Steam Machine, a Steampunk Event.

Posted on by Thor

The Orlando Museum of  Art hosts a monthly exhibit for local artists on the first Thursday of every month. They rang in the new year with a Steampunk themed evening. Intricate steampunk sculptures and costumes dominated the 1st Thursday gallery that is to the left of the rotunda as you enter the museum. Outside the entrance, a series of blank panels were set up so that patrons could use the supplied spray paint cans to get their graffiti on. Actors from Phantasmagoria dressed in Victorian black and blood-red costumes circulated in the crowd, building the excitement with their turn- of-the century British accents.

 The most exciting performance of the evening came when the Phantasmagoria troupe took over the least populated end of the 1st Thursday gallery. John DiDonna stood on the circus-like, steampunk-themed barrel and shouted to gain patrons’ attention. He would make any sideshow hawker proud. The crowning act was a woman who could swallow a sword. Members of the audience crowded close and John asked several to test the blade to verify its authenticity and sharpness. She swallowed the sword with ease. A second time she swallowed the sword and bent forward at the waist to take a bow. A woman was picked from the audience to extricate the sword. John shouted that the sword was resting on the actress’s heart. The woman gingerly removed the sword, uncertain and then delighted like a child when she held the heavy blade. She ran back into the audience wide-eyed and beaming.

I chatted with Logan Anderson and tried to convince him to create a poem written on the sidewalk inside one of Orlando’s 27 blue busking boxes. He explained that there is a paint that is invisible when dry and can only be seen when the pavement gets wet with rain. I told him to do it for the Blue Box Initiative and put out a tip jar as he worked. “The streets are paved with gold!” I shouted. Of course I’ve never made a dime sketching, but I don’t put out a tip jar. He told me that for Art in Odd Places, an artist used gold leaf to fill cracks in the sidewalks in a certain spot downtown. The gold leaf has since washed away, but all the drains downtown send water to Lake Eola. It stands to reason that there must be gold in the lake basin. It is time to get those gold pans out and step into the lake to find that mother lode.

Finger on the Pulse at the Livingroom Theater Shorts Program .

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Banks Helfrich and Tisse Mallon present independent local films in real, live living rooms. Living Room Screening events go beyond movie night and into a shared experience which includes the film, the creator and the reflections and thoughts of the audience.
This evening’s intimate experience consisted of a number of short films and a conversation with the creators.

Having just finished editing “Finger on the Pulse“, I sent Tisse and Banks a Facebook messages asking if the short was a good fit for then Living room Theater Shorts program. Amazingly my last minute submission squeaked into the lineup.

Filmmakers included.

Ariel Zengotita
Kevin O’Neill
Rokaya Mikhailenko
Logan Anderson
Ferio Dismo

  My film, “Finger on the Pulse” began and the room fell silent.
You could hear a pin drop. I thought something might be wrong. When the
credits rolled there was an unexpected thunderous applause. In the talk
back I described my experience showing the 49 portraits at the Orlando Science Center,
and once again I choked up when I described how one victim’s sister
reacted when she saw the exhibit. I was advised to Show the film at the Enzian Film Slam and the Global Peace Film Festival. I need to clean up the edit and burn it to DVD to make those submissions.

My favorite film was titled “Lean” by director Kevin O’Neill. In that film, actor Dennis Neil sat in a rocking chair on to porch of a weathered southern cabin. He held a tiny music box and the camera zoomed in o his face as he remembered his past. The flash back scene was saturated white in a southern school room. A pretty girl with blond curls pay full glances back at the boy as they both do their school work. She places the music box on his desk. Later, he is helping her with her homework and their fingers touch above the school book. A storm breaks out and they run outside to dance in the rain. I felt uncomfortable. with a black boy and white girl playing together in the south, things couldn’t end well. The boy sits down in the mud and the girl follows suit. His white shirt and her white dress are soon playfully covered in mud. He reaches out to hold her beautiful curls and then they hold hands. Just then the girls mom drives up and she drags her daughter away. We flash back to the present and Dennis goes inside the cabin and hands the music box to a woman in bed. She looks sick but has the same beautiful blond hair. The moral is that love sees no color. I loved the film.

Other films included a toy car that acted like a caterpillar and built a cocoon to become an airplane, by Ariel Zengotita. A poetic southern travelogue by Logan Anderson, A quirky film about science and perception by Ferio Dismo, and a hot Flamenco dance piece that followed the dancer’sromance, motherhood, and ultimately her husband’ death by Rokaya Mikhailenko.

ODD7 was held at Maxine’s on Shine.

