Patricia Anderson Turner's Fiber Art

Vintage Girl Scout sewing badge

Like many girls, I was a Girl Scout when I was young.  Of course, I was keen to get as many badges as possible to show off my myriad talents.  This era of my life came to a screeching halt when I tried to acquire the sewing badge.   Learning to sew was not one of those things that was on my mother's "to do" list when she was growing up, so sewing was not a skill that came to me naturally.  I have some vague memories of a neighbor trying to teach me how to cut some fabric and hem it on her sewing machine and things going totally haywire.   To this day, I can barely sew on a button.

"Mud Cookies"

Given my total and absolute lack of both artistic talent and sewing capabilities, I am appreciative of the skills of artists who choose natural fibers as the medium for their work.  I visited Common Thread's Fiber Fascination exhibit at the Visual Arts Center in Punta Gorda last week and was amazed at the variety of works and their detail.  While I give credit to all of the artists for their creations, I was particularly taken with the works done by Patricia Anderson Turner.  Her fiber painting entitled "Mud Cookies" literally leaps off the wall.  While I love the work, it was Turner's commentary that gave it real impact.  In Haiti, grain is so scarce that women resort to making "cookies" out of mud, clay, salt, and shortening.  These creations are sold at the markets there as a food product, and many pregnant women rely on these "cookies" for their nutrition.  (Just remember that before you lament the turkey on your holiday table being a bit dry.)  "Mud Cookies" is on sale for $2000, with the net proceeds to go to Doctors Without Borders.  I hope that there's an art collector out there with a social conscience and deep pockets who will acquire this work.

"My One Particular Harbor"

Turner also has a beautiful silk painting in the Abstract exhibit now on at the VAC called, "My One Particular Harbor."  I love the fact that Turner used the gorgeous reds and pinks of a sunrise or sunset rather than the blues typically associated with water.   I can imagine her holding strips of her hand-dyed fabrics up as she watched the setting sun to see if she had captured the colors she was seeking.  When looking at the work up close, I appreciated the craftmanship that went into its creation.  When looking at it from across the room, I was able to really see the harbor and enjoy the view.

Walking through the exhibits at the VAC made me realize once again how many talented people we have in our community.  It's a pleasure to live somewhere that sparks inspiration in all types of artists.  Here's to a new year in which we enjoy the beauty around us.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas

Santa with the truck that he built
(with a little help from his elves, I'm sure!)

And when I say "a lot," I am not kidding.   Last Saturday at bike to breakfast, I heard about some people who had decorated every nook and cranny of their home with Christmas paraphernalia and opened their home to the public.  Since my personal holiday decorating consisted of putting some of my favorite ornaments (and hot chili pepper lights) on my faux palm tree, I thought it might be fun to see a house where people have gone to the other extreme.  My friend Wanda was visiting and on our way home from dinner I suggested a drive by on Rio Lisbo to see if we could figure out what house it was.  We had no problem identifying the house, in part because Santa and his 91-year old elf (Aunt Ruth) were sitting outside on lawn chairs inviting visitors in.

The front of the house is lit up with approximately a zillion lights.  We got to talking with Santa, and he shared that the cost of the wattage was what led him and Mrs. Claus to make their home a community event.  In previous years, people who came by to check out their house offered to throw in a couple of bucks towards their FP&L bill.  Santa and Mrs. Claus weren't interested in offsetting their costs, but when they realized that people were willing to make a donation to see their home, they decided to accept contributions of cash or items such as diapers and cleaning supplies for the Hope Children's Home in Tampa. (Check out http://www.hopechildrenshome.org/ for information about the work the Home does with "discarded, abused, unwanted and orphaned children".)  You've got to love it.

