RIFF

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As part of Arts Fest, DRIP dance company unveiled a work in progress for an upcoming show titled RIFF, at the Cameo Theater (1013 East Colonial Drive). Dubbed, a Night of Music, The DRlP performance was preceded by four bands. The first band on the line up featured Britt Daley with her unique brand of electro pop. Next up was Telethon, then The Pauses and Peter Baldwin. Between acts and beers I spoke with Andy Matchett. I had heard of him a number of times and he let me know that I had sketched his wife and child once when I did a sketch at Dawn Schreiner’s “Doodles” opening at Seven Sisters Coffee house. I was fascinated by some club kids who filmed every moment of their experience, voguing in front of their iPhone cameras. I suppose I am not much different as moments of my daily experience are documented with a sketch.

Andy Matchett & the Minks performance was a perfect match to the DRIP experience. The act began with a colorful whirlwind of confetti which was kept alive with fans and hair driers by members of the audience. I already had finished two sketches so I resigned myself to enjoy the experience by dancing and laughing. For the final songs a huge parachute was unfurled over the audience and Andy jumped off the stage to perform in the heart of the maelstrom. This was pure unbridled childlike fun and I’m glad I put my pen down long enough to simply experience it. Now Andy Matchett & the Minks is on my radar and I will follow them until I do a definitive sketch.

The RIFF dance performance happened in a hallway that was created by hanging a huge bolt of clear plastic from the ceiling. Jessica Mariko, Drips founder, CEO and Creative Director announced that the plastic had arrived only moments before the opening of the show thus the dancers would be performing within its limitations for the first time. Nikki Serra choreographed the Hallway piece.At one end of this plastic hall was a fan and buckets of colored salts were waiting for the performers. I knew the dance performance was less than five minutes long so I resisted the urge to sketch. The dancers entered the space and performed a sensual dance that involved tossing the colored salt in the air and showering themselves in pure color. The RIFF band performed the equally sensual music composed by David Traver.

Brass Ensemble

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I have become a fan of attending the free concerts held at Rollins College’s John M. Tiedtke Concert hall. The acoustics inside the new Tiedtke Hall are fabulous. The concerts are seldom very crowded so I am able to find a seat right up front close to the performers. This Brass Ensemble was performed by students and directed by Christopher Dolske. The instruments in the ensemble consisted of 5 trumpets, 2 trombones, a bass trombone, 2 euphoniums, 3 French horns and a tuba. The music was eastern European themed with composers like Moussorsky, Gabrieli, Susato, Kabalevsky and Koetsier. I only recognized the name of one of the composers and all the music was new to me.

The concert lasted just long enough for me to finish the sketch. The music’s tone and timber influenced every line. The warm, full tones filled the hall. With the concert over, I quickly packed up my art supplies to leave. Someone stopped me in the isle and asked to see the sketch. I dug in my bag to retrieve my sketchbook. He asked me if I planned to show the sketch to the conductor. This is rather common, people seem to feel the subject must be made aware when they are included in a sketch. The conductor was already back stage and Terry was waiting for me at home so I ignored his frantic desire to share my work.

Flea Market Blues

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The Renninger’s antique fair and flea market in Mount Dora is a huge event that pulls people in to central Florida from all over the country. Robert Newlen flew here from Washington D.C. and Elaine Pines, drove up from Miami Florida. For them, this is an annual pilgrimage. Terry and I joined them when they decided to shop the flea market. While they hunted for bargains, I broke away in search of a sketch. Very little of the worn and rusty merchandise interested me. The one thing I searched for was an old working fountain pen, but I never found one.

It was at the end of the second row of endless clutter where I found Odell “Bluesman” Maxwell singing the Blues. He had a twangy, sharp, resonant and soulful was of playing. I quietly set up my artist folding chair and got to work. Odell seemed to simply speak the lyrics with the guitar played along in unison. He would shout out to anyone who paused, saying, “Hey, how you doing?” “I got the blues today.” One woman responded, “I am sorry to hear that, but the music is wonderful.” Another woman asked him about his fingering style. He always let people know that they could leave a tip and many people did leave a dollar in the large glass vase. He never seemed to mind me sitting and sketching. He let me know he had been married 7 times and he was still playing the blues. I laughed. His brow was glistening with sweat. As I sketched, I was lost in the moment rocking to his music. Odell was a true jem perched in among the lost and neglected clutter of peoples lives. He is an Orlando Florida native, a true southern home boy. There is something real, raw and true in every song.

