Voci Dance

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As part of ArtsFest, Voci Dance converted the inside of a warehouse into a magical Victorian commentary on fashion. I arrived early and sketched the final moments of a rehearsal and then the mad rush to get lights in place and final set decorations finished. Genevieve Bernard, Voci Dance’s fearless founder, welcomed me warmly. Tamara Marke–Lares did an amazing job of transforming the space using the simplest elements and draped fabrics. When people started to arrive it became my task to keep people from entering the performance space prematurely. The performance began outside where dancers gracefully explored a garden area enclosed in a dark wrought iron fence. A huge hooped dress was unveiled and Leah Marke emerged from inside, strapping herself into the immense garment. She reached for the stars as if the garment was the only thing keeping her earth bound. The other dancers unfurled a long train behind her as Victorian imagery flashed on the side of the building.

The dancers moved the crowd inside. The next performance featured Tamara as a seamstress who transformed the dancers one at a time. She would reach up and rip down a bolt of fabric from the ceiling and she would rip, knot and tie the fabric around the dancer creating a bold fashion statement. The audience was encouraged to move in close and dancers glided among the crowd. There was an amazing turnout for the performance.

Anne Frank & Me

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As part of ArtsFest I decided to go to the Orlando Repertory Theater to see Anne Frank & Me. At the box office I asked about ArtsFest free tickets and I was put on a waiting list. I stood around with six or seven other people waiting. If the performance sold out, we wouldn’t get a seat. Soon enough I was called back to the box office and given a ticket. The young ticket taker at the theater door abandoned his post when his family arrived and he went in with them to be seated. Since there was no one to take my ticket, I wandered in and found a seat. The seats were perhaps half full.

The play started out in Nicole’s bedroom as she and her girlfriends practiced dance moves for an upcoming high school dance. The girls discuss Anne Frank’s diary which is required reading at school. Nicole’s mom believed that the horrors of Nazi concentration camps must be blown out of proportion. Nicole lets slip the fact that she has a crush on a boy at school. The other girls tease her. The scene is frivolous and care free. At the school dance this boy pulled her aside to talk. She anticipated his declaration of love, but instead he asked her if she thinks her girlfriend likes him. He asks Nicole to be a buddy and find out. Crushed, she runs across the road without looking and ends up being struck by a car.

What followed is a cross between Back to the Future and the Wizard of Oz. She woke up in Paris 1942. Her family is now Jewish and fearful of the Nazi invasion. Ultimately her family has to go into hiding. The boy she had a crush on ends up giving away her family’s hiding place. They were shoved into a packed cattle car heading to Auschwitz and she meets Anne Frank face to face. The final scenes are gruesome and tear jerking. Fierce spotlights blazed through the cattle car doors directly into the audiences eyes. Angry German guards shouted and pushed. The ten year old girls seated near me were curled up in a fetal position. This was a hard hitting play that left my nerves frazzled. The past never leaves us and we must bear witness to never allow prejudice and cruelty to gain a foothold.

Rollins Faculty Showcase

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I wandered onto Rollins College and found my way to Tiedtke Concert Hall to see the Faculty Showcase. The hall wasn’t very crowded so I made my way easily to the front row to sketch. A large piano dominated the stage so I blocked it into my sketch while I waited for the performance to start. Julie Batman, soprano, was the first to sing and I quickly sketched as she performed. She sang “While Shepherds Watched” by Michael Haydn. Harriet Hope played the piano. Next up was a Sonata in F minor, Op. 120 by Johannes Brahms. Mati Braun played viola and Garn Wolf was on piano.

Much later Bobby Koelble on guitar performed Variations On a Theme of Handel by Mauro Giuliani. He gave the piece a lively driving force. I became aware of just how good the acoustics were in the hall. When my sketch was finished, I relaxed and just enjoyed the music. Bobby performed in another piece titled Days of Wine and Roses by Henry Mancini. Chuck Archard joined him on electric bass and the two performers seemed to playfully improvise off of each other. They laughed and smiled as they lost themselves in the music. When the final chord faded the audience stood and applauded. These free concerts happen throughout the year and I love to attend when I can. The Rollins students are lucky to have such a talented faculty.

Saint Patrick’s Day

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There are some who are still celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day, you know who you are. But on the 17th I decided to go downtown to sketch the crowd gathered at the Harp and Celt Irish Pub and Restaurant. The sun was setting as I sketched the darks grew richer and deeper. Everyone was wearing green. Some men had absurdly large inflatable top hats while women sported derbys and shamrock antennae. There were a few couples wearing kilts. I was seated on the center median on Magnolia Avenue since it was the perfect spot to get this panoramic view of the crowd. I was approached by one fellow that wanted to give me a plastic cup for the evening. I said, “I’m fine thank you.”