The real show started when we went around to the rear of the house.  Their backyard has several mechanical Christmas features, with my favorite being the hilarious Santa in an outhouse.  (Yes, he does eventually get the door all the way open.)   As we walked up the path, Mrs. Claus was waiting for us.  She welcomed us onto the lanai where the first of six full sized Christmas trees awaited us--the redneck Christmas tree.  The tree is festooned from top to bottom with cans of Spam and Mountain Dew, bags of Cheetos and other favorite snack foods, rabbits' feet, and all sorts of other surprises.  (Did I mention that Santa and Mrs. Claus moved here from Atlanta???)  As Mrs. Claus led us around their home, she told us about both the holiday decor and the fascinating antiques that they've collected.  On a ledge in the lanai is a still that was shot up by the Revenue Service that has been pieced back together.   Its proximity to the redneck Christmas tree cannot be a coincidence.

Each of the trees--large and small--has its own theme.  There's a Victorian tree and a snowman tree and a fishing lure tree and a Nascar tree.  There's a tree loaded with miniature kitchen utensils and a tree with ornaments from when Aunt Ruth the Elf was a child.  Mrs. Claus taught home economics, and there's a tree decorated entirely with pocket handkerchiefs that she sewed.  Some years Santa and Mrs. Claus have been on the road in their RV over Christmas, and they had a travel tree that they decorated with keychain mementos of their journeys.   It's no surprise that this tree made its way from the RV into their den.

You might be getting the impression that the only decorations in the home are Christmas trees.  Wrong!  Their master bath is filled with snowmen, and the bed in Aunt Ruth's room is decorated like a present that she unwraps each night before she goes to sleep.  On your way out the front door, there's a nativity scene made out of chalk figurines that was purchased long ago from Woolworth's.  It is truly a sight to be seen.

One of the most surprising things we heard during our tour was that Santa and Mrs. Claus have only been married since 2006, and that Santa previously lived in a home that was void of Christmas decorations.  I hadn't met Frank and Sue Anne (aka Santa and Mrs. Claus) before that evening so I have no idea what their back story is.   From where I stand, though, it looks like they were destined to be together.   Here's to a holiday filled with generosity and love.

Three Weeks in December by Audrey Schulman

It isn't often that I find myself continuing to think about a book months after I finished reading it.  Even though I'm surrounded by piles of books (yes, physical piles) on my "to read" list, I sometimes struggle to find something to read that keeps me even marginally engaged.  Take, for instance, the books that I've started that have been abandoned on my night stand.  There's The End of Your Life Book Club, a memoir by Will Schwalbe about his mother's battle with cancer and the books they read together during that period.  Despite the good press it's getting, the book is kind of boring. (I feel a bit cold saying that, but it's true.)  There's the lost continent by humorist and travel writer Bill Bryson.  A new friend who I described this blog to said that my approach reminded him of Bryson's writing.  I excitedly went to a book store to check out his work and (despite my friend Althea's other Bryson recommendations) picked up the lost continent, which describes Bryson's journey to find the perfect small American town.  While I love the concept and do enjoy his writing, a small dose of his sarcasm and cynical approach goes a long way.  Where's the joy in his journey?  Then there's the inscribed copy of The Sandcastle Girls by Chris Bohjalian.  (To Nanette--Mount Holyoke rocks!  Thanks for inspiring my favorite heroine.  All the best, Chris Bohjalian.)  The Sandcastle Girls is about a recent graduate from Mount Holyoke (my alma mater, in case you missed that) and her father who travel to Syria in the early 1900s with the Boston-based Friends of Armenia to bring food and medical supplies to the refugees of the Armenian genocide.  I haven't totally given up on this book but it's slow going.

Which brings me to Three Weeks in December.  Althea gave me this book for my birthday and, on first look, I have to admit that it didn't sound like my cup of tea.  It tells the stories--in alternating chapters--of an American engineer who travels to Rwanda at the turn of the 20th century to work with the British to build the railroad and of an American ethnobotanist who travels to Rwanda at the turn of the 21st century to find an obscure plant that has five times the beta-blockers of any other pharmaceutical.  If you know me, you can see that this isn't the type of book that I would immediately gravitate to.  And yet, the more I got into the stories, the more I found myself carving time out of my day to find out what would happen next.

