It was Cinco de Mayo at Pancho’s Mexican Restaurant, on 436 near 17/92. This was the first time my wife Terry decided to participate in a Brian Feldman performance. She had told me that Brian was a bad influence on me since at times I would sketch his performances very late at night. She changed her tune however after spending an hour eating chips and salsa with him. Brian spent the entire day in the restaurant while a new participant would sit opposite him every hour. There was a video camera set up and masking tape was on the floor marking the active staging area. I grabbed a chip every once in a while as I sketched. I didn’t pay close attention to their conversation but I know Terry was glad to have had the time to sit down and get to know Brian. In this age of virtual friendships it is rare for people to sit down and get to know each other face to face. Even when they do, too much time is spent staring at cell phones. The art of pleasant personal conversation seems all but lost. The restaurant was never very crowded. Terry put on a tiny plastic sombrero for kicks. Brian had hung decorative chili’s strung in the window behind the table. When the next person came in to sit opposite Brian, I ordered a chimichanga for lunch and continued adding watercolor washes to the sketch.
Top 10 Posts of 2010 (As picked by AADW Readers)
The Top Post is…
1. Thor Sketches the Audience With 38% of the votes.
2. 67 Books With 19% of the votes.
3. Two Hearts One Love With 16% of the votes.
4.East Orange Shooting Sports With 16% of the votes.
5. Turned Away from the Holy Land (Again) With 13% of the votes.
6. Boudoir Bombshells With 8% of the votes.
7. FRESH – The Coffee Mound With 5% of the votes.
8. The Artist is Present With 5% of the votes.
9. Triathlon With 5% of the votes.
10. Orlando Improv Festival With 2% of the votes.
11. This wouldn’t be a daily sketch blog if I didn’t include a recent sketch. This one is of the Mounted Police Unit Barn right before the Citrus Bowl Parade. This year I once again rode with the Pooper Scooper Brigade! More to come… Happy New Year.
Going Green the Wong Way
Getting to the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts in Miami was an adventure in battling congested urban traffic. Terry and I followed Elaine Pines who was a native Miami dweller. We hoped to get to downtown Miami from Miami Beach in 45 minutes. There were five accidents as we drove down I-95. Traffic slowed to a crawl. We considered scrubbing the whole theater experience since we were running late. 
Orlando performance artist Brian Feldman was performing in the theater lobby for an hour before Kristina’s Wong’s show. Brian and Kristina had met last summer at Atlantic Center for the Arts in New Smyrna Beach. Terry dropped me off at the theater steps and I jogged inside. I picked up our tickets and then asked the box office assistant where Brian was performing. He looked at me with a blank stare and said, “Brian Feldman? I’m sorry, I don’t recognize the name.” I thanked him anyway and searched the lobby. After I searched in the men’s room (you never know where Brian might perform!), I found him right near the Carnival Studio Theater entrance. Beside him was a 5 gallon gasoline container. Brian lifted the container and took a long drink. Behind him, a large mosaic mural by Cundo Bermudez called “Ways of Performing” decorated the wall. He rested for a bit, coughing between long draughts. The arriving audience patrons that slowly crowded into the lobby never seemed to notice Brian. I, on the other hand, found the image of him sucking down gasoline timely and funny.I knew there wasn’t much time to sketch so I rushed to get lines on the page.
Kristina’s show, Going Green the W0ng Way, directed by Paul Tei, began with an image of Earth projected on a large screen. Hundreds of plastic grocery bags were piled up and toys were lined up along the back of the stage. The show was a no holds barred hilarious experience. She had no problems with self-deprecating humor. Everyone in the audience had a plastic grocery bag on their seat with a water bottle filled with beans that made for a fun alternative to clapping. The first act began with Wong shouting her environmental beliefs into a megaphone to her middle school classmates. She broke into a fast-paced rap that outlined her devotion to Mother Earth.
One of the show’s funniest moments came as she demonstrated the wonders of a reusable tampon called The DivaCup. Her attempts to demonstrate this environmentally friendly product were embarrassingly funny. The story she later told about trying to reduce her carbon footprint by driving a car that ran on vegetable oil was endlessly funny. The car became a money pit, with endless trips to mechanics. She related the inner workings of the LA bus and subway system with so much detail, it became a spoof on how insane the inner workings were. I found it ironic that Terry and I had to battle so much traffic congestion in order to get to the show.
