Shut Up & Play Instrumental Music Festival

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Shut Up & Play was an all day music festival held at 11/12 Lounge (843 Lee Road Orlando). There were three stages with music being performed non-stop. As one group broke down their equipment on one stage musicians would be set up and ready to go at the stage on the opposite end of the room. People seated in the center of the room only had to rotate their chairs. The first performer I saw was Dominic Gaudious who had an amazing branching Didgeridoo which had a deep mesmerizing tone that complimented his guitar playing. I had seen him perform once before at Downtown Disney. Bruce Bentner was the artist on stage. He used a projector to transfer the Shut Up & play poster onto canvas. He used black light paints to give the painting some added punch.

Lindy Romez, a fabulous trumpet player was seated right in front of me as I sketched. She and her Sol Y Mar band jumped on the stage once Dominic was finished with his performance. I had sketched Lindy Romez & Sol Y Mar once before at the White House.

Across the room Decoy Beat performed. Jeremy Birdsall who organized the whole event was on guitar. Jeremy was a consummate performer, arching his body to the flow of the music. He was fun to sketch. When he introduced the group he thanked his wife Lynn Halter Birdsall who had worked so hard to make the event possible. There was plenty of applause. I glanced over at Lynn who was busy getting a band checked in. Lynn had given me a slick Shut Up and Play lanyard that proudly announced that I was an artist. It was such an awesome design that I wouldn’t mind wearing it all the time. If anyone were to ask if I were an artist, I could just point to the lanyard. Come to think of it, mo one ever asked if I was an artist at this event.

Dawn Schreiner was the artist hard at work as Decoy Beat played. She finished a quick portrait she had started of Martin Luthar King by adding radiating lines around his head. Then she started a whimsical piece with a turn of the century couple and birds. I loved the way she boldly drew in the faces with a brush. Her lines danced.

Tranquility Garden

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I read that there was going to be an open house celebration for a new cremation garden complete with free family portraits. I drove to Oaklawn Park Cemetery to sketch the festivities. Part of me hoped there would be lines of zombie families waiting to have their decaying corpses photographed. I drove into the cemetery searching for the “Tranquility Garden.” I found a “Garden of Eternity” but no tranquility. I figured I might be in the wrong cemetery so I pulled back onto CR46-A and started driving. That is when I noticed the Baldwin-Fairchild Funeral Home across the street. I did a u-turn and pulled in the parking lot. Two hearses and a limo were parked in the car port. I was greeted at the front door by a very old gentleman in a black suit. There were a dozen people dressed in black in the entryway. When I asked to see “Tranquility Garden” I was introduced to Ed Johnson.

Ed walked me past the room where the free family portraits were being taken. I asked how many people they were expecting to photograph and he estimated 300 people would show up. We walked through offices, a kitchenette and a break room before going outside to hop on a golf cart. He drove me back into the cemetery and we stopped near a beautiful fountain. Behind every gray tile on the fountain there was a cavity for cremated remains. There was a row of small grass plots for interments. Several plots had large granite headstones. A huge dark granite rocking chair could hold a couple’s ashes in two square canisters at the base of the chair. No, the chair did not rock.

A staircase followed a nice flowing waterway they added to the landscape. There was a putting green set up and a sculpture of a golf bag was there to house a happy golfer’s remains. There was a scoreboard to keep track of the eternal game. There was a fish sculpture for a fisherman and a chess piece for a chess master. There was an area dedicated to war veterans, with simple stone monoliths where individuals would each have their own tile. There was a wishing well where it would be possible to have your ashes co-mingled with other peoples ashes. Perhaps in this age of social networks that is an attractive sales point.

I told Ed I would like to do a sketch. He seemed perplexed. As I worked a black sedan pulled up next to me and the two men inside watched me intently. They must have been sent to make sure I wasn’t a vandal. I sketched faster thinking I might be asked to leave. It started to rain. I ran up to a gazebo and continued to add water color washes there. When it stopped raining I returned to my original spot to finish the sketch. On a distant hill the Virgin Mary held her hands open in supplication. The sun blasted through the clouds baking my black wet shirt.

