journalism, fiction by Brian Tucker

ಯೌಂಗ್ ಮೊಥೆರ್ಸ್ - ೭-ಇಂಚ್ release

2010-06-01T13:04:00.002-04:00

YOUNG MOTHERS
Come On, The Cross b/w Good Swords
7” release limited to 500 copies

Young Mothers’ debut single on Fort Lowell Records is a hearty and fun surprise. The seven incher, pressed on nuclear green vinyl, is a delight. Its a yin and yang of emotion rich in catchy melodies and grounded efficacy. On “Come On, The Cross” the band delivers an atypical pop song that is both feverish and sugar laced. It echoes artists like Matthew Sweet and the monochromatic backbeat of T.Rex. On “Good Swords” the track segues from tender Elliot Smith balladry to guttural vocals the likes of Dave Grohl. It’s a tender song that attacks and heals inside just a few minutes, like sudden rage in the midst of trying to hold back tears. Singer Zachary Bennett Toporek does a lot with small amounts, like ending an uplifting lyric like “So lift up your voice and sing for me” before growling through the rest of his sinewy vocals. It’s a beautiful song that belies genre typing. Toporek pours it on, making the b-side somewhat more engaging and memorable than its counterpart. Young Mothers released Arts & Crafts in 2008 to much acclaim. But these tracks show something interesting on the horizon for the band.

-Brian Tucker

Limited to 500 copies, this 7” vinyl can be purchased at Fort Lowell Records for $5.99 or at Amazon.com. Release date: June 8, 2010

fortlowell@gmail.com
http://fortlowell.blogspot.com/

STRIPMALL ARCHITECTURE

2010-05-24T21:44:00.001-04:00

STRIPMALL ARCHITECTURE
FEATHERONSGS for FACTORY GIRLS

Ryan and Rebecca Coseboom, members of San Francisco’s Halou, craft dreamy and scratchy Casio music on this new release, five songs of multilayered and lofty dreamy pop music that seems to care more about ambiance and emotion than force-fed ideas. In Halou, working with DJ Shadow and Cocteau Twin’s Robin Guthrie, has paid off. On ‘Sing Along, My Children’ its easy to hear the beats ok UNKLE and DJ Shadow tracks from the past. Feathersongs is rich in texture and Rebecca’s singing and spoken word cadence wraps the whole like a pretty, worn blanket. Rebecca has a sinewy, computer and candy coated vocal style that feels unnaturally mirrored to the synth and staccato mechanized beats and melodies on Feathersongs. This music has been worked before – think Portishead by way of PC Kahuna. There’s no slight intended – Stripmall Architecture has delivered something that’s meaningful and memorable, definitely music to be embraced and replayed. ‘There’s Only So Much Light’ is a highlight among the five great tracks here. She sings, “There’s only so much light…There’s only so much love/You take more than your share.” For dreamy pop its saying a lot, while doing it in a way that raises the bar.

The cd/album is part one of a two disc offering. Part 2 will arrive later. Can be purchased on amazon.com for $7.95.

-Brian Tucker

artist Bess Dolin

2008-02-12T17:51:00.000-05:00

from Avenue Magazine July 2006

Bess Dolin is leaving Wilmington for the windy city. There’ll be no more bike rides along Front Street, running into friends sporadically. She’ll continue to do art from her new home in Chicago, creating fine art and producing flyers for bands via her computer and the internet. But one must consider what the new locale will add to her growing artistic palette.
Dolin arrived at the Blue Post via her bike in a long dress and partially curled hair. She’s tall and gracious, brown eyes large and wide. Dolin doesn’t own a cell phone, has an old Wilmington prefix for her home phone. She creates web pages but isn’t a MySpace junkie. (“it’s like advertising for yourself”) There’s an informed innocence about her, you couldn’t push her around but she’d quickly find something to appreciate about you.
She has lived in Wilmington for five or six years. Wilmingtonians may be familiar with her work in a variety of ways. A few years ago she was getting noticed for her colorful and somewhat mad artwork that accompanied band flyers. It was the wonderfully crazed combination of animals interacting as though they were humans that brought attention to such unique work. Though perhaps not for everyone, its originality cannot be denied.
As an artist she has a plus, that her tastes change frequently, a stated concern about becoming stagnant. Dolin has an avid interest in everything, certainly animals. Currently she is fond of foxes and has a tattoo of one on her arm. But everything can be utilized for artistic purposes. While looking on eBay she found some old micro cassettes. She thought about making pins out of them but her boyfriend, photographer Donald Scott, suggested something different.
“He said maybe I could do a diary, suggesting them because they record,” she says. “I thought, that’s a great idea.” The subsequent creations, vastly different from previous work, were micro cassettes mounted on wood at Art Fuel Inc, each suggesting a specific point in Dolin’s life. The series, Timecapsule, was a first, having never done a series of art pieces before. The micro cassettes were decorated one by one and mounted on a stained block of wood with felt and an ornate ribbon ensconced with different dates.

“Each micro cassette suggests a specific point in my life,” Dolin says. Looking over her work there is an apparent evolution, the interests never waning, constantly moving.
Most notable are the bicycles.
Dolin can’t exactly put her finger on it. Not really a love of Americana or nostalgia, although she likes older bikes better, those with more personality, merely something that brings happiness. Recently, a friend went to Amsterdam and brought back scores of pictures of bicycles that she enjoyed.
“I don’t know what it is,” she says. “Some people like cars, furniture. Bicycles, it’s just one of those things.”
Her indecisiveness, and the tendency to go off on tangents, is part of what makes Dolin interesting. Her mind wanders from thought to thought telling engrossing stories and she adds extra words in her sentences, such as really and a lot to reinforce meaning. She’s very enthusiastic about what she means, like an energetic child and in a playful way. Dolin twists words around making them her own. It works in conjunction because there is a playful ferocity to her work, to her very nature.

Talking about the past there’s the evidence of constant change, from moving downtown and eventually giving up reclusiveness to exploring the bar scene only to grow tired of it within a year.
“I moved downtown and came out of my shell,” she explains. “But it’s important that people have time alone, to get comfortable with yourself. If you’re alone with yourself for a long period of time you learn to handle anything.”
But turning twenty-one and living downtown was more than a social situation. After that part of her life calmed down Dolin had a boyfriend who played in a band. It was in high school she made flyers for bands, just to “mess around.”
She started doing flyers for Thunderlip and gained more work from that. People starting knowing who she was and it became a series of six degrees, someone knew someone who knew Dolin and the work grew, sometimes too much work.
“That’s how I started doing that around here,” she says. Currently she is completing the cd cover art and logos for local band Glow in the Dark Scars. The cover has a bear theme going on, continuing the interest in animals.
She considers commission work somewhat frustrating because not everyone knows what they want, or if someone doesn’t have an idea in mind or isn’t about honest about what they want.
The inspiration for the band fliers, she’s not really sure. Dolin is inspired by anything, nothing in particular.
“I like certain animals, right now I’m into foxes, into bears,” she says. Along with the fox tattoo on her arm is a canary she says, pointing and telling of its placement a year ago. There are six total. She points to another saying she got it a few months ago.
“It used to be years between them. I like tattoos a lot, I like tattoo art,” she says.
Her boyfriend Donald Scott has been an inspiration. She’ll look at a picture he has and think I can do something with this. Their meeting was more random than serendipitous. But the burgeoning relationship has seemingly been a welcome addition to her life.
“I was coming out of Blue Post and he was coming in,” she says. Scott appeared during a tumultuous part of Dolin’s life and the two started seeing each other, the relationship moving fast.
Neither Dolin or Scott smoke and citing that the bars can be loud and smoky, she says that they’ll come to a place like the Blue Post and play pool.
“We’re both like old people,” she says. “I like hanging out with people a lot. I did the drinking thing for a year but it gets expensive.”
Dolin enjoys riding bikes around downtown a lot, cruising the strip on Front Street she’ll say with a diminutive laugh.
“We run into people. We ride at night, come down to Water Street or go around Greenfield Lake. If we don’t see anybody we’ll go home,” she says and then pauses for a moment. “I have a job in the morning.”

After high school everyone told Dolin to go to college and she halfheartedly applied to few. At first Dolin was excited about the beach after moving to Wilmington from Chapel Hill but became more of a downtown person gradually, citing that you don’t have to drive. However, on the beach, “it would be nice if you didn’t have all the tourists and parking is a pain, it keeps going up. They need transportation that goes to and from for people.”
A few trips to Myrtle Beach led to an unfavorable opinion about over-commercialism. She’s not about to be down on someone for what they like but places such as Myrtle Beach are not high on a list of places to visit. The busy lanes of traffic, the mall-like atmosphere and the neon nightmare that blares from both sides of the street are enough to make wearing sunglasses at night a must.
“I don’t know what it is about Myrtle Beach but I just don’t like it,” she says. “Guys yelling at you when you walk down the street, following you around.”
Moving downtown provided an advantage such as making a car unnecessary save for going to work. Dolin enjoyed growing up in the country, Chapel Hill, but there’s not as much to do. Upon first moving to Wilmington it was hard to find a job.
“I didn’t have much experience in retail or waitressing.” She’d go to apply and never had enough experience. “How will I get experience if no one hires me,” she says with some frustration. Dolin clenches her fists and shakes her arms slightly, not angrily, but sort of like a child trying to repress anger.
Wilmington is the biggest city Dolin’s ever lived in. She appreciates that it’s a small town, that you can run into people, whether working for or against you.
“I’m not really a phone person, I like running into people I want to run into,” she says. “I don’t really have anyone’s phone numbers.”
Originally from West Virginia, Dolin and her mother moved to Raleigh as a child, which she remembers little of, and then to Chapel Hill.

She doesn’t know much about her father, her parents having been divorced early on. She does know that her father played music and her mother was a writer.
“I have no musical talent at all. I’m too crazy about punctuation and grammar,” she says. “My mother does draw some but isn’t into the visual art aspect. My mom does web page design. I do web page design. I grew up with it. We always had a computer in the house.”
Dolin used to only like drawing, never getting into sculpture or painting. The only schooling she has is at Cape Fear where one teacher would pass judgment on her work.
“When I paint I like to do smooth detail oriented painting. She’d always get on me because it wasn’t painterly looking,” Dolin says.
Dolin explains that she can see how it helps some people, but art is something she doesn’t believe can be taught.
“You have a natural knack for it. I’m not a big fan of abstract or anime, not a huge fan. If I were to be an art teacher I’d tend to lean to or be favorable of fine art instead of cartoons. But I don’t want a teacher forcing their sensibilities on me. I’d rather not have my stuff graded. One teacher was accepting of everyone’s art, didn’t judge on what he liked, accepted everyone’s interpretation. Plus school’s really expensive.”
Hanging out with artists and picking up on their techniques is a way to gain knowledge about art. Dolin tends to like details, and really simple stuff as well. She points to the wall in front of us, a brick wall partially covered in concrete to cover holes, possibly. On a large pipe to the right high up in the corner is a black Sharpie portrait of a man resembling Jesus.
“That would good in black and white,” she says. “Because of the texture.”
Some photos look good in black and white, depending on the photo, some look better in color. Dolin appreciates how colors come together yet notes black and white focuses more on the subject. The indecisiveness seems to work in her favor, having a strong interest in both.
A new facet to her life is to be the subject of Scott’s photography. It’s a strange experience because she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. Scott is good about providing direction. At the age of seven she remembers wanting to be a model, imagining how great it would be. Dolin’s mother was a tomboy, a sweatpants, sneakers kind of woman. She took Dolin to an audition but it was a scam.
“They said, ‘pay us all this money and we’ll turn you into a model,” she says with added punctuation. “My mom said hell no and I was so mad but then I forgot about it.”
In public school she felt awkward about herself, saying that she’s always felt awkward, because of her height. She’s admittedly clumsy, perhaps coming along with the territory of being tall. Dolin is self deprecating about it though.
“I knock stuff over, beat Donald up totally by accident all the time,” she laughs. “You’d think I’d get a hold of it by now. I haven’t grown anymore.”
Thrust into being a subject of photos and ads Scott shoots for Edge of Urge, Dolin is quite simple about it, stating that if it wasn’t Scott taking the pictures she wouldn’t do it ordinarily. But the photos are rich in color and Scott gets images with Dolin that others probably couldn’t get, photos that encompass playfulness, inordinate colors, style and Dolin’s classic beauty. Scott sees something and is very supportive of Dolin, makes her feel good about herself and it shows in the shots.
“With him I’m so comfortable,” she says. “He shot me on bicycles and that wasn’t hard at all.”
She’s humble about looking at the photos, mentioning that its not really her at the center but the photo itself. She doesn’t see herself but the overall result, that some of them turn out horrible and some are really good. A model would see something else perhaps but as an artist she sees more than herself.
“If I’m changing positions they turn out the best, there are ones with movement… I like the ones with movement the best.”

The month of June has been about packing and saying and enjoying as much she can of her home for last five or so years. There are things to miss but much to look forward to in Chicago, making art and doing work for bands. Dolin doesn’t plan to advertise, she’s quite frugal admittedly so and may try school again. Scott will continue photography. The city will be beneficial for Dolin and her art, a continued artistic growth.
But moving to Chicago in July isn’t a big deal for Dolin. She says she’s pretty easy going about things and that Scott’s been in Wilmington for a long time. He’s wanted to move to Chicago for a while and has family there.
She doesn’t suffer from delusions, knows she’ll have to have a day job. She’s going to work towards supporting herself through art, aware that it’s hard to do, not minding art as a side thing as long as she can do it.
“If I couldn’t do art I couldn’t do anything.”
Things are hectic with packing and preparing to move. Dolin wants to get back into going to shows, shooting photography, looking forward to digital because the ease of it, no darkrooms.
For some, digital photography, makes the art less special because of the easy access to technology. Dolin prefers it to some extent.
“Art should be something that you want to do, to do for your self. It does take a certain eye, a certain something to take pictures. But there’s so much out there. It’s a love hate thing.”

www.whenbessattacks.com

BAND TOGETHER MUSIC FESTIVAL 2006

2008-02-12T17:50:00.000-05:00

from Avenue Magazine July 2006

Wilmington’s Sai Collins and the Getaway Drivers were invited to play on the bill with a day’s worth of musicians varying in styles, hip-hop, blues, acoustic folk and rock. The Getaway Drivers includes Eric Vithalani on bass guitar and percussion and Dan Maggio on drums. The band takes two vehicles to Band Together in Maryland bringing several friends as long as well, Kristy, Marc, Jayson, Jill and I. Jayson, having become friends with the band from attending performances, will unofficially be part roadie, part photographer and mutual support.
Eric says this is a large show for them to play, at least in its conception. He recounts a story of paying for a metal band long ago where their first show was in a dive.
“It was a strip joint where they put plywood on top of pool tables and ugly chicks danced on top.”
In lieu of cigarettes and stopping to smoke Jayson chews on Slim Jim’s whose smell waifs through the car piercing our conversation. He switches to Fruit Roll Ups, which in all honesty, I thought weren’t made anymore. Somewhere in Virginia, off exit 31, we stop for gas and a stretch. Phone calls are made, bad food purchased and everyone notices the strange skies, expressing concern for the festival.
Kristy steps out of the van and asks who wants snacks. She will have several new names by the weekend’s end, one of which will be Snack Queen, for she always has something to nibble on, from roll-ups to Peanuts Gummi Bears.
The drive to Damascus seemingly takes little time, the six hours pass easily over conversation. Sai’s phone rings a lot, the two vehicles communicating along the road, from event planners and from the friends we will meet with soon. Jayson and Sai navigate effectively with instructions from the Internet, down to the mile. Road trips have been rendered efficient and their surprises lessened. The only surprises left are the people you encounter at pit stops where the counter workers are at ease, always ready to get off work yet the travelers are worn and weary.

In Damascus, everyone hangs at Shari’s second floor apartment arriving not long after the sun recedes. The floors are hardwood and shoes and flip flops pile up near her apartment door. It seems we from North Carolina are the only ones wearing flip flops. We are referred to as surfer and hippie folk. But I think we are somewhere in between.
Sai catches up with Shari and Elsa, sitting on the couch, taking pictures and hugging one another.
The apartment walls are different colors and the decorations elegant. A high wall is painted with texture and Shari says you can see god or Jesus in the texture. Some see it and some do not. Everyone relaxes; some go onto the porch to smoke. The air out is muggy and cool. The porch is small but soon grows crowded.
It isn’t long before Sai, Eric and Dan play music in Shari’s living room. More people begin to come over. Cell phone conversations consist of bring beer and bring alcohol and that Sai is playing. A cast of characters filter into the apartment, a vibrant assortment of life. Choppy Chope steps onto the porch with a wooden cane and Mohawk.
“That’s right, a black man with a Mohawk is on the porch,” he says deadpan looking like Fishbone. He introduces himself to everyone, a local performer and music producer. It quickly becomes evident that Shari has a varied list of friends. She is a delightful host, moving around to everyone. From time to time she comes out to the porch to see how we are and always says something funny, says her neighbors don’t like her because of her parties and that she doesn’t really care. Her energy is infectious and something to be admired. It rivals her generosity. People collect in her back bedroom to smoke and plays Choppy Chope’s cd of music whish is a mellow blend of beats
and ambiance.
The band continues to play an acoustic set in Shari’s living room, improvising and playing their songs or the occasional cover. One of which, ‘Simple Man,’ is a polar opposite of the one Lynyrd Skynyrd made famous. The band slows it down, fleshing it out acoustically with both Dan and Eric on percussion and Sai’s deep vocals bringing it together.

Outside the sky falls apart, raining like torrential downpour found only in the likes of Columbia, South America. It starts and then grows stronger and stronger. The rain is severe enough to set off a car alarm that never ceases. The loud ringing has no effect on the residents and continues until the battery grows weak and then less audible. More people pile onto the porch to which Shari expresses faux concern over the weight, laughs and returns inside.
Just after midnight the rain stops suddenly and the car alarm has finally given out. It quickly feels cooler and less muggy, a good sign for Saturday’s show. Elsa explains that people in Maryland are finicky, that they tend to stay at home with onset of inclement weather.
Shari offers to let us sleep over but there isn’t enough room for the eight of us. Sometime after one in the morning we return to our vehicles and follow Elsa to her town home a few miles away. She has a room in her three story town home. We will sleep in her basement/living room where a ping pong takes up much of the floor.
After settling in we turn on the big screen television to check the weather for Saturday. According to the newscast the day is to be clear and devoid of rain. A welcome sign given what we sat through less than an hour ago.