Discovery Launch

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The Space Shuttle Discovery was scheduled to launch at 4:55pm. I had approval to get a press pass thanks to the artists at McRae Art Studios. The launch had been scrubbed so many times that the McRae Artists were unable to go. I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by. I drove out to Kennedy Space Center alone. This was going to be one of the final launches in the dying shuttle program. I thought I was giving myself plenty of time to drive out to the space coast when I left at noon. I was wrong. 50 became a gridlocked parking lot about halfway out to the coast. The hour drive became two and then three. Others were driving out to see the launch, who knew. The most agonizing wait was on the causeway over the Indian River. Finally I got to a security officer who asked for my paperwork. He waved me through. Suddenly there were wide open roads. I was now in the Kennedy Space Center. I knew where the press accreditation building was since I had been there before.

This time the building was open. Inside two elderly women were busy getting ready to leave. One woman looked at my paperwork and said, “Cutting it kind of close, aren’t we?” She printed up my pass and gave me a map to the press parking lot. I arrived on site with an hour to spare before launch. Just enough time for a sketch if I got to work immediately. I was tempted by all the news crews but with only one sketch I had to catch the launch pad. I was drawn to the huge rusty countdown clock. This thing was like 5 feet tall and 15 feet wide. I considered sketching it but I was standing in the blazing sun. It was hot. Instead I walked behind the clock and I sat down in its shadow. Ahhh… Nice and cool. I began to sketch all the photographers with their cameras aimed out across the water. The launch pad was visible on the horizon. I was surprised when someone said my name. He knew of my blog. He asked me if I thought it was ok for him to stand on a rusty box that jutted out from the back of the clock. I’m no expert, so I said, “Fine with me.” From his elevated perch he pointed out that Bill Nye the Science Guy was watching the launch. Seems he is always in character since he was wearing his signature bow tie. There was also a Japanese fellow in a blue astronauts jumpsuit talking to a Japanese news crew.

I finished the sketch with minutes to go before the launch. I sent out a couple of tweets and Facebook pics since I couldn’t sit idle. Then I started a second sketch where I planned to place the huge vertical plume. Then I heard people shouting and clapping. A large white billowing cloud silently issued from the launch pad. Then the blazing yellow light hit me. It was as bright as the sun. Then the sound rumbled across the water and struck me full force. It was a deep powerful, guttural sound that made my chest vibrate. I have stood next to huge concert speakers and they don’t come close to the force of this sound wave. The plume rose quickly into the sky and I quickly sketched its gesture. A soldier in a camouflage uniform stood in front of me. People continued to clap and scream as the brilliant light diminished. The setting sun illuminated the shifting rockets trail with it’s golden light. It was a perfect day for Space Shuttle Discovery’s final launch, and a fitting tribute to this space crafts long career.

The drive home was a nightmare. I used the GPS to keep looking for alternate routes then I just settled in and relaxed with the window down as I crawled home on the Beachway going 10 miles an hour. I had just witnessed one of man’s greatest achievements, the traffic didn’t matter. I listened to the sounds of crickets and other night life. I flipped the radio on for the long, long drive home. It was midnight when I pulled into my driveway. Exhausted I dropped into bed and drifted to sleep.

Monday Night Jazz

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If downtown Orlando is quiet on a Monday night, I can always county on quality jazz at the Grand Bohemian (325 South Orange Avenue).I heard that an artist was going to demonstrate how he does paintings using only coffee as his medium.The artists name was Steven Mikel and he was set up in the Grand Bohemian lobby opposite the reception desk.I asked him the question I am sure every tourist asks,” Are you wield the whole time you are painting?” “Do you sip the coffee all day?” We spoke for some time. He used a concentrated coffee “tar” for the darkest dark. and then selects different grades of coffee for different hues. Painting with coffee looks very similar to painting with watercolors.I considered sketching the artist at work, but the sound of jazz pulled me into the bar area.

As always the jazz was lively spontaneous and heart wrenching. I relaxed into a front seat ordered a Blue Moon and got to work. Having just watched Mikel paint with nothing but browns, I found myself dipping into the Sienna’s and Umber’s. Different musicians and singers rotated onto the stage. I searched for the moments when performers became completely lost in the music. By doing so I became just as lost in the spontaneous fluid searching rhythms and beats.When my beer was finished, I decided the sketch was finished as well.

