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.

Animated Shorts

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Each year, I have to see the animated shorts at the Florida Film Festival. This year Bill Plimpton had a display of artwork from around the world used in his Global Jam. He invited artists to each tackle a scene in their own style from his Academy Award winning film Guard Dog. The invitation went out via the Internet. Bill waited an hour, no response. He waited another hour with no response. He went home depressed. The next day he was told that too many artists responded causing the server to go down. The resulting film was hilarious being even quirkier with all the different looks. Bill said the film cost him $20 to produce with animators around the world volunteering their time.

Anyway, the Animated Shorts screening was sold out. The line stretched back as far as I could see. There was a chance I might not get in, but house manager, Brian Feldman, stepped in and made sure I got a ticket. I found a seat in the very first row. Brian joked and said I should sit on the stage and sketch the audience. I was tempted but really wanted to see some animation. I leaned back and let the screen filled up every inch of my glasses. Tales of Mere Existence by Lev Yilmaz is always in the lineup and is always funny. This year he talked aimlessly about how he had imagined relationships with women in the Ukraine via Facebook. There were a few artsy shorts with no apparent story. I always get annoyed at these aimless films.

My favorite film of the night was “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore“. Though it could use a shorter title, the film is magical. It basically stresses how books offer refuge bringing color and life into people’s lives. The main character was modeled after Buster Keaton. One of the co-directors daughter died, and his wife became paralyzed during production of the film. Moonbot the new studio that made the film is located in Louisiana, so when Hurricane Katrina hit, it ended up becoming a major part of the story. There is something very sad about seeing peoples books in among the rubble of destruction. Several of the story and visual development artists were originally from Orlando but unfortunately I didn’t know them. They asked if anyone in the audience worked at Disney Feature Animation. I started to raise my hand but stopped halfway up thinking “well, not anymore.” Seeing no hands he said, “Damn Michael Eisner.”

txt at the Telephone Museum

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As part of ArtsFest, Brian Feldman held a performance of “txt” at the Telephone Museum in Maitland (221 West Packwood Avenue). The very first time I sketched Feldman, he was performing “txt” at the Kerouac House. Brian specifically grew his beard back for this one performance. I found my vantage point in the front row before anyone else arrived. I also set up my video camera which recorded the performance from the back of the room next to a telephone booth. Ancient phones loomed above Feldman’s head and photos of switchboard operators were on the walls. There were perhaps thirty or so folding chairs set up in front of the large oak desk where he sat.

The idea of “txt” is that the audience supplies every line of dialogue that is spoken. Fifty protected Twitter accounts are set up so that each audience member can send a tweet directly to Brian’s show account, all of which are redirected to his phone thus keeping every entry completely private. Before the performance space was opened, Feldman crawled under the desk to wait for his entrance. When the fifteen or so people were seated, he crawled back out and sat in the leather chair causing laughter.

The young couple across from me immediately started tapping on their phones. The girl resembled actress Julianne Moore. She kept glancing at her boyfriend’s phone, not sure what she should type. She kept laughing at his entries. Brian’s phone vibrated and he picked it up. He read, “Football may be America’s pastime, but basketball players sweat much more.” I glanced around thinking I knew where the text came from. For this performance, Feldman acted out and dramatized his readings. One text read, “The man in the front row blushes whenever he laughs.” I was one of three men in a front row seat. I was certainly laughing. Was I blushing? Could people see emotion and expression just from the involuntary rush of blood through my veins?

I focused more intently on the drawing. Remarks were made about the corporate looking portrait above Feldman’s head, and about a creepy mannequin dressed as a telephone repairman. An early text warned against using profane language since women and children were in the audience. Surprisingly everyone complied. I consider “txt“ to be Feldman’s signature performance piece and it would be great to see it performed in a larger venue. There is something interesting in clandestine, anonymous communication that indicates where we are moving as an interconnected society.

The Skill Crane Kid

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As part of ArtsFest, Brian Feldman purchased a skill crane machine, stuffed it full of plush toys and then crawled inside where he remained for 16 hours. The machine was set up in Stardust Video and Coffee. When I arrived with Terry, Brian had already been inside for over six hours. Children especially loved the performance, often begging their parents for more change so they could try the skill crane again. Some people took pleasure in dropping the metallic skill crane claws on Brian’s head. For me the performance once again had a Kafkaesque quality reminding me of the Hunger Artist. Brian’s presence also reminded me of carnival barkers at the fair whose main objective is to keep the rubes from winning a prize. Brian acted as a sort of anti-carnie, actually placing a plush toy in the claws of the feeble skill crane to satiate each child’s greed and desire.

