Acoustic Eidolon

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The Timucua White House hosted Joe Scott and Hannah Alkire who are a tour-de-force of acoustic music, described as “World Music for the Soul.” In February 1998, Joe Scott and Hannah Alkire founded Acoustic Eidolon. What began as a musical adventure turned quickly into a life adventure, for both Hannah and Joe. Joe described how he builds his own double-neck guitjo. He described the intricacies of designing and playing this one of a kind instrument. His long impassioned description was followed by, “Oh, yea, Hanna plays a cello. Hanna and everyone else laughed.

It might have been fate or destiny that brought these talents together but this couple from Colorado had a unique and heart felt sound. Hannah told a story about how she checked her cello in with luggage for a United Airlines flight and what she got back was splintered and destroyed. United never accepted responsibility for the damage. Scott wrote Hannah a song called “In Your Cathedral” of condolence for the instrument which she called, her lost voice. It was the first of many love songs. This couple who madebeautiful music together eventually got married on October 14, 2001. Hannah wrote a song called “Hurricane Hannah” that expressed the whirl wind of emotions as she searched to regain her voice. A cello repairman had a large slab of wood that came from the same tree Hannah’s instrument came from. The repaired cello had just as rich a sound when repaired.

Terry, my wife arrived late, but when my sketch was done, she sat beside me and rested her head in my lap.

Cotton Club

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The Cotton Club was a famous night club in Harlem New York that opened during prohibition. The club featured some of the greatest African American entertainers yet it generally denied admission to African Americans. Boxer Jack Johnson first opened the club in 1920. Full Sail students helped convert Full Sail Live into the Cotton Club for the night. Robin Nicole, dressed in a sleek white dress, announced that she was the president of the Full Sail Black Student Union. Cliff, the VP, had a natural gift in keeping the audience charged. When he got on stage he asked everyone to come up front and fill up all the round tables that had been set up in front of the stage. Robin asked for a moment of silence while they showed a video of African American performers who had recently died. Images of Bo Diddly, Don Cornelius, Ertha Kit, James Brown, Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston flickered on the screen.

Then it was time to sing! “Adonis” was the house band that had formed just 2 months prior, consisting of Full Sail students. The music paid tribute to Black History Month. The performances were passable but I wasn’t blown away. After the jazz-themed portion of the evening ended, the Producer’s Guild would transition things into 2012 with a Beat Battle Competition, in which producers went head-to-head with their tracks, allowing the audience to choose the grand prize winner. I didn’t stick around for the battle. I preferred to linger in the nostalgia as I packed up my antiquated art supplies and walked out to the parking lot to head home.

BB King's

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I heard that the 5th Orlando Lindy Exchange was having a free swing dance at BB King’s. BB Kings is in Pointe Orlando on International Drive. Terry and I go to the movie theater in that complex sometimes, so I have seen the club but never been inside. Large primitive folk paintings of music legends decorate the exterior. When I got inside I asked about the swing dancing but was told that the dancing had happened the night before. Rather than leave, I decided to stay and sketch the evening’s live entertainment. It was early, maybe 6pm so, only a few tables were occupied. The host seated me at a counter directly facing the stage, but I decided I wanted an off center angled view of the stage. I took the menu and utensils and moved to the Johnny Cash table in a corner. Each table had a primitive painting of a musical celebrity. Johnny’s face was hidden by the ketchup, mustard and napkins.

Selwyn Birchwood was performing. He had a solid dome of hair and his white outfit stood out in the otherwise dark room. Stage lights illuminated the stage in yellow and magenta. Huss Rodham on bass was silhouetted against the bright blue curtains and I couldn’t see Curtis George on drums. He was hidden behind a piano. Selwyn grew up in Orlando and he performed some original songs about the Florida heat and gators. Most of the music was covers of classic blues, and he shouted out for requests.