DJ Big Makk

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The closest place to grab a bite near “Stick Em’ Up” was a MacDonalds. Starving, I had eaten a Big Mac for the first time in years. The taste lingered all night. I found it ironic that the DJ was known as Big Makk. I was fascinated by his small features nestled in the open expanse of his face. His small hands gracefully worked the knobs, dials, digital turntable and Makk computer. He played a combination of hip hop and rap. Several mics allowed people to shout out their own rap. The mics didn’t work very well and they were abandoned.

I sat at a central table where people were making their own stickers using colorful markers. Most stickers looked like graffiti from a NYC subway. It was suggested that I make a sticker but I’m not sure my sketches are appropriate to be stuck. Maisy wanted to get some Monster stickers but the $10 price tag seemed steep. She was asking just $1 for her radioactive snail stickers. I liked the large JR Tolkenish Ent painting on the wall next to the DJ. Smoke billowed out of the tree’s nostrils and it cradled a flame in its knobby fingers.

Gallery at Avalon Island

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On the Third Thursday of every month the downtown galleries have openings for new art on display. I tried to sketch the gorgeous architecture of the Gallery at Avalon Island once before but it was winter and I couldn’t finish the drawing with my cold hands. The green building is covered with intricate metalwork. The Rogers building was built in 1886 by architect William Mullins. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1983.

As I sketched the sun slipped to the horizon creating a golden glow. When I finished I went inside to look at the art. On display were photo real paintings by Doug Bloodworth. Many of the slick glossy paintings were done with airbrush. Classic black and white movies seemed to be the predominant theme. If I had a home theater I wanted to decorate, then I suppose they would do the trick.

Terry Olson saw me working and said hello. He was off to see the Red Chairs which were being displayed in City Arts Factory. I had watched Genevieve Bernard as she decorated the Mennello Museum Red Chair with hundreds of red and gold buttons. There was a bustling crowd inspecting red chairs which were decorated by each of the arts organizations in town. Terry wanted me to join her for an Orlando Philharmonic event so I didn’t stick around to do another sketch. I quickly glanced at the artwork at Blank Space as I walked back to my truck.

Stick Em’ Up

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The Stick Em’ Up event was going to happen at the Cameo Theater, but the Cameo was shut down due to fire code violations. The event was moved to an urban warehouse on John Young Parkway just south of Lee Road. The warehouse is used as a graffiti sweat shop. In the front room rows of spray paint cans were for sale. A robot designed by an infamous NYC graffiti artist named Chico was on display. In the back of the warehouse preparations were underway for a mad party. The large loading dock door was rolled open. The walls were painted black while some old graffiti peaked out above the darkness. In the corner of the room this couple lay comatose in the 69 position. Noel, a hug bear of a man, said, “I just threw them in the corner. That is how they happened to fall.” I didn’t know if I should believe him. Since I had arrived early, I couldn’t resist sketching the couple. They are sculpted from found objects. For instance the women’s pants are sofa cushions.

The bright magenta and yellow painting above the couple spells out something. I recruited several other people to try and read it for me but no one could. Other colorful urban art covered the walls. After the sketch was done, I drove up the street to a MacDonald’s to get something to eat. I ordered a big Mac and fries but I didn’t super size the meal. I rushed back to the warehouse just as it started to get crowded. People who entered the event got “Hello my name is…” stickers. Maisy May Mars and Travis Smith were outside behind a card table with their stickers on display. Stickers are quick, meaningful temporary works of street art that are designed to be seen by the masses. At this event stickers could be bought or traded. Maisy had “Radioactive Snail” stickers. Her stickers are found in cities around the world thanks to the Internet and an active artist community that has helped this artistic craze go viral. Maisy and Travis were selling stickers for just $1. Travis drew a hammer on a “Hello my name is…” sticker. I put it on my bag. I was tagged.