Polasek Museum

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I was asked to participate this year in an event called the Winter Park Paint Out.The event will be happening between April 23 and April 30th. During this week plein air painters will set up all around Winter Park to paint. I will report on this unique event with my usual sketches. To promote the event, the Polasek Museum hosted a poster competition with the winning entry getting $1000. I was invited to the opening reception where all the plein air paintings were on exhibit. In the corner of the room an easel was set up and draped with a while sheets.The finished poster was hidden and would be United when the time was right.

I decided I couldn’t set up in the man gallery without sitting in front of someones painting. Even I am not that rude. So I went outside to the gorgeous gardens and decided to take an outsider’s view of the proceedings. An Albin Polesek bronze sculpture of Saint Francis and the Wolf of Gubbio quietly and stoically held its vigil as the sun set. Patrons from last years Paint Out were invited to the reception to meet the artists who would be painting this year.

Don Sandag came out to say hello. I first met Don back when I worked at Disney Feature Animation. Don came to the studio to run painting workshops in the evening back then. He told me he looks forward to the Paint Out each year because artists were pampered and treated like Rock Stars. Mary Hill and her boyfriend Berto Ortega were inside. Berto is a painter originally from New York City. Mary and another painter mugged at me through the window making me laugh. By the time the poster winter was announced, the sun had set and the cool, blue dusk light darkened Saint Francis. I heard the wave of applause as the winner was announced. I threw down my last water color washes and rushed inside. Don Sondag’s painting of the Polasek statue, “Mother” had won.

Afterward a group of artists remained. Larry Moore was discussing the idea that artists should make a percentage any time one of their paintings is resold. Don joked that this idea might backfire if the work was sold for less than the initial price, for instance at a garage sale. I spoke to the editor of Winter Park Magazine about using my sketches as a way to report on this years event. Getting to meet all these amazing artists is going to be a thrill. I am bound to learn a thing or two.

Pulse of Orlando

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What follows is a fictitious account. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental…

It was another rehearsal in the weeks leading up to Fringe. The actors sat around the kitchen table at Mike’s house reading personal stories and poems. They shared several bottles of red wine. Soon the rehearsal was more of an opportunity for members of the cast to share intimate secrets. The notion that this was a reading vanished and the conversations blossomed. Todd then admitted that he had started to dance at a gay club. Having a room full of people admiring his body gave him a visceral thrill. Anna, the director then decided that we all had to see Todd perform. We piled into two cars and headed off to Pulse. I was one of the designated drivers since I had been sketching rather than drinking. Anna sat on a copy of the Alchemist that was on my passenger seat. She and Sandra had just been talking about this book. Excited, she said she had to read it and she shoved it into her large purse.

We all filed into Pulse. My bag was checked since they thought I might have a camera. I explained that I only had a sketchbook. I backed myself into a nook and immediately started to sketch. Men gyrated in the amber light. I was right behind Todd who was dancing on the bar in front of me. About halfway into the sketch Anna pulled me over to join the cast that was assembled in a tight cluster at the end of the bar and dancing. Sandra and John were dancing provocatively close. When they grew self conscious, Anna would shove them together. She was always the director even in matters of the heart. They had all been drinking some exotic shots and combined with the red wine they were feeling no pain. A guy actually groped my balls as if this was his way of saying hello. I shoved his hand aside and decided I needed to walk away and finish the sketch. I wandered back to my spot, where I had to stop sketching every time someone needed to shove into the bathroom. When I returned to the group, my sketch finished, it was obvious that Anna had been drinking too much. Todd, the male dancer was with her trying to get her to sit down. He suggested Betsy and I try and get her home. When I approached Anna she backed away and disappeared into the packed dance floor. I wasn’t about to chase her around the club. Betsy seemed sober so I asked her to talk to Anna and convince her to leave. However Betsy was busy trying to find her cell phone which she had left in the other car on the drive over.

I exited the club and waited outside. I was sure Betsy would be out any minute with Anna and her cell phone but the clock kept ticking. Then suddenly Anna stumbled out and sat on the retaining wall beside me. She didn’t realize I was there. She had been sick and she couldn’t keep her head up. I asked if she was alright and she was surprised to see me. Embarrassed she began running down the street. Betsy exited the club and we both trailed behind her, concerned she might run into traffic. She finally collapsed between two parked cars and slumped over in a seated position. I reassured her until she shouted out, “Leave me alone!” I was making matters worse. I backed off and decided this had to be settled by the cast. Tod managed to help Anna get into his car. It was agreed that we would drive her to Mike’s house where she could sleep it off. I then drove Sandra and Betsy to Mike’s and when Todd and Anna arrived, the girls helped tuck her in for the night. I waited long enough to be sure everyone was fine, then I drove home. I’m convinced the events of this night helped bind the individual actors in the show into a tight knit ensemble. I suppose I could have left at any time, but I was the designated driver, besides I got a decent sketch.

