The Mennello Christmas Tree

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Angela Abrusci offered to take some high quality photos of the five foot long painting I did for Margot Knight. We agreed to meet at the Mennello Museum to take the shots. Some shots were taken as the painting leaned against a brick wall and then we layed it flat in the parking lot. It was a cloudy day which she said made for better diffuse light. Autumn Ames wasn’t sure how to ship such a large painting, so I decided to ask Kim Robinson in the Museum, her advice. From the basement she found a large shipping box called a strong box. Inside was coated with foam soundproofing material. The box was just six inches shorter than what I needed for the painting. She also suggested that the panel be wrapped with glassine which would keep the foam from sticking to any paint.

Kim and Genevieve Bernard were getting ready to put up the museum’s Christmas tree. The wooden tree was designed by artist Anita Lam in 2000. She called it “The Out in Aspen BB Tree.” The branches were wooden dowels. They all had numbers which corresponded to the height they were placed on the trunk. Branches were collated and piled on the floor. Angela stayed to help and she snapped pictures. An old metal American flag was added to the top of the tree. It bobbed on its spring just barely clearing the water pipes.

Many of the ornaments were original works of art by local artists. The Museum put out another invitation to artists to submit ornaments for the tree this year. Genevieve went to an inner city school to participate in Career Day. She had the children make craft paper ornaments which she planned to string up on the tree. On her iPhone, Billy Holiday was singing “Nice Work if You Can Get It” as she strung the ornaments together using red yarn. Outside the giant bay windows the lake sparkled and a large colorful sculpture by John Robert Wolf moved slowly in the breeze. Kim stacked apple ornaments below the tree.

Gail Pergande stopped in to watch with her dog. Once the tree was full of ornaments, we all went out to lunch at Shakers in College Park. I hadn’t finished my sketch yet so after lunch, I returned to the museum to add color washes. I was inspired by the bright colors in the Earl Cunningham paintings on the walls.

Ivanhoe Village Art Stroll

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Angela Abrusci the executive director of Ivanhoe Village, has helped turn the neighborhood into a vibrant artists hub. On the first Friday of every month artists gather as the sun sets and they set up display tents to showcase their art. The September gathering took place on Orange Avenue between New Hampshire and Princeton. I arrived after spending the day working on the Mennello Museum mural. I was sweaty and tired but the air cooled as the sun sank to the horizon. This was the first sketch I did outside in a long time. I realized I had left my artist stool at the museum, so I leaned against a real estate sign and stood to do the sketch.

The Washburn Imports antique shop had old furniture on the sidewalk. Artist’s tents quickly sprang up and artists relaxed in lawn chairs waiting for people to stroll by. A girl waited on the corner for a friend. The girlfriend arrived with two hula hoops. A small folk group set up speakers and began to sing. The hula hoopers shook their hips to the music. This Art Stroll is a great relaxed place to go on a date night.

Angela stopped over to say hello. A mechanical voice announced how much time pedestrians had to cross the street. It counted down, five, four, three, two, one. She beat the mechanical countdown by one second. She told me all about Ivanhoe village. I’ve been to events that Angela attended and helped organize but I haven’t had much time to talk to her since I am always sketching and she was working. It was nice having the time to talk. My sketch was complete.

Angela volunteered to help with the painting of the Mennello Museum mural over the weekend. She had posed for the mural, adding some Hollywood glamor. She brought along music and it was great to paint to disco beat. Several children showed up to paint that day as well, and Angela helped me keep them on track. She is a gifted artist as well and once I explained my working methods, she applied them with confidence. Over the course of the day I got to learn so much about her. She is a true advocate of the arts and active in charitable work. Orlando and Ivanhoe Village are lucky to have her.

Tonight there is a Mayhem Street Party on Virginia 2 Blocks west of Mills Avenue starting around 6pm to 10pm this event happens every 5th Friday. Be the first to catch a sneak peak of Orlando’s most talented performing artists and their upcoming shows. Be inspired, awed and amazed by a myriad of local performers: dancers, singers, musicians, actors, and other talented wonders. Enjoy the carnival atmosphere while exploring Virginia Drive’s array of shopping and dining. It’s a ballet, a play, a concert, a party, and it’s all on Virginia! Food, activities and amusement for all ages. Admission is FREE.

Drum Circle

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I put in a full day painting the Mennello Museum mural. Angela Abrusci helped with painting most of the day. I’m learning as I go and it actually helps to relate my thought process to the people who assist me. We also had two middle school aged assistants. Libby Rosenthal put out ice cold water and granola bars for everyone who helped paint. About mid-afternoon I found myself alone with the wall again. As it got dark, I packed all my art supplies into my truck.

Although I was exhausted from painting all day, I decided to go to Orlando Brewing (1301 Atlanta Avenue) to sketch a drum circle. I believe this is a monthly event which coincides with the phases of the moon. I had never been to this drum circle. When I arrived a bit early, there were just a few people seated in the parking lot setting up their drums. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich from a food truck parked in front of the brewery, then I went inside to order a beer. I always feel invisible standing at a bar waiting to order. The bar maid was having a long discussion with a couple at the far end of the bar. I sat down and took a bite of the grilled cheese. Oh, it was so good. Let her take her time. I ordered a Pale Ale that was brewed there. Outside I found a spot to sit near a spotlight on the side of the building. I used a wooden pallet as a table. A grilled cheese washed down with a delicious Pale Ale is heaven.