Terry met me as I was working on the sketch. She decided to take a walk around Lake Eola to clear her head after a rough day at work. By the time she got back, I was done. We decided to go inside the Harp and Celt to get a drink. The pub was packed but we managed to muscle our way up to the beer taps. I saw the bartender pour a drink I had to try. The plastic cup had an inner shot glass which I think held a combination of Irish Whiskey and Baileys. The remainder of the cup was then filled with Guinness. As the ingredients mixed the drink frothed up like an ice cream float. I found out this drink is called an Irish car bomb! Terry ordered a Harp beer which seemed appropriate.

We sat outside. The table behind me was littered with half finished beers. A police officer on foot approached the doorman and they talked for a while. The only problem in the pub so far had been that a man who was presumed to be homeless ordered a beer and then started pan handling everyone inside. He had to be kicked out. After our one drink, Terry and I called it a night. We walked past the art galleries on the way to her car since it was Third Thursday which meant that there were multiple gallery openings. At her office Terry had a bright green jacket and I was surprised she hadn’t worn it for our outing at the Harp and Celt. She didn’t realize the evening might have a chill.

DRIP’s Wet Run

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It was late afternoon when paint can lids began to be hot glued to the central column. Jennifer Wagner stood on a tall ladder with the hot glue gun hard at work. For some reason one of the lids just refused to stick so that task was set aside.
After a cast lunch of delicious wraps and giant cookies, everyone was anxious to see if everything worked. Thomas was in charge of dumping a bucket of water on the stage floor to see how the drainage worked and to check for leaks. Sure enough leaks were found and silicone was applied along all the joints. Jennifer sealed all the seams of the vinyl curtains that surrounded the dancers stage. A big difference between the initial design and the final stage is that the paint and the tubing supplying the chandelier fountains all remained hidden under the stage and inside the central column. This streamlined the design.

With the sun setting in the west, the dancers came downstairs to rehearse. There was just enough time for one wet run. I did one last sketch of the performers inside the space. One of the stage techs told a dancer that the water was very warm, like 94 degrees. When the water showered down on her, she shrieked because it was freezing cold. As always the dancing was sensual, fun, and compelling. Within six short minutes the performance was over. Jessica Mariko wanted to get one run done with paint instead of water, but the dancers had to leave. Melissa Kasper, a long time “drippy” and the DRIP Assistant Workshop Manager, was asked if she would stand in for a dancer and she shouted, “Yes!” For her this was a dream come true and the remaining cast considered it “Epic!” I was asked to step inside as well but I didn’t have a change of clothes. Melissa changed into a pair of jeans which were ironically cleaner than the paint splattered jeans she had worn all day. She had lost weight and these jeans were getting too loose. She stood under the yellow chandelier and was covered head to toe with bright yellow paint. The paint splattered everywhere coating the vinyl screen. The hardest part of her job became cleaning the vinyl using a towel and then getting on her hands and knees to scoop the thin paint into the drains with her cupped hands. The dancers will have to clean up four times on performance night since the show is repeated for separate audiences.

Drip Paint Can Chandeleires

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I was invited to sketch a stage construction and rehearsal by the DRIP Dance Company. They were setting up in the Isleworth Country Club as part of a Travistock Cup Golf Tournament gala evening. About a month ago I did a sketch of what the set could look like based on suggestions from Jessica Mariko as we sat in Starbucks. The sketch helped sell the performance to the venue.

When I arrived at Isleworth, I had to surrender my drivers license to the security guard at the entrance to the gated community. My license is pretty old. In the photo I still had a full head of hair. The license is updated periodically with a sticker on the back. In a typical case of security guard blindness he didn’t see the expiration date on the back. I had to point the 2013 expiration date to him.


I was asked to park in the cast parking lot which is way past the clubhouse. A golf cart shuttled me to the cast entrance of the clubhouse where I wandered through the bustling kitchen past the security office and down endless basement hallways until I found an elevator upstairs to the main floor. Everyone was rushing to get the place ready for the gala.

The dance staging area was set up in a central court area surrounded by arches. White curtains had been set up surrounding the stage to hide the work in progress. Melissa Kasper, Jennifer Wagner and Thomas Starr were busy painting paint can lids. These lids would later be used to decorate the central column of the stage. The theme for the performance was Pop Art. On a second floor balcony, huge Pop Art paintings were covered with black fabric waiting to be unveiled. I could just make out an Andy Warhol soup can image as it peaked out from within it’s curtain. Set construction went on all day long.

Daffodil Terrace

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On the first Friday of each month the Morse Museum (445 North Park Avenue ), holds an open house offering free admission to the public between 4 and 8pm. This open house offer will continue through April. The museum also has a long tradition of offering an open house on each three day Easter weekend. I decided it was time to stop in and see the new wing which opened last month. I brought along my digital drawing tablet and my handy artist’s stool for my relaxing afternoon sketch. When I entered the museum I was told I would have to check my artists stool. I didn’t complain, I just handed it over. I would simply have to stand in one spot for several hours. I made a bee-line back to the new wing. I knew I wanted to sketch the Daffodil Terrace.

