case. Terry was there chatting with a client. We immediately went to a small private meeting room where Bank of America guests were given a chance to meet and greet Carl Hiaasen.

Carl was born and raised in Florida. He began his writing career as a journalist for the Miami Herald before writing his first book, “Tourist Season” in 1986. Carl’s books highlight the many problems faced in Florida thanks to over development. I’ve read two of his books, “Stormy Weather” and “Basket Case” and they were both hilarious.

Chairs in the meeting room were arranged in groupings of six. It made it seem like there might be group assignments where we had to collaborate and write. I decided to sit on my own over by the cheese and cracker table. Carl spoke to the group directly in front of me for quite some time. Then he sat down for a quick book signing. Everyone lined up. The ten or so people in the room had each been given a copy of Carl’s most recent book, “Star Island.” I’ll read it once Terry is finished. She loves Carl’s books and happily posed for photos with him.

I started the sketch in the large hall before the audience filed in. Robyn Austin from WLOQ was the Emcee. She announced as different silent auction tables were closed out with a resonating gong. Joyce Whidden, the executive director of the Adult Literacy League, introduced a short film about what they do. Basically one in five people read at or below a sixth grade level. In Florida that number is even larger. Literacy has the power to reduce crime, unemployment and dependence on welfare. When the film stopped everyone in the room, several hundred people, stood and clapped. It was a heart warming moment that offered the hope that people do care. Perlis, the man who learned to read at the age of 42, was in the audience.

Carl Hiaasen was then interviewed by fellow journalist Bob Morris. Carl pointed out that writing and rewriting his work came easy to him because of the years writing articles for the Herald. He had deadlines for the paper and he would write even if he didn’t feel like it. In the question and answer session, Terry asked why the women in his books are so much more mature than the male characters. He explained that men are rather simple creatures that usually just want one thing. The audience laughed. Carl often incorporated real life events into his books. He had found that real life stories are often too bizarre to be believed as fiction. As an example, he pointed to a horrible car accident where a mans leg was severed off. The leg was forgotten. An EMT later found it and decided to feed it to his dog. This is far to sick to be believed.

Blowin’ Broadway

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I decided to go the dinner cabaret show titled, “Blowin’ Broadway” that is put on every Monday at Mr. Sisters (5310 East Colonial Drive near 436). The place is right near where I work. I was a little intimidated by the bright pink modern building. It is right on Lake Barton and the setting sun was painting the horizon orange. There was a bright pink zebra rug at the entrance. I asked where the performance would take place and I was pointed towards the stage with a chain link fence behind it and a pink zebra named Higgins poised in the corner. The place was empty for now but I wanted to start the sketch getting the background in position. The best view was from a bar stool right next to the piano. The bar stool wobbled a bit and the foot support didn’t move. This was going to be like sketching while balancing on a pogo stick, but I ordered a Carona with lime and got to work. Where I sat turned out to be a major traffic area for the sexy waitresses who brought out drink and food orders. A pleasant distraction.

Andrea Canny walked in just as I started sketching. I recognized her from the half page ad in the Orlando Weekly which had caught my eye. I politely asked if she was performing. She organizes the weekly cabaret bringing in new talent each week while also singing a show tune or two herself. I was surprised that she knew of my work. I later found out she is an artist and photographer herself. Soon there was a group of performers gathered. They began to rehearse with John DeHaas on piano.

Brenda Hamilton who is in Broadway Across America’s “Wicked” was the first to rehearse. I sketched Brenda in position as she rehearsed then added color much later when she performed. She had her own pianist named Spencer Jones. John DeHaas was behind the piano for everyone else so he ended up in my sketch. After the rehearsal the place quickly filled up. I love a good show tune, so I enjoyed every performance. There are two performances between 7 and 10pm but with my sketch finished I decided to head home.

Degas Sculptures at Tampa Museum of Art

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Chere Force put out an invitation for artists to join her on a field trip to see the Degas Sculptures at the Tampa Museum of Art. I knew I would want to sketch, and I considered bringing my digital tablet. I left it at home since I didn’t want to catch a guards’ attention. Chere and her husband Rory picked me up in their minivan and we headed west to get to the museum right as it opened. The Tampa Museum is part of a gorgeous riverside complex. There were several school buses of school children unloading as we arrived. Thankfully there is a children’s museum that the screaming hoard disappeared into. Curtis Hixon Park right next to the museum is a fabulous open public park with colorful terraced gardens. Across the river shiny metallic minarets adorned a building constructed in the 1800s as a hotel and it is now part of the University of Tampa.

The Museum is a modern block of a building that is covered in a grid of circular holes punched in sheet metal. At night the building lights up like a phosphorescent sea creature thanks to thousands of light diodes. The largely empty ground floor houses the gift shop and cafe while all the art is up on the second floor. Chere explained that design allowed for any storm surge from a hurricane to only damage the empty ground floor.