I ordered a dish of Pesto pasta and it came out fast. I stuffed fork fulls in my mouth as I worked and when the stage went dark between sets, I ate in earnest. Good food. The Coke buzzed through my veins as I sketched. When the second set started, I pulled out the paints and splashed color on the page. A little girl stood beside me watching my every move. She finally lost interest when her food arrived. Her mom commented on the sketch saying she liked it, then she stood by the stage to shoot a cell phone photo. A waitress expressed interest and asked if I do “faces“. I have been known to draw a face or two.

Parking at Pointe Orlando cost $4. Some electronic ticketing machine barked metallic orders at me until it had my money. Getting out of the garage was a nightmare. As I got ready to back out of my spot, some woman stopped directly behind me waiting for my spot. I ended up doing a ten point turn in the tight quarters and she kept inching closer in her rush to get to the evening’s entertainment. There were no signs for the exit. I drove in circles trying to find my way out with people and cars cutting me off at every turn. I finally decided to drive to the roof of the parking structure figuring I might spot a ramp down with no obstructions. It worked in theory but 15 minutes later, I drove past the parking spot I had struggled to exit. I was in the twilight zone, or a Seinfeld episode. The only signs were those that demanded money. I used my compass to try and steer only towards the north east corner of the parking structure and I sighed with relief when a ramp finally lead me down. As I drove onto Universal Boulevard, I vowed, “Never again, NEVER again.”

Traditional Irish Music Session

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Every other Wednesday, Vicki Gish and Scott Vocca host a Traditional Irish Music Session at Claddagh Cottage Irish Pub (4308 Curry Ford Rd) starting at 7:30pm till whenever. Vicki and Scott are from the band “Crooked Road” and I had recently seen them perform at the Mennello Museum Folk Festival. The bar is a real hole in the wall with dark oak booths, tables and chairs. There is a sign near one table that says, “Reserved for Musicians.” The electric piano was set up and there was an accordion a fiddle and some bows on the tables. A few patrons were eating dinner but everywhere there were tall glasses of dark Guinness.

Natalie Doyle the groups pianist offered me a pint to sip as I sketched. I couldn’t refuse. She explained that the accordion player was Gerry Hanley from Galway, Ireland. She explained that he had given up playing for a while but now he was back into the swing of things. Kathleen Cavanagh on pipes entered a little late and she let everyone know that she had Girl Scout cookies back in her car if anyone was interested. Soon the magical traditional Irish music filled the bar. The musicians closed their eyes as in a reverie and swayed to the beat. The two women having dinner beside me were ecstatic. They had wandered into this hidden gem by chance.

An Irish Session is a gathering of musicians playing traditional Irish music (occasionally including other Celtic genres such as Scottish, Brittany, Cape Breton, and French Canadian) on traditional Irish instruments. Traditional Irish music is made up of dance tunes such as reels, jigs, hornpipes, slides, and a few other miscellaneous forms including polkas, set dances, airs and songs. It is not so much a performance but a sharing of traditional tunes among the musicians and those who care to listen. The instruments might include fiddle, flute, accordion, uilleann pipe, concertina, tenor banjo, whistle (a.k.a. penny whistle, tin whistle), mandolin, bodhrán, guitar, and sometimes piano. An Irish Session is not a “jam session”.

An Irish elder gentleman named Shawn wanted to meet Gerry from Galway. They shook hands and told tales of the homeland for a bit. Then Shawn sat down and began to sing a traditional Irish ballad solo. Scott shushed the room trying to silence the loud talkers at the end of the bar. Then everyone joined in on the chorus singing, “I met her in the garden where the praties grow.” With his second song, I sang along, “Come down from the mountain Katie Daly.” I’m Irish on my mothers side and warmed by the beer and music, I glowed. A woman dropped off a small Teddy bear holding a heart beside the old gentleman singing. When he was finished singing, someone explained, “You have a secret admirer.” The sketch ebbed and flowed with the music taking form almost on it’s own without any second guessing from me. After I drained my Guinness and finished the sketch, I had to go. I needed to start fresh on a new job in the morning. I shouted good night to Natalie and Vicki who stood and shook my hand. I owe these amazing musicians a beer, but I know I’ll be back. If you haven’t been to one of these sessions, you have to go.

