The Boxer Returns

15 years ago, I sketched performance artist Brian Feldman at the Beacham Theater. He set himself up inside an Orlando Weekly Newspaper box and distributed papers to people going into the Best of Orlando Party. It was a tough sketching situation and ultimately, I was asked to move along by police. I had already finished the sketch line work thankfully and when the officer left I finished the sketch while standing up. He didn’t return to once again cut off the creative process.

Brian let me know that he was having a return performance at this year’s Best of Party being held in the Plaza Live Theater. The fact that I could sketch indoors with air conditioning was already a plus. I arrived early and Brian had left my name at the door so I could get into the venue. I was given an arm band and let right in.

Brian was set up in the lobby right next to the table that the Orlando Weekly was using to welcome people to the event. I sat in my artist’s stool right across from Brian which offered a good vantage point. This time Brian became a perfect photo opportunity to folks heading into the theater. Before getting into the Orlando Weekly box, Brian met with Production Manager Lee Soule.

Brian hired actress Suzanne Faison who I had just seen at the Orlando Story Club as she told her story for the first time. I had also sketched her at Fringe this year because she performed with the Orlando Gay Chorus, and she had a solo and dance near the end of the show. I sketched her as she got prepared a little off stage. She brought plenty of energy to the performance by offering to take a photo of anyone who grabbed a paper from the boxer. She danced when the music started inside the venue and she crouched like Spider-man always finding a way to grab the attention of folks passing by.

I always like to watch Brian’s facial expressions as people pose. More important are the unexpected moments like a woman struggling to adjust her dress next to the newspaper box before she went inside. Brian’s look of surprise and dismay made me laugh out loud. I kind of wish I had left more room to the right of the box to add some of these moments but my art is a slow burn. Once I commit to a composition, I push through and hope that everything works out.

When my sketch was done, I asked Brian’s Suzanne if she needed anything. I know that Brian never takes a food or bathroom break during a performance. She asked if I could get a couple of slices of pizza from outside. After I grabbed a bit for myself from the table that Maxine’s on Shine had set up inside the theater, I went outside and found the pizza offerings. It was late in the event so there was no line. I grabbed two slices and made my way back inside. I had to go through security, which I didn’t have to do when I arrived much earlier. My art bag had to be searched, and every brush and pencil was a potential weapon. The pizza ultimately did find its way into the Plaza Live, and Brian’s energetic assistant Suzanne was so grateful. I think she had just been running in caffeine up to that point.

The Plaza Theater was the site of the murder of singer Christina Grimmie by a rabid fan the night before the Pulse Nightclub shooting. Grimmie was participating in a meet-and-greet event after her performance, signing auto graphs and selling merchandise, when she was shot multiple times by the suspect, a 27-year-old male. I could not be upset by the heightened security. Orlando lost its innocence in June of 2016.

Orlando Weekly “Best of Orlando” Party

Each year the Orlando Weekly publishes a “Best of Orlando” edition. There is a category for Best Blog, but this year I threw my AADW votes to The Daily City. Even with my support, The Daily City only got 2nd place. Some Republican political blog won 1st place. Anyway, I was asked to submit an illustration to this edition of the paper and part of the compensation was two comp tickets to the big bash at The Beacham Theater. The Beacham is newly renovated, and I was curious to get a glimpse inside. When I arrived, Brian Feldman was getting ready for his performance piece, “The Boxer.” He was going to hand out copies of the Orlando Weekly from inside on of their red newspaper boxes. Since I was early, Brian walked me inside and up to the balcony where I had a view of all the action below. He said, “This is the first time I’ve been in this theater since I was 11 years old.” He went back outside to continue setting up, and I started sketching on my digital tablet.

The bands were doing soundchecks. One group had urban tap dancers and plastic paint cans as drums. As I sketched, people started to trickle in. Busty barmaids in slick black dresses vogued as they shot photos of each other. Soon the place was packed. The bar became a hive of activity. Blackjack tables started getting busy. Entry to the event entitled each person to 1,000 units of Casino Chips, which could be turned in at the end of the evening for prizes.

With my balcony sketch finished, I went outside to sketch Brian. Terry was at the bar trying to shoot photos of Brian Feldman and Mark Baratelli’s awards as they popped up on a large video screen. Outside, Brian was in the tiny red box right at the entrance. That meant I had to sit on the sidewalk to get a view of him. I wedged myself against the red velvet rope and got to work. There was maybe two feet of space behind me to the curb and I had to shove forward several times to let caterers by with huge vats of food. I think Brian’s presence threw people for a loop and some searched around for another way in. One woman cooed to Brian, “Oh, you’re so cute.” When she was gone he pointed to the back of his throat and gagged. He had trouble keeping his head up and he napped between groups of people entering the club. People kept offering him food and drink. He always refused. I , on the other hand, was actually quite hungry and parched.

The sketch was going good, the ink work finished, when I heard a voice behind me. It was a policeman on a bike. “Oh no, not again .” I thought. He asked me to, ” Move along.” Since I wasn’t finished with the sketch, I asked, “Can I sit out in the street to avoid blocking pedestrian traffic?” “No,” he said, “Then I’d be concerned you might get injured.” I just sat for a moment, thinking. He said, “Is he on a time out?” It took me a moment to realize he was referring to Brian in the box. I explained that it was performance art and for a second I thought he was going to ask Brian to move along as well. He didn’t. He asked me to move again, then biked off. He didn’t say I couldn’t stand where I was, so I stood and started quickly throwing down watercolor washes. I worked fast since I figured the bike cop might just go around the block and check back in on my anarchist sketch in progress.

David Plotkin, the new art director at the Orlando Weekly, introduced himself to me just as I was finishing up the sketch. I flipped through my sketchbook to show David and his lady friend my work. I was still rattled thinking the police might return. My wife Terry had just left and I was feeling guilty for not spending more time with her inside the party. I went back inside and made myself several soft tacos from the decimated food table. The stage was empty. I wolfed down the tacos and typed a text message on my cell to Terry, “Heading home.” I left, still feeling persecuted by the law. Besides, I wasn’t a winner.