The parking lot was surrounded by beer kegs on palettes stacked three stories high. Wood was piled in a fire pit and ignited. People kept arriving with drums. A woman named Sybille introduced herself. This was her first time to the drum circle. Moments later I called her Libby. She laughed saying, “You must be dyslexic”. “Libby is Sybille backwards” she said. I’m terrible with names. Moments later a young man walked by with a drum. He said, “Hi Sybille.” She said, “Hi”. She turned to me and confessed, “I can’t remember his name, It’s something simple like Mike.” She went over to hug him. After speaking with him for a while, she walked past me and said, “He’s Jim.” I laughed saying, “You were close!” “No I wasn’t” she replied. I laughed.

The drumming started sporadically at first with Appalachian styled call and responses of rhythmic beats. As it grew darker the air filled with improvised resonant rhythms. A train roared close, its horn punctuating the ongoing orchestration. It was hard to tell where the train stopped and the music began. A man stood by the fire, his arms raised in supplication as he arched his back and gazed up at the sparks rising towards the stars. There was a wild crescendo. Belly dancers began to dance around the fire their belies glistening. Sybille was dancing with them. A male dancer leaped over the flames. Lauren E. Lee swept out with a hula hoop spinning from her hips up to her neck and back down. She spun and rotated her hips in perfect unison to the beat. One of the belly dancers threw her flip flops off so she could feel the ground beneath her feet.

A young man sat in a trance with his eyes closed for well over an hour. He swayed ever so slightly to the beat. A friend of his crouched down beside him. The friend just stared at him probably wondering when he would be noticed. After half an hour of staring, he touched his friends sleeve and was acknowledged. With the sketch finished, I relaxed and felt heavy. There was no way I was about to dance. I realized I had left my pet cockatoo alone all day alone. On the drive home I left the radio off. The ebb and flow of the drum circle was still echoing in my head. My clothes smelled of fire and sweat. When I got home, I was to tired to sleep.

Andy Matchett & The Minks

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I had seen Andy Matchett & The Minks perform once before at a RIFF fundraiser at the Cameo Theater. They performed late that evening and I had put away my sketchbook. I had so much fun at that concert just dancing and jumping. It was a playful rave experience. Ever since then I have been looking for a chance to sketch this band in action. Andy told me about a concert at the Social and I leaped at the opportunity to see them again.

I had just finished an afternoon of sketching people for the Mennello Museum mural. Angela Abrusci had posed in a beautiful vintage dress as she applied lipstick and James and Jasmine Barone had me in stitches, joking and teasing as I worked. She held a parasol and he was in a kilt. When the sketches were done, I walked across the street to the Fringe festival’s green lawn of fabulousness to get some dinner. I bumped into Jeremy Seghers who was also going to see Andy Matchett & The Minks that night. He told me the group would be performing around 11pm so I had time for a Fringe show. He told me all about the show he had created called “Squatters” and it was about to begin so I rushed over to the theater. Jeremy told me the Social was on Orange Avenue just south of Colonial Drive.

I parked downtown in my usual “supersuprimo” spot and started walking towards Orange. I passed a cheesy mural which offered no inspiration. When I got to Orange I made the mistake of turning right to walk north towards a club I had been to before. After five blocks I realized I was lost. I looked up the Social address on my cell phone and went the other way. I was a sweaty mess when I got to the Social, where I was issued a green wrist band and ushered inside past the bouncer. I immediately saw Betsy Dye and Emma Kruch and my spirit lifted. Another band was performing and they were LOUD! I shouted a greeting to Betsy and she shouted out that this was a rare night out for her. Jeremy waved me over and I gave up trying to shout over the music. I found a spot where I decided to plant myself to sketch. I used the band on stage to block in where the Minks would likely be once they performed. Then I sketched the dancing crowd.

As Andy Matchett & The Minks set up, I continued to sketch. Before they played, a band member handed me some confetti. Jeremy found some seats and I joined him. The performance was pure unbridled fun. The second they started playing, confetti cannons sprayed vast clouds of heart shaped confetti over the crowd. Hair driers kept the confetti and streamers airborne through the whole show. Blowers sent streams of toilet paper into the crowd. Betsy collected the paper and wrapped herself into a fashionable cocoon. The lights flashed various colors on my sketchbook page. I imagined the Japanese animation that caused seizures in children. A parachute was unfurled over the cheering audience. Britt Daley had performed earlier that night and she introduced me to her mom, Gazelle. Jeremy kept getting bonked in the head and we laughed. Robbie Senior, a giant red robot from “Dog Powered Robot” invaded the stage. An epic laser and confetti battle followed. The crowd went wild. A wine glass crashed to the floor. A woman who had been sitting demurely all evening, was now dancing up a storm. The next day when I opened my sketchbook to see what I caught, a pink confetti heart fluttered to the floor.

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.