Artists spread out in the parking lot and started making art. I sat next to Maisy’s table and sketched an artist as he spray painted intricate yellow circular patterns on a large sheet of canvas. People stood around and watched him as he worked. Inside the DJ started cranking up the volume on the rap and hip hop music…

The Most Expensive Gas in America

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I was running late getting to Brian Feldman’s “The Most Expensive Gas in America.” When I piled my art supplies into my truck I realized I was low on gas. Driving out of my subdivision, my bright yellow gas light flickered on. It is shaped like a gas pump to further remind me that I needed to fill the tank. To save time I pulled into a 7-Eleven where the gas was a bit more expensive than my usual gas station. The regular gas cost me $3.39/gal. The $50 plus price tag hurts each week, but I need to get places to sketch them.

Sun Gas, located just north of Orlando International Airport (5600 Butler National Dr., off of S. Semoran Blvd.) charges unsuspecting tourists up to $5.99 a gallon for gas. The gas station is now being fined $250 a day by the City of Orlando for not posting their prices. The gas station has a huge sign that announces airport valet parking, an Arby’s and 24 hour convenience store. There is plenty of room on the huge two story high sign to list the gas prices. A sign was placed in the parking lot behind the store (where no one will see it) but again no prices were listed. On the day of Brian’s performance, Sun Gas was in court challenging the city ordinance to display their prices.

Brian Feldman decided to take the issue to the streets by standing at the intersection and announcing the prices to passing motorists.

Current prices (as of June 30th 2011)
Regular (87) $5.799/gal.
Plus (89) $5.899/gal.
Super Premium (93) $5.999/gal.

Brian arrived a bit late saying, “I had to go and get more nines for the sign.” He had his portable theater marquee around his neck. That thing is made of metal and it is heavy. His sign had all three prices listed and he waved to passing cars. I was shocked when cars pulled into the station. Brian’s small sign probably isn’t easy to read from a passing car. A news photographer arrived and started shooting photos of Brian. The photographer spoke to me briefly stating, “You picked a strange day to be sketching. Look behind you. Those steel blue clouds will be here in 20 minutes.” I started to sketch faster. Shortly thereafter, a car pulled up to the corner and the driver started screaming at the photographer. “Are you reporting the news or creating the news!?” He was livid, thinking the photographer was staging the public service of showing consumers the gas prices. The photographer tried to explain that it was a conceptual art performance but that made the man’s face get redder. His wheels screeched as he sped off onto Semoran when the light changed.

Later, a leggy blond woman approached Brian from the gas station. After she left he shouted out to me, “Incident!” My drawing was just about done so I walked over to see what was up. She had made indications to Brian that she knew where he was parked. The implication being that she would arrange to tow his car. Brian handed me his car keys and asked me to move his father’s Ford Focus to the restaurant across the street where I had parked. I half expected to find his car gone, but I found it and drove over to my truck. I then drove over to where Brian stood and returned his keys. He had many hours to go, as he planned to announce the prices for 5.999 hours which is an hour for each dollar charged for the gas. As I drove north the rain pounded my truck. Is price gouging the American way?

Turkish Festival

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The Turkish Festival was held near the Lake Eola band shell on a steamy hot afternoon. Food vendors were lined up along Robinson Avenue. Terry joined me on this sketch outing. She wanted to see the menu for each food vendor. I of course was hunting for my sketch. While she went booth to booth, I stood in the shade and surveyed all the activity. Kids were bouncing on the inflatable fort which had been set up on the grass. Dancers were performing on stage but the sun beat down on the audience. I finally found a spot near this vendor who offered to shoot photos with the ornate middle eastern garments. There were several tables full of robes and turbans.

Perhaps three different families got dressed up as I sketched. Ismail Altintas wearing a large turban coached people on what they should wear and he shot the photos. A mother got her daughter to wear a bright red robe. I wondered were the father was. A young couple dressed up as royal sultans, then stood arm in arm for the photographer. Turkish and American flags fluttered in the breeze along with red and white balloons. When I finished sketching I found Terry so we could order some lunch. We got several gyros and sat in the food tent to eat. A large Turkish family was seated next to us. Little children pressed in to get close to a little baby cradled in the cloaked woman’s arms. The children made faces at the baby and had him clutch their fingers. Terry was hot and tired. I agonized about doing another sketch of the folk dancers on the stage but decided I couldn’t bake in the direct sunlight for the sake of a sketch.