Cobblers Knoll is a hundred acres of private land in Damascus, Maryland and the location of Band Together, a concert held June 3rd, 2006, organized by the president of Edge International, Siobhan Downs. She is the owner of Cobbler’s Knoll and has planned something along the lines of a modern Woodstock utilizing local music to raise awareness and funds for social and economic problems here and abroad concerning domestic violence and the needs of children living in developing countries.
A long winding stretch of road cuts a path finding it’s to way those hundred acres of land. Trees have not been cut for a long time, curling over the aged asphalt forming a nearly natural roof to which vehicles pass under. The stretch of road is evidence of a neighborhood pleased not to mature into the modern age.
There are signs along the road about snow routes, a reminder of a harsher season. Hand painted signs that read Band Together 2006 adorn poles and old farm equipment pointing attendees to the event. These signs foreshadow the homegrown, hand made feel to the event.
A tall shirtless young man points the way in, smiling with a shovel across his shoulder. The sky is still grey and the morning is cool and slightly wet. The skies are a reminder of the massive rain storm from the night before. We pass a two story blue house in the center of the property and there are large tie-dyed sheets hanging on a small building and clotheslines.
We park at the rear of the field behind Stage B, the ‘rock’ stage. It’s early, and the clouds blanket the sky leaving everyone a little chilled, still not awake completely. A blues based band plays to an early and light crowd just after noon. Jayson and I finish our egg and cheese sandwiches picked from a local eatery. Sai gets on the phone to contact event coordinators and find out the band’s time slot.
Everyone builds their tents, some going up fast and some require extra effort. You hear things like, what’s this pole for or you got an extra stake? I just bent mine. Dan throws up the mansion of tents. It has four rooms and shaped like four igloos connected to one another. It’s ridiculously huge, white and light blue in color.
There is a feeling of community; of common ground to everyone we come into contact with. Everyone is respectful and courteous. The workers have shirts that say Band Together on front of yellow and red shirts and read FAMILY across the back. People wave and smile to everyone they don’t know.
Living in an area where strip malls are plentiful and apartment complexes dominate our general neighborhoods it takes time to digest the massive amount of land that surrounds us. There is green grass that fills our field of vision, for as far as we can see, surrounded by tress and a ceiling of blue sky scattered with grey and white cottony clouds. And there is another stretch of land entirely on the opposite side of Siobhan’s home.
The vastness gives reason to breath, relax and want to never erect another building if it was possible. Just a few miles away from this property lays the concrete and steel, the strip malls dependent on energy and asphalt littered with cars. Here are people, and music, open land and port-o-johns. For the next day we will feel content to be lost in a field, free from contemporary appliances and noise other than music.

Music is planned for the entire day, noon to midnight. Bands from all over attend. Damascus’ own, Soup’s Uncle and Diacritical from Virginia. The Natural Breakdown is from New Jersey. Sets are typically forty five minutes. As soon as one band finishes another is rushing to get set up.
One of the event coordinators, John, is in charge of getting everyone to the stage. He approaches Eric who is sitting on a lawn chair far behind the stage near the tents and says that their band is supposed to go on in ten minutes.
“We were told five o’clock,” Eric explains. John apologizes and says there was a mistake. Eric immediately gets on the phone to find Sai. “Hey, they want us to go on now. You need to get over here.”
Initially the band was to play a slightly longer set because another had to cancel, but now their set has been adjusted. It is unclear what happened but irrelevant now because John keeps pushing to get them onstage. John keeps apologizing and remarks about going faster to which someone says, it can’t go any faster.
The band gets onstage and Sai makes changes to his guitar. The band works through familiar numbers such as ‘Shawna’s Star,’ ‘Scarlet Butterfly’ and ‘Worth the Drive.’ Sai is passionate in his delivery, even after singing these songs so many times. He regales each one with a brief story about them, that one is for a friend he was close to and their effect on his life and another about driving all night to surf.
The most engaging number, ‘Sober Me,’ in which the chorus ends with a lion’s yell of this song is not about war! In a time where much public protest is focused on the justifiable concern over our country at war the song is about needs that are sometimes forgotten, unprotected sex and pregnancy, hunger, domestic violence and education. Sai intersperses part of Bob Marley’s ‘No Woman No Cry’ towards the end to grand effect. The set ends and Sai thanks the audience and mentions the importance of awareness and events such as Band Together.
Sai’s friend, Asia, has driven down from New Jersey for the show and takes the opportunity to shoot photos of the band in a field of tall straw grass as the sun sets. They play impromptu songs on a djimbe drum and tambourine.
Bands that follow are just as engaging. The Natural Breakdown follows with their mix of jam band hippie rock, soul and a guitarist that burns through songs like Stevie Ray Vaughn. He will occasionally look out to the crowd, seemingly shy and covered in a black beard and lengthy dreads. They have their own message to spread as well.

“You will not know unity until you know there’s no difference between you and me” the singer belts out as the final chorus. “The revolution is not physical,” he says over and over. His vocals are like recent years Van Morrison but more soulful and melodic.
The band plays the type of music that disintegrates spine and muscle, creating a looseness that people will spontaneously dance and swirl to. The music is a surprise, mixing that positive, hippie vibe with music that absolutely cooks when played live.
The sun sets on the band as they close the set. While departing they are asked to play a little longer to which they do. The band returns, proceeding with the encore, three additional tunes, and everyone is pleased.
A guy dancing in front of the stage does a front somersault landing flat on his back. He lies still, breathing rhythmically. He doesn’t move and people stare, their eyes diverting from the fallen guy and back to the stage. His girlfriend, perceived as his girlfriend, comes over and touches both of her hands on both sides of his face. She smiles as he smiles, his red face matching his red shirt.
As the set finishes we return to the tent area at the rear of the woods behind of the stage. Dan comes away from the van with a Bud box and Eric starts in on a package of Oreo’s and then crawls in his tent for a power nap. It is quiet and relaxing there, a welcome crowd of friends and new friends. Pablo and Amy have come down from the Bronx to hang for the day.
I sit in a tent cooling off from the heat now that the sun is out and warming everything up. I reach into a large bag of peanut M & M’s and talk about traveling with Jill. She has lived around the world as a teacher. There is a heavy band playing in the background, part Alice in Chains, part Mad Season. They’re heavy without wearing out the crowd.

The next band, Soup’s Uncle, take the stage as night takes over. We step outside after they begin the first song. Like Natural Breakdown, there is looseness to their sound, more groove heavy in places, a sludgy Black Crowes crossed with Phish.
Their singer, slightly heavy set, plays guitar and pushes out vocals that shouldn’t come form him. He has curly dark hair and a goatee that makes him look like a cult leader, but his delivery is sanguine and subtle. He is part Canned Heat, part Bob Weir, vocally. And he blisters on the guitar, trading seemingly cold looks at the bass player whose long hair flops back and forth. They are from Damascus and the skinny shirtless guy from the event entrance used to be their drummer.
“I quit cause I knew I wasn’t good enough,” he says. “I told ‘em, I know a better drummer.” He is an avid supporter, hands out free cd’s to the audience.
They close their set with two covers, ‘Beautiful Disaster’ which sounds better than the original and ‘Bulls on Parade’ which comes off almost note perfect. The singer gets Zack Delaroacha’s vocal inflections down.

It gets cooler, cold for most wearing shorts and flip flops. People break out long shirts and pants, socks and shoes. I have come unprepared, not thinking that the night would get this cold. So out come blankets and sleeping bags. There are no lights around the field, only the glow from festival workers’ flashlights and headlights on vehicles from ATV four by fours used to travel across the acreage. The stage is a beacon of light amongst all this open land. Everything else is black as night, the ability to only see a few feet in front of you and the vague distance. The generator for the stage runs quietly, powering stage lights and music equipment.
In the band area, deep behind the stage, people have collected. There are chairs and blankets. Jill and I rest flat on a blanket and under a sleeping bag. The stars burn small like flashlights far away in the night sky. Their dim light pinches the dark blue sky, a half moon sliver floats just left of center. Everything in sight has the heavy glow of dark blue. The ground is dark, the grass barely visible, yet the very same dark blue. Skin and hair appears a shade of black and blue. A red sleeping bag is purple.
Just in front of us sits Asia’s car, blocking out the bright lights of the stage perfectly. The light is blocked almost entirely and what light available slips around the shape of the car, splintering through the windows, glowing like something unseen and approaching. I am reminded of a scene in Close Encounters where the spaceships are imminent from below a hilltop road, the light reaching upon the seekers.
Intermittently lightning bugs glow in the distance, and in the sky above us the sharp glow of lightning bugs falsely appears as a shooting star.
There is the smell of smoke, of firewood. A small stream of it moves across the sky.
We turn around to see that Snack Queen started a fire with Marc. Marc cut thick limbs and is laying them in as Snack Queen works to get the fire going. She is persistent, determined and successful. So her name changes to Fire Goddess. The timing couldn’t be better for it has grown colder and the dew has made everything feel wrong. The smell of the fire is soothing and brings extra light to the darkened field. The fire brings others around. Sai returns with a girl but they leave again to check out a group at the hip-hop stage.
The fire burns long enough for everyone to enjoy and get used to before the Yellow Shirts arrive, part of the Peace Patrol, security. They’re cool about it, asking us to extinguish the fire but keep on talking about it, almost talking down, explaining how fires can’t be within a hundred feet of the tree line or something. This irritates Dan who sarcastically says something about how they can leave now. They stay longer. I believe they just want to hang out, enjoy the fire, but eventually leave.
Regretfully the fire is extinguished and it gets cold again fast. It’s as if we were shown paradise for fifteen minutes and someone burned it down. Back under the blankets for warmth. The smell of the fire gone out is an unhappy reminder. Sai returns later and says that it’s okay to have a fire because there’s one up by Siobhan’s house. So another fire is struck and fresh wood is cut and torn hurriedly from limbs. It hasn’t burned long before Eric comes back and says that a volunteer fire department truck is on the premises. We can see their truck rolling in the distance, headlights on the prowl. This being more serious than the Peace patrollers, we pour water quickly on the fire. There’s not enough so Eric pisses on the fire. It goes out and we can see the volunteer truck driving around trying to locate the fire. They circle, stop as though searching, and then drive away.
Everyone decides to walk down to the house where a large bonfire is going in a pit with large tree logs. A half drunken guy in a white T-shirt stands next to the pit holding a blue Solo cup. He doesn’t say much and motions for people to move. He does it so carefully that it appears he’s eyeing a fight. People move back and he tosses the contents of the cup on the fire and it explodes upwards with a burst of flame like a mushroom cloud. A wall of heat moves away from the fire and a trail of fluid falls outside the pit into the dirt. Someone comes over and stamps it out.
A large group of people circle the fire, staying warm, drinking beer and smoking. The sound of djimbe drums all around, people laughing, people coughing, the smell of smoke fresh in the air.
Some have drums and guitars. On the other side of the fire a group of people begin playing music, tribal and rhythmic. I can barely see them, the wisp of fire flames casting enough light and movement that the players seem like ghosts in the near distance. Their playing and movement appears animalistic, slowly in sync with the music. They make up songs, creating within the moment. It calls to mind what life what must have been like before so much technology, people getting together for comfort of one another, for the love of music.
The music constantly changes from song to song. The last I remember them playing was an old Stone Temple Pilots song, ‘Plush’, and it sounded wholly different. If only someone was there to record it besides the recorder in my brain.

Marc, Kristy, Jill and I retreat into the blackened field, walking quickly to stay warm. The sound of the music at the bonfire is still present in the night. It can be heard all the way back to the tents. Marc and Fire Goddess starts up a third fire and we all sit nearby for a while until feeling tired brings the night to a close. I don’t know if Siobhan is happy with the result of her gathering. She’s been inside most of the day. It’s a good idea. There’s another concert planned for September. There need to be more shows, things that aid problems that can’t always be solved through bureaucracy, events that pull awareness out of the black.

Band Together

cd review - The Quarter After

2008-02-12T16:53:00.000-05:00

Hailing from Los Angeles, The Quarter After’s new release Changes Near, echoes a period of music reaching back forty years or so, of bands like The Byrds and The Grateful Dead, who embraced rock guitar and complimented it with sky high harmonies and gentle, wispy vocals.
Lead singer Dominic Campanella alternates vocally, from even keeled vocals on ‘Sempre Avanti’ and ‘Early Morning Rider’ to what sounds like Tom Petty’s brother on ‘Turning Away’ and ‘See How Good It Feels’ – that song’s heart built around mid-west rock and roll. Dominic’s vocals twist and turn, nasally and velvet smooth all at once. The denouement of the track is guitar groaning coupled with soothing chorus that flitters away with the trickle of piano notes. ‘Counting the Score’ is a kicking country number, one that would make The Grateful Dead appreciative.
But while there’s a sweet (and obvious) laid back appeal to the album, there’s the specter of ghosts, of something elusive and perhaps mysterious to material on Changes Near. It breaks beautifully through the surface on ‘Nothing out of Something’ in which the band channels Broken Arrow era Neil Young and Crazy Horse with its moodiness and rusted surface guitar groans. ‘Winter Song’ is tempered, and patient, but is paced as if something is about burst free – perhaps its created by Miles Shrewsbury on the Tablas or Andy Campanella using something as simple (and perfect) as an egg shaker to lace the song.
The album doesn’t drown in folk rock, it may be the foundation, but there’s much boiling to the surface in varied flavors. From the trumpets on ‘Early Morning Rider’ to handclaps and jingle bells, The Quarter After mine anything as a instrument to craft a layered musical landscape. The majority of Changes Near is blanketed with a dreamy quality and it soars, echoing not just the past but the springtime escapades of future days.

from Bootleg Magazine March 2007

FLATTERY FOR A WEEKEND IN CHARLOTTESVILLE

2008-01-29T22:10:00.000-05:00

from Avenue Magazine June 2006

Joe Van Dyke’s birthday is Cinco de Mayo and every year he celebrates by having a pig roast. This year was the seventh and held once again in Charlottesville, Virginia,. Friends come from all over to celebrate and the party gets bigger every year. Around Charlottesville he hands out flyers and there’s a website, eatapig.com, that basically has the name and a Mapquest link.
Cody, Eric and I leave early Friday morning to attend with plenty of rain to follow for the five hour drive. We stop several times and drive hard through the heavy rain, rain that spirals off eighteen wheels like miniature storms. There are wrecks, blue flashing lights from state troopers and red tail lights, all blending together to appear purple from afar. There numerous wrecks, cars ripped open as if by a giant monster. Their destruction, while repugnant, is terribly beautiful.
Cody decides to play a letter game, in which you look for a word on a sign that starts with A and then you proceed to B and so on. It’s a great way to pass the time but a way to end up on the side of the road mangled. But he and I play competitively, finding letters in words written on vehicles, restaurant and hotel signs, bumper stickers and license plates. The hardest letters are Q (look for Dairy Queen or Quality Inn’s) and of course X. The game goes on quietly for a t least thirty minutes trying to find that elusive X. An eighteen wheeler carrying cars slides past and Cody searches the cars and their license plates. He lucks out because I’m watching the road. He eventually wins finding words for the letters, Y and Z. I am still trying to find my X.
Just inside of Charlottesville, moments before reaching Shamrock Road, the rain stopped. The streets glisten, the weather cool. The strangeness of it sets a tone for the rest of the weekend. Cody drives around, feeling his way to Joe’s house. Cody hasn’t been back to Charlottesville for some time now but remembers much and points out places where he knew people and girls dated. He drives through an area and says here’s the ghetto and two seconds later he says that was it. After a few wrong turns we get to Joe’s house.

Joe’s black hair juts from under the straw hat and he has a clever, cheerful smile. He sits comfortably in a Hawaiian button down shirt and a festive straw hat behind a homemade bar. The bar is located at the base of a hill that is his backyard and his laptop plays music through speakers in the window. Many homes in Charlottesville are built into the side of hills and the streets climb up and down adding a specific quality to an already attractive town where old world sensibilities meet the new.
After Cody catches up with Joe we walk to wait for the free trolley. We walk up a street only to be stuck by a train that is slowing down. It finally stops, taking as long as a ship in the wide ocean, and we climb across it like hobos. We catch the trolley that will take us to Fridays After Five downtown where a band plays every week and the downtown area is blocked off and people arrive after work to hear music, drink and meet people. It’s there we meet Jim, who’ll be cooking for the pig roast, and The Mayor, because he seems to know everyone, and Melanie, who’ll be singing for kids at a Catholic church very early in the morning, and Heather who we’ll find out is waiting on a phone call from her man in Richmond, and Big Jason who is the biggest kid you could ever meet, soft spoken and friendly, and several others that escape memory now. The atmosphere is that of a tiny festival, as if the town is aware that Joe’s throwing the pig roast but actually is the vibe of the town. People we see and meet are individuals, diverse and friendly. It grows dark quickly and the lights cast a purple shade over the locale. Everyone agrees to move on to somewhere else.
South Street Bar makes their own beer and it’s more than good. The bar is loud from conversation, music is played very low if at all. The wooden design accompanied by brick walls seems like a cross between a Tatami room and a fireplace. It’s elegant and comfortable. Cody sees a crooked painting on the brick wall behind the bar and wants to straighten it but the bar is crowded, hard to get a bartender. It’s killing me he says. He shares war stories of bartending with Joe at the Wild Wing Café in Charlottesville several years ago. Everyone knows Joe, likes and respects him. When he leaves in November it seems as though the area will be losing something. He seems the center of something in everyone’s lives. Heather and Melanie show up after visiting friends at another bar. They share a story about silly pick up lines and how to measure up a guy, if you know what I mean. We all exchange some dark humor and remind Heather about her late night rendezvous. Melanie promises to sing at the pig roast for us.

Joe suggests a pub crawl that will unknowingly get aborted. First stop is West Main where Zoe pours four shots of Jager who sits atop the cooler after and talks. The bar is located well below the street floor and people walking in can look straight down to the bar. Zoë talks openly, says she may come to the pig roast but has a wedding to attend. Cody attempts to talk her out of going and she is impressed with his ability to convince her. Finish your beers Joe says. We have eight more bars to go. We talk to Zoë longer and then some people in the bar and then we leave only to not find Joe. In what seems like a few seconds he’s disappeared.
We continue down Main past Starr Hill where Shooter Jennings is playing. His distinctive voice can be heard into the street. The next morning we’ll see the glass store front of Starr Hill has been smashed and held in place by artistically placed duct tape. We keep walking thinking we’ll catch up with Joe. Everyone has drunk enough that staying together was bound to go wrong.
So it starts to gently rain and we make it to Mellow Mushroom. The doorman is adamant about putting wristbands on us and marking hands with Sharpies. He gets Cody and myself but Eric slips through. Hey, where’s that other guy he says. He has to run to us anyway because he’s busy talking with friends on the street. Inside the bar we set about ordering drinks. Looking back I see the doorman grabbing Eric to ink him with a Sharpie.
I gotta mark you the door guy says. No Eric says plainly. But I got to and Eric dryly says no, I don’t think so, as if he’s being asked if he wants an enema or something. I’m allergic to that marker, I broke out before Eric lies. Eric tells him to write on the arm band. So Eric has this little black ring on his armband and the rest of us have black rings on the tops of our hands.
Inside, Cody is still looking for Joe but I look to my right after ordering whatever and see Joe’s straw hat and that he’s talking with a girl. I pull out the HOOK, a local mag, and sporadically turn the pages.