I pulled out my tablet and opened Sketchbook Pro. Within a minute the guard walked up to me and said, “There is no sketching in the Museum.” Fuming I explained that I had sketched there before with no problem. He said, “Sorry that is the policy.” I pulled out my iPhone and immediately sent out a tweet angrily announcing that an artist can not sketch in the Morse Museum. The guard walked up before I finished the tweet saying, “You can’t use your cell phone in the museum.” I sighed, turned on my heel, pressed send, and marched back to the front desk to collect my artist stool and leave in a huff.

As the woman behind the desk looked for my stool, I said, “I didn’t realize that artists were not allowed to draw in the museum.” She said, “I didn’t know that either.” She made a call. A very tall guard walked up to me as she was on the phone. He explained that it was the use of the tablet for drawing that was at issue. The guards assume a tablet might be shooting video or taking pictures. Anything digital is suspicious. He also said that people using their cell phones often walk around without looking where they are going. I imagined someone so immersed reading their cell that they walk right through a stained glass window. I find that image funny. “If I sketch in a paper sketchbook, is that alright?” I asked. “That is fine.” He said. I offered to leave the tablet at the front desk with my chair. The woman behind the desk said, “You hold onto it.” Walkie talkies buzzed among the museum guards announcing that an artist would be sketching, possibly with a tablet. They announced what I was wearing so they all could be on the lookout. She was concerned that I might block the traffic flow but I assured her that standing with a sketchpad, I would only take up a one footsquare. Besides, the museum wasn’t particularly crowded. Only one or two people inspected the terrace at a a time.

When I got back to the new wing, the first thing I sketched of course was the guard who told me I could not sketch. I decided not to use the tablet since it had caused such a commotion. As I worked, Catherine Hinman, the director of public affairs introduced herself to me and apologized about the policy. She explained that she was from the old school world of paper and ink publishing and that this digital age was a whole new world. She was very gracious and I felt a bit less like a felon as I sketched. I actually started to respect the guards stamina because he stood in one spot for a solid two hours. That is no easy task. Who knows how long he stood in that one spot that day.

The Daffodil Terrace was part of Laurelton Hall, Louis Comfort Tiffany’s upstate New York house. It was added to the house between 1915 and 1916. The columns are of beautiful white Carrara marble. Mined in Italy this is the same marble used by Michelangelo to carve David. Several times people reached out to touch the columns and the guard had to intervene. An old lady’s cell phone rang and the guard asked her to take the call outside. The capitals of the columns were made of concrete with yellow glass daffodils clustered together. A pear tree used to grow up through the central opening in the terrace. Sadly that opening is now capped off. The whole structure is enclosed in a sterile glass atrium. In the future I hope the museum will encourage artists to stop, sit and observe Tiffany’s colorful and inspiring work. As I retrieved my stool the guard said, “If we let you sit and sketch then everyone will want to do the same.” Is that really such a bad thing?

Dog Powered Robot Fundraiser

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I arrived at Blank Space (201 East Central Boulevard) early and the DPR Army was busy setting up. They all wore custom blue Dog Powered Robot T-shirts. The cardboard city took form quickly but Evan Miga made many adjustments and then started adding cardboard billboards. The advertising was blunt and to the point like “Things”, “New Stuff” and “Naked Underwear Model.” Scott Wilkins, the music selector for the night, was busy setting up sound equipment and tapping at the keyboard of his Mac computers. Before the first patrons arrived I shot a photo of the whole DPR army using Douglas LoCicero‘s camera.

I donated a print to the auction. There were some amazing silent auction items, like digital cameras, a bottle of white wine with the label, “Wine Powered Robot” and a Robot Pizza Party! The huge DPR blue foam letters stood stoically outside the Blank Space entrances. Bob Kodzis and Christie Miga manned the entryway. Two young women who were just passing had to find out what was going on. With admission they were given a wrist stamp. My wrist still has the a blue robot on it and if I wiggle my hand side to side, I can make the robot dance. I really should wash my wrist.

Alyssa Foley, the actress who now plays Lollybot, asked me if my work had been on display at the library. It turns out her boyfriend is an artist and he pointed out my work to her. Alyssa was be very funny. Once she stepped inside the Pink Robot she was a non stop dancing and flirting machine. There were lolly pops along the length of her arm. I tried valiantly to get one for myself and Terry but Lollybot was dancing so much that I couldn’t grab a pop from her waving arms. It was a bit comical as I tried again and again to get at the lolly pops. Each time I reached out she would turn or robotically walk away. Finally Lollybot walked right up to where Terry and Amanda Chadwick were sitting and Amanda quickly snatched two lolly pops. All my gallant effort was wasted, I never seem to catch the prize. I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.