Carol Stein at the White House

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Terry knew Carol Stein from Dor Shalom, a local Jewish social group. This concert at Benoit Glazer’s home (2000 south Summerlin Avenue) was one of the monthly concert held in this acoustically superb space. Carol plays light entertaining jazz that often incorporated riffs from classical music. She performed along with Eddie Marshall, Barry Smith and Charlie Silva. Jason Hunt had his detailed photo realistic pencil renderings hanging around the performance space. Carol pointed out that she is the proud owner if several of his pieces. I set up on the second floor balcony and started sketching frantically. Terry joined me on this outing but she stayed on the ground floor while I worked. Carol’s mom was in the audience, and she dedicated a song to her. It was a fun lighthearted evening of jazz.

Fall Festival

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Terry and I went down to Lake Eola for the annual Fall Festival. It was a beautiful day, bright and crisp.The streets around the Park were blocked from traffic and crafts tents lined both sides of the street. The streets were packed with people. Of all the jewelry, lawn gnomes, wooden signs and ceramics I saw, nothing interested me. shopping with no set goal is hard for me. There is no, “thrill of the hunt” when shopping, I Just want to get what I need and leave. I do experience “the thrill of the hunt” when it comes to sketching. After patiently walking through two thirds of the festival I finally had to let Terry know that t couldn’t take it anymore, I had to sketch. I had stopped right at the North East corner of the Park where a beautiful flowerbed was in full bloom. Yellow and violet flowers were arranged to create the image of a giant star.

I set up my artist stood on the sidewalk behind a craftsman’s tent. Behind the flower bed children were running, screaming, and bouncing. Parents relaxed on the stone retaining wall that arched around the flower bed. Radio station K92 FM was set up in a mobile van pumping out music. One of those inflatable fabric tube puppets grated and gestured to the beat, flapping happily. When I finished the sketch, I called Terry and we decided to get some food. We both ordered juicy Mediterranean gyros and sat on a park bench near a Civil war memorial to people watch. Imagining peoples lives and relationships was far more interesting than any trinket found in the tents.

Daytona International Speedway

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Mark Baratelli of TheDailyCity.com gave me a call and asked if I would like to go to the Daytona International Speedway to sketch a race. I of course said, “YES!” We met at IKEA and I drove the rest of the was to the speedway. Mark had been invited by Red Bull to experience the start of the race from the Pit Road Patios. This involved VIP access to the infield of the race track. We were both stoked but at 8:30 AM our excitement was restrained. At least Mark had a full cup of coffee for his morning jolt. We Knew we were getting close when we started seeing RV Parks. Then the bandstands loomed on the horizon and traffic settled to a crawl. The lot we had been instructed to park in was reserved for handicapped parking. After several calls to our contact, we were told to park across the street at a mall. Parking there was $50 but we were told we would be reimbursed. We walked to tunnel four which would lead to the infield. A Red Bull “Wing Girl” drove up in a jolt cart and drove us the rest of the way to the Red Bull Patio.

There were beautiful women everywhere. On the track, I swore I heard a 747 jet airplane firing up its engine. The patio grandstands were right behind the pit stops. I picked up a Red Bull and slopped some breakfast food on a plate and then started sketching as the pit crews set up. We had several hours before the race world start. We were offered a walking tour of the pits and the garage area where all the cars went through multiple inspections. Groups of five men would push the race cars from spot to spot. There were so many amazing sketch opportunities. I hope I get to return someday when I can fully commit myself to the event. As it was, I only had time for one sketch before I had to go back to Orlando to go to my night job at Full Sail.

Right before race time lunch was putout. It was an impressive spread. A D.J. was mixing music. This was a young crowd most of college aged kids. We were told this was part of a champagne to introduce NASCAR to a younger demographic. I was sad when we had to go, the party was just firing up.The sound of the race cars rushing by was deafening. As a “Red Wing Girl” drove us back out with the golf cart, we saw row after row of fans who were waiting for the race to start as they stood on the roofs of their RVs.The entire infield was an RV city.