Albannach

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I heard a commotion at the other end of the grounds and I headed that way. I grabbed a vanilla ice cream cone since there was no line. The gas powered churn sputtered and the belts shook on the machine making ice cream the old fashioned way. I cut through crowds at the craft vending tents and I finally stood at the top of a large bowl shaped hill. Hundreds and hundreds of people lounged on the hill, some in camping chairs and others seated in the grass. The Music tent was set up at the base of the hill and as Albannach played, children danced.

I stood eating my cone and scanned for a spot I could sketch from. I walked behind the tent where little boys were playing with their dull toy arrows. A woman in a Scottish dress walked back, her breasts hoisted high with a corset. I found a spot right next to the speakers where I leaned back and sketched. Albannach’s music is energetic and sparking full of life. My lines danced quickly full of the music’s energy and drive. Drum sticks twirled and moved with such speed that they were just a blur. There was something primal and raw about the performance. People on the hillside started to dance. Children spun in front of the stage until they became dizzy and fell. A drummer shouted out, “I’m thirsty!” When a woman walked down the hill with a cold pint of beer, the audience applauded.

I was buzzing when the performance was over. I knew that experience could not be topped so I decided to hike back to my truck to get home. I bumped into Sarah Purcer who is now engaged to Marco Bojorquez III. Her step daughter who is maybe 10 years old shook my hand. It was obvious they were having a great family day out. Time to get home.

First Thursdays OMA

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I went to First Thursdays at the Orlando Museum of Art partly on business and partly pleasure. My first stop was the gift shop where I wanted to place the 2012 Calendars. I met with the shop manager, MaryAnn Keane, who loved the calenders and wanted a dozen for the shop. The woman behind the register said she would have to buy one herself. That was easy. I want to get to other shops but just haven’t had the time.

The theme of this First Thursday was sculpture. I had read that an artist was going to be carving a large cake. I searched for him but didn’t see any cake. I considered sketching in the room full of sculptures but the room was packed. I would have been confronted with many backs. Instead, I wandered back towards the music. France Neil was singing a sultry rendition of “Don’t Know Why” by Norah Jones. I love Nora’s sad, sweet longing music. I melted away to the sad lyrics. France has been singing at Disney since 2001 in “The Lion King.” I was tempted to mention my involvement working as an intern on the film but thought better of it. I still get goosebumps anytime I watch the opening sequence, feeling part pride and part joy to have played a small part. Several band members gave me their cards. Mike Bloomer was on the cello and David Capp was on the saxophone. David seemed to be in charge of the band, letting me know that they could add or subtract players depending on the gig.

A young woman and her mom introduced themselves to me. She follows the blog and told me to keep up the good work. I never did see a cake sculptor, but I had to go and find my way to a dance rehearsal across town.

Sharon Hartmann’s Holiday Party

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Chere Force told me about Sharon Hartmann‘s Holiday Party. Chere let me know that there would be plenty of talented musicians and a prime sketch opportunity. I had never met Sharon but Chere said she was someone I had to meet. I crashed the party. The house was in Winter Park near an I-4 overpass. I parked on a quiet side street then hiked to find the house since it was impossible to see house numbers in the dark. Most of the small homes in the neighborhood had small porches. I half expected to see musicians on porch rocking chairs when I arrived. The night air had a chill. Sharon’s home had an imposing flat facade. For some reason it resembled a dentists office to me. Maybe I had the number wrong.