The environmentally friendly messages were driven home with humor. Life’s bittersweet ironies were mined and exposed. The show never missed a beat. I laughed the whole time as I discovered more about Wong and the World she wanted to save. There are two more performances: Saturday, November 20th at 7pm and the same day at 10pm in the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts of Miami-Dade County, Carnival Studio Theater (1300 N. Biscayne Blvd. Miami). Cost is $30-35.
Foul!
It was the opening night season premiere game for the Orlando Magic in the brand spanking new Amway Arena. As I walked toward the venue, two hours early, I saw small crowds of fans dressed in blue and white all along Orange Avenue. Several news helicopters hovered over the city most likely shooting footage of the gathering crowds around the Amway Center. I wasn’t going to sketch the game, I was going to catch Brian Feldman as he read the NBA Rulebook to the crowd. At just about any sports or theatrical event in this town there is always a person on a soapbox shouting hell and damnation to the crowd. Brian’s performance didn’t offer salvation, but enlightenment regarding the rules of the game.
When I arrived, I unfolded my compact artist stool and leaned against a metal pylon getting to work. Brian’s father was using his iPhone to shoot continuous video footage of the reading. The sun set behind a bank of deep blue clouds. Brian shouted the rules into the megaphone. The rules are amazingly repetitive. I thought at first that Brian might be reading the same rule over and over, but listening closely I found the variations in the pattern. Erin Volz in a blue jersey rode up on her bicycle. After listening for a while, she relieved Brian’s dad by taking over the iPhone and shooting video. She remained there listening intently, a true Magic fan.
A policeman approached Brian and the two of them spoke for a while. I couldn’t hear what was said. As Brian got back on his crate, he looked at me and shouted, “Incident!” I started sketching faster adding color to Brian and his dad in case they were told to move along. So far I had escaped detection. A female security officer rode up on a high tech electric tricycle. She spoke to Brian and when he showed her the rulebook, she smiled, laughed then drove off. A third officer, a huge muscular fellow with a motorcycle helmet also approached. He insisted Brian move his crate a foot further west. He said to Brian, “You are blocking pedestrian access to the curb.” He also insisted Brian not use the megaphone. He complied and continued reading and shouted into his cupped hand. I couldn’t hear a thing he read from that point on and I was only ten feet from him. The Center was blasting the insipid commentary from two announcers who were predicting a stellar season for the Magic. The crowd rushed past me growing thicker and louder. I wanted more rules.
I think it was Erin who thought of rolling up a Magic poster, creating a crude paper megaphone. Brian shouted into it, “Thor! Can you hear me?!” The second time he shouted my name, I looked up and gave him a thumbs up. The paper megaphone was only a minor improvement. A couple of times fans paused and listened, never for more than a minute. Perhaps two people ever noticed what I was doing. One woman walked up and said, “Look at you, Mr. etch-a-sketch!” I cringed but gave her the blog address. I finished my sketch long before Brian finished reading the rulebook. I patted Brian’s dad on his shoulder and waved to Brian who continued to read valiantly. I made my way East on Church Street a lone fish swimming against the school of blue and white all heading to the game. My job was done, a slam dunk. Brian said this might be his final Orlando performance in 2010, so something big must be on his horizon. I think route 66 is calling his name.
Theater Tailgate #1
I arrived at the Orlando Shakespeare Theater to find Brian Feldman, Sultana Ali and my wife Terry relaxing in lawn chairs in the parking lot. Sultana’s Nissan Pathfinder had it’s tailgate open exposing her clutter. I noted the clutter, like her Vasque hiking boots and a dinosaur puzzle, since she asked me to neaten things up in the sketch. Brian offered Terry a non-alcoholic drink since she arrived just moments before I did. Brian initiated this tailgate party for “The 39 Steps” which was having its first matinee performance that day. The truck’s stereo was playing a book on tape reading of the John Buchan book the play is based on. I sat in the shade across the way to sketch. Sultana jogged over and put a pirate head eraser on my pencil. Then Matt Simantov arrived with Amanda Chadwick who was hooting and hollering. “Oh Yea! Time for a theater tailgate party! Wooo!”