Schulman is clever in the ways that she creates parallels between her two protagonists' lives.  It won't give away too much of the story to tell you that they are both outsiders.  Jeremy, the engineer, is gay and struggles in Victorian America to find his place.  Max, the ethnobotanist, suffers from a severe case of Asperger's syndrome that makes living daily life extremely challenging with its constant social interaction.  Both Jeremy and Max love their work and jump at the opportunity to travel to Rwanda to take on ground-breaking jobs under demanding circumstances.  Neither Jeremy's nor Max's employer has, however, made full disclosure about just how difficult the conditions will be.  

Each of Jeremy's and Max's story could stand alone as an interesting and thought-provoking book.  Weaving their stories together, however, creates a sum that is greater than its parts.  My only critique of the book is that the way in which Schulman creates the connection between the two stories seems highly improbable.   Nonetheless, Three Weeks in December is a great read that has the power to linger with you long after you finish its last words.   If you've been nice this year, maybe Santa will leave a copy for you under your tree.   

Pops! Go the Holidays with the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra

 The Charlotte Symphony Orchestra got an early Christmas present last week-end in the form of guest conductor Matthew Wardell.  Wardell is the second of three conductors who are auditioning for the position of maestro and music director of the CSO.  If the performance of the CSO under his baton and the rapport that he created with the audience at the holiday pops concert are representative of what he would do as maestro, he is formidable competition for the other two candidates

I had the benefit of meeting Wardell the night before the concert at a "meet the maestro" event.  I was instantly engaged by his candor and youthful enthusiasm.  Although he's only 29 years old, he's been the conductor of the Ocala Symphony Orchestra for the past four years.  He admitted to a bit of nerves about conducting another orchestra, but said that he immediately felt comfortable with the CSO.  Wardell acknowledged this apprehension when he introduced himself to the audience, saying that his first rehearsal with the CSO was "like going on a date but you didn't get the chance to talk first."   From my vantage point it looked as if the date went exceedingly well, as the musicians smiled and laughed and played their hearts out throughout the evening.

The concert opened with Holiday Overture arranged by James M. Stephenson III.  The medley was a wonderful way to start as it gave the CSO the opportunity to play a variety of styles of music.  I always love it when the CSO gets the chance to swing, and it did so to perfection in this piece.  Wardell selected pieces with solos for a number of the CSO musicians, and concertmaster Janie Spangler got her chance to shine in the Overture.  As the music died down, Wardell gave the musicians two thumbs up on their performance.

The stand out number of the concert was Stille Nacht arranged by Chip Davis/Mannheim Steamroller.  Wardell introduced this piece with  an explanation of what's involved in being the music director of an orchestra. Earlier in the week there had been an exchange of emails about requirements for the concert.   Wardell was asked if he needed a keyboard for Stille Nacht and responded that he was planning to use the harp to fill in where a keyboard is traditionally used.  It wasn't long before the phone rang with Maestro Wada on the other end of the line.  "Matt, did you know that Stille Nacht is one of my favorite songs?  Are you sure that you don't need a keyboard?  In fact, I thought that you might play."  Wardell was quick to pick up his cue, and he was front and center on the keyboard during the piece.  (I've never seen anyone play an instrument and conduct at the same time, but it worked out nicely.)   In addition to the keyboard, this version of Silent Night calls for an extended cello solo, and Lyle Lamboley did an incredible job.  I don't have the words to describe how beautiful his playing was. At the end of the piece, Wardell said, "Thank you, Lyle  It was a pleasure to play with you," and "bravos" resounded from the floor.