I seldom had an unobstructed view of the skill crane. More often than not families blocked my view as they took pictures and stuffed quarters in the machine. A friend of Brian’s named Helen Henny was shooting photos the whole time I was sketching. Sultana Ali, Brian’s girlfriend, was in the next room and she seemed to be updating Brian’s Twitter and Facebook accounts as the performance progressed. I heard the performance was streamed live. Terry and Sultana had lunch while I sketched. Several hours later when the sketch was finished, I walked up to the skill crane to say goodbye to Brian. He gestured from inside saying I had to try my hand at the skill crane. I refused, until Terry lent me the dollar to play. Several people in the room egged me on so I gave in and decided to play. I maneuvered the crane over a small teddy bear right near the exit chute of the machine figuring that if the crane didn’t grab the bear, it might just get knocked loose. I really didn’t need a teddy bear, and I didn’t want to play the game, but once the machine took the money, then the stakes were high. I had two tries and both times the poorly designed claw picked up nothing but air. With this failure I suddenly realized I was upset, not at the machine but at Brian. I had seen him coax the toys into the claw for child after child as I sketched. He even coaxed a toy out for Genevieve Bernard. Everyone was a winner but me! His passivity as I played made him just like any loud mouthed carnival barker who coaxed money from people at the fair using insults and dark sinister humor. I felt robbed.

As a child I once dreamed of getting a huge balloon that was for sale on an ice cream truck that wandered my neighborhood. Inflated, the balloon was larger than me . By the time I had convinced my mom to give me the change needed, the truck was long gone. I ran down the street for many blocks before finally giving up. I was devastated. The next day the balloon was forgotten. I had new obsessions. The night after Brian exited the skill crane, I met him in Stardust video and coffee to get my video camera back which had recorded most of his performance. Brian took me out to Sultana’s truck and presented me with the palm sized bear I had tried to win. I refused at first, but he insisted. At home my pet cockatoo was scared of the little stuffed bear at first, his crest rose in surprise, but then he ripped out its eyes and eviscerated its stomach playfully.

The Chalkboard Exercises

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It was six in the morning and I was standing in my driveway waiting for Brian Feldman to pick me up with a U-Haul he had rented. It was still pitch black outside and a deep wet fog made the orange glow of the streetlights quickly fade away as they marched away down the street toward the horizon. I heard the roar of the truck before I saw it. I pulled out my iPhone and flashed it at the oncoming headlights. I had my tablet to sketch with since it is the best option when sketching in low light. Brian had asked me to bring me video camera and tripod as well, so I piled them into the cab. In the back of the U-Haul was a large portable chalkboard. Brian had labored for days to find one since most classrooms have whileboards these days.

I directed Brian on how to get from my place to Universal Studios. There was going to be a Principal’s Appreciation Breakfast at Hard Rock Live. The event began at 7am and Brian wanted to be set up at the entrance writing “I WILL SUPPORT ARTS EDUCATION.” over and over again. When we arrived at the Universal Studios security gate the guards asked us both for our drivers licenses. Brian was asked to open the back of the truck. While he was doing that I was asked who our contact was since our names were not on the list. I told him to ask Brian. Britt Daley, who works for the Orange County Arts Education Center which was the host if the event, was our contact. Brian called her and she scrambled to find out why we were not on the list. It turns out Brian’s name was on a list, just not the one the guard looked at.

We parked behind Hard Rock Live and unloaded the chalkboard which was surprisingly heavy. We wheeled it around to the entrance and set up. CityWalk across the lagoon looked gorgeous in the misty morning fog. I set up the tripod and asked Brian if he had the tapes. He had forgotten to get them. The event guests slowly arrived. Brian started writing and I began sketching. I rather liked the clacking sound the chalk made as it struck the board. Some teachers laughed out loud. But mostly there was the clacking of the chalk and the tapping of my stylus on the tablet. The moist air was making my hand stick to the tablet making it hard to let long lines flow.

When everyone was inside, I went in and stood at the back of the room to listen. The keynote speaker, John Ceschini, spoke about the importance of arts in education. He began with a quote from Yeats, “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the building of a fire.” On the table in front of me there were boxes of crayons and a single tile mosaic with gorgeous blue tiles and several clear spherical tiles. I thought back to a mosaic I had made for my mothers when I was 10 years old. On stage John quoted some more famous minds like Einstein who said,”Imagination is more important than knowledge.” A video was shown of a little girl talking about an abstract painting by Wassily Kandinsky. In it she saw birds, a bridge, a plane, rainbow and a black hole which was beginning to suck all light and color from the imaginary world. Here was a mind ignited by limitless possibilities of the imagination.