This tailgate party had been going on since about nine that morning with the actual play starting at two. I arrived for the last hour figuring the largest number of people would be involved right before the show. This is an inspired idea. I’m usually rushing to get to performances on time. In fact, I missed one Fringe performance by being late. It would be so nice to arrive early, socialize and enjoy great conversations with friends at a relaxed tailgate. I hope arts groups around town adopt and expand on the idea, or I hope Brian expands the premise. This idea has a touch of the Fringe about it and its time has come.
Thomas Thorspecken Sketches the Audience
This staged performance, where I sketched an audience at the Orlando Shakespeare Theater, would never have happened if friends I had met over the last year and a half of sketching had not stepped in to help. Aradhana Tiwari invited me to take over the theater for one night and Brian Feldman had the vision for this show close to a year ago. The staging consisted of me sitting in a lone spotlight facing the audience and doing what I do every day – sketch. One video camera shot the sketch I was working on and projected the image on the theater wall behind me, while another camera, operated by Brian, shot footage of the audience just as in a baseball or football game. This would be the first time my work process was ever projected bigger than life for an audience to scrutinize. At leastthree video cameras were recording the proceedings the whole time. This has to be the most documented event I have ever been a part of. The program gave the audience plenty to read and a blank page to sketch if they so liked.
73 of my sketches were hung around the theater clothesline style using fishing line, electrical tape and alligator clips. Ron and Maisy Marrs arrived early and worked tirelessly for over an hour and a half before curtain call. Tommy Wingo handled all the technical aspects of the two video cameras and all the wiring. Evan Miga lent us his digital projector and operated the video camera pointed at my sketch during the whole performance.
At first I envisioned music from “The Illusionist” soundtrack playing the whole time I sketched, but Aradhana and Brian both felt it had too dark and brooding a mood. We agreed to play some Bach performed by Yo-Yo Ma when people entered the theater and looked around at the art. The music was silenced and Brian Feldman walked out into the spotlight to offer an introduction. He mentioned how he and I met over a year ago at the Kerouac House for a performance of his called “txt.” Since that night I have documented over 25 of his performances. When the audience applauded, I walked on stage and took my seat. I couldn’t see a thing with the spotlight in my face, so I grabbed a baseball cap out of my backpack. I was a bit nervous to start and dropped a pen. I had difficulty seeing since the house lights were at half. I called out to the lighting booth, asking if she could raise the lights a bit. When I could see, the sketch started to progress. At first the room was silent, but soon people forgot about the cameras and artist recording the proceedings and the mood lightened. Ashley Gonzalez, Tommy Wingo’s fiance, walked right up on the stage and stood looking over my left shoulder. She whispered the one question I cannot stand into my ear, “Are you an artist?” I laughed and asked, “Did Terry put you up top this?” Clearly she had.
About one hour into the performance, just as I was about to finish up the pen line work, a large group of audience members decided to get up and move to the opposite side of the space so they could be in the sketch a second time. I shouted out “Anarchists!” I placed them the best I could in the new location. Then the watercolors came out and I started to work faster.
People talked and mingled. At times people joked with me and the artist and model exchange became playful. An artist named James Barone wore a kilt and sat in the front row with his wife who held an umbrella. He drew a robotic version of me sketching. Maisy drew all over her questionnaire. What was amazing about this audience as a whole was how much talent was gathered in one room. There were visual artists, authors, poets, dancers, comedians, directors and photographers all mingling in a shared creative experience. It turned out to be a fun way to meet new people while sharing my art. Life as theater, theater as life.
Red Chair Affair – Back Stage
I got to the Bob Car Performing Arts Centre at 5:30 and entered the performers’ door. Inside, a small room was packed full of actors and there was an amazing spread of food. I was sorry I had eaten at home. I wandered through the maze of backstage hallways past all the dressing rooms, in one a guitarist was lightly strumming his guitar. I then found myself on the main stage. The curtains were down and there were row after row of tables set up with red chairs on them. I knew that my goal with this first sketch was to catch Brian Feldman, who was going to be dressed all in red and seated in one of the tiny IKEA red chairs in a performance piece called “I Am a Red Chair.”