Is ‘V for Vendetta’ playing? a woman’s voice asks me looking down at the mag. I look over, noticing dark hair and tanned olive skin. It’s loud in the bar and I say I don’t know but I’ve seen it, my voice still raw from staying at a friend’s smoky house a few nights before. But I’m not from here I say. Is it good she asks. Not bad I say. I ask her name and she prefaces by saying this is really my name, it’s Alex. She says that people don’t get it. I tell her I’ve heard of girls named Alex. I see my friends are gonna leave and I say goodbye. What are you doing later she asks. Dunno. I walk outside and its raining and they’re waiting on a ride, to another bar. So I go back inside and ask what she’s doing later. Do you wanna go somewhere else she asks. Yeah, let’s go. So we do. Bail on my friends and disappear into a city where I don’t know my way around with what turns out to be a very cool girl.
We go to O’Neil’s where it’s loud and the old wooden floor is moist as though a leaky pipe is going strong. Its two levels and people play pool and others talk or dance closely. We pull two tables together and it seems awkward and both unanimously say let’s go, ending up at an after hours restaurant drinking margaritas and Dos Equis. It’s not loud and it’s a good place to get to know someone, after meeting so randomly. But time quickly passes over good conversation and the lights come up signaling time to leave.
Out on the street people are piling out of bars, it’s sprinkling now. Some guy keeps approaching people and asking do you like Pearl Jam?
We walk through streets heavy with fog and across campus where Jefferson is king and I am reminded of that maze in The Shining. There are endless, almost spiraling, walkways and ornate shrubbery and the image of campus is beautiful even under the dense night. On a vast stretch of grass between two main buildings is six inch wet grass that we walk through. In the distance there are a few people running from one end to the other, the pounding of flat feet on soft earth in the night. There is the faint sound of clapping. We talk but the people running seem odd. It dawns on me that in the distance someone is hitting the runner with a small spotlight and I see something. Are they naked? I ask. Alex says that they are naked, that its tradition, that everyone does it prior to graduating.
I get home later via cab and the pig roast flyer that has Joe’s address and invite the cabbie who’s lived in the city for most of his life. I enter Joe’s basement apartment and turn on the light to see Cody passed out on an ottoman, on his knees, facedown. It’s lurid and funny at the same time. I get my camera and snap one. He won’t believe me otherwise. Eric is asleep, snoring. I make a bed on the floor and try to get Cody to wake up. He mumbles like a little kid. I brush my teeth and then slide what I think is an old bean bag chair next to him (it’s really a dog bed, sorry, man) and sort of roll him onto it.
Sleep doesn’t come, only in short bursts. Ears ringing, the snoring, the dog growling and then a knock at the door. Cody has somehow made his way to a couch to sleep. I get up and turn on a light. Cody, there’s somebody at the door I say. Half awake he says let him in. I lay back down and soon after the knocking comes again. I open the door to find that it’s Jim. He goes to wake Joe, never stumbles over anything in the dark and says, Joe, we gotta get the pig. The sun is breaking in the sky and I try to sleep, burying my face in the dark of a pillow. But it won’t be long.
There’s Bloody Mary’s upstairs Steph says. It’s after eight and the day of the pig roast has begun. We pick up supplies from the ABC store and have breakfast in a packed restaurant where Cody keeps singing out loud to the girl sitting next to him, that she can’t have his potatoes. An older waitress comes up to me, she’s short, and is wearing a brown shirt with glittered lettering and a foxy cat on it. My eyes are mesmerized by the glitter but looks like I’m staring at her breasts. Yes, I’d like some water, thanks I say. Not your fault, Cody says. There’s a brief pause, the girl next to him watches Cody from the corner of her eye and smiles at her friend. You can’t have my Po-Ta-Toes! he sings out loud. The girl next to him breaks out laughing.
Cody and I drive to South Street to pick up a keg. There’s no place to park because the lots are used for selling art or something, a tiny gathering of something creative. We drive around and Cody points to a place to park close to South Street. There’s a fire hydrant I say. We won’t be long he replies. I say okay, thinking it’s a bad idea, but I park and out in a cd.
A few minutes later I hear this faint metallic voice, like someone talking really low with a bullhorn. Looking up and then to my left I see a police car. I turn down the At Budokan cd. You will be towed he says through the little speaker. I get out and walk over to him. As I do Cody is wheeling the keg to my truck and loading it. The officer has the handset in his right hand when I approach. Sorry, man, I couldn’t hear you I say. He is immediately rough, You are in front of a fire hydrant. I will tow you. I’ve been there only through the first verse of ‘Surrender’ and I figure he’ll see the keg being loaded and be reasonable. We’re loading the keg now I say. I don’t care, I will tow you if you don’t move he says firmly. I assume that there must be an overabundance of spontaneous flash fires in the lower downtown area and walk away to move my vehicle. As I cross the street I think to hand him a pig roast flyer and deem that he’d take it the wrong way.
The pig roast lasts all day and late into the night. Joe has frequent wardrobe changes. He changes his shirt after his parents leave to put on his signature shell bra. Cody changes his shirt too, sporting more edgy slogans, this one from Boondock Saints. It gets chilly and people make s’mores from the fire logs and Kate keeps everyone set up with drinks. Everyone who came to the party brought beer and bottles of liquor. Instant bar, plenty to go around.
You look like a man of adventure a guy says across the home bar three deep. He hands me a red Solo cup of something orange. Is this a Bar Mat I ask. No, I just made it he says. It looks like murky Tang and tastes like Cholulah and vodka. Insanely salty. I hand it back with a murky thank you. He smiles, walks away to find another victim. Leave the drinks to Kate.
There’s plenty of food to go around. There are brief tournaments of beer pong and flip cup. The guys beat the girls 6-2 but Tana insists that we were cheating or something.
Sam calls from NC asking how the roast is going. He says he can’t get Cody or Joe to answer their phones. He says he’s hung over a little, maybe a cold, asks if we like C-ville. I tell him I saw pictures of him on the wall of Joe’s apartment, from a wedding maybe. It’s high on the wall with many other pictures at the hallway to the bathroom where there’s been a line most of the night.
Late in the night it gets chilly and the smoke from the fire in the yard gets strong. Joe announces loudly to crowd from the bar that he isn’t drunk yet. Eric and I go upstairs to talk with Tana. She’s finishing up school this week with a degree in Environmental studies and philosophy. She’s not sure where she’s going afterwards and I look through her dissertation, thick as a phone book and loaded with stuff that I’ll never understand but she does. She goes to bed and Lindsay comes in. Eric heads out to the party again.
My phone rings and its Alex asking, where are you? I say I’m upstairs, come on up. She tells me that she’s back at the dorm, that she came by and that no one knew where I was. She must have come by just after we came upstairs. You just wanted to avoid me she says. No, I say, I wanted to see you, annoyed at the bad timing. I had fun last night she says. If you have time before you leave tomorrow maybe we could hang out. I say absolutely and that I’ll call after lunch.
I go downstairs and pour a few shots of Jager and call it a night passing some idiot hitting himself in the head, claiming that he’s Ultimate Fighting Championship material. The pig roast goes on for a few more hours.
Sunday morning means clean up and about fifteen bags of trash get hauled out to the street. All the beer is gone, the kegs are empty but there’s plenty of alcohol to play with. About ten of us go to St. Maarten to have brunch. Bloody Mary’s and Mimosas get made and conversation lends itself to the night before.
The mood is tired and light. Outside there’s the certainty that it will rain soon, the morning still damp into the afternoon. The orange glow inside St. Maarten’s echoes everyone’s early morning temperament.
It is a makeshift family that we were welcomed into for the weekend. The pig roast wasn’t just a birthday celebration but a celebration of life. It also may be the end of an era. Joe plans to sail away to the Caribbean in November, having saved up and bought a boat to leave on with his dog Leah. One gets the sense that there will be a hole left behind, hard to fill. In some ways, like Jefferson, Charlottesville has garnered and committed to history another fine individual. Something tells me that Joe will spread his spirit wherever he travels.

SAI COLLINS

2008-01-29T22:04:00.001-05:00

I can change the world with my own two hands is inked across the underside of Sai Collins’ arms, between the elbow and wrist. With Sai I firmly believe it. Seeing this on someone else’s arm I might not think much of it. But knowing Sai it is concrete. It just may happen if he’s got a hand in it. If there’s anyone I’ve ever known to be passionate about changing the world it’s him. In all this time as friends many conversations come to the subject of the world and how people tend to interact, both positively and negatively. And with Sai I’ve never known a harsh moment. He’s completely positive. Completely dedicated to making a difference where he can. Always volunteering his time, his talents and his energy. There are probably more like him but this story isn’t just about a musician but a person confounded by the world and their desire to make a difference.

“I got these tattoos two Tuesdays ago,” he says. As a kid, he used to draw a lot and would tattoo sleeves on his arms, usually before going to church in which his mom would yell to wash it off.
“She’d yell, ‘what are you doing, we’re about to go!” he says with a big laugh.
For his current tattoo he wanted something he’d still connect with at sixty. What would he want at 28 and still be happy with at 60? He remembered something from the bible as a kid and how god communicated with the Israelites. The statement was, “What I give you, what I tell you, wear it upon your forearms, your head, and write it in a visible location so you remember what you’re supposed to be doing.”
“And (pointing to the tattooed words) this is a line that comes from a Ben Harper song. It goes deeper than liking a song. That I can make this world a better place with my own two hands,” he says.
The mentality is that we’re a community and we get together and work towards the good of others. He brings up a statement made by Gandhi, be the change you want to see or expect.
“Change is a word I’m so fond of. We’re constantly changing even though we don’t want to. There’s so much change that is needed. Change will never come if no one takes initiative. It states so many things that I want to be as a person.”

Would you take the time to see what its like for me
As people pass me by would you wonder what they see
It looks like I’ve become a monster in some bad dream
Little children stare and parents won’t say nothing

Sai uses the word ‘door’ a lot. You hear it frequently during a conversation with him. Much of what he says pertains to making change or creating opportunity. The meeting of two people from different walks of life can create opportunity, open doors. Volunteer work that helps others can open doors.
Sai is hoping to do a music art show where music, art and even film covers lifestyles, surfing, vegans, vegetarianism, to get all types of people together to experience different things in one gathering.
He’s interested in a benefit show and mixing up different things. “I wanna keep changing things; change the scenery where we do benefit shows in diverse locations.”
Another idea is to start a beach walk where people meet and pick up trash. On a Sunday people meet and walk and pick up trash. It’s a simple situation where people meet new people then meet back somewhere and play music.
“I recently came up with the title of a show I want to start called, we all live here. All the songs on Through My Eyes are related to social or government issues. These issues touch all of us. The song ‘Through My Eyes’ is about a homeless man that he created based on an encounter with a real homeless man in New York and imagined what his life is like.
“When you walk by someone don’t just give them a weird glare” Sai says. “Stop and talk with them.”
Through My Eyes is an album that covers homelessness, vegetarianism, emotional displacement, things that most people can relate to. It is a direct extension of Sai, a collection of songs that emulate his philosophies and daily life. But it brings a certain duality that echoes his humbleness.
“Sometimes I feel weird just promoting music,” he says. “But music gives me a platform to talk about other things, to promote something else.”
Creating and playing music is also a healing process. Although talking with Sai one might think he’s gregarious but he claims to be something of the introvert. He’s very open and engaging once he starts talking. He’s energetic in his speech, talks with his hands, his head always moving and shuffling his frame.
“The music thing is helping me to overcome fears, to understand more about my life,” he says. Sai performs in front of people several shows a week all year long, and for the last two years.
“I get afraid to talk to people in groups. I go to parties and feel I’m not a party person,” he says. Sai confesses he’s reserved and deals with a small amount of social anxiety. At shows he doesn’t talk as much as he feels he should. He’d like to do more speaking at shows depending on the venue but time will tell.
So he gets a lot of practice. For the last year he’s played solo or with his band The Getaway Drivers, encompassing Eric Vithalani on bass and percussion, Bret Ekstrom on guitar and Dan Maggio on drums.

I’m looking for someone that I love
Can you tell me more about the one I speak of?
Cause they’ve been missing for sometime and
I’m never sleeping cause they’re on my mind

In 2004 a friend who worked at Tidal Creek, Emily, entered a singer songwriting contest at the Soapbox. She asked him to do it but he did it more out of supporting the friend. He played ‘Scarlet Butterfly.’ Monica Caison from the non-profit organization Missing Persons NC.org approached Sai about a contributing a song for the organization. She gave him a DVD that explained the mission of the organization. Sai went home and tried filling his head with what it would be like to lose someone, the emotional side. And he came up with the song ‘Missing Faces’ playing at River fest where the song was sold to raise money. Sai didn’t want to play alone so he asked Dan to play drums and then the idea of a band fell together. “Well, we could get a bass player. A three man band at least.” So they put up a flyer.
“I didn’t have a goal or a strong desire to pursue a career in music,” he says.
Dan was a vegetarian. Eric came to the band by way of the flyer at Tidal Creek. Coincidentally he was also a vegetarian. It wasn’t purposely done that way.
“We all laughed, it was ironic, off a flyer we got another vegetarian,” Sai says.
Within a year of playing with the band and as solo, Sai Collins and the Getaway Drivers performed a hundred and twenty plus shows in 2005. The band played House of Blues after Sai asked about performing after eating in the restaurant. He dropped off a cd with the manager and got a call back a few weeks later. Playing inside the restaurant is how HOB screens bands that will open for bands on their main stage.
“A year after our very first show we played at House of Blues for their Bluesapolooza,” he says. “It felt like a privilege. It was packed out which was a good feeling too.”
Sai plays more solo shows out of simplicity, even playing a My Space house party in New Jersey. He was contacted by a girl via the web site and bought a cd. Her parents liked the cd and invited him up to play at a party.
“I couldn’t promote music without My Space. I don’t know how bands did it without it. Putting music on there I’ve sold music as far away as Japan,” he says. “I got contacted from someone in the Philippines.”
He’s been able to share not only music but poetry. My Space lets him communicate with people much better.
“These are just cool people who like music,” he says.
You may have caught him play at the Black Horn Bar down at Carolina Beach or a performance at Sweet and Savory Café. But he’s been focusing more on the Myrtle Beach area recently. Being out of town so late doesn’t afford the opportunity to play early in the morning at Dixie Grill, a place he played many weekends last summer. It was a place where he met a lot of people from varied walks of life. He cites meeting a man who would bring his two daughters every Saturday.
“Playing there is a great sense of community,” he says. ‘The Dixie is very cool. The people there are cool. It has a more natural, grassroots feel to it.”
Playing at places like the Dixie Grill are important to him. He prefers the smaller venues, coffee house and the like. It is more personable and allows time to practice his music.
“I’m more partial to coffee house and smaller venues when playing solo versus bars.”

Sai grew up in public speaking training school in Los Angeles. His parents being very religious, Christian oriented, they taught him the importance of discipline and giving back to society.
“They were two hippies that found a new way of Christianity,” he says. Fueled with all this energy the family moved to an area in Bladen County, uprooting them and embarked on a five day road trip to North Carolina.
His father played trumpet and my mother played classical guitar. Sai’s interest in guitar came from a friend who was into heavy metal and played electric guitar. He was a year or two older than Sai, and into skateboarding which led to them becoming fast friends.
“I asked for a guitar, hoping for an electric and I got this classical guitar that my mom had been playing for years,” he says with a deep laugh. But Sai worked and saved enough money and purchased the whole rig. He started learning to play Metallica and Guns ‘N Roses.
“It’s funny when I tell people that, that I used to listen to Sepultura and Pantera,” he says.
But that was who he used to be and has no regrets or anything negative to say about that type of music. It’s just not who he is today.
“That was my interest then and there’s reasons why but I’m more into a peaceful existence now,” he says.
He played music but never was open with others. “It was something did in my room,” he says. “When I mention New York to people they assume I was playing there but that’s not the case.”
‘Worth the Drive’ is a song about growing up near Fayetteville and having to drive to get good waves. At sixteen, Sai and a friend would drive after work to the Outer Banks just to surf on the weekend. He doesn’t remember the germination of the song, but recalls possibly sitting in front of a surf video on the television, picking at the guitar and having images of being tired driving back .
“I don’t know if that’s exactly what happened but that’s how songs come about,” he says. “Just sitting around and playing.”
With Through My Eyes he wants to do more shows in conjunction with art and promoting causes.”
“I’m interested in getting with other artists like Mike Blair and creating more shows that open the door for us to invite people who are interested in our music and talk about other issues as well.”
Much of this stems from his upbringing. “I just grew up in an environment where my parents were doing work that helped people. That’s what my parents were always doing.”
He offers that he’s not a proponent of organized religion, that he severed himself from organized religion, but at the same time hasn’t lost respect for people who choose that for themselves.
“I try to find a balance within myself and produce something that’s good, positive. I get excited meeting new people and doing something positive together. It really comes from my parents.”
He mentions as an afterthought that his parents are currently learning sign language so they can missionary or preach to those that are deaf as a way to open up a door to communicate with others.
When not working or playing shows Sai does volunteer work. Every time we speak he seems to be involved in something, playing a benefit, such as Band Together in Maryland in June. But mostly it’s local. One such place is DREAMS. It came about after he overheard a conversation. Somebody said that there’s a non profit organization that gets involved with kids that are underprivileged, for art and music, dance and theatre.
“I went up and knocked and their door and asked how I could help out,” he says. But there have been rewarding moments and those of consternation. One afternoon the teacher who normally instructs the class was called away and Sai was left to conduct. The class was going crazy, bickering. Something had happened and he wasn’t sure what to do but felt that if he got the kids to talk about it, instead of fighting, then perhaps progress could be made.
“I guess this kid was in a gang. He seemed so mature for twelve,” he says. “I sat them down and talk about what was going on. The courts had this one kid at DREAMS to serve some of his time. The kid said he was glad to be there because he knew that being around those other kids was bad.”
Sai’s mindset is that, who else is going to show the kids that they are interested in them as individuals and how else will these kids reach their dreams if no one is encouraging them. He believes DREAMS provides that outlet to kids coming from troubled homes.
“I feel very privileged to help out and help raise money,” he says. It is the contacts made with other people that have also benefited the non-profit organization. It helped them get six acoustic guitars to start a class.
“Just talking to people,” he says about the volunteer work. “You never know what someone might want to donate.”

Sai has lived as a vegetarian for nearly eight years. The choice to become one originated from an alternate route from what one might expect. His cousin was a vegetarian for reasons that he can’t remember. Sai was about 18 and thought it was the stupidest thing.
“Why would you give up meat,” he says. So he made himself a bet to see if I could do it. To see if he could go without meat. And he did. But becoming a vegetarian grew out of a challenge, out of personal discipline. But when people ask him about it they learn that it was for more than just healthy eating or animal rights.
“I don’t consider myself an activist for animal rights,” he says. “Sometimes people choose modes of a lifestyle.”
He merely appreciates the value of eating in a better way, not contributing to factory farming which is problematic.
“The person I want to be, I can only achieve that if I discipline myself. If I went and did just anything I wanted I don’t know who I would be.”
Discipline is something he grew up with and mental discipline. His home life was regimented. He went to New York as a young person to do volunteer work and it too was regimented.
“I’m not as regimented anymore but I respect that value of discipline,” he says. “It’s important to me to have it in my life.”