I rang the doorbell and then tried the door knob. It was open. Sharon shouted down the hallway, “Come on in!” A dozen or so people were gathered in the kitchen. I introduced myself to Sharon but I got her name wrong, calling her “Shanon.” I’m such an idiot with names. She asked if I was Irish. I explained that my name was German but my mom was Irish. Though the math is probably more complicated, I consider myself half Irish. I tried a pita chip, dipping in some humus. Whoa! It was hot! I rushed around and quickly poured a sangria. Joe Waller was talking about a young musician he met who could learn how to play any instrument with strings just by picking it up and experimenting. “He could play a banjo and make it sound like an acoustic classical guitar performance.” Joe makes Cheer Wine in his home state of North Carolina. A collage aged girl told him that she and her classmate would hoard Cheer Wine when they found it. One boy confessed he had a picture of Cheer Wine as his desktop on his computer. Joe said it is being sold in Publix now so I have to get me some!

Jubal’s Kin arrived with a crowd. A woman joked with Gailanne Amundsen that it must be cold since Gailanne wasn’t bare foot. There was a feeling of a tight knit family gathering. Folks hugged and caught up. I felt a bit like an outsider but I sensed that once all these talented musicians unpacked their instruments, there would indeed be, “a joyful noise.” In the kitchen, I spoke to Brian Smalley for a while. Brian explained that Orlando is a town whose music is built off the glitter and flash of the tourist trade. For that reason grassroots home spun folk music is rare. If you head up north, people love the honest sounds of acoustic musicians. Most music played downtown at night is about raw volume.

Joe Waller lead the way upstairs to a large family room that had banjos, fiddles and guitars hanging on the walls. The place was like a museum. Chairs were arranged in a circle and slowly musicians made their way upstairs. Two huge bass’s were carried up the narrow stairway. Wednesday Tunes made his way up the stairs in his moccasins and red socks. He was the elder statesman among the musicians and he was treated with reverent respect as he was helped into a leather recliner. His white mustache was waxed and curled like Dali’s. His bow was raised to his fiddle and the music began. There was no sheet music, everyone found the beat and melody and just joined in. Much of the music had ancient Scottish and Irish roots. This music was handed down through the generations. The music was exhilerating, raw, homespun with ancient cultural traditions. It is music that binds people together. It was a joy to sketch as everyone joined in. Mark Brannan played a Bodhran which is an Irish drum made by a good friend that lives in Galway Ireland.

The music continued and I started a second sketch. A group splintered off and started playing outside on a patio. From where I stood I could hear both groups playing. A photographer with a flash wandered everywhere. The light would blind me an when I recovered I’d continue sketching. Terry was going to join me but she ate or drank something downtown that made her sic. A co-worker had to drive her home. She would have enjoyed the music and probably could have joined in. When I was done sketching, I had a great conversation with photographer Jean Guenther Brannen. She didn’t use a flash and she caught some great shots. We talked about how different yet similar our mediums were. It is always fun to compare notes with another observer of life. I hope I can catch more of these impromptu musical gatherings. The sketch opportunities are limitless, and the music exhilarating.

Music at the Morse

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Free music at the Morse Museum (445 North Park Avenue, Winter Park) has become a holiday sketching tradition for me. On select Fridays through April musicians perform, filling the Museum with music. Of course the last time I tried to sketch in the Morse I was asked to stop sketching since I was sketching on a digital tablet. So this time I didn’t bring the tablet. Last time I couldn’t use my artist stool either but I’m an eternal optimist so I brought it along. When I arrived I asked the woman at the reception desk if there was any way for me to get close to the performers. They were high up in a balcony so I hoped I might stand in a hallway up there. The receptionist remembered me from last time. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. There was “No room up there” she explained.

I would have to settle on a long shot sketch. I sat back against a wall next to the entry door and started blocking in the sketch. After several lines a guard approached. “We need this area clear for foot traffic.” he said. “I’m going to have to ask you to move forward to that part of the gallery.” I negotiated to move forward just about five feet next to a table with museum fliers. This spot turned out to be better since fewer people walked in front of me. Of course people stopped at the table for extended periods filling out membership forms. I sketched around them.