In order to compensate for the lacked of tiered seating in the Event Center, the CSO projects the performance on two big screens that flank the stage.  I always enjoy this feature of the pops concerts as it gives me a chance to get a close up of what is happening onstage.  The videographer did a great job showing the musicians' fingering on the wind instruments, and it was fun to get a better view of what happens in the percussion section.  The cameras also afforded the audience a chance to see Wardell from the same perspective as the musicians, and that was a real treat.  His style is certainly different from Maestro Wada's but they share a visible enjoyment of their craft.

Each piece of music in the concert was enjoyable in its own way.  I found myself tapping my toes to Sleigh Ride and listening raptly to Maestro Wada's narration of Twas the Night Before Christmas.   It was fun to be introduced to some new holiday music, including Alfred Reed's Russian Christmas Music that he composed in a mere six days.  I even sang along (much to my tablemates' dismay, I'm sure) to the Christmas Carol Sing-A-Long arranged by Gordon Munford.  I had a smile on my face from beginning to end of the evening, and I left the concert in a much more festive mood than I'd been in when I arrived.  If only that feeling could be bottled up and sold!   Thanks to Wardell and the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra for getting me in the holiday spirit in style.

Mickalene Thomas at the Brooklyn Museum of Art

Les Trois Femmes Noires

There's something really exciting about discovering an artist whose work you enjoy.  Last year on one of my visits to New York, I tagged along with my friend Wendi while she did her "homework" for the Art of Viewing Art class that she takes at the New School.   Each week the students are given a list of exhibits at galleries and museums that will be the topic of the following week's lecture.  A lot of the art I've seen on our gallery visits has been contemporary in the extreme and makes "modern" art by Rothko or Rauschenberg seem accessible.  Occasionally, though, I've seen things that I've really enjoyed, like an exhibit at the Lehmann Maupin gallery that included the work of Mickalene Thomas.   I loved Thomas' reinvention of Manet's Luncheon on the Grass with three bold fully clothed African American women taking the place of the odd trio of a naked woman and two fully dressed men.  So when Wendi told me that Thomas' first solo exhibit was on at the Brooklyn Museum of Art, a jaunt to Brooklyn was added to my "to do" list for my trip.  (As an aside, at Lehmann Maupin I saw a study for this work that was probably 16" x 20".   The version at the Brooklyn Museum is huge-- 9' x 12'--and even more visually exciting.)  

Detail from Tamika sur une Chaise Lounge avec Monet

I'm happy to report that I liked Thomas' work on this viewing even more than when I saw it last year.   Her paintings grab your attention, not only because of their size but because of her interesting subjects and materials.  Her work is part painting, part collage with her use of acrylic, enamel, and rhinestones.  There's a distinctively funky 1970s feel to her work despite the fact that Thomas was just a kid then.  She says that she is "reinventing those experiences of which I have no memories."

Thomas' work is inspired by a variety of sources, some of which are quite unexpected.  There was a copy of one of the 18 volumes of The Practical Encyclopedia of Good Decorating and Home Improvement (circa 1971) that she liberally borrows from/lampoons in her work.   The second gallery in the exhibit contains rooms that Thomas created with input from her models that often provide the backdrop for her paintings.  The furniture apparently comes from IKEA and Thomas then finds retro fabrics and the pieces are reupholstered to create the vintage feel.  (It's easier to imagine Thomas scouring flea markets on the Lower East Side for this furniture than finding these fabrics at any self-respecting store.)  The books on the coffee table in this room are all references to the struggle of African-Americans:  The Biography of Malcolm X, Roots, and A Raisin in the Sun.

Photography is an important aspect of Thomas' process, and there was an entire wall of photographic studies of the models in different poses and locations that would eventually be incorporated into her work.  A number of Thomas' paintings contain women in the classic Odalisque pose made famous by Ingres.  I don't think it's a coincidence that the most popular definition of "odalisque" comes from the Turkish word meaning slave or concubine.  Again, Thomas turns the traditional on its head by appropriating the image and inserting her powerful black women into the scene.  