CarVerations

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Mark Baratelli’s “Mobile Art Show” had a different twist this month. Usually, Mark rents a U-Haul truck and has an artist exhibit their work inside. When I arrived at the City Arts Factory this month I found Mark unloading wrappers, newspapers and assorted bottles from the backseat of his beat up 1996 Chevy Cavalier. He put a bottle of mouthwash on the dashboard and loaded everything else into the trunk. He and Brian Feldman, a local performance artist, had decided at the last minute to create an event called “CarVersations,” in which people could pay one dollar could sit in the passenger seat and have a five minute conversation with Brian.

Evan Miga showed up having heard about the event on Facebook. Mark had announced it only hours before. Evan showed me some wire that was wrapped around his backpack. At the end of the wire was a silver box with a switch. When he flipped the switch, the wire glowed a neon blue. As we spoke the neon flickered, fluctuating to the volume of our voices as we talked. He plans to use these wires to outline the corrugated robots he is creating for”Dog Powered Robot and the History of the Future” which will be in the Orlando Fringe Festival this May.He said some scenes will be in complete darkness with just the neon glow illuminating the scene. Evan wrapped the wire around the outer edge of the windshield of the car so when people spoke, the wire would glow.

Brian showed up with his portable marquee and he set it up on the roof of the car. Mark shouted to Brian through the windshield, “Three minutes to places!” For some reason, after getting in the car, Brain flipped on the windshield wipers which sent the neon wire twisting in all directions. Mark shouted, “Noooooo!” Brian couldn’t figure out how to turn off the wipers quick enough. He shouted back, “How do you turn the wipers off?” I laughed out loud. It was like watching vintage Laurel and Hardy slapstick.

Several SAK Comedy Lab volunteers came down during the event to speak to Brian in the Car. Orlando Live host Peter Murphy had an interview with Brian, which the cameraman filmed from the backseat. My wife stopped by, paid her dollar and spoke to Brian for five minutes. I am not sure I gave her a solid five minutes of my attention since I was struggling with the sketch on my digital tablet. Before I knew it, CarVersations was over. Mark drove off and I continued to throw down digital washes till I was satisfied.

McFeldman Wedding

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At the start of the year I was asked to join the Feldman family as they celebrated the wedding of Adrienne Feldman to Jason McIntosh. The wedding took place at the Orlando Shakespeare Theater (812 East Rollins Street). When I arrived, I immediately went inside the Goldman Theater where the ceremony was going to take place. The Houpa was already set up, so I used the time prior to the ceremony to work out the details of the space. It was on this stage that the Feldman family once performed as the “Feldman Dynamic.” This Fringe show organized by Brian Feldman, simply featured a dinner table and the family eating dinner as they always did. There was no script, this was a simply demonstration of life as theater. Now the family once again took to the stage to enact the simple drama of joining two hearts. Before the ceremony Brian paced the stage excitedly.

When the wedding party took to the stage, I started sketching frantically, since I knew the wedding ceremony would last at most a half an hour. The family had saved several seats for Terry and myself in the front row but I liked the view from the back row where I could work some audience members into the foreground. When it came time to exchange rings, a small Dachshund ran up to the stage. The dog was wearing a tuxedo and the rings must have been tied to the outfit. Everyone laughed out loud at the sight. The ceremony was quick and to the point. When Jason had to stomp on a glass, he missed on his first and second try. Once again the seriousness of the occasion was broken and people laughed.

The reception was held in the Patrons Room which was once a planetarium in the buildings past. A green laser projected thousands of green points up onto the dome shaped ceiling. Every table in the room was labeled with a month of the year. The newlyweds sat at the January table at the front of the room. Adrienne approached me and said she was excited to finally be in one of my sketches. She was upset however that only her back was in the sketch. I decided I would have to sketch her during the reception to make it up to her. The moments of the celebration seemed to fee by as I sketched. Brian joked with me that this assignment was much harder than the sketch I did of the swan boat talks. He was absolutely right. Getting this sketch was a major challenge since the reception flew by at the breakneck pace of an MTV music video. As I worked, the caterer insisted I move to make room for an ice cream table. I said that wasn’t going to happens, he shoved the table up behind me. Jason’s mom, Janice, tackled the job of cutting the wedding cake. She joked with me that she hadn’t signed on for cake duty but she was a trooper and as the last slices were being handed out, I was finally wrapping up my sketch.