A woman approached me. “Great” I thought, “Here comes the Museum Director to ask me to leave.” It was actually Julie Koran. She is a Facebook friend and participates in a monthly event called Dinner and a Conversation. Jennifer Miller organized this event 20 years ago. It is always fun to meet a Facebook friend in person for the first time. She knew of my work and just wanted to say “Hi.” I relaxed. The sketch was going well. The museum guard took a peak and said he liked what I was doing. Shannon Caine who was one of the flutists came down and spoke with me as I was throwing down the final washes. She was gracious and told me about upcoming performances. The other flutists were Kelli, and Mary. The Music for Three Flutes Only was a custom collection by the staff arranger. As I left, the guard held the door for me and said, “Merry Christmas.” My heart warmed. We weren’t working at crossed purposes. Tonight there is the Sweet Sounds of Jazz Trio (flute, guitar and upright bass) from 4pm to 8pm and admission to the museum is free. A perfect, relaxing way to prepare for the New Year.

Lone Wolf

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The next performer at the Jug-ly Art & Antics fundraiser at the Peacock Room was the Lone Wolf. He set up behind a simplified drum set with a megaphone attached to the base drum. He had a harmonica set up with a brace to hold it to his lips. A tin can hung below the harmonica perhaps for added acoustics. His voice was raspy and deep. Something about singing into a megaphone made the vocals seem bad ass. I worked quickly trying to capture him in the dim light. His drum set was bright green and he disappeared into bloody reds. His girlfriend stood directly in front of the stage checking her iPhone occasionally. He called out to her once, to help him find the slide for his guitar. He was the quintessential one man band.

Next on the line up were the Kitschy Kittens Burlesque Troupe. Suddenly the room was jam packed. A thick wide and tall gentleman stood right in front of me. Two slender women dressed in German Tyrolean dresses got on stage. They each got a beer out of a cooler and popped off the caps. They began a seductive dance to a beer song. I only caught a glimpse of the one girl when she moved to stage right. Soon frilly under garments were flying into the crowd. John Theisen kept picking them up and putting them back on stage. The girls began to sway and stagger as they sipped and danced. Before I could close my mouth and put a pencil to the page, it was over. The girls bounded off the stage, their shiny symbol shaped pasties bouncing. They gathered their garments and exited stage left. Perhaps I’ll have a clean line of sight and get a sketch next time.

Another band started to set up their equipment on the small stage. They were all young college kids in stone washed cut up jeans. The Getbye was emblazoned on a drum set. I considered another sketch but decided I had enough eye candy for one night. I headed home. I had started the evening thinking I would sketch the Bloody Jug Band. I will have to catch them another night. Hopefully plenty of money was raised for a Gift for Music and the Crealde School of Art.

Jug-ly Art & Antics

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John Theisen from the Bloody Jug band told me about this fundraising event at the Peacock Room. When I got to the Peacock Room I was fascinated by a phosphorescent blue tree in the main bar area. It would have made a great sketch but I heard music in the back room so I headed that way. The pool room had an exhibit of jugs from all over the country. The art exhibit was inspired by Traditional JUG Bands and the Americana Movement. The jugs were on shelves and with the dim lighting it was hard to see the name plates. I lit them up with my iPhone. Some jugs were already sold as indicated by the red dots. Orlando artist Mike Siedsma had his own wall filled with fanciful face jugs.

On a table there were a dozen or so cigar box guitars for sale. The artist, Jim Mitchell, stressed that cigar box guitars have a long, rich history in American music. He handcrafts each instrument one at a time so he is always open to clients individual needs. People were encouraged to pick up the guitars and try them out. John Theisen pointed out to me that the Bloody Jug Band would be using several in performances later that evening. All Proceeds from art sold that evening went to benefit, A Gift for Music and Crealde School of Art.

GT Springer was on stage performing some lively rock and roll covers. At one point several members of the Bloody Jug Band got on stage to join in on the vocals. Someone shouted “Freebird!” As the guitar gods performed, a washtub single string joined in performing in a green spot light.