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On January 7th we held the first Orlando Drink and Draw (ODD) event of the new year at Maxine’s on Shine (337 N Shine Ave, Orlando, Florida). Several tables were pushed together in front of the stage and amazingly eight artists filled every single seat. Two couples had heard about the event thanks to the Orlando Weekly. Actually all the artists were new to the experience except Audrey Zinder who runs the Sunday open figure drawing sessions at Crealde. I keep saying I wan to go each week for figure drawing but I’ve made a commitment to keep Sundays “Sketch free” so that I ha a day of rest. the only thing I do on Sundays is put together the week end Top 6 Picks.

I took the waitresses advice on a red wine and ordered muscles as an appetizer and then a full seafood stew. The food was amazing, and, since I was sketching the stage the dinner lingered for hours. I tend to get lost in the sketch for a while and then surface to play host for a bit. I have an ongoing project which is an eternal accordion sketchbook. It is often 2 good way to get new artists a chance to sketch something silly and small. I was quite happy that two writers joined the ODD group on this sketch outing. Janet Benge in a high heel respected author and she has just started doing watercolors. Her charming sketches might someday work their way into a children book. Logan Anderson is y poet who I see quite often at  events in town. He reminds me of an Urban Sketcher because he always has a leather satchel over his shoulder in which he carries his writing supplies. Where I catch a scene using lines and washes, he digs deep into the scene with his words.

Since there were three couples, I suggested that artists face each other and do five minute ruthless portraits of each other. The energy at the table multiplied as they worked, and then there was plenty of laughter when the five minute were up. This is a great was for artists to break the ice. Conversations blossomed. I learned where to find some real talented tattoo artists. I’ve sketched tattoo artists at work before and I am fascinated by the long labor of love. One artist had tried to be a tattoo artist, but the constant buzz of the electric needle caused his hand to go numb. It is sort of like wanting to be a sea captain but finding out you get sea sick.

Nick Landess performed for well over two hours on piano and guitar. I often feel like I’m the only person in a room who truly focuses on the talent that plays live background music in a bar, restaurant or at an event. I’m convinced that I become invisible when I’m sketching. I admire a performer who can work despite all the conversations going on in a room. Once my sketch ass done, I shouted to be heard at the vibrant conversation be the artists at the table. I had more red wines than I should have. A song on the radio on the drive home caused me to pause and remember a  Disney Feature Animation friend, Christine Lawrence Finney, who had died unexpectedly at the age of 47. The evenings frivolity turned to sadness. “Something touched me deep inside, the day the music died.”

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2nd Annual June Bug Poetry Festival Open Mic

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On the first Monday of every month there is a poetry open mic at Tatami Tea and Sake Lounge, (223 West Fairbanks Ave.Winter Park). The event was hosted by Russ Golata. I arrived a bit late and Russ, dressed in a red Avengers T-Shirt, gave me a warm meaty handshake and pointed out the sign in sheet for me. I found a seat at one of the remaining high bar stools and started lightly penciling in a sketch of the first poet. He read a rather long piece about the gears on a bicycle. I didn’t commit to sketching him since I figured he would be done any minute. He finished and there was warm applause. Then he sat in the seat directly in front of me blocking my view. I’m such a dope, I didn’t consider that possibility. I erased all my pencil marks and moved to the Susi bar right next to the stage.

The next reader was Amy Aviles. Apparently Russ had called her while she was making dinner and he insisted she come down to read. I was captivated by the intricate tattoos on her arm. I cursed my short sightedness because I couldn’t make out the word that was inscribed in delicate swirling detail above a male portrait. She read her poems off her iPhone and the relaxed beat and cadence of her poem had the flow of spoken word. Another poet related that there had been a death in her family. She sat on stage and read a poem about living with pride in spite of illness. Her second poem about knowing a man, related the intricacies of a relationship well lived in spite of life’s demands and limitations. It was bitter sweet. A young poet named Logan Anderson read poems filled with youthful angst. His second poem had a musical backup from his iPhone. Curtis Meyer performed with eloquent speed and fervor, his spoken words sparking at lightning speed. I liked his analogy that poets were like super heroes, their observations being their power.

As I left, Russ let me know that I was welcome back anytime. Curtis announced a new poetry event later that evening down on Fairbanks and another author announced she was having a book signing on June 16th from 1PM to 3PM at Stardust Video & Coffee. The room was filled with new faces. With so much going on, it is hard to keep up doing just one sketch a day. Walking back to my car, the rhyme and flow of poets words still rang through my mind. An event like this demands and inspires creative thought. I seem to only have time for the subtle layering of facts. Who could sit at home passively watching TV when there is energy like this around town? Seize the day.