I branched off and explored the Degas sculptures on my own. On the walls there were some charcoal and pastel drawings that resembled poses from some of the sculptures. Degas worked on these small wax and clay pieces to help him visualize the fluid gestures he incorporated into his paintings and drawings. They were intended as studies, not finished works of art. When Degas died, his family arranged for 22 sets of bronzes to be made from all these studies while keeping the originals intact. All of the works in the exhibit were bronzes. Cards on the walls described how Degas was influenced by the classic sculptures he studied for three years in Rome and Florence.

Once I saw all the sculptures I started to experience the gestural work by sketching. Something about the way he explored form started to make sense to me. As my lines danced in around and through his sculptures, I started seeing the viewers looking at the art in the same light. The Little Dancer stood vigil in the middle of the room. Having the opportunity to study his art in person was inspiring. As I was finishing up my sketch a museum guard approached me. He asked what medium I was using. My stomach tightened and I said, “watercolor.” Thinking to myself, “It is harmless, really, it washes right out with water!” He said, “You can only use a pencil to sketch in here.” I didn’t argue. I just put my little kit away. I imagined the young Degas sketching sculptures in Italy and being told to stop.

In the next room was modern art. In the center of the gallery was an installation that had two windows set up in a false wall. Between and inside the windows rain was pouring down with the occasional lightning flash, and the recorded rumbling of thunder. I had to wonder if it just might leak, potentially damaging the other art in the room. It was pretty far from the Degas bronzes. They were safe from any further artistic scrutiny.

Edward James Olmos

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Alan Arkin was slated to appear at the Florida Film Festival along with a screening of “The Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming!” This is one of Terry’s favorite films so she bought a ticket early. He was in a minor car accident which caused some damage to his inner ear so he was unable to fly.

Edward James Olmos stepped in along with a screening of “Stand and Deliver.” I arrived early and a staff member was just changing the marquee sign. The long pole had a suction cup at the end along with a string which, when pulled must have created the suction. Letters stacked on the ground were lifted up one at a time and slipped into the slots, a very analog setup.

I knew the event was sold out so I was nervous that I wouldn’t get in the theater. Just as I finished my sketch, the long line of people started filing into the theater. I went into the lobby with the other press and volunteers who were on stand by. As I waited, Edward entered the lobby. He warmly shook my hand and said how happy he was to be seeing the film again on the large screen.

“Stand and Deliver” was an independent film that was an instant and lasting success. It inspired and offered the hope that teachers can truly make a difference in their students lives. It offered the reassuring promise that if you believe in and trust those you teach, they become trustworthy.

After the film he sat down with Henry Maldonado for an informal interview. When Edward got on the stage, he asked the audience, “Are there any teachers out there?” I raised my hand as did a number of people in the room. He said, “You all should be making a million dollars a year.” People cheered. He went on to point out that the private education system isn’t working in our country. He felt a strong country should have a strong education system.

When discussing his time on “Miami Vice” he was completely honest, saying he didn’t like Don Johnson and he didn’t once look at the actor when filming the series. Olmos didn’t like to sign contracts that were exclusive, not allowing him to pursue independent films. He hated every minute he spent on that tv series and yet that contentious attitude resulted in his becoming a character the TV viewing audience loved to hate.

Speaking about “Stand and Deliver”, Olmos said he spent many hours with the teacher, Jaime Escalante, and he was struck by what an amazing man he was. He expanded the math program he started so he could take on more students. Escalante was visited by presidents and diplomats. His success over time was resented by the other teachers who felt they did not get the recognition they deserved. Because of these jelovsies he eventually had to leave the school and the students he loved. When he was on his death bed he told his wife that he wanted the names of his students placed with him in the casket.

In “Blade Runner” Olmos was the one who was making origami figures while on set, and that idea was incorporated into the film. When he was hired as Admiral Adama for “Battle Star Galactica, he at first didn’t want to take the role. He had never seen the original TV series and he didn’t want to be part of some cheesy science fiction show. After reading the script however he knew this was a project he had to be a part of. Written after 9/11 the scripts were dark and penetrating. At the time the show was written, blogs became prevalent for the first time. After a show aired, there would be a dynamic ongoing online discussion. The writers listened and commented themselves. Thus blogs helped generate new ideas.

His relationship with President Laura Rosling was a bitter contentious power struggle yet transformed into love. The shows theme of redemption and forgiveness resulted in his being invited to speak in the United Nations. The most important message he offered, expressed there and at the Enzian, was that there is no Latino race, there is no Caucasian race, there is no such thing as race as a cultural determinant. There is only one race and that is the human race. When Olmos got up to leave the Enzian stage he turned to the audience and shouted, “So say we all!” He shouted again and again till the whole audience joined in.

A Whole New Brawl Game

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I went to the Universal Skating Center, (866 South Goldenrod) to see the final Orlando Psycho City Derby Girls bouts of the season. I figured this was a prime sketching opportunity since the teams would be more likely to skate all out for their final brawl. When I entered the building I was given a wrist band with skulls on it and was told I had to wait for a minute before going out to the rink. Electrical lines and the course oval were still being duct taped down. I found myself waiting in the skaters’ locker room and they were waiting as well as they laced up their skates. I desperately wanted to sketch but then the buzzer sounded and all the skaters whipped around the rink to warm up.