In April Sai traveled to California to play a school benefit. It was the biggest he’s ever performed at. It was a solo performance, no band mates to rely on. And for close to a thousand people.
“Curtis Freeman found out about me from doing all these benefit things and put together this show to raise money for kids,” he says. Humbled by the request, about being invited to play with other musicians for a cause on the other coast, he still wondered about the invite.
“Why bring me from North Carolina for this when there are all these people in California?”
But it isn’t just the humility of being invited to perform, it’s who he is. Sai considers himself not a musician but a musical artist that likes to express emotions through music.
“I don’t consider myself a good performer,” he says. “I’m more of a writer and I’m learning to be a performer and how to be the business person in the middle of all this. It can be stressful.”
In this process he’s also found that no one will put the energy into projects as he will, wearing thin sometimes trying to keep things moving. Other projects include wanting to start an underground music label and helping other artists get exposure and fulfill their goals.
“I’m open about where I book my shows when people ask how I got all these shows. I’ll give them the phone number,” he says, citing the idea of utilizing a newsletter through the web site that coordinates local musicians to help promote them.
When people ask why he doesn’t play other types of music because they think he can., or is asked to sing for other bands, he graciously says no thank you, not wanting to participate in something that isn’t his. Sai’s interested in his own projects, wants to have control over what he’s doing. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate what others are doing or other types of music, he’s an avid Soundgarden fan actually, but doesn’t want to compromise. People also inquire as to why he doesn’t venture into other types of music.
“I want my energy to be complete in my project and not have to sing other people’s lyrics or sing songs about something I don’t agree with. So I decline.”
Sai’s talked with a label in South Carolina that is owned by Universal and the level of monetary input that’s invested in an artist was deterring. He felt he was green and wanted to learn more, so he entertained the business side briefly to grow. But the influence, the huge investment, told him that they wouldn’t relinquish control with an untested artist.
“People don’t invest that kind of money in an artist and relinquish control. So I can see why the labels dominate so much of what’s on the radio. As a mode to make money record labels will invite people in who can make them a lot of money. But I don’t agree with what that artist is saying because it’s contributing to something to bad in society.”
He’s also working with a company who submits music to established performers who don’t always create their own music.
“Which is how much of the industry is run anyway, you know, Avril Lavigne doesn’t write her own songs. But it’s how songwriters make extra money.”
His songs are inspired by people, the environment, or issues. And songs like that put an artist in a certain category in the minds of record labels. Someone like Jack Johnson has been able to break through that wall because of the musical nature of the songs yet still covers similar territory.
“My spirituality healing through music is what I want to share with people. Healing myself as a person. Two years ago I removed myself from organized religion and my life started over,” he says. “I had to start over, new friends, everything. I knew I had to find something outside the system of just paying bills”

"I promised myself I wouldn’t end it this way
But now my skies they fade to deep shades of gray
Nobles say I should want what I have
But my heart tells me that I should have what I want"

The meaning for the song ‘Scarlet Butterfly’ has increased over time. And the meaning has increased from being on MySpace. People send him e-mails about how the song has affected them personally.
“It kind of gives me chills,” he says. “I mean, I’m a nobody in Wilmington, N.C. and my music is having an effect on somebody…To get feedback like that on a serious level…” Sai pauses and then utters a deep laugh in amazement.
People have traveled from far away to see his shows. “It blows my mind,” he says simply. “You’re writing things that are on your mind. But the value of their meaning increases with each time you sit down with it.”

PORTABLE FOLK BAND

2008-01-29T21:58:00.001-05:00

Mark Chadwick is asleep in the back of an ambulance parked behind the Soapbox. The guitarist and singer for Portable Folk Band is suffering a late winter cold brought on by fatigue, touring and little sleep, all things pertinent to keeping a cold in good shape. The ambulance is not a vehicle in service with a hospital in New Hanover County. It was one purchased by the band two weeks ago off eBay for around six hundred dollars. Not a bad price given that its quite roomy, was well maintained by previous owners and if you’ve seen that old Burt Reynolds flick, The Cannonball Run, you know that it might save the driver a little grief when driving above the speed limit.
On the shelf just inside the passenger’s sliding door is drummer Ian Collin’s chemistry book where he studies while on the road. There’s vegetables and other groceries for band members to eat or snack on from town to town. The back is packed efficiently with musical equipment and other gear, a large bench seat has been installed for them to sleep while taking turns driving.
The old seat went the wrong way, designed for a stretcher to be slid in the back, something not ideal for long distance driving. It was a bear to get out and Shelley Salamon has become architect and mechanic very quickly. She tried sawing the seat out but ended up taking a big axe and chopping it out. Once removed a bench seat was installed in its place across the axle instead of lengthwise. It wasn’t very stable. So the day leaving for the tour Nat Lownes was under the ambulance with a drill.
“Four fucking holes in the bottom of the van to hold the seat in,” he says. “Won it on eBay.”
Named the van yet? No, Shelley says, not wanting to jinx anything. They changed the oil in Virginia and then the serpentine belt fell off. Shelley figured that one out.
“I’m a mechanic now,” she says. “It’s a diesel and has 76000 miles on it.”
“Its loud but its fun,” Nat says.
I won’t see Chadwick until he and the rest of Portable Folk Band perform onstage. It’s a relatively quick set, about fifty minutes worth, in which they work through a frenzied performance of songs from their current release Royal Postal Bazaar. Chadwick is red faced, from his cold and tension on his face from singing. He sings forcefully and passionately, moving about as if about to implode from the energy. Music has its way, even with the tired and sick, has its way to wake up the soul and body.

It’s mid March and students have only returned from spring break. The show is scheduled for a Tuesday night and downtown is sparse with visitors. It’s cold out still, enough to make you shiver and bristle when the wind blows downtown.
Its day five of the tour, they will travel to South Carolina in the morning and then on to Jacksonville, Florida the next. Shelley booked much of the tour and the stop in Wilmington came from hearing another band mentioning the area.
Yesterday was Raleigh. Before that DC in which Nat says he stuttered through a radio interview and passed the microphone to Ian.
“We did some radio interviews that were weird, ” Nat says.
Standing amongst washers and dryers in the laundry area of the Soapbox, Nat Lownes (guitar, vocals), Shelley Salamon (bass) and Ian discuss the formation of the band.
Shelley’s hair is short, unlike the length of black hair in the band’s promo photo. She quickly punctuates a sentence, unconsciously with a small doses of profanity. So quick in fact that you’re not sure if that’s what you really heard. She’s probably picked it up from living with Nat. Ian’s hair is shorter now as well. He is tall and relatively soft spoken, but can tell you a story at length and deadpan. Nat is stocky, small piercing eyes that talk to people directly without shuffling. They are tired from traveling but pleased to be out of ambulance and on solid ground.
Portable Folk Band had its origins as a recording project between Nat and Mark. In high school the pair would drive around in Mark’s car taking a 4 track recorder with batteries taped to it, using it so they could record out in public or whatever.
“We would improvise shit on acoustic guitars and harmonicas. Somehow that got named Portable Folk Band,” Nat says. “And we never came up with another name. It’s a little misleading. It might do more harm than good.”
Nat started playing saxophone in the 4th grade. He played drums in his first band then picked up guitar.
“I like the drums the best, drum are awesome,” he says.
Shelley started on guitar senior year. Her boyfriend played in a band and she attended shows.
“I said ‘I wanna do that,” she says of seeing him onstage.
The boyfriend played drums, and not wanting to copy him, she played guitar. She played a while and got frustrated. Five months later she could play power chords.
“My fingers didn’t feel stupid anymore,” she says.
Shelley played nine months and then went to college and started recording her own material. Then she borrowed her boyfriend’s uncle’s bass. Playing the bass became more common than guitar, discovering she could do different things. The boyfriend was in a band called Mini Band in which they played mini instruments.
“I went to all the shows, enjoyed it,” she says. “It was guitar and drums only. Someone offered Shelley a mini bass and she wound up playing in Mini Band. She was going to all the shows and knew the songs anyway having attended the shows over the course of a year.
“I fell in love with it and guitar looked boring after that.”
Shelley met Nat and Mark and the band started to come together.
“We had to make this happen live,” she says. “So I learned all the songs.”
Drummer Ian Collins is the only band member who is still in school. He brought his books on tour, to study on the road, something Nat refers to as a “recipe for motion sickness.”
Ian is a bio major, taking classes in chemistry, calculus and physics. He needed one class, any class, to fill his requirements so he took a golf course.
“Everyone thinks it’s a joke,” he says but seems to like it. “A lot of touring is entertaining yourself, it’s not too bad, doing some reading. That’s what I do, school, drums.”
Shelly was recording a friend of Mark and Nat’s and liked what the two were doing. She made some cd’s of all these songs the pair had recorded and together they put a live band together.
“It was pretty much unnamed. Coming up with a band name is hard. What are you going to call that?” she recalls asking them.
PFB has been together about a year and a half. The current ensemble lived in the same house outside Philadelphia. The location was great in that everyone was together but the lease was coming up.
“There were various reasons to leave that house,” Nat says.
“Yeah, the heating bill was too high. Five hundred dollars,” Shelly interjects.
Shelly’s parents recently bought a place in Boca Raton, Florida where the temperature was nearly a constant seventy degrees. No one was living there at the time, the parents not moving in until the following year, so it was an opportunity too good to pass up. So for a short time the band was split with Nat and Shelley in Florida and Ian and Mark residing in Florida.
“We go back to Philly in May,” Shelley says.
“Missing winter,” says Nat with a smile.

Recording the album Royal Postal Bazaar took place in a small room with no windows. The environment, in many ways, affected the results. The album is an acoustic fever dream mixed with psychedelic guitar and hip hop sensibilities. It is not an easy thing to categorize and probably shouldn’t be. It is not folk music, as Nat said, the band name can be misleading. But then again, what did the name Pink Floyd mean when they first arrived?
The album’s name came form a dream Mark had, that he was part of a group of people who transported very fancy silver plated handguns in suitcases on public transportation. It was very secretive but everyone knew who they were because they had black suits and suitcases. They were called the Royal Postal Bazaar. Although not direct, the title and back story lend a quality to the self released debut. The album is many things, especially mysterious, as the back story and the place recording area.
“Our friends had an extremely tiny room, maybe it was a cooling cellar for vegetables but it was very small,” Nat says. “We insulated the walls with carpet and recorded there.”
The band’s musical interests are there to some extent, The Beatles, RJD2, D-Plan, but listening one can hear early days Beck and The Flaming Lips as well. They are also fans of a now defunct Philadelphia band, Dispatch.
“Acoustic party music, what OAR used to be, but 5 times as good,” Ian says. “They sold out a 5000 seat capacity in Philadelphia but couldn’t get on the radio.”
On RPB there is the aural garage sounding guitar on ‘markruok’ and ‘100 Greatest Robberies n History’ that takes the ear back to the sixties. It’s frenetic and soothing all at once. It’s funky and at times heavy, layered and definitely unique.
“Reviewers have gotten it wrong, seemingly reviewing without listening, saying its folk and its portable and that’s that,” Shelley says.
Even open music web sites such as Garageband.com where random people can review music have made positive and vague comments such as the bouncing and childlike track ‘Baby Food’ as sounding like The White Stripes.
“That’s weird,” Shelley says appreciative but a little confused. “Baby Food is pretty catchy.”
The songs themselves came from disparate places, all written separately. Nat says they had no idea going in, that they recorded demos never to be recorded for the album.
“We had nothing in mind and just recorded stuff,” he says. “Going from instrument to instrument.”
Nat’s take on the genesis of the songs comes from the way he likes the way some words or phrases sound together. He says with a laugh that he was brought up in a household where cursing was part of the norm.
“An NC paper brought that up,” he says. “They said there seems to be an extraordinary amount of cursing on the album. I’m not trying to be badass by saying the F word.”
But it’s not cursing in the sense that it’s in the listener’s face either. It’s not overly noticeable and seems to fit the song without being a bump in the road.
“Any song without cursing is Mark’s song, he doesn’t curse,” Shelley says and they all laugh.
‘Hinge Door’ always gets a really good response from crowds. Mark was strumming on the B string and started out writing that because Nat was writing a song that had a similar pattern.
“Then he wrote this great song that I really like,” Nat says.
It’s an album of material that places effort on the soul. Lots of finger picking and non-finger picking, loud drums, a bunch of bass and vocal harmonies coalescing into something that only be described as an experience and not a direct category, mixing different styles of music. It’s hypnotic, in that good/bad dream kind of way, one that you’re fascinated by and moves along as one long song.
And there was a lot of music that was left off Royal Postal Bazaar. When you buy the CD another CD accompanies it because there were 15 songs that didn’t go on RPB.
“It split it up too much,” Nat says.
“There were ten other songs too that we didn’t use either,” Says Shelley.

Nat and Shelley want pizza. They just pulled into town from a gig the night before in Raleigh. Nat wears two t-shirts and shorts, walks with Shelley down front Street. They carry on as if a couple but are not. Ian is soft spoken and quiet. He recounts something he heard recently, a story that is surreal and strange but fits.
“In Sweden, or is Norway? Anyway, our music was put on a video blog. It’s this man ranting set to our songs, it was hysterical.
Shelley turns around and asks Ian what he’s talking about. “You don’t know? I’ll send you the link. It’s on archive.org”
Ian walks a few steps and then chuckles. “We’ve never been to Sweden. Internet. Amazing.”

ARTIST TOM FLEMING

2008-01-29T21:54:00.000-05:00

from Avenue Magazine Aug 2005

“Hi, Tom,” the teenager says as Tom Fleming moves through Fanboy Comics, past boxes and boxes of comics and walls hanging older ones. He’s an accomplished artist whose range of work straddles the comic book universe, the sci-fi and fantasy genre that focuses on voluptuous heroines and bulky warriors and nature inspired imagery. Fleming could pass for one of the subjects in his fantasy pieces that echo Heavy Metal magazine and Frank Frazetta’s work. Fleming’s a big guy – muscular, angular features, piercing eyes and long black hair pulled back. And friendly.
Another kid walks by, also says hello to Tom. It’s clear many of the patrons there know him. Fleming has lived in the area for ten years after visiting Wilmington with his wife many years ago.
“There’s a laid back atmosphere in Wilmington,” he says. “There’s diversity, a little bit of everything.”
Fleming is also a fixture at comic related events alongside Fanboy Comics, its staff and owner Thomas Gilbert.
“Tom’s a great guy,” Gilbert says. “He’s always willing to help out.” For a recent promotion for Star Wars III, Fleming created a pencil drawing that was given away for the film’s opening night.
Fleming is a professional artist fortunate to earn a living from his talent. But not all creations are ideas generated solely from his imagination. That’s where the moniker, professional artist, applies. Some creations are generated from assignments from comic book companies or commissions from individuals and sometimes professional models. He’s worked as a full time artist for fifteen years but it hasn’t always been easy.
“It’s been tough but in an uplifting way,” he says. “There’s a lot of promotion.”
For a long time he fought the idea of promotion, believing that the work was what sold an artist. But promotion is probably sixty per cent or more of the total work a successful artist puts forth. Talent is much less of an aspect than the marketing and promotion these days.
“It’s all about branding now,” he says with a wince. Name recognition and the style of an artist go together in a way that a fickle and short minded public easily pick up on.
Fleming primarily does comic book art for a living, producing covers and trading cards. He has produced numerous covers, from magazines such as Cracked and Pin Up Illustrated to comics Captain Marvel and Elektra, for which he is probably most known for. Currently, he is waiting to hear from Heavy Metal about doing a cover. Aside from his comic related work, Fleming’s fantasy pieces seem a natural choice for the cover of Heavy Metal. He even produced a piece of art, ‘Agency 32,’ as a book cover for local author David Beauchamp.
“I’m just happy doing art for a living,” he says, having no pretensions about subject matter. Fleming’s art ranges from the dark images of ‘Dead Mime’ to nature images serving as backdrops for outdoor thermometers. These images, such as a bass bursting from beneath the water were commissioned for Koch Measurement Devices.
Commission work has come from professional models looking to have an image of them painted by Fleming or locals who desire something exotic for their home. Fleming refers to it as the ‘Fantasy Portrait’ concept in which portraits are painted from a photo of a person, or couple, putting them in a different environment.
“They’ll ask me to put them on the moon or in a garden or with aliens,” he says.

Fleming has been creating art since the age of eight, encouraged wholeheartedly by his parents, especially his mother. He started out creating work strictly in black and white and then later dabbling in watercolor. Today, he uses watercolor, colored pencil and acrylic to create comic related artwork and fantasy creations.
“My mom was a very creative person in general and has dabbled in watercolor,” he says. “I think I get it from her.”
Fleming grew up in Putnam Valley, New York and attended Syracuse University where he majored in art and finished at the top of his class. While school can concentrate on craft and history, Fleming fostered his interest in fantasy art and tongue in cheek pieces such as ‘Dead Mime’ and ‘Feet’ (this issue’s cover).
“I jokingly refer to it as ‘Agony of the Defeat’,” he says.
What’s great about ‘Dead Mime’ is that it first grabs a viewer as a violent image and then slowly reveals its, albeit dark, humor – a mime having murdered himself with his own finger, as a mime can only do. Twisted humor, but done elegantly - at first grotesque then silly as realization sets in. The style and theme of the piece are captivating in both appearance and process.
“That particular piece is big with the Goth crowd,” he says. “I get my biggest reaction about it from people.”
Spectrum, a Sci-fi art competition, the Emmys or Grammy’s of the Sci-fi art world, named it one of the top 300 in the world and published it in a book called The Art of the Fantastic. As far as selling his original art it’s a particular piece that he doesn’t want to part with. Prints are available for most of his work but he doesn’t want to part with the original painting of ‘Dead Mime’ and ‘Feet’ for “sentimental reasons.”
During his college years Fleming attended a class in which the instructor assigned the students to create anything with clowns. In class, the instructor would play the song Bring in the Clowns. The ensuing torture inspired Fleming differently from other students. The original idea was to have the mime putting a finger to his head, mimicking a gun, and confetti blasting from the other side. The instructor was a little reluctant to Fleming’s finished work.
“It was me, doing a painting overnight for an assignment due the next day,” he says. “I got an A minus.” Fleming plans to do a series of dead mime pieces. He has begun a second piece depicting a mime in the desert hanging but without a noose.

Fleming graduated from college with no interest of going into comics.
“I was more into sci-fi and fantasy,” he says.
A friend introduced Fleming to an editor at DC Comics. They needed someone to do artwork for trading cards. Fleming didn’t put much thought into it thinking the editor would never call him back. Two weeks later the editor phoned him about doing Superman trading cards. Fleming would later go on to earn acclaim for a card depicting the funeral of Superman.
He also did black and white drawings for Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine where he was garnering a hundred dollars per drawing. It was the first thing he worked on as a professional artist, and not bad for right out of college in 1988.
Still, the work was temporary. In between jobs Fleming took work making pizzas and selling waterbeds. Then another call came, from Minwax Stains to produce a label for a pastel line of stains. Unsatisfied with the work by another artist Minwax hired, Fleming got the call and was given twenty four hours to come up with something. Reminiscent of college, Fleming pulled an all-nighter and produced something that impressed the company. The job landed him a thousand dollars. The label he created consisted of pastel colors in one broad paint brush stroke.
“I believe they still use it,” Fleming says with a laugh. “The best paydays are from advertising jobs anyway but they’re not the most creatively satisfying work.”
In the early nineties, Fleming got his first big break working for the World Wrestling Federation by answering an ad in the New York Times where he went to work designing costumes, props and merchandising art. Between 1991 and 1994 he produced thirty seven portatrits of wrestlers.
“Some of those guys were real professionals,” he says, “and a few were animals.”