Digital Salute

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A Tibetan Monk was the second-to-last person to sit opposite Marina Abramovic as part of “The Artist is Present.” A friend from high school named Bonnie Rose had joined me, and we returned to the exhibit which was now packed. I tried to see Marina and the Tibetan Monk by jumping up to see over all the heads. I discovered I got a decent view when I stood on my camping stool. Brian wanted to see the final moments of the performance so I let him stand on the stool. When the last person walked off the exhibit floor leaving Marina alone, the audience burst into applause. Marina then started shaking hands of people who surrounded her. Everyone in the room seemed to have an iPhone, digital camera or video camera and they all raised them over their heads to take photos. To me it was an iconic sight, a sort of digital salute with all the cameras offering validation and acknowledgment that an important moment was happening.

Actress Liv Tyler pushed through the crowd with her entourage past us. Suddenly, Brian came crashing down from the camping stool I have used for years. It had had enough and ripped wide open. I asked if he could get up and he was stuck. I grabbed him under his right arm an lifted him up. I was surprised by how light he is. The room was still filled with thunderous applause. The guards were creating a break in the crowd right in front of us so Marina could be ushered out. Brian yelled out that I should get one of my sketches signed by Marina. I scrambled around looking for a pen and had just gotten ready when she passed in front of us. Her attention was diverted by some of her friends opposite us so she never noticed the sketch. I had arrived in NYC at 7:30 or so in the morning and I was flying out late that night. It was a whirlwind day that I will never forget. Next to us was a sign that read: “Today is the final day of the exhibition, “Marina Abromovic: The Artist is Present.”

The Artist is Present

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As Brian Feldman got closer to the front of the line at MoMA‘s “The Artist is Present” exhibition, it was getting near the end of the day. Several times he walked out of the room and I feared that he might have given up or changed his mind. Instead, he was charging his iPhone so he could continue to text updates to people following his progress. When Brian was on deck, the next person to go on the floor, a guard stood next to him talking for some time. From my perch at a third floor window overlooking the room, I couldn’t hear what was being said. Later, Brian told me that the guard had reservations about letting Brian sit opposite Marina Abramovic in his white robe. He feared Brian might be planning something disruptive.


I worked on this sketch for over an hour before Brian sat down. I simply left the seat empty where Brian would sit until he was finally in place. Since I was in a black suit, some people may have thought I was a guard; I was asked more than a few times about the event and was happy to answer questions. A small group of people clustered around the window I was drawing from, and wanted to know all about Brian. I couldn’t help but offer some background on this amazingly charged clash of titans.


From the moment Brian sat down, he said he felt Marina was in total control. Towards the middle of their time together, Marina placed her hand to her chest and gasped lightly. Then, she once again regained composure and remained in control. When Brian walked away, Marina leaned forward and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. After it all was over, MoMA visitors stopped Brian and asked him questions as he walked around the museum. He said that he was ready to stare at Marina all day, but was still grateful for the brief moment he had been granted. I think this trip to NYC made a major impression on Brian. Walking the streets afterward, he was carefree and lighthearted. I have never seen him so happy.

Happiness Hurts

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Performance artist Brian Feldman put out a call on Facebook for anyone with a video camera to record his performance of Happiness Hurts at the Orlando Museum of Art. I happen to have a video camera, so I sent him a message and he made arrangements to get me into the event. He created this performance for 1st Thursdays at the Museum. 1st Thursdays is a monthly event where artists are asked to exhibit work along a similar theme. I couldn’t make out the theme by looking at the art hanging on the walls. Then Tisse Mallon finally realized that they must all relate to happiness. Brian’s performance piece was the key to the puzzle. I spent some time getting the camera ready and there was some panic that the cord to the projector might not be long enough. At the last minute a longer cord was found.

Brian began to smile and the museum slowly filled up. Some people got the idea of the performance right away. I overheard one woman saying, “Smiling that long must hurt.” I was the sketch artist and cameraman. I turned the LCD display so Brian could see his closely cropped face in the viewfinder. This allowed him to focus and remain perfectly still. I set my watch timer to go off in an hour and at that time I would have to replace the tape.

While I was working Sultana Fatima Ali introduced herself to me. She had helped organize a bicycle giveaway program called “Wheels for Kids” that I had sketched. On that day, she had seen me working and she asked a policeman who I was. He told her about my blog and she started reading. She has started following Brian’s performances so she has started to appear in my sketches. As I sketched, I kept meeting people I know. I don’t disappear into the woodwork the way I used to. I am slowly learning to balance the work with the socializing.

On the wall, Brian’s smile was quivering; he was having trouble keeping his smile consistent. He had to keep smiling for three straight hours. With my sketch complete, I wandered around a bit and looked at some of the art. I had to leave early to go sketch another event, so I asked Tisse if she would pack up my camera and tripod and she agreed.