I found the empty chair Brian was to sit in by reading all of the silent auction sheets until I found the one with his name on it. Unfortunately, his chair was sort of isolated and off on its own. I had hoped to sketch Brian in the foreground with a line of red chairs marching off into the distance. After walking around his chair and viewing from all angles, I finally decided to sit with my back against the giant main stage curtain and use the chairs on a table next to me as a foreground element in the sketch. The emotional impact of the sketch is much different than originally envisioned, but I like that he seems distant and small, isolated as the party swirls around him. VIPs had paid $225 for the privilege of viewing and bidding on the red chairs as well as sampling food from some of Orlando’s finer restaurants. A gorgeous woman in a tight red dress stood at the table in front of Brian for the longest time. I imagined she must have been arm candy for a rich young bachelor.
Margot Knight walked over to me and asked if I found it difficult to sketch in my suit. I actually did have a problem, since I placed a pen in my fake breast pocket only to find it disappeared inside the suit’s lining. I had to force it out by cutting a hole in the inside lining of my jacket. I also had placed an open pen in my shirt breast pocket and it had bled out into the fabric. Luckily my jacket covered this black wound all night. Director John DiDonna approached me when I was done with my sketch and said he had a place for me to sit on stage right. The tables full of chairs were quickly wheeled off the stage and I kept stepping out of the way of stagehands carrying chairs and tables. John walked past with a couple of chairs saying, “This is my life.”
Brian, however, was still seated. His auction item was twofold – to be a Red Chair, as pictured in this sketch, for two hours at the location of the highest bidder’s choosing, and to work with them, or whoever they named of their behalf in the marketing and creation of their very own performance piece. He said one artist kept coming up to him to see the latest bid. The artist was a bit upset that people were bidding on Brian and not bidding on his art. When the auction ended, Brian had been sold for $80.
John DiDonna pulled me aside and told me I would be in front of the main stage curtain, sitting beside the American flag. I walked on stage and stared out at the several thousand people as they were busy taking their seats. I desperately wanted to face the audience and start sketching, but I decided I should stay on task and get a sketch of the performers. I folded my hands and waited…
Available
For the entire month of August, performance artist Brian Feldman has decided to make himself “Available” to do anything you need help with. Do you need your car washed? Laundry folded? Lawn mowed? Dog walked? Dinner prepared? Someone to go shopping with? Someone to see a movie with? Kids watched? Help crossing the road? Services of the self-proclaimed greatest designated driver of all time? Just fill out the form and he is available for you. It is like hiring a friend to help out for FREE!
One request caught my eye from the start. Karen Cali (KC), a figurative artist, wanted Brian to post nude for her. As KC wrote, “I do charcoal work from the figure and there’s a shortage of male models in general and my money to pay models in particular.” There was a mad flurry of e-mails as this private sketch session was arranged. Several sketch locations were considered and then discarded, including the Mobile Art Show and Blank Space. Since I was having a sketchbook display at Frames Forever & Art Gallery, we finally decided this would be the perfect spot for a quiet Sunday morning sketch session. Katie Windish, who owns the shop, is still offering huge clearance discounts on everything in stock. She even bought in a whole pile of art books, DVDs and other items from home. She had a tiny digital camera that she wanted to sell and before Brian got to the shop we duck taped it to the far wall opposite from where he was going to pose. We made no effort to disguise the camera, we just wanted to see if he would ever notice it. It took him about half an hour, but when he did notice it we all had a good laugh.
KC had bought her own artist sketch bench and a flood lamp. Brian hung a black drape over the windows of the shop door. KC and I dropped our cell phones off in the back room of the shop with Katie. She was busy working on a framing job and wasn’t prepared to see Brian nude, so she stayed hidden. She did stop out when Brian had a break and was in his bathrobe. I showed her my drawing but kept my thumb over the private parts. KC did a great job of posing Brian and reassuring him as he found his pose. He is actually a really good model since many of his performances involve stamina and patience. KC did two drawings and I worked on this blog sketch. The second pose was a standing pose, and offered the full monty. I decided to stick with this sketch where his clenched hands hide his privates. I have a newfound respect for the lengths Brian will go to for the sake of his art.
Digital Salute
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
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.