But today Fleming buys comics, “mostly for the art” (giving kudos to the New Avengers) but as a youngster, he was a Marvel Comics fan over rival DC Comics. It’s ironic, given that Fleming is in the middle of a big job of creating trading cards for DC. Trading cards are enjoying resurgence after over saturating the market in the 1990’s.
“It’s hit or miss, doing trading cards, the characters you’re given to draw,” Fleming says. “In the past I’ve been given some lame characters to draw. That didn’t happen this time.” For the assignment Fleming was given Characters Batman, Green Lantern, Aquaman and Firestorm.
There’s also talk with Marvel about doing an all painted graphic novel, in which the panels in the comic are not hand drawn but each are painted. Such a project will take a long time to produce but the pay off would be merit the huge undertaking.
“They’re gung ho about working on a project but its still in talks,” he says. “Once they decide on a script we’ll go from there.”
It’s a lengthy process, but once he gets the go ahead Fleming will be looking for local models to work on the project.

Inspiration for his work comes from anywhere. For his fantasy pieces the seed of an idea can germinate from any given source. “Sometimes I get a model with a cool pose,” he says. “Or I simply have an idea I want to do.”
Sometimes his wife poses with her hands and arms or she takes pictures for him as a source of reference for a particular piece. There’s the need to get an image correct, a hand coming at you, thrusted, to show the effect desired in the finished drawing.
“I prefer to take the pictures myself, to be behind the camera to get the light,” he says. “So I know how it strikes the object.” Usually Fleming uses a digital camera but for reference he likes to use an old film camera.
Several years ago Fleming converted a garage into a studio that is now adorned with toys and models and original art. There’s an original Mort Walker Beetle Bailey comic strip and a Don DeCarlo Archie. Fleming once met DeCarlo as well as the real Josie that inspired DeCarlo’s Josie and the Pussycats.
Fleming confesses his own challenges and attempts at something new. Currently, he’s working on a new style based on the field of classic romanticism. It’s a style he thinks will be taken more seriously and accepted by the general public versus pieces that are classified as Fantasy, pieces that are as much sexual as they are artistic.
In recent months Fleming has discovered turn of the century artist Jay W. Waterhouse. It was the first time, in a long time, that Fleming was inspired to paint in a different style. His wife bought a large painting of Waterhouse’s and hung it in the bedroom.
“It’s tough for me to hang big art,” he says.
Fleming explains that Waterhouse’s work has a more painterly feel – in the style of realism. Realism was brought about by Classicism (adheres to Greek and Roman art and literature, restrained and restrictive) and Romanticism (characterized by heightened interest in nature emphasizing on the individual’s expression of emotion, imagination and rebelling against social rules, conventions) as a sort of middle ground, an inclination towards literal truth, the representation in art of objects, actions, social conditions as they actually are. Waterhouse focuses on the details of important areas but gets painterly in areas where a viewer’s eyes does not need to go thus creating more of a mood. And it saves a lot of time too. For Fleming, to not be detailed on every inch of the canvas, was a learning experience.
“It was hard for me to break those detail oriented habits,” he says. In the past he would obsess over putting in the most minute detail ion every inch of the canvas.
Other artists he admires are Alphonse Mudka (“one of the masters of art nouveau”), Frank Frazetta, (“of course”) most known for his fantasy artwork and Norman Rockwell. This may seem an odd choice given the company of Fleming’s peer choices but the variety makes sense for him.
“Rockwell was very underrated because of his subject matter,” he explains. “As an artist he viewed the world in a different way and doesn’t get the validity because of the subject of the paintings he did.”
Fleming responds to Rockwell, in part, due to Rockwell’s realism in the paintings. Fleming prefers realism in his art, understandable given his history of acute attention to detail in his own paintings. But with all creative people there’s a facet that those who don’t create in the same way never fully grasp – self criticism.
“There’s never a time I feel it’s perfect,” he confesses. “I’m very self critical.”
Even in the trading cards there is an extreme sense of reality to the art. One knows it is a piece of art but is at times is devastatingly real. Take ‘Dead Mime’ again as an example or even the bass for artwork to accompany a thermometer or ‘System Shock which Fleming refers to as a combination of gaming art and advertising. But all three examples are fraught with detail..
“Michelangelo makes things very detailed,” Fleming says. “Loosen up. You don’t have to have every detail to a painting.” Fleming still strongly makes the case for realism.
“I’ll take Da Vinci and Michelangelo over Monet and Van Gogh any day.”
Fleming answers questions with candor and direct uncalculated answers. He is attentive and open to every inquiry. In answering a question about what artist he has seen recently that knocked his socks off, Fleming mulls over the question for awhile. A long silence ensues. Unable to comment the conversation goes in another direction, discussing the business of art and the desire to create his own limited edition prints. Then, his eyes light up, stopping himself in mid sentence.
“To answer your question – about someone knocking my socks off – I went to the D.C. National Gallery and saw an exhibit of Toulouse-Lautrec’s work,” he says in a voice still rich in his native New York. It was an exhibit of cabaret art work; Lautrec’s work was comprised of realism and impressionism, oils and ink drawings.
“His work smokes Van Gogh in my opinion as far as craftsmanship and painting skills.” Fleming seems pleased that he has answered the question and returns to the previous subject.
His plans for now include books of his art work; continue building a fan base and his own limited edition prints that can be bought on his web site. Fleming’s artwork is on display at the Blue Moon gallery on Racine Drive where prints are also for sale. Cassandra Peruzzi, manager of Blue Moon, says of Fleming’s work “that there’s never been anything like it at Blue Moon before.”
Peruzzi has worked at Blue Moon since it opened four years ago and also commented that his subjects are varied. “There’s not enough space to really show all his styles of work,” she says.
Several years ago, Fleming put his talents to work on the Jodie Foster film Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys as an illustrator of still work used on screen. He was responsible for creating the art work the kids in the film created. The production gave him specific pieces to draw and other times allowed him to be creative.
“It was hard because they wanted me draw as a sixteen year old,” he recalls. “It was difficult in the sense that I had to deconstruct what I’d learned since that age as an artist.”
Challenges aside, Fleming has worked infrequently for other film productions such as Stateside doing storyboard work and storyboarding a scene for current production Surface. Some of his artwork is featured in a gory horror film shot in Louisiana, called Stay Alive. Like Altar Boys, his artwork serves as the creation of one of the film’s characters, a teenager. He was told that in one shot the camera pans across a wall where his work hangs and stops over his signature.
“The guy said it will be the size of a Toyota on screen,” he says proudly.
There are things Fleming confesses he’d like to have more time to do, reading for one. He just doesn’t get the chance to do it. There’s not a lot of free time. There’s always work and promotion, like the recent comic convention in Charlotte or the upcoming Dragon Con in Atlanta where the city will surely be filled with the wild, bizarre and exotic.
Fleming is fan of music, seventies punk, Black Flag, Ween – but has never created a cd cover for a band.
“I’d like to do it,” he says. “Definitely.”
There’s so much Fleming wants to do but there’s the notion of time. Art, and the business of art, take up much of that time. He gets cards and other mail from fans all over the world, especially Europe where fantasy art is very popular. He says he’s never gotten a letter or an e-mail and not responded to it. But the original spark always calls.
“I always feel like I should be painting,” he says with a reticent smile.

You can view fleming’s work at www.flemart.com

NBC'S SURFACE BEGINS FILMING

2008-01-29T21:50:00.001-05:00

from Avenue Magazine Aug 2005

On July 9th, an open casting call was held at Westfield Shopping Mall. People of all ages showed up at ten that morning, some with prepared headshots, to have their picture taken with the hope of making some extra money by getting the chance to be on television. Similar casting calls were held in Jacksonville and Myrtle Beach. Nearly 5,000 people attended throughout the day in Wilmington.
The cast of the science fiction show, Surface, includes Rade Serbedzija (Snatch, Batman Begins, Eyes Wide Shut), Lake Bell (ER, Boston Legal, The Practice) and Jay Ferguson (Judging Amy, Higher Learning, Evening Shade). NBC is investing a lot in the series, which is being filmed simultaneously in different locations to accommodate the show’s multiple storylines, and is scheduled to air this fall on Monday nights.
The first full day of production took place on July 20th, at the Wrightsville Beach Fire Department. The call time for extras was at seven a.m. Everyone gathered at a clear tent just beyond the firehouse. The recently risen sun began to make the morning uncomfortable. Inside the tent, the mugginess grew and the crew made a call to cool things down. A large, oversized fan was in the corner of the tent and one of the assistant directors, Rudy Persico asked about getting it powered up for the extras. Many stood outside to stay cool. Others remained inside filling out forms in order to get paid for the day’s work. Long tables lined the tent and breakfast food and drinks were available at the front. A large oversized pipe, like something you see behind a common household dryer, connected to a large generator outside was positioned through the tent’s flaps and within moments there was air conditioning.
It is explained to the extras how there is a watchful eye on the production, that its important to show that this type of show can be produced here. The show is set in several locations and heavy on visual effects. Everyone applauds when it’s mentioned how good it is to have an additional series shooting in Wilmington. Throughout the day there were numerous stickers on equipment that read, BRING BACK NC FILM.COM
Extras milled around, waiting and talking. The hair and make up crew began on some of the extras, a little girl’s hair pulled up and make up applied and men, all of a certain height and build were shuttled out to dress in National Guard uniforms - brand new camouflage, and their hair trimmed to look authentic. Other extras were taken away to get dressed as doctors, some in blue scrubs and some in white lab coats and others were in suits to emulate national security, or, ‘men in black’ as the extras joked during the day.
One of the extras, whom many knew and called Billy Ray, said that he’d been involved in over ninety films and remarked about a scene in Ya Ya Sisterhood that he was featured prominently. The man was proud of his time spent on movie sets and when called for throughout the day to move to different spots on the set he was quick footed and eager to please.
The remaining extras were asked by wardrobe crew members to step outside into a half circle. Each extra was looked over for their clothes. It was important to wear non-white apparel and clothing devoid of logos. Two extras had black tape placed over tiny logos on their shoes. A few were asked if they wanted to wear their bathing suits all day or go without shirts.
Around 8:30, the extras were moved to the set where camouflaged Humvee’s were placed behind the fire department along with black Chevy Suburbans, Jeff Gordon Chevrolet license plates on the front, to simulate government vehicles. A troop transport sat at center of the set. The first shot called for the transport to enter the area as though bringing in more evacuees. The shot would require several takes. It took rehearsing and a few takes to get the shot correct, which necissitated the movement of several vehicles and soldiers assisting evacuees from the rear of the transport vehicle once it stopped.
Extras posing as evacuees brought items from home to emulate what people might grab in a hurry during an evacuation. Some brought pillows, sleeping bags, small suitcases and pet carriers. They were instructed to line up at tents and others were placed about the set – in the troop transport or in the background to give the sense of mild hysteria. The Wrightsville Beach Fire Department doubled as the evacuation area, a sign placed on the building reading Mount Pleasant in shiny black raised letters. A short while later, a set painter climbed a ladder to repaint the letters rustic grey to make them appear worn and aged.
AD’s would yell “Background!” and extras would pretend to be frustrated with being evacuated, pantomiming frustration with the doctors under the tents. After a few takes, an AD would come over to coach some of the extras on their movements and to act more frustrated. After about an hour under the morning sun that was not hard to do. Crew members were coming over between takes and asking the extras if they needed sunscreen and offered small towels to wipe away the sweat. One couple, obviously having done this type of work before, had brought their own mini battery operated fan.
The crew set up for another shot, moving the cameras in closer to capture one of the show’s heroes entering the scene. They work fast, expediting the director’s request. AD Rudy Persico helps coordinate the action and refers to the actor as ‘Hero.’ The director refers to her real name, Lake. All these takes from different angles will give the editor multiple shots to edit a scene displaying a hurried evacuation with Bell’s character entering the shot with her son, played by Bobby Coleman.
Bell comes onto the outdoor set under an umbrella to shield her from the sunlight. Between every take a crew member approaches her to pat away any sweat and address make up concerns. She also has a battery operated fan as well. She leans over to apply it to Bobby as well, but he is energetic and decides to sit under the high bumper of the troop transport instead. He is only there for a moment before another take is called for. The scene is played over several times, Bell approaching the table as frustrated extras leave and move about the area. The director wants the actress to be seen between the crowd of people moving about the set. This shot will give the impression of many people as Bell moves through them.
Another take is called for and someone checks Bell’s make up again. This almost seems unnecessary, she’s tan as a local and there aren’t adjectives enough to describe how pretty she is. The actress sees an extra, a young boy of ten years, sitting down. His skin is pale and he wears black glasses that has garnered him Harry Potter questions and jibes all morning. Bell expresses concern for the young boy being out in the sun.
“Maybe that boy shouldn’t be in the sun so much,” she says.
A crew member sprays additional sunscreen on him and asks if he’d like some water. She tells the boy to stay in the shade under the tents when they aren’t filming. The boys smiles and goes back to talking with an extra he’s paired himself with.
Moments later the scene begins again.
Director Jeffery Reiner, satisfied with the shot, yells “Check the gate,” which means its time to move on to another shot. Throughout the day, as this sentence is yelled out, conditioning set in over everyone, smiles all around because they knew the shot was complete.
Cameras and track were set up in different places to achieve separate angles of the scene. The scene became apparent as evacuees were being shuffled through; the scene introduces one of the show’s heroes, Daughtery Carstarphen, played by Bell. She approaches a doctor’s tent with her son. She is questioned and becomes aggravated by the situation like everyone else.
“Are we being arrested?” she asks. The doctor is vague but drives home the point that she may be needed further in case of ‘infection.’ Her son stands close to Bell, his thick long hair falling around his face. Bell runs her fingers through the young boy’s hair playfully between takes. Bobby’s elbows just reach the table where he plays with the fake doctor’s items. He pretends to growl like a lion with an extra, Nancy Boldizar, whose son is the young actor’s stand in.
“Background action!” is yelled again.
Extras move into line and those at the tables look at forms on clipboards and hand them back to the doctors with frustration. A camera tracks along behind the tents capturing other extras being questioned until it stops on Bell and Bobby. She repeats the same lines again.
“Cut!” Reiner says.
Reiner approaches from the monitor station near the parked troop transport. He makes his way over to the tent where Bell still stands. Reiner moves quickly, wearing low top red Converse, black shorts and a loose fitting white shirt. His curly black hair stands thickly above his forehead.
“Bobby, your performance was great,” Reiner says.
The young boy smiles a toothy grin and says thank you.
“Hey, what about me?” Bell jokes.
Reiner and Bell talk about the dialogue a few moments. The actor portraying the doctor quizzing Bell asks if he can move his chair a little, to make himself more comfortable. The camera operator okays the movement.
“Thanks, guys,” he says, wiping his brow.
The heat is growing heavier as the noon hour approaches. Crew members return with towelettes to wipe away the sweat. Everyone is fanning themselves and with no clouds in the sky the sun is pouring on the pressure. You can hear it in the crew’s voices. There’s a certain amount of tension in the air but it’s not directed at anyone in particular. Everyone just wants to get a lot of work done. A battery malfunction causes a moment of frustration between a camera operator and another crew member but it doesn’t slow the pace of production. This is the third set up of the morning and each set up has garnered multiple takes. The director calls for the scene to begin again.
“Let’s shoot this before we all melt!” someone yells playfully yet with a hint of disdain for the strain from the sun. The take begins again but has to stop and everyone resets.
In the distance a car backfires, sounding eerily like a shotgun firing. Bell recoils.
“What was that?” she asks with concern.
“Just an old car backfiring,” an extra standing nearby answers. Bell’s eyes move to the person who answered, a little embarrassed at what the sound actually was. Her hazel eyes glisten a moment and she flashes a wide smile, laughing. The scene is played again until Reiner is satisfied. Everyone breaks while the crew set up the cameras to capture another actor, Rade Serbedzija, seeing Bell in the melee of evacuees.
The crew has been concerned with the heat all day for everyone on the set, constantly reminding them to drink plenty of fluids. A table was set up to provide water, Gatorade, fruits and crackers and other items to keep everyone nourished until lunch. The crew worked hard that day, it was seldom that you saw them taking a break or drinking something for themselves, always thanking the extras and addressing them as sir or ma’am.
The heat lingered on through the mid afternoon, only a few clouds crossed the sky and those that did were dark rain clouds. The timing was good for the clouds because by close to one o’clock the crew moved inside the fire department to rehearse an upcoming scene. Rehearsal and set up for the scene takes a while and everyone outside finds a place to rest up and drink more water. People talk on their cell phones and try to make the best of a hot day. It is said that the heat index is inching over a hundred degrees.
Inside an area normally designated for fire trucks is now set up to mimic a evacuee staging area. Cots line the concrete floor and the fire trucks were pulled forward until nothing but the rear of the vehicles are adjacent to the garage doors.
Extras moved in and happily took seats on the cots, laying belongings down and some taking it as a opportunity to rest. It was not much cooler inside, but at least there was shade. Stand-ins for the lead actors come in and their positions are taped off - marks to line up properly for the cameras. After a few camera rehearsals director Reiner calls for lunch. It is now three o’clock. People could wait for a shuttle to carry them to the tents where lunch is being served by Ken & Arts Movie Catering. Some wait and others just make the walk.
The food served is hearty, tasteful and plentiful. There’s not a lot of time to eat but everyone makes use of what’s available, waiting to talk afterwards. Extras and crew take in roasted chicken and pork in addition to salad, desserts and rice or mashed potatoes. But a storm is approaching, the dark clouds providing plentiful shade. From time to time thunder sounds off in the distance, it won’t be long before it is near the production.
Everyone returns to the set feeling a little better, their stomachs full but the weight of the heat still upon them. Every few moments someone, crew or extras, raises their hand or arm to wipe sweat from their faces. From a distance the wiping resembles an uncoordinated symphony of sweat removal.
The storm has grown closer and numerous thunderbolts light up the sky. It looks remarkable from inside the fire station truck bay. The sky is bruised, yet pale blue, split by thick powerful thunderbolts, the fire trucks serving as black silhouettes against a dangerously encroaching sky.
“Production is shut down,” says Ralph, who works alongside director of photography Bill Sage.
Reiner approaches and asks how long. Ralph says that they must shut down when a storm is within ten miles of a production. Reiner asks again how long before they can begin shooting. Discussion centers on how far away the storm is by counting between thunder and lightning bolts.
Thunder sounds off and Reiner starts counting thinking that if he counts to ten then the storm is far enough away. Ralph tells him that counting to ten accounts only for one mile, not ten.
“We’re shut down for now,” Sage says.
They utilize the time to go over the shot one more time, even altering it and looking at script pages. Stand-ins, refereed to as Second Team, take their marks to line up a camera shot. The light has changed because the fire trucks are gone for an emergency call. Sage asks for a garage door to be raised more.
A short time later the fire trucks return and park in previous positions. Lighting is changed again. A two by three foot piece of white board is placed on the floor between the front two cots. This will be used to illuminate the scene. Sage asks for an 18k light to be set up by the fire truck and then someone suggests using the Blackjack. This moveable light source can be hand held or placed somewhere just outside the actors to light the shot. Sage agrees and they check its movement with the camera across the room getting an additional angle.
In the time it takes to make these movements and verify, the storm has moved far enough away in which to begin the first take.
“Okay, First Team,” someone yells. The stand-ins leave and lead actors Jay Ferguson and Lake Bell come in. Ferguson sits at the front cot, an extra sitting in front of him. There are script pages at the end of the second cot, the dialogue to take place between Ferguson and Bell.
Ferguson, originally from Dallas, Texas, stands and paces between the two cots, mumbling lines to himself. He wears a light brown tee shirt, Levi’s and brown boots. He looks like the everyman, muscular, rugged, thin eyes and speaks in a thick deep voice.
He sits down and introduces himself to the extra sitting facing him. Bell approaches, kneels and they quietly go over lines. Reiner asks if they are ready to begin the scene.
“Yes, sir,” Ferguson says. This will be his first scene of the day. It is also the first scene in the show in which he meets Bell’s character. Reiner returns to behind the monitors where he can view what the cameras are filming.