I enjoyed the exhibit immensely, and I was not alone.  When we entered the exhibit, a conservative looking older woman dressed in a brown tweed suit was on her cell phone with a friend.  "I'm at the Mickalene Thomas exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of Art, " I overheard her say.  "You have to come see it.  This is exactly the way I want to paint!"   I'm sure that Thomas would join me in saying "More power to you, sister!"  

Chaplin The Musical

It struck me as somewhat ironic to see a play about Charlie Chaplin at a theater in the middle of New York's Times Square, which is anything but silent.  New York is at its busiest during the holiday season, and everywhere I looked there were street musicians and people dressed up as cartoon characters (some Disney connection that was lost on me) and other theatergoers rushing so as not to be late for their shows.  When we entered the calm of the theater, this image of Chaplin was projected on the curtain, and it immediately drew me in.  The opening scene was wonderful.  As the curtain rose and the screen version of Chaplin became smaller and smaller, the image melded into the onstage version of Chaplin atop a tight rope.   It was a promising beginning. 

I always enjoy the incorporation of film into a theatrical production, so it's no surprise that the clips from Chaplin's movies were my favorite part of the show. The play covers virtually all of Chaplin's life, from when he was left at a workhouse as a child to his receipt of the Academy of Motion Picture's Honorary Award, and makes use of his films from start to finish.  We saw--both onstage and on-screen--the introduction of Charlie's iconic tramp in Mabel's Strange Predicament and learned that this persona was created in response to Mack Sennett's threat that Chaplin needed to be funny or he'd be out of a job.  We were shown the relationship between The Kid (which has been preserved in the Library of Congress' National Film Registry) and Charlie's own abandonment as a child when his mother was taken away to a mental hospital.  (Some of these scenes were a bit irritating as the child playing the young Chaplin wailed on and on.  Come on, kid--buck up!)  And we saw a clip from Chaplin's receipt of his Academy Award 20 some years after he'd left the United States. 

The costumes and set for the show deserve mention as well.  In keeping with the theme, they were done in gradations of black and white except in the final scene when Charlie is on the red carpet.  (I have to admit that I didn't actually pay attention to this until Wendi mentioned it to me at intermission.) 

The show had some great numbers.  I particularly liked "The Look-a-Like Contest," which was lots of fun and staged nicely with actors of varying heights.   Jenn Colella, who played gossip columnist Hedda Hopper, has an outstanding voice, and the songs featuring her were among my favorites.   There weren't, however, any numbers that stayed with me after I left the theater.  In fact, I felt in some ways that it was a show that would be a great regional production but that wasn't quite ready for the big time.  I might feel this way in part because the bio for Rob McClure, who played Chaplin, noted that he had originated the role at the La Jolla Playhouse in San Diego.  The La Jolla Playhouse has produced a number of shows that have ended up on Broadway, including "Jersey Boys," "Memphis," and--interestingly--"Peter and the Starcatcher."  A couple of years ago I saw the musical "Bonnie & Clyde" at the Asolo Repertory Theater.  The play was fresh off a run at the La Jolla Playhouse, and I lucked into the performance after which the audience gave feedback to, among others, the guy who wrote the "book" and the composer.  Needless to say, it was quite interesting to hear about the changes that had been made from the La Jolla production to the Asolo production, as well as the audience's thoughts on further improvements.  "Bonnie & Clyde" did make it to Broadway, but had only a four week run.   "Chaplin" has the same feel of a show that's good but won't generate the excitement required for a long Broadway run.  (I also have the benefit of knowing that the show is closing on January 6th, so I'm not going out on a limb by making this statement!)

While "Chaplin The Musical" won't make my theater hit parade, it was well done and interesting enough, and I actually learned a few things.  I had no idea that Chaplin was political and that he'd been banned from the U.S. as a communist nor did I know that he married Eugene O'Neill's daughter Oona.  Who knows?  Those questions might come up in a trivia contest one day and I'll now know the answers!  The show didn't, however, leave me with that magical feeling that moviegoers must have felt when they saw Chaplin on the big screen and that the producers of "Chaplin" must have been hoping for.   Still, it was a treat to see two plays over the course of four days, and a great way to end my New York get-away.  