Tod Kimbro performed on piano. He was later joined by Jessi Riese. They performed a fun lively set as I sketched frantically. Then came the main attraction, a recreation of the 2010 Fringe act that started it all. Darci Ricciardi stepped in and lip synced the singing of Britt Daley. As always the crowd was hollering and hooting as Dog Powered Robot Destroyed the Cardboard city. A video was then screened which had stunning special effects including lasers explosions and a burning cardboard city. Christie’s silent screen debut was hilarious. I have never seen Blank Space so crowded. Swami Worldtraveler introduced me to two young German women who were visiting Orlando. This proves that DPR is already an international phenomenon. The fundraiser was an undeniable success.

Florida Film Festival Preview

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I look forward to the Florida Film Festival every year. This year marks the 20th anniversary of the festival. Twenty years ago there weren’t as many film festivals as there are today. The opening night of the Florida Film Festival 20 years ago had such heavy hitters as Paul Newman and Oliver Stone. Today the Festival will showcase 164 films picked from 1035 submissions from 25 countries. This years theme is “Fresh Squeezed Indies” implying this is a film festival with a reputation for southern hospitality.

When I arrived at the Enzian Theater (1300 South Orange Avenue, Maitland), I immediately made my way to the press table to get my credentials. Jordana Meade was there and she said, “I knight thee” as she tapped each of my shoulders. She has always been a warm and welcoming supporter of the mission of this blog. I found a table in the press area and settled in to sketch. Before I was too involved in the sketches details, Bess Auer from Central Florida Top 5 came over to say hello. We talked about the Space Shuttle Discovery Launch and the tweet-up event associated with raising public awareness about the space program. She is in the sketch with the bright orange scarf. The couple in front of me in the dark business suits held hands constantly. They were adorable. Terry Olson joined me at the table. He thought he might be late but things at the preview got started slowly. My wife, Terry had been caught in traffic but even she arrived before the trailers started. In the first trailer, a young couple asked an older couple what their secret was in keeping their relationship fresh and alive. The woman responded, “We sleep with other couples.” A strand of spaghetti dangled from the young woman’s pursed lips. Terry and I looked at each other in the semi darkness and laughed.

I of course paid close attention when the animated shorts were announced. I’m looking forward to “The Gruffalo“, a cgi animated short that looks charming. It was recently nominated for an Oscar for best animated short. One documentary called “Made in India” is about how American couples are paying Indian women to conceive their child using in vetro fertilisation. The problem is that after 9 months, it isn’t easy to give up a child. There are 43 women directors showcasing their films in the festival this year. Love is found in so many entries, like “God of Love” and “Young Goethe in Love.” Along with the many juried films, several old classics will be screened like a remastered 35mm print of, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s“, “The Yearling” and “Amarcord” by Fellini.

Find your favorite films on the Festival website. The Florida Film Festival is truly unique, a chance to meet the creators and actors first hand at the Eden Bar between screenings. You never know who you might meet or what you might learn. For me it is a vibrant artistic experience that can’t be missed.

Porch Dogs

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Sunday was Terry’s day. She decided she wanted to go to Big Fin Seafood Restaurant (8046 Via Dellagio Way) for a Cajun Brunch. She knew there was going to be a Cajun Band playing and she reserved a table right up front next to the band. She ordered eggs Benedict and I ordered an egg in a basket which is an egg nestled inside of some French toast. My egg was under cooked for my taste but hers were delicious. We both ordered mimosas as well. While we ate I continued to sketch, figuring most sets don’t last long. The Porch Dogs played their blend of Cajun Zydeco tirelessly. Terry was invited up to sing “The Battle of New Orleans” and play the washboard with some spoons. Amazingly she knew all the words. Half way into the sketch I ordered a Mojito and it was tangy, sweet and strong, just the way I like them. As I was finishing a second Mojito the sketch was nearing completion. The lead singer, Antonio Bolet shouted out, “Looks like we have a serious artist in the audience! Let me see what you been doing.” I lifted up the sketch to show the band members. He then suggested I hold the sketch up for folks at the bar, which I did. The waitress came around and offered another round of drinks saying, “It looks like you do your best work with Mojitos!” Later he asked me for my card saying he would love for me to work on a cd case cover.

During another set Terry and I danced around the bar area practicing our Cajun moves. We have been to a few Cajun concerts and picked up the basics along the way. Terry whispered to me, “Every woman in this bar is jealous right now since their husbands don’t want to dance.” A few couples in the back of the bar also started busting some moves. We ended up staying in the outdoor porch area for over five hours listening to music and relaxing. This was our first time stopping into thus new development of restaurants that cropped up on Sand Lake Road in the last year. I am glad we did and I am sure we will return again son.