Background action begins; coordinated extras get up and walk from one side to the next, carrying fruit or a bag, to give the sense of activity. The camera starts from behind the parked fire truck on its track slowly, capturing the scene - a room full of cots and evacuees seemingly held captive. A boom mic is lowered and Ferguson paces again, back and forth. He sits and the extra is wiping his brow with a blue bandana. Ferguson improvs with the extra to fill time until Bell approaches.
“How long you been here?” Ferguson asks.
“Feels like three weeks or more,” the extra says, pleased by the improvisation.
“They aren’t keeping me here three weeks,” Ferguson replies. “That’s for sure.”
There’s a pause, the background action still taking place. Ferguson looks over the crowd.
“What did they tell you?” the extra asks Ferguson.
“Not enough,” he replies. “What did they say to you?”
“Said I might be sick or something,” the extra says.
The camera continues to move past Ferguson and Reiner says out loud “And she notices him.” Reiner’s voice will be replaced later in post-production.
Ferguson nods at the extra, serious. He sees Bell approaching.
From the other end of the firehouse Bell was relaxing on a cot with her son when she eyed Ferguson’s character, Richard Owen. She stands and walks between the rows of cots to meet him. She drops to one knee and strikes up a conversation.
“I saw you from back there,” she says. “Are you okay?”
“I twisted my knee a little,” he says. “Nothing serious.”
“Did they charge you?” she asks.
“They said they would if I did it again,” he says.
There’s a short pause but Bell never takes her eyes off him.
“So, why’d you do it?” she asks further. Ferguson looks around, watchful of everyone, agitated.
“To see the big whale,” he says sarcastically. “To see the Red Tide.”
Bell pauses briefly, then intones serious about wildlife explanations for what he saw.
“There is no Red Tide,” she finishes and Ferguson turns to look at her, happily surprised. He introduces his character to hers, shake hands, then stand up. He retrieves something from his book bag. It’s a notebook filled with pages of information that intrigues her, answers questions she’s had.
Director Reiner serves again as the sound of the intercom.
“Paging Richard Owen,” he says in a monotone voice.
Ferguson looks up, pretending to hear the intercom. From behind, two National Guard officers approach and take him away forcefully. Bells marvels at what she’s found in the notebook. Ferguson yells back at her.
“You saw it! Didn’t you?” he says excitedly.
Bell turns the pages until Reiner calls cut.
The scene gets replayed many times until everyone is happy with the rhythm. A light drizzle comes down but doesn’t affect the shoot or the next series of close up shots of the actors. Extras are asked to wait outside and they take refuge in the craft services provided by Reva. People are happy to enjoy soft drinks, eat some cookies or chew a little gum. It has been a long muggy day and everyone looks tired and in need of a cold, cold shower. They need to do the scene with everyone again and the extras move inside for another take. All goes well and the day ends. People shake hands and some embrace.
The day ends for the extras but the crew will head over to a house in Forest Hills for interior shooting over the next four hours. Then, the second day of shooting will start.
Extras make their way to the tents in which their day began. The air conditioning truck and its large mouth feeding tube are now gone. Trucks are pulling away. Some are being loaded for the next day’s moveable feast. It’s just after seven p.m.
Everyone gets in line inside the tent to hand over their paperwork in order to get paid. Any time worked after eight hours is considered time and a half, so the long day won’t be too bad for the money. If an extra brought props for the day’s shoot they were also compensated monetarily.
People leave and are told to call if they want to work the following Thursday. It’s not bad work if you can get it. And you might get to be on television.

NELSON OLIVER - FILMMAKER

2008-01-29T21:45:00.000-05:00

Determination is one thing but you have to admire a plan, or even vision. Nelson Oliver knows what he wants. He has since the early teens that is, to be a filmmaker. At 19, Oliver is a second year film student at UNCW directing a short not for a class project but for himself. He plans to complete the editing and use the film to apply to USC film school.
Not content to sit around with other students discussing what film should have won Best Picture in 1989, he set out to make his own film, diverting energy into something more productive.
“Many students don’t take advantage of the equipment to make films,” he says.
He’s not one to discuss, but rather, is the type of individual who has an idea and sees it through. He is essentially working outside the school’s film department and doing what any filmmaker would have to do, apply for permits, contact a casting agency. However, the process didn’t come without help from some of his professors, Glenn Pack loaned him a Frinell light and Frank Capra, Jr. put him in contact with a casting agency.
“Frank Capra, Jr. helped me out a lot on this short,” he says. “He’s the one that helped me get contacts like Johnny Griffin. Everyday I would stay after his class and get the information I needed.” Support from his professors came from Dave Monahan, Terry Linehan in addition to Glenn Pack.
He’s doing it on his own, away from everything, doing what independent filmmakers normally do. The young director is getting on-the-job training by doing it all himself, something that’s not easily taught in the classroom.
“With this film I wanted to see how efficacious I was in terms getting the shots I wanted,” he explains. “How well my vision was translated to the screen.”

On a bright morning last April at Greenfield Park he directs a scene from his film on a bridge deep in the park. Wearing jeans and a dark blue shirt he pulls his lengthening hair away from his eyes revealing a slightly terse brow. He’s not stressed or upset, just focused. There are shots to get, pulled from a notebook plotted out long before he and the crew arrived this morning.
The story, written by a roommate last year, behind this fifteen minute short concerns a submissive man who wants to drop everything to do stand up comedy but his subconscious won’t allow it.
Actors Devin McGee and Stacy Emery exchange lines walking across the faded and grey boards of a bridge that extends across part of the lake. It’s a beautiful view of the lake and elegantly quiet. In the water below turtles stick out their heads and ducks slowly move, barely making waves, their large feet paddling like a leaf flowing in the wind.
Oliver gets the shot and assistant director Luke Dalecki moves the dolly down the bridge, onto grass at the foot of the bridge. In high school Oliver saved up money to purchase a dolly, a guide rail that allows for a camera to move smoothly across its plane, and a digital camera. UNCW won’t allow students to use anything unless you’re in a production class.
Oliver sets up his shots and works the camera alone, making adjustments and directing the actors.
“I’m doing most of the camera work,” he explains. “In an ideal situation I’d want a camera operator. I learned that in high school, it takes too long to direct the actors, the camera operator, go back and look at it, when you’re recording it yourself you know if it works or not.”
There is no sign on his face of what should I do or where to put the camera. It’s as if he’s done this before, came down the night before and rehearsed. Taking away the fact that this is a very small crew the members carry on in a relaxed and business like manner, everyone in attendance to accomplish the same goal. They are enjoying the work but the goal is to get the work done, to create this film.
Once the dolly is in place (and waiting for park visitors to move past) the director gets his next shot with McGee delivering lines to Stacy. It’s a long take with McGee saying much of the lines. Oliver gets two more takes till he’s satisfied.
“That was perfect,” he says laughing a little. “That was really good guys.”
They decide to break for lunch. It’s just after twelve o’clock. Oliver asks who’s hungry and says he’s getting lunch.

Growing up in Allegheny County, on the North Carolina–Virginia border, Oliver worked through his high school years learning the equipment cutting his teeth shooting projects around the county. The high school he attended had a community college attached, a cyber campus. And Oliver’s boss was in charge of it.
“It paid really well but wasn’t creatively satisfying,” he says.
In high school Oliver had his own 12 – 15 person crew. “They really got into it, made it really fun.” Senior projects were presented to the school. The most videos done before was two and Oliver had completed five. It was his concentration in course studies but those projects were beginnings. One project specifically, was about lighting.
In high school the budding filmmaker saved up money and bought film equipment realizing the benefits of having his own. Oliver owns his own boom mike, a small crane that you can’t tilt, so he took a tripod head off and used to tilt with and a mini crane. The parents helped out a lot too, once seeing that their son had more than a passing interest in film. Anyone could suggest that it was risky. Oliver was shooting for the moon while other kids in town are looking for a vocation, let alone a career.
At an early age Oliver asked his parents how a film was made, specifically watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. They explained it as best they could, how the character gets from one place to another so quickly, how things are created for the film, or how Harrison Ford remember his lines.
“They explained to the best of their ability,” he says. “Of how a director shoots in takes and then all of it is edited.”
It didn’t make complete sense until Oliver saw a documentary on the making of Jurassic Park at the age of seven and things came together. While a lot of kids his age were digesting popular music he listened to a lot of film scores. It would be several more years before he knew what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

Oliver didn’t want to post flyers for actors. Most of the characters in the film are around thirty and he needed actors of such an age. He sought out Wilmington casting director Tracy Kilpatrick who was suggested by Capra. She’d never worked with a student before but sent the word through. It was a no pay production, productions that are good for building a resume for actors. All the actors are through her agency.
The shoot took place over the month of April. There were five locations total, Keenan auditorium at UNCW, inside and out, Greenfield & Hugh McRae Parks and downtown Wilmington.
“Downtown was rough, people kept asking if we were shooting One Tree Hill,” he says. “Finally, we just told people that we were. Cause we had the dolly out and the boom.” Oliver shifts gears in his mind, going from a humorous anecdote to one about creative fruition. “Its fun seeing how well the shots have turned out compared to the storyboards.”
The production was supposed to shoot downtown on a specific day but the director got all but one of the actors so he reworked the schedule. These are problems that filmmakers come up against on any size production.
Another location included the offices of the Insider’s Guide of Wilmington where shooting was tight to say the least, but scene-wise, was profitable.
“The contacts were what took the longest, meeting the right people, talking to the Wilmington film office, getting the permits written,” he says listing item after item as if there was so much more. “Getting the lights for shooting was one of the biggest difficulties.”
Shooting at Keenan was fortunate but the crew only had one day, April 13th to film. “The only day I could get,” he says. The scene is not terribly complex but required a lot of lighting to simulate performing in front of a large crowd. The shot involves dollying the camera back to reveal an actor buried in lights sweating it out in front of people, but namely, having a meltdown in his own mind.
“I think there were fourteen takes on that one,” he says about getting it right.
The character is doing an internal diagetic scene, a comedy routine actually, all in his head. Oliver went on to create a parallel between that scene and the final scene, the climax in which everything goes haywire.
“I created a parallel because this starts in the auditorium and mirrors the climax that takes place at the amphitheatre at Greenfield Park, both scenes are in theatres.”
Preparation is key. Over the years there have been stories written about productions where directors come on a set and find their vision at that moment. It may work for some, and not for others, but either way it could be costly in the matter of time and patience. On a film set time is a director’s enemy.
“Prep really helps. I write down all of my shots first and what I want to do. Then I just have a script supervisor and tell them what lines are to be said in the shot,” Oliver explains. “We’re going to redo all the sound in post.”
Oliver used a lot of extras, mostly his friends, recalling what he learned from The Wizard of Oz, where the same people were used over and over. He was appreciative of the fact that everybody showed up and helped out.

In Oliver’s bedroom the walls are lined with posters of films he clearly responds to, from classics to modern hits. There’s a variety to them but also the whimsy of adventure. There’s no need to mention titles because that would categorize him. He doesn’t care who knows what his tastes are, he knows what he wants to do in terms of telling stories. He clearly wants to do just that.
There are sketches that line the top of one wall that are conceptual designs for a sprawling adventure that he says will take some time to flesh out and write. He prefers to write his own material but also prefers to take his time, not wanting to rush.
“Before I shoot I do conceptual sketches, shot set-ups, storyboarding, preliminary sketches for scenes,” he says explaining the pre-planning. On his bed lies a notebook filled with small sketches of shots and description of what he plans to get. There is another project lying on the bed, and drawings, his mind poured out onto paper.
“That notebook is my life support,” he says.
He holds his camera, playing back scenes from the short film, take after take. The view finder is taped off to allow for understanding where the frame line will be when the film is completed. It’s the camera he’s had for several years now and appears as an extension of his hand.
A scene appears onscreen in which actor Devin McGee is arriving late to work and an actor in the background spills coffee on himself. It was something that was added, a surprise that was good enough that it added levity to a scene. A following set of takes shows the actor playing his boss who berates McGee for being late.
The actor traveled into town from DC that weekend, on a Sunday morning. “C’mon Miles get to work!” the older actor yells at McGee. McGee flinches. With each take the actor, who’d not had much rest, seemingly got more into the scene and appears as if he’s about to explode.
“He had many Red Bulls. He had to go to DC to shadow an actor for a role he’s taking as a military officer,” Oliver laughs. “I wanted to get him out of there as soon as possible.”
There’s something to be said about not just creative people but also energetic people, those with big ideas, of doing something above the norm. Some students were interested in what Oliver has done, realizing that if he could do it so could they. He’s an example of a self starter, someone who does more than talk about creating. Someone who set about to depend on himself to produce and not an institution.
Francis Ford Coppola, in the documentary Heart of Darkness about the struggle to complete Apocalypse Now, said that with technology anyone will be able to create their own films, that limitations will be reduced. It won’t make school obsolete, but it does put some power back into creative hands.
“I think it’s good that film school is focused on the business side of it,” he says. ‘But I think you need spark. It takes your attitude in terms of what you can do. Some students talk poorly of their projects and that they’ll never finish. Pessimism is one of my biggest pet peeves and I won’t have that. I think you could come without that spark and that Film School might ignite that but I think you’re better off if you have that already. If you look at the history, the filmmakers, they went in there generally knowing what they wanted to do.”
Oliver carefully pauses and then casually smiles.
“I don’t see myself doing the same job everyday.”

CD: BRMC "HOWL"

2008-01-29T21:35:00.001-05:00

On Howl, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club has musically taken a less sonic left turn. The band’s latest is night and day to previous releases which were comprised of bombastic garage rock and sugar surreal vocals.
It’s a hard sell for any band to change their sound (U2, Pop) with positive results. Perhaps it’s early enough in their career, or it’s that both previous releases and Howl are just that good, that BRMC have been able to get away with it. However, if you are married to the band’s original sound, Howl may come as a shock.
Howl is an album rich in texture, melding gospel, rock, soul, blues and a tiny dash of glam. It’s a moody recording at times, throwing at the listener rural imagery, prison walls, angels and devils, loss, religion and addiction. The opening track opens with a harmonious Time won’t save our souls, and you feel taken, strapped down, to a church. Who knows if I’ll see you again? ends the track. And the trip begins. The album is akin to walking in on a church service one moment and into a smoky dive the next. Howl is about choices, good and bad, and we deal with them at the end of the day, the consequences. Its lyrics are pregnant with doubt, regret, reality and finality.
‘Devil’s Waitin’ is Howl’s strongest track. The title says so much but it is an achingly beautiful one man hymnal about a life filled with error. The vocals float around as a voice on the wind accompanied by hypnotically gentle guitar. It’s powerful in the way that ‘One’ (U2) or ‘I’m On Fire (Springsteen) is. It’s a song about a life filled with mistakes and how they’re passed on, learned by association. Out on the corner with cast iron blood/They say I might die I may be cold/ I may have no Jesus I may have no soul/In prison I hear there’s time to be good/But the first thing you see is the last thing you should. The narrator sings of a fatal choice, I’ve roamed from the reasons and roamed to the gun.
‘Still Suspicion’ is a restless number about living alone and the reality of the world’s brutal truth – that you’re on your own, when the ability to trust has been ripped away, You take them on your own until you die. Cold living. The title track is desperate, longing to be a good person, to be trusted, still unsure about the future, I just want to be the one thing that doesn’t fade. ‘Restless Sinner” cuts to the quick, about a life in hell, in which there’s no talking your way out, He’s been waiting with the blind just to find a place to hide his ghost and The door’s been closed since he’s walked in/He’ll greet you with a cross and a sickle as he helps you in.
‘Fault Line’ is a real gem, a song coupling drug addiction and paternal anxieties about them finding out. I’ve been waitin on the fault line/let the needle take me on/Racing with the rising tide to my father’s door/Never wanted from another man/Never wanted from my own…See my shadow from below. ‘Gospel Song’ sings resolutely, And I will stand with Jesus, till I can’t take another stone.
‘Ain’t No Easy Way Out’ warns about falling love and it’s the album’s wall shaker, bristling with harmonica and crashing drums. ‘Sympathetic Noose’ could easily be a lost recording by T.Rex but it’s an acoustic number wrapped in a funky drum beat laced with maracas, I gotta make sense of ou/Cos I don’t know how to be careful/I don’t know how to be there for/I gotta feeling I can’t prove/I gotta sympathetic noose. The vocals sound partly monotone, nasally and come out of the speakers like that little girl lost to the other side in Poltergeist.
Although musically it sounds nothing like Johnny Cash, his presence is everywhere. Songs about failing, finding Jesus and hope are there. Amongst the detritus there’s still the tiny glimmer of hope, of redemption.
The cd packaging resembles how vinyl albums were once put together and although the rerecording is modern, Howl sounds as though it was unearthed from someone’s trunk, curiously devoid of analog hiss and scratches. It’s timeless and the only detraction is the lack of lyrics, lyrics which read like poetry.
They can be found (and many more) at lyricsmania.com Thank you Internet.

FICTION: MOMENTS THE DEVIL LIFTS AWAY

2008-01-29T21:34:00.000-05:00

By A. Kay Soh

“I think the Lord wants us to build instead of buy,” a woman says out loud on a cell phone. She’s standing in a hallway and talking louder than necessary. We all now have the ease of overhearing everyone’s personal life. All these things we aren’t meant to hear but do. You get annoyed just the same. You keep walking trying to tune it out, but it’s impossible.
It’s a sound bite you can’t seem to remove from memory. You can’t remember anything about the Magna Carta but that little nugget about the Lord thinking it’s better to build than to buy is etched in your memory solid. The Lord’s right by the way.
The devil is in the details, the little things that carry you a long time, things you remember and maybe are more important than the Magna Carta, those little moments of connecting – if only a short while to help keep us sane.
It’s all these little moments that breathe life, moments that make up the larger story, the song. A string of incidents unrelated that make a story. For better or worse, all these moments will be lost in time and who’s there to remember? The newspaper gets some of them printed and it’s gone from moments on microfiche to the vast catalog of the Internet.
On every street there’s a moment worth knowing about. Every night, life breeds thousands of little moments that you’ll never see or hear. Multiply this by all the towns and cities you can’t be in at once. All this life, all these stories.
You observe and you extract from everything around you and you wonder how this came to be, this peripheral knowledge of conversations around you and people’s actions. You know it’s a blessing and a curse to remember so much trivial information. You observe. It’s what you do.