Dave Barry's Peter Pan Complex

Sometimes the stars just align.    I've been listening to Dave Barry's audio book, "I'll Mature When I'm Dead," which is pretty darn funny and sheds great light into the male perspective on [insert random category here].  On my way to the airport to catch my flight to New York, I enjoyed his rant/essay about the TV phenom that was "24."  In Barry's version, the latest president of the United States is a kangaroo and Jack Bauer has miraculously recovered from being decapitated and bitten by wild boars.  (Really, it's not that much more unrealistic than some of the show's actual plot lines!)

Cut to my first theater experience on this trip--"Peter and the Starcatcher."  I was perusing the program and came upon Dave Barry's name as the co-author (along with Ridley Pearson) of the novel that inspired this hilarious play that my friend Andrea described as equal parts "Wicked" and "The 39 Steps."  What a coincidence!!!

As you probably know, "Wicked" is the prequel to the classic Wizard of Oz and gives us the back story to why the Wicked Witch of the West is so, well, wicked.  (As an aside, I saw "Wicked" last year at the Barbara B. Mann theater and our seats were so high up that I might as well have been watching from outer space.  It was an incredibly disappointing theater experience after years of wanting to see this show.) "Peter and the Starcatcher" tells the story of how the characters in Peter Pan came to be, and it is incredibly clever.  We learn why Peter wants to stay a boy forever and how Captain Hook loses his hand and why the Crocodile ticks like a clock.  We discover the reason for the connection between Wendy and Peter and the lost boys and how Tinkerbell came into existence and how Neverland got its name. I can only imagine what great fun it was for Barry and Pearson to develop these story lines and for playwright Rick Elice to adapt them for the stage.

The comparison to The 39 Steps comes from the incredible creativity in the staging of this play.  Though the show has a couple of musical numbers, it is definitely not a musical.   Nonetheless, I kept thinking how clever the choreography was.  The playbill gives Steven Hoggett a credit for "movement," which is a much more appropriate--if vague--description of what was going on onstage.  I know that it won't make any sense when I tell you that the cast members use a rope to define both space and mood throughout the play, but they do, and it works beautifully.   The play is also somewhat reminiscent of The 39 Steps in its use of puns and one-liners.   Two of my favorites were "no man is an archipelago" and "you're just splitting rabbits."  (I have to admit to a delayed reaction to the latter.)

The cast of the show was wonderful and puts on a true ensemble performance.  I was not familiar with any of the actors (although most have made their requisite appearance on Law and Order).  I didn't mind that the cast had no big names, since having a "star" onstage can lead to my focusing on the actor rather than the story.   Celia Kennan-Bolger plays Molly and was a bit of a stand out, not only because she was the only woman in the cast.  Her relationship with Peter and the other orphans and their on-going dispute as to whether a girl could be the leader of their little troupe was particularly charming.

The one element of the play that I didn't quite get--and that I suspect wasn't in the book--was the homoerotic overtone that came into play both in the casting of a man as Molly's nanny and in Captain Hook's demeanor.  Maybe this was a reference to Michael Jackson's Neverland.  Maybe the playwright thought it would give the play a more adult dimension.  Or maybe it just seemed to fit with Captain Hook's rather campy character.  Whatever the intention was, I didn't feel that it enhanced the story.

"Peter and the Starcatcher" is closing in late January, and I urge anyone who hasn't seen it to do so.  (Discount ticket offers abound!)  If you don't catch it now, the show will be starting a national tour in August, 2013.  I am hoping that Peter and his friends will make a visit to my neck of the woods.  If they do, you can bet that I'll fly right out to get tickets.