United Arts Annual Meeting

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The United Arts Annual Meeting was held at the Orlando Museum of Art. I arrived a little early and tried to enter the auditorium but it was locked. The front gallery was set up for a buffet lunch and there was a podium. I started sketching in there until someone let me know that the meeting was in the main auditorium as I first suspected. On the stage were canvases on easels and painters supplies. Ironically most of the supplies were for house painter’s rather than fine artists. I know very few artists who use a roller to paint with. No wonder it is hard for Central Floridians to pay market value for art. They just want the walls covered.

Cory Warren showed slides from a new M.D. Anderson Cancer Center artist in residence program that he helped spearhead.Funded in part by the Livestrong foundation this program brings working artists into the hospital to help cancer patients express themselves through art. Patricia Charpentier is helping patients write their life stories and Andrea Canny is helping patients create art. Art can inspire, enlighten and be a comfort when faced with so many overwhelming issues of mortality.

Elaine Hinsdales campaign report was funny, light hearted and to the point. Her first slide of Eduard Munch’s “Scream” showed the challenge of raising several million dollars. “Dogs Playing Poker” showed the committee dealing with the hand they had been dwelt. The end result was that they met their goal raising over two million dollars and raising o.8% more than last year.

Several $5000 awards were handed out. One went to the Enzian Theater. They plan to use the money to purchase a new screen for the free outdoor screenings they do on the sloped lawn beside the theater. The second award went to Dario Moore who is the choreographer for “Slave Stories”, and he teaches children the importance of expressing themselves through dance. This was the second time in two weeks that I had watched him accept awards.

Dandelion

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I went to Dandelion Communitea Cafe after work with the notion that I would sketch their weekly potluck dinner. There was no potluck when I arrived so I ordered a chili and a cinnamon apple tea. I sat in the corner and surveyed the main dining room. I had just started the sketch when my chili and tea arrived. The chili was sooo good and piping hot. My iced tea was good as well. I always get intimidated when there are so many teas to choose from. I dread getting some weird hippie blend that tastes like dirt. Not that I have ever tasted a dirt tea mind you. The point being, I was pleasantly surprised.

Beside me a young college girl was talking to her mom about the challenging classes she was taking. She is also a DJ at the school radio station, playing music at some ungodly hour. I sketched the two couples, a child and young man seated around the table in the center of the room. I love the orange and yellow fabric ceiling which slopes up like a tent towards the globe shaped light fixture. I was delighted to see that one of my invitations for models to join the Mennello Museum mural line was up on the bulletin board in the hallway.

All the art on the walls was by Brian MacGregor. There were waves inspired by the Japanese wood prints of Hokusai, and exotic women floated in surreal skys. Brian described his work as figurative surrealism. The paintings looked like oil on a smooth surface like wood. They all had a high level of polish and they were very affordable.

Community Open House

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On the day after the groundbreaking at the Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts, I returned to the tent set up on Magnolia Street. The road’s yellow center dividing lines ran down the length of the tent. There was no huge crowd this time around. People lounged on the couches enjoying the free entertainment. Heather Alexander one of the owners of the Winter Park Playhouse introduced featured players from her theater. She joined three other women dressed in stylish 60’s mini skirts. They sang a hilarious medley of James Bond theme songs using their voices to mimic the flashy trumpet blasts.

The sparse audience was once again shown a flashy computer animated fly through of the proposed performing arts center. Stiff limbed computer generated zombies wandered the halls and sat stiff and erect in the theater seats. Superimposed shots of the Lion King being performed on Broadway in NYC made it seem like Orlando could become a cultural mecca overnight, and shots of children being taught about the arts made it seem like there could be a creative, vibrant, inspiring school of the arts associated with the project.

A photographer was shooting photos of the acts on stage constantly and occasionally people wandered up to the velvet ropes to shoot video on their iPhones. My wife texted an urgent message so I walked over to her office building a few blocks away.