“All I know is there better be Foosball tables in there or there’s gonna be a problem,” a guy says across the street from you on the way to Firebelly’s. It’s a group of people, six or seven. They’re moving a click faster than you and a friend, parallel across the sidewalk. You have to cross the street to go into a bar and want to avoid their noise, to avoid them. You go to one of your regular spots and they are just ahead of you in line, getting ID checks. The bar is an assemblage of every walk of life so it makes no difference that their group is there.
Standing inside later with a beer you see a familiar face. A brunette. Why so recognizable? Where do you know that face? She’s attractive...and then you realize, its Larissa from the Average Joe reality show. She’s the one that burned the guy from Boston that was so funny, that memorably said wicked to punctuate his sentences, the guy that half the planet was probably pulling for. She sent him packing to Boston and ran off with the pretty blond construction guy. The same blond guy that blew Larissa off when he found out she used to date Fabio.
Man, Fabio. That guy’s not even competition, that’s just weird. How can he be threatened by Fabio? Think about it, Fabio. That’s got tell me everything about Fabio written all over it. Oh, the stories she could have spilled on that guy.
But you give Larissa credit; she’s still with the blonde construction guy, in a bar in downtown Wilmington no less. Making it work. She’s taller than he is and keeps looking at him as if waiting for an answer. Maybe bored. And they all eventually play Foosball.

People come and go. They use the night to forget the day and escape their lives for a little, slipping just a little with the help of drink specials and their friends cheering them along. Everyone finds a home somewhere else and they go there week after week to see a musician or to play pool. Ghosts aren’t the only ones that haunt.
You see some of the same people but never when the sun is out. You have your friends during the day and you have your friends in the dark and it’s a comfort. Some nights go on as good nights do and you have long nights listening to music entrenched in smoky rooms. You don’t want to see the people you drink with during the day because you wouldn’t know them. You know them with something glass in their hand and a sense of ease that goes with the haze of drink and sometimes the little pills. The wash of relaxation that hits you at the right time and if you could just stay there as long as possible, in the dark, in the smoke, talking till you’re hoarse because the music’s loud and feeling the warmth of it all just sets the world level for a change. Makes you forget the routine, the death of a friend or puts you back where you want to get away from cause you’re staying too busy. But busy is good. Activity is good. You’re at a point in life where you’re too high to come back down. And coming down is hard.
You need things to even you out. You need drinks. You need time. But it’s better to be alive. Better to not have to beg. You’ve watched it slip away to somewhere else.
You’ve seen the roadkill and felt for it. The squirrel flattened on the asphalt with one arm pointed straight up as if reaching out to someone, like those hands in the Sistine Chapel. That scrawny, claw equipped arm, reaching out to the Lord and maybe the Lord took its spirit away carefully or ignored it altogether. You’d like to think that something helped it during the agony, in that dark cold place all alone facing finality, facing the end alone. But you know that you are only guessing about the unknown. About those dark places.
But still there’s a comfort in dark places. You like to hide and to be found in dark places. You like the night because it’s comfortable, it’s relaxing and there’s always a secret in the night. Always a disguise before the dawn. You make them leave before the dawn. You never take them home. You go anywhere but there. Your home is private, not to be invaded. You drift in their sheets and pay no attention there, no memories if at all possible, nothing to remind you. You like the comfort but fear the responsibility, fear the closeness. Never again, you swear an oath. You closed up shop for good. But sometimes.

She dances on the wooden floor in a club that is bare tonight. She dances with her friend and they are filled with drink. The humidity found its way in and is doing well to defeat the a/c. She dances like there’s no tomorrow and the dogs have crowded around the floor, all watching the only females in sight. They have a right to and a meaning to. She is more beautiful than the other. One is a brunette and the other, She, has blonde hair so light it’s almost silvery. She has hair that seems to glow. She’s having a good time and employs everyone as much as she can.
You see and mind your business. You are not a dog. Let the dogs sniff and play and you could care less. You never cared for the game. Let them come to you. You are confident and don’t have a game to run, a line to spit.
You order and play pool with a stranger. The stranger leaves. The dj puts on a mix cd of standards and it’s entertaining. You get to listen to ‘Baby Got Back’ again. It gets more airplay than ‘Amazing Grace’ at religious functions. The girls have a good time. You play pool alone. Your friend comes over and says he’ll be at the bar, says he’ll have one waiting over there for you. You just want to play and be alone in the dark of the room.
She watches you. She looks at you and is dancing with her friend and one of the dogs stand near by trying get in there somehow. She dances with her back to the dog and he tries hard to get in there. She keeps watching you and you emit a smile that is part laughter and part derision. She smiles wide and dances harder. The other dogs watch the scene go on.
She comes over, a little out of breath and a thin layer of sweat covers her face. She’s a little shorter than you and looks up dead into your eyes and never away. But sometimes -
“I wish they’d stop playing this song,” she says loudly. It’s loud in the lounge but she’s talking a little too loud. You like it, think it’s funny. She’s very attractive, a little sweaty from dancing, but you can tell she’s got a sense of humor about her.
“The radio plays it all the time,” you say back. She’s looking dead at you like you’re in a play and forgotten a line. The song is ‘Feel Good, Inc.’ and it’s that part where the guy says ah ah ah aaaah.
“Yeah, the radio,” she says. You smile back because you can see she’s got a good buzz running now. She’s on the good wave.
“Why can’t the dj play some Willie Nelson?” you say back.
“Yeah! Exactly.” She lifts her hand in the air for a high five. “Well, I just wanted to come over and talk to you,” she says.
“Thanks,” you say back.
“I’ll let you get back to your pool playing,” she says.
“I’ll let you get back to dancing,” you say back. She laughs at this.
“Bye,” she says, lingering a little longer.
You smile and say, “Okay,” and she trots back to the dance floor and picks up where she left off. The dogs look at you, unsure, and then begin the heat again. She keeps here eyes on you while dancing with a dog, only letting him get so close. You set up a pool shot and scratch. You down your shot and start on your beer.
The pool table is messing up because you can’t get the cue ball back. So you finish the game by making every remaining ball the cue ball until all the balls are sunk. You join your friend at the bar and sit there talking. You’ve known your friend for a long, long time, grew up together and you both haven’t really changed. Just added on the mileage of life. Everything just rolls off. You both watch the scene. The girls kiss each other on the dance floor and the dogs think it’s the most amazing thing, like She made something vanish or she made a midget tall. It’s just silly, like a parlor trick. It happens from club to club, done to titillate, done for free drinks. She seems to do it for her friend, the same one who gets pouty when it has little effect for her. But what they don’t see is that’s She’s energetic, She’s funny, friendly to everyone. Dances to every song. She’s a machine and there’s an invisible spotlight on her, probably day or night. The dogs sit staring like mountain lions on the Discovery Channel.
You and your friend don’t pay much attention to the kissing, just keep talking.
The brunette comes over to the bar when the excitement is over and looks sheepish, like she’s embarrassed. You’re sitting at the bar talking. She stands with a mischievous grin, as though she’s done something to be guilty about.
“I’m a good girl!” she says, as if to excuse herself.
“Hey, what would your mom think,” your friend says. He’s just kidding but the brunette looks bothered. She leaves not long after that.
It’s closing time and the lights come up on the small crowd. The dogs are still sweating her but She comes to you for no real reason you can think of, stands next to you and leans close with an arm around you. You put your arm around her waist and she lays her head on your shoulder. It feels good holding the small of her back. You can smell her hair and it is good. No smoke, just that intoxicating smell of a woman’s hair. She won’t move away, just keeps her head here, talking junk to your friend. He’s teasing her but She doesn’t move. You start to rub her head, your coarse hands running over smooth hair.
These moments of warmth that have more sensuality than random engagements. These moments of affection. Details. You think about the dogs still in the room and the things they must have said, prepared plays by the players. But you have your own play in mind, your own truth to spill, When you get done with these players, those sitting, watching you like prey, like dogs in heat. Wasting time. We don’t need lights like glitter, we can dance on the sidewalk of lower Market Street as the wild move on by. But you waste your time with amateurs because maybe you think that’s all your worth.
The dogs file out quickly and the house music plays a little lower. The bouncer plays around on the microphone with the dj and he starts beat boxing. It sounds old school and it sounds really good. The dj cuts over it. The guy should swing it at the club some night, let others dig on it. When he’s done everyone yells and claps, then smiles a little and goes back to work.
She hugs on him, tippy-toed and hangs off him because she’s five foot and he’s a mountain. Just a few people hanging at the bar, those closing up the shift. You stand by the stool finishing your beer. She comes up behind and squeezes you low, hanging on again. You wonder where did it come from? You did nothing. Your friend gives you an I don’t know. You stay reserved just the same. She kisses your neck.
Your friend is picking at her and She cuts on him. He’s messing with her mind. She stops talking to your friend on a dime and looks at you.
“I was gonna come and talk to you,” she says, “but you seemed like you were doing fine on your own.”
“I was,” you say back but she looks as though she wanted another answer. “But you could have come over. Company’s good.”
She flashes a wide grin again. And quietly says, okay.
Your friend suggests doing something, going to his place and watching an old movie. She says okay but that She’s gotta eat. There’s some food at his house but it’s sparse. Combat cooking. No problem.
“You wanna ride with me?” she asks.
“Okay.”

CD - LIVING THINGS

2008-01-29T21:29:00.001-05:00

Living Things garnered a lot of attention for two reasons; the fact that their record was delayed due to record label politics and well, the band’s own politics. Simply put, they won’t be throwing any parties for President Bush anytime soon.
But those facts and sentiments don’t really matter. What matters is that Ahead of the Lions is a spot on gravelly rock and roll record thick with anti everything and heavy on velvety smooth attitude.
The tracks borrow much from the past while addressing the present. You can’t help but think of the New York Dolls, Blue Oyster Cult, The Cramps, The Rolling Stones and their hometown heroes the MC5. The album is a political diatribe in the form of modern music.
On ‘I Owe’ the government target couldn’t be any clearer and its revolving guitar riff is punctuated with a slurred I Owe. We all got to lay low, They got you under control Lillian Berlin sings.
Ahead of the Lions is littered with young people shipped off and ready to die, political intrusion, social hypocrisy, new revolution and pure angst. Being a new band against the war isn’t anything new recently but what propels Lions ahead is its lack of posturing and torment. The frustration, on many songs, is sung with restraint and melody alone. Its protest is evident in the lyrics but disguised in medium tempo guitar riffs and textured, low sung, vocals.
Coming on first like another flush record above the pop fray but after several turns the thing sounds like an animal seeking prey. You have to marvel at the control, ignoring the notion to just explode and terrorize. Instead, songs slither along with fuzzed out and mechanical guitar parts. On ‘God Made Hate’ the guitar layers on like a bee humming through the world’s largest bullhorn while Berlin saunters through lyrics.
The band doesn’t really explode until ‘No New Jesus’ coupling layered guitar with choking vocals, To play God you must round up your lambs. ‘March in Daylight’ operates on typical structure, subtle verses and culminating to explosive choruses. The album keeps building towards its finish. ‘On All Fours’ is the most virulent, And the right wing ate the world on all fours…Turn in your neighbors on all fours. It’s powerful enough to make Social Distortion proud. Berlin sings in a screaming whisper, a cross between David Johansen and Mike Ness at his most aggressive and Scott Hill (Fu Manchu) when the songs lay a little low. It’s on the last track, ‘I Wish the Best For You,’ that the band mixes up it’s heaviest music with it’s most solemn and guttural vocals, mixing up sexual metaphors and fighting.
Ahead of the Lions is like a fevered dream, at some points a meditative ride and then a fist fight. Protest in a rock and roll record hasn’t sounded so meaningful and cool in a long time.

CD REVIEW - RES "How I Do"

2008-01-29T21:27:00.000-05:00

RES
How I Do
2001

In a time where product placement and market placement wasn’t the intrusion it is today, How I Do, may have generated more attention and been given a greater push by Res’ record label.
Released in the spring of 2001, the track ‘They-Say Vision’ received minor airplay on MTV, mostly in the fringe hours, but it was an on-air track. But that song, like much of the album, must have been a hard sell in an era of pop divas and ever present catchy singles.
It’s not to say that the album isn’t catchy, just not obnoxiously so. What it lacked was the success, or cheese, factor that modern R&B sometimes falls on to be successful. While R. Kelly may drone on about hiding in the closet endlessly, Res would sing about it concisely and with a better soundtrack. She doesn’t need gimmicks and sings openly about the bullshit in relationships and life in general.
‘Golden Boys’ tears down the plastic model types, whose refrain, ‘Life ain’t a video’ carries the chorus to proper conclusion. ‘Let Love’ works against an eerie Portishead looped melody with a simple scratchy beat. On ‘The Hustler’ the playfulness of her vocals doesn’t betray the attitude. Title track ‘How I Do’ mixes light guitar and dusty scratches dropped in between staggered beats.
Relationships get plenty of coverage on the album. On ‘Ice King’ she sings with tender restraint, How can we grow when we’ve only begun…Loving you don’t make no sense. ‘700 Mile Situation’ is a take on distant relationships, easily the album’s most complicated track. It’s catered with sugar tinged vocals that are half spoken and sung, Everybody wants to know what’s wrong/700 hundred mile situation…Silhouettes painted on the wall/How many times can I say I miss you?...Why can’t you stay with me tonight/What’s your soul taste like, baby? Res takes a run down topic and floats it on the air musically, drifting like a whisper in a lovers ear.
But what sends the album over the top are Res’ subtle vocals. Her voice is sultry and stated, a mixture of Erykah Badu and Stevie Nicks and How I Do is clearly an alternative to modern R&B. She mixes up old school soul, ragged beats and a little rock and roll where funk politely merges with melody. Res is no Mary J. Blige vocally, content to sing smoothly and avoids testifying and over singing to convey emotion. She doesn’t show off, doesn’t have to, and maintains vocals within the confines of each song. Each track is its own character.
But How I Do is hard to typify with all its influences, just as Living Colour’s Vivid was hard to pigeonhole in a particular category. Perhaps that’s what keeps the album fresh.

LUNAR PARK

2008-01-29T21:26:00.000-05:00

With Lunar Park author Bret Easton Ellis comes to terms with his father and being one in a convoluted memoir slash ghost story. The novel is unconventional to say the least, not a hybrid, but a mixed convention utilizing well traveled themes and parts of the author’s life to create fiction. Lunar Park blurs those lines, fusing genres around a narrator hard to like or even trust.
Ellis quickly found fame in his early twenties with the success of Less Than Zero, a wandering novel about debauchery amongst wealthy Los Angeles youth of the early eighties he knew up close. Ellis was lauded in the media for a lifestyle he lived and helped create, partying with young celebrities and garnering more attention than contemporaries such as Jay McInerney. It would be American Psycho that solidified the author’s notoriety, bringing riches and vilification at the same time. “It was the year of being hated,” he writes. That novel’s reputation and its subject matter would also help propel Lunar Park.
In the book’s first thirty pages Ellis is seemingly writing an unabashed memoir, reveling in his success, drugs, partying in the eighties, men and women slept with and the ridiculous amount of attention he received. Somehow lasting well into the nineties, the fame and “wistful attitude” towards excess crumbled during a book tour for his last novel. “I was radiating the numb, burned out cool so popular during that moment in the culture…I was winning at a game in which there were no winners,” he admits.
Ellis decides to clean up, go straight, and reconnects with a welcoming old girlfriend who was always endeared to him. With her he has a son but decidedly no contact with. He quickly settles down with his new family in a wealthy slice of suburbia, a world of children on antidepressants, nannies, parents trick or treating by SUV, obscenely sensitive teachers and the parents who see their kids as ornaments. It rings familiar. The children of Less Than Zero have become their parents to a degree. Ellis finds it all so boring compared to his old life and falls back to familiar patterns, even having an affair with a college student where he teaches once a week.
Then it becomes dicey. Young boys in the area go missing, a student ends up murdered, e-mails concerning Ellis deceased father; a stalker named Patrick Bateman and continued familial tension. As in American Psycho, the narrator’s legitimacy is questionable but trustful enough to go along for the ride. The peculiarity of Lunar Park is that it’s filled with references to Ellis’ previous novels and characters, borrowing much from his own mythology. Patrick Bateman and the detective are there. ‘Disappear Here’ is back from Zero. It works as an ever growing storm that will be familiar to readers of The Shining and The Dark Half. At its heart Lunar Park is a personal ghost story rather than a literal one, although Ellis does have the family house fumigated for believing that it’s haunted. It’s straight out of Poltergeist.
Still, there’s more at work here, culminating in the relationship with his son, “Daddy, I’m scared” the young boy says. “Get used to it. It never leaves,” Ellis replies with brutal honesty and frailty. It’s there that he finally binds with the boy. And there’s dealing with the memory of his father, the fact that he can never get away from him. He writes, “We learned from our father’s behavior, that the world lacked coherence and that within this chaos we were doomed to failure, and this realization clouded our every ambition.”
Ellis has maintained that American Psycho was about his old man, the book an exorcism and explanation. The novel has followed him just as the memory of his father and Ellis’ relationship with his son brings this to fruition. Lunar Park also feels like an exorcism and the period after a meltdown. It’s not about redemption but accepting trauma and moving forward. Ellis’ loss seems less like the loss of someone but the loss of his own youth, his innocence and the years of pain dressed in pharmaceutical band-aids.
What’s interesting is Ellis’ rule breaking and Dutch-like approach to writing about his life and inability to deal with personal pain. Lunar Park is the first day of a new life, a metaphor for a new Ellis, where he resides in 2005. The novel’s dénouement twists and turns much in the way Jacob’s Ladder keeps you wondering.
Ellis’ writing has changed greatly from the sparseness of Less Than Zero and The Rules of Attraction. At the time Ellis was praised more for subject matter and style than the actual writing. In the early eighties Ellis paved the way for writers such as Chuck Palahniuk and eerily vacant characters. He still loves the details and is darkly sarcastic. There’s always something sinister in the way Ellis writes and with Lunar Park he’s provided enough to interest fans and its intriguing enough for those only partially aware of his work.