I walked out to the opening in the rink wall where referees were lacing up their skates. The referees were just as beautiful and quirky as the skaters, with names like Scare, Vanilla Ice Pack and Anya Knees. The first bout matched up the Bellevue Bombshells against the Arkham Assailants. As soon as the magenta and day glow green shirted skaters got on the rink, four went down in a mini brawl before they even started skating. There are rules but quite honestly I don’t understand them. Basically one skater sets the pace and points are gained when another skater passes the skaters on the other team. There is plenty of body blocking and maneuvering. The announcer shouted out, “Malice in Wonderland is being followed by Cinder block!” Derby involves short spurts of fast paced action. I often watched the action and then sketched as the teams lined up for the next go around. The Arkham Assailants prevailed.

After the match, Ellen Rage lay on her back, a teammate held her head in her lap while another teammate held her hand. A referee waved a large score card to try and cool her down. She must have been suffering from heat exhaustion. She was given a bottle of water to sip. A good ten minutes passed before she could get up and with help, get off the rink. The crowd clapped when she got up. The girls were indeed skating all out.

The second bout was between the Serial Thrillers, all in black and the Sunnyland Slammers in baby blue. I moved to the sidelines behind the Serial Thrillers bench. Anita Priest with a black rose adorning her jet black banged hair coached the Serial Thrillers. Her number was 666. I began this sketch by sketching the sexy referee in the center of the rink who held a stop watch. The longest a single skating match could last was 50 seconds. Anya Knees stood with her toe pointed ballet style as she rested her weight on one skate. I really think Degas would have enjoyed sketching roller derby.

Coach Anita Priest shouted and made the hand signal for time out! Anya Knees didn’t notice so she ran up to the referee indignant and furious. There was plenty of bumpin’ and grindin’ as the skaters jockeyed for position. At top speed, if one girl was bumped and fell, then others would go down with her. The Serial Thrillers won. Pistol Whip, Nobody’s Hero, and all the women in black, formed a circle and shouted in victory. Orlando Psycho City Derby Girls are gaining momentum and are here to stay! Like artists, these girls skate for the sheer love of the sport and the roar of the crowd.

iDignity Fundraiser at Ember

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Terry told me about the iDignity fundraiser at Ember. Admission to the fundraising event was $15 which is apparently how much it costs to acquire one Florida ID. I was instructed to slip my drivers license into the lanyard I was given to wear around my neck. Everyone in the room wore their IDs with pride. I sport a full head of hair on my drivers license photo but no one noticed. I found Terry at the end of the bar. She was working the event hoping to find some promising leads. I took the seat next to her and started to sketch.

I had been introduced to the charitable work of iDinity once before by Hannah Miller. They get IDs for the underprivileged. Without an ID it is impossible to get a job so this is the first step in empowering someone. I have seen that crowds of people show up when the IDs are being processed. I hope to get out to sketch the process soon.

The woman next to Terry was talking about how she had once tried out to be a Magic dancer. She didn’t approve of the process and she dropped out. The Magic were playing the New York Knicks that night. It was a home game, so there was a crowd at the Amway Center a few blocks away. After a beer and tasting the food, Terry and I decided to leave early to avoid the mad traffic congestion that would happen when the game let out.

Animated Shorts

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Each year, I have to see the animated shorts at the Florida Film Festival. This year Bill Plimpton had a display of artwork from around the world used in his Global Jam. He invited artists to each tackle a scene in their own style from his Academy Award winning film Guard Dog. The invitation went out via the Internet. Bill waited an hour, no response. He waited another hour with no response. He went home depressed. The next day he was told that too many artists responded causing the server to go down. The resulting film was hilarious being even quirkier with all the different looks. Bill said the film cost him $20 to produce with animators around the world volunteering their time.

Anyway, the Animated Shorts screening was sold out. The line stretched back as far as I could see. There was a chance I might not get in, but house manager, Brian Feldman, stepped in and made sure I got a ticket. I found a seat in the very first row. Brian joked and said I should sit on the stage and sketch the audience. I was tempted but really wanted to see some animation. I leaned back and let the screen filled up every inch of my glasses. Tales of Mere Existence by Lev Yilmaz is always in the lineup and is always funny. This year he talked aimlessly about how he had imagined relationships with women in the Ukraine via Facebook. There were a few artsy shorts with no apparent story. I always get annoyed at these aimless films.

My favorite film of the night was “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore“. Though it could use a shorter title, the film is magical. It basically stresses how books offer refuge bringing color and life into people’s lives. The main character was modeled after Buster Keaton. One of the co-directors daughter died, and his wife became paralyzed during production of the film. Moonbot the new studio that made the film is located in Louisiana, so when Hurricane Katrina hit, it ended up becoming a major part of the story. There is something very sad about seeing peoples books in among the rubble of destruction. Several of the story and visual development artists were originally from Orlando but unfortunately I didn’t know them. They asked if anyone in the audience worked at Disney Feature Animation. I started to raise my hand but stopped halfway up thinking “well, not anymore.” Seeing no hands he said, “Damn Michael Eisner.”