ARTIST NORM BRYANT

2008-01-29T21:24:00.001-05:00

“I only go into the ocean about waist deep,” Norm Bryant says. “I love the ocean but I’m scared of it at the same time. It’s beautiful.”
He’s referring to his fear of water, and more importantly, the fear of sharks. Those two things are a constant in his life. His Internet icon is the fearsome image of a great white shark’s head bursting from the water, a row of gnashing teeth. For the cause of such frustration Bryant seems content to keep it close by.
“I love the ocean but am unable to enjoy it,” he says. “I’m looking around all the time.”
He created the art on this month’s cover years ago, ‘Shark Ride,’ as a reminder of his fear and the capability to overcome them, thinking about what it would be like to ride such an incredible creature, specifically a great white shark. His friends thought it odd that he’d do such a drawing, and even stranger the idea for a tattoo of a great white extending along his upper arm and around the shoulder. Perhaps it’s merely respect for such a powerful and singular creature or just the fascination.
“I’m terrified of them, coming from the north,” he jokes. Hailing from Buffalo, he explains that the ocean wasn’t close by but the movies were, citing Jaws and Deep Blue Sea. And Shark Week on the Discovery Channel.
“I try to watch that every year,” he says.
Norm wants to overcome that fear, believing that’s why he dreams about it. And he’s always wanted to go to South Africa and get into a shark cage.
“I’ll probably have a heart attack but if I could do it with a little insurance, the shark cage,” he says, “I’d do it.”
His determination to face a particular fear is comparable to the images in some of his work. There’s a steady theme of strength in pieces and in his work you can see he has a firm grasp of the subconscious, of emotional subtext. Dreams serve as a bountiful supply of ideas and images for his artwork.
“I try to remember my dreams,” he says. “As soon as I get up and I sketch what I dreamed.” It’s something he made a habit long ago.
If one were to surmise about Bryant’s creations one might come away feeling he’s disturbed, does his work while under the influence. It is quite the opposite, as he has never taken drugs and simply offers his take on what he sees, whether it is dark or inspirational. Bryant is a humble artist, always appreciative and taken aback by compliments about his work.
His work stands in stark contrast to his demeanor to be sure. But it wasn’t always the case. There was a period time in which he didn’t draw anything, for nearly two years.
“I didn’t really have anything to say,” he says. “It was a dark period for a while.” That all changed within the last year when he met his current girlfriend, who seemingly pulled him out of a self imposed period of seclusion. This period of renewal has led to new opportunities and the onset of creativity.

Norm sits at a kitchen table smoking a cigarette. A small bird chirps politely in a nearby birdcage. In the living room are a few creations, the portrait of David Letterman. It is striking for the comedian’s overzealous smile and centered gap in his teeth. It’s also a piece that Norm spent three months on, a drawing comprised solely of dots. The style is referred to as pointillism. The art is exquisite and one has to stand close to recognize the immense detail. Also evident are features in the Letterman drawing, they accentuate the television host’s personality in addition to physical presence. Norm has captured Letterman’s boisterous nature, his comedic smugness and affable smile.
He’s done similar works based on Elvis and Howard Stern that also capture their distinct personalities. The Stern piece is close up, peering into eyes framed by glasses that are peering right back at the viewer. It encapsulates Stern’s notorious ability to stab people with his questions, eyes staring down the bridge of his nose. The ‘Elvis’ is the late seventies Elvis we have come to know as an example of the excess of success, the drugged out and reclusive King. One almost has to be told it is Elvis because the image of the fallen singer is a little deranged, frazzled and manic. It’s beautifully troubled to say the least, but once again Norm has captured a person in the moment or period of life, akin to how Hirschfield captured the essence of celebrities in his drawings.
The close study aspect of Norm’s work is a profitable trait, one that is productive and slightly troublesome when it comes to paying attention. He says that he tends to drift off when talking to someone, he doesn’t mean to, just begins to artistically analyze the person, seeing what it is about them that makes them who they are. It’s this different type of attention that allows him to create a drawing that shows off a person’s individuality. He tries to show things that people don’t normally see.
“I spend a lot of time studying them,” he says. “What I can put on paper that makes them different.”
Norm also tends to spend a lot of time when working on pieces, taking the time to get something right. Sometimes with a piece he’ll work on it for a while and then let sit for a long time, let the idea gestate or allow for him to bring other accents to the finished image. He likens it to kids, taking care to spend a lot of time and attention.
“If something doesn’t look right I am hesitant to show it,” he says. “I am very critical of my own work.”
He’s proud of his work but simultaneously self deprecating and always thinking the work could be better. Several times he mentions wanting to draw them again, perhaps not seeing what others do. It’s that type of criticism and dedication that keeps Norm motivated.
“My heart will always be in this,” he says. “Perhaps too much.”
Another thing is progression. He cites an art teacher who advised students to keep everything they drew to see how they’ve progressed, to see where they came from.

Norm has a palette of varying styles, caricature drawings of known people, eclectic and edgy comic book images – not your superhero stylings but those that are fantastic and whimsically dark and paintings that are hopeful and troubled all at once. Having spent a lot time working with pencils and charcoal Norm has begun to work with paint. His first oil painting is of a person caught standing down a wave knee deep in a body of water. Another swell grows in the distance. It’s simply called ‘Perseverance.’
“In life you come up against a lot of drama, a lot to overcome,” he says. “We all do. You live and learn from mistakes.”
He’s drawn since an early age and mentions both his mother and father as influences. His mother made ceramics and his father did cartoons. As a young artist he would draw Modigliani’s work. And like many artists, he did art for friends, giving away pieces he was unhappy with. Friends also asked him to design tattoos.
“It stuck with me through school,” he says. “I didn’t really know what I could do with it at the time.”
For a while he gave up on drawing between high school and college because it was more of a hobby than something he viewed as an applied skill. College gave exposure to different ideas, and although he began in graphic design, the idea of entering the business world wasn’t all that appealing.
“I wanted to be somewhat independent,” he says. “Do my own thing.”
While attending college in Buffalo, New York, Norm switched his major from graphic design to theatre design.
He found his way into theatre as manager for campus entertainment handling shows ranging from Oliver Stone to Chris Rock and George Carlin. Norm graduated with a degree in theatre design.
But while as an art student a professor suggested switching to another university in order to study under a specific professor. The professor felt that Norm’s style of art work could easily lend itself to a magazine like Rolling Stone. But he was more interested in theatre by then. It’s something he partially regrets now, but knows he followed his heart at the time.
“I didn’t really want to do that,” he says. “I wanted to get into film more too.” But a friend in California who worked for WB Animation told Norm it was less about talent and more about who you knew. He wasn’t sure if he could swing working there and trying to get on a production, possibly working for free, at the same time. So, like many creative people, he made the move to Wilmington to get work in a creative field.
“If you have talent, then you let that talent take you where you’re meant to be,” he says.
While in college Norm tried his hand at writing a screenplay that crosses genres and mixes philosophy and religion. It was a surreal and philosophical story involving a cowboy who travels from California and ends up in a magical town inhabited mostly by heavenly beings he believes to be real people. He went so far as to create conceptual art for the script which led to creating art for a comic book idea.
“I bounce from idea to idea, sometimes never fully completing a piece,” he says. “I just get a lot of ideas and want to work on them all.”
Recently, a friend in Germany asked him if he could take the screenplay and translate it into a play. While certain aspects have changed from its original conception, now being set in modern Germany, the general story remains. It is currently in production with shows to start in the spring.

One thing Norm is definitely sincere about is the approach to drawing people, defying the stereotypical need to draw everyone as ‘beautiful’ and in perfect form. His images reveal people realistically, as in everyday life. In ‘Lady at the Window’ the female form is far from the thin body type projected in lingerie catalogs. It prominently shows a full figured woman, shapely.
“To me that’s beautiful, that’s a normal woman,” he says. He drew the piece specifically without facial features so viewers didn’t linger on her face and saw the female in a natural way. “No face, no hair, just a shape.”
That approach is just one of the many he uses. The bulk of his drawings have a fluid or natural flow to them, whether in facial accents or in an image’s movement itself. In much of the work there is the sense of vibrancy and energy coupled with frustration. The style of his work recalls Philip Burke (Rolling Stone) and Ralph Steadman (Hunter S. Thompson). Its surreal nature, coupled with dreams, blends peace with discomfort to creature fantastic images that engage.
“A lot of my stuff is surreal,” he says. “But I like to call it escapism. It’s a mixture of different things.” A lot are comprised of similar color tones, finding that when he put them together there was a similar theme. Not exactly a concept, it’s a template of free flow, a vibe that displays ‘whatever you’re thinking.’ In many pieces the end result is relaxing and confounding, subtle complexity that gets the brain moving.
In addition to creating images for his script, Norm sketched a variety of ideas for a comic book idea he worked on with a friend. The interest in comic art was to be short lived but the results were positive. The images blend Asian sensibilities, strength and the comically hellish. What stands out is the use of perspective.
“I like using perspective in my drawings,” he says. “I think of it as being a fly on the wall, seeing things from a different angle.” The drawings lend themselves to fantastic or elaborate storyboard work and avant garde comic art.
But the stylization and thinking that goes into comic art, composing much information into single images and frames was practice for Norm’s current endeavor. Finding a common bond with coworker Shawn Matthews the two have paired up to create an online t-shirt company, Veriteez.com, that produce original images taking aim at politically or socially subjects. Targets such as Hollywood and inflated celebrities like Paris Hilton will serve as fodder fusing humor, hipness and statements. The new business is another way for Norm to sooth his creative needs and says something in the modern culture and climate.
“Shawn really liked my art and had the idea,” he says. “It’s a good combination of his business sense and my creativity.”
The images are both tongue-in-cheek and humorous, concocting left of center images to create apparel that is devoid of brand and at the same time says something about the person wearing it. Norm is not apprehensive about his creations, believing that something different is needed today in the constant string of homogenization. Yet, he still remains humble about compliments and respectful of others opinions.
“I never thought people would have any interest in my stuff because it’s a little crazy,” he says. “My folks look at it strangely.” And although Norm has grown accustomed to people’s reactions he knows that his work has evolved, gaining depth and meaning.
“People don’t say anything but it’s all in their eyes,” he says with a laugh. And once you see Norm’s work it stays with you.

HASHING

2008-01-29T21:18:00.000-05:00

from Avenue Magazine March 2006

“Where’s Penile Dementia?” someone asks. There’s a line of parked cars and P.D.’s convertible is at the end of the row. Jagermonster moves towards P.D.’s convertible to see. Jager is gone a few minutes until everyone moves from behind the car to check themselves. They see Jager coming back to the group of runners now, literally no expression his face.
“What’s he doing, drinking?” someone asks.
“He’s naked,” Jager says.
The group of runners has gathered at the observation area at the airport for the afternoon just off North Kerr. It’s a cold and very grey Saturday. Rain has been called for since Friday, eighty per cent chance, but the hashers are ready to run, rain or shine. Tastes Like Chicken wraps her arms tight to stay warm. Jager is antsy to get moving cause its cold and everyone dressed a little too light. Arapaho is the only runner who doesn’t show any signs of getting cold. A plane taxis down the runway and sits idle, waiting for clearance.
P.D. steps away from his car in only jogging shorts and shoes. He puts on a shirt and returns a ball cap and glasses to his head. He’s come to Wilmington by way of San Francisco by way of Australia. P.D. discovered Hashing in San Francisco and is the group’s informal leader and Svengali. He comes over and announces the hash will start about fifteen minutes late today. He’s got to go back and pick up Prancer who’s still left in the field.
“Prancer is waist deep in the swamp out there,” P.D. says. “We’re going to have to cut out half the trail today.” This pleases everyone now that the rain is starting to come down and it keeps getting colder. The plane takes off with a loud burst and in seconds is completely out of sight. Jager pulls a sweat jacket from his truck.
P.D. leaves and returns a few minutes later with Prancer who doesn’t disappoint. His clothes are marred with streaks of mud and clearly wet from roaming in the woods checking out trail. P.D. and Prancer will lay trail for the hashers today. They’ll take off ahead of the runners laying trail markers with flour and chalk marked with discarded pieces of drywall. The marks are left on concrete and asphalt along with piles of flour placed on grass and trees.
Hashers run along the side of the road, through woods, anywhere, looking for these markers which lay out a trail to a cooler of beer. Sometimes the markers lead to false trails and the hashers must go back a ways to start again at the most recent checkpoint. Depending on the length of the trail determines how many beer checkpoints there will be.
“We’re a running club with a drinking problem,” Flash Me First maintains. That’s the Hash’s unofficial motto. Flash Me First and Jagermonster founded the Wrightsville Beach Hash House Harriers Club last fall. The two have been friends for many years and were introduced to hashing in Charlottesville, Virginia.
The club is essentially a running outfit. But at the core it’s about comradeship. And drinking beer. The group of friends meets casually, most really strangers at first. It’s an informal club, no real rules or competition. The goal is to run, drink beers and have fun. They meet once a week, have done so since last fall, and someone serves as a hare who lays trail for the runners to follow. The person, or persons, who lay trail, are called hares and the hashers are the runners who follow the trail to seek the hares and the beer.
“It’s about the camaraderie,” Jagermonster says. “There’s no competition between anybody.”
He’s correct. Anyone is welcome. The club is newly formed and is on its fourteenth hash run. New members to the group found out about the Wrightsville Beach Hash Harriers, WBH3 for short, through the group’s Yahoo group.
Hash runs can have trails through the woods, through neighborhoods or can occur downtown. The tenth hash run was a pub crawl with hashers solving riddles to find where to go to each bar. The clues range in variety. For instance the clues for finding the Blue Post bar, involve ‘opposite of orange and gazette.’ Other clues are entrenched in friendships, things only certain hashers might know. Another clue to a bar involved the 2 a.m. stop sign. One hasher knew that as the stop outside the Reel Café where at 2 a.m. a person could stand and look around for someone to take home.

It’s a tradition that predates World War II. The story goes, in one telling or another, that British expatriates in the land that is now Malaysia held the first Hash run. These men would meet at a local eatery whose food wasn’t all that good, the Hash House, and having little to do away from home; the expatriates began hosting Hash runs. The men took the place of hunting hounds used to seek rabbits who in turn took the place of hunting beer. Necessity is the mother of invention it has been said. Today there are more than 1500 Hash clubs worldwide.
It’s a simple combination of beer drinking, camaraderie and the thrill of the hunt that echoes the childhood sport of playing in the woods or playing army. The modern Hash club has its own ‘rules’ and traditions. The WBH3 have about eighteen members so far and usually run every Saturday.
“Because of NFL on Sundays,” Flash Me First says. “But we normally run on Sundays.”
Hashers don’t go by their given name, referring to one another by their Hash name. Having a Hash name is a typical ice breaker upon meeting new Hashers, learning of its origin. The names have origin in something personal or an incident as a Hasher.
“A Hasher can go anywhere in the world where there’s a Hash club and instantly have friends,” Flash Me First says about Hashing, not as a fraternity but as an affinity for shared aims. It’s an instant understanding, a coherent connection between strangers, through exercise, social means and a little drinking.
Hashers new to the club are usually referred to as No-F*!@#ing Hash Name ________ until they have attended five runs and then are ceremoniously given a Hash name. By that fifth run enough is deduced about the person to where they are christened after an informal Q & A session. The names are anywhere from comical to unsavory but always welcoming.
Jagermonster got his name years ago from working in a bar in which there was a sign that read: Don’t give Cody Jager.
“I used to drink it a lot,” Jagermonster says.
There have been runners who have shown up and joined and never known other Hashers real names. The group is comprised of people from all walks of life and professions.
In January the WBH3 held its first naming on the ninth run in Shallotte. The run began on the side of Kay Todd Road. Hashers parked their cars and set down a cooler. Newcomers, Sideshow Jesus, a young twenty-one year Golf student from Myrtle Beach arrived in addition to Hard-On and her dog, Roscoe. Another newcomer, Eric, arrived early. He found out about the WBH3 from the Internet as did Sideshow. Today would be Eric’s first Hash run.
Jagermonster and Flash Me First laid trail that Saturday afternoon through an area adjacent to construction, an overpass and woods untouched by construction machines. The location was diverse and provided a vibrant trail to follow. There were open fields and man made dirt mounds twenty feet off the ground. But it was also a day filled with drizzling rain and a crushed wood trail.
Hashers moved onto the field, light green grass with dirt drifts in the distance. The trail led then to an area littered with crushed limbs and soft and muddy dirt. Hard-On’s dog, Roscoe, ran freely, sniffing and tugging everything in sight.
Jager and Flash Me First hid in the distance watching Hashers following the trail, a little mystified as to why they were having so much trouble. For nearly thirty minutes the Hashers moved around in the same area. Eventually they picked up on that Roscoe was eating the trail markers denoted by mounds of flour left by Jager and Flash Me. After that, things began to move along a lot smoother.
Hashers moved through high grass and rough shrubbery garnering wet shoes and pants and more than a few scratches. Running trail is about small risk and reward. The trail is not without its tricks. After the first trail marker is found the Hasher shouts ‘On One’ and when the second is found, “On Two.” However, the trail can be a false trail, denoted by three lines of flour, appearing like a large claw mark. Hence, the Hasher turns around to find the check point and start in another direction. Checkpoints serve as a marker to keep Hashers from having to return to the original starting point. After three markers the trail is considered ‘True Trail’ and safe to continue following.
The Shallotte trail began in a wide open field, tracked through mangled woods where numerous limbs lay under everyone’s feet. The grey limbs cracked and popped underneath each step, sounding like popcorn popping for as long as the Hashers traveled. After a lengthy stretch through shrubbery lined with fallen trees and prickly vines the trail opened up at railroad tracks. It was a protracted walk from there. From the first beer check there were beer cans and water bottles to carry back to discard. Sideshow carried the back pack full of empty beer cans. They rattled and clanked against one another inside, providing a backdrop of primitive orchestra. The trail finished with a run down train tracks meeting back with the hares near an overpass where they stood with a cooler of beer and food.
Today was to be the first naming as No f@#!*ing Hash Name Jane would be named for completing five runs.
Everyone gathered around and cracked open beers. The hares joked with the runners about getting lost on the trail, watching in amusement. Explanations ranged from having trouble seeing the markers amongst the light sand in the field to the dog eating marker piles.
“Walking through the tree limbs was difficult,” Sideshow says.
“Yeah, some people were slowing us down too,” Eric says, making a gesture to Jane.
“Hey, you were the one prancing out there,” Jane says.
Jager’s eyes light up. “What’s this?” he says smiling. Jane explains that Eric was running along in a strange manner and referred to it a prancing.
“Okay, take off down the trail Eric,” Jager says. “Were gonna discuss this. You’re getting named today.”
“But it’s my first run,” Eric says.
“Doesn’t matter. A Hasher can get named on the first run if they do something that warrants it,” Jager says. “Something weird, trail violation.”
Eric moves away from the group and takes Roscoe with him. Jager asks again what happened on the trail and the group laughs. Eric is one of those instantly likeable persons, quick to poke fun at himself and easy going. It is decided by the Hashers that his name will be Prancer in honor of the man’s running technique. Eric returns and a circle is formed around who is ceremoniously asked questions about things only the Hashers know about her, ranging from the bawdy to silly. After the questioning ends Jane leaves and the group decides on her name. One suggestion is based on her profession in the health industry; others are based on nothing other than inanity. Upon returning to the group, both she and Eric receive their Hash names, Prancer and Twat Knot, and are doused with flour and beer.

The Hashers are running down North Kerr near the airport looking for markers but the rain is making them harder to see and find. There are a few false trails to contend with and then the group is on track. The trail leads them through a tucked away trailer park off North Kerr. There are numerous signs warning about illegal dumping, that camera supervision is underway.
The looks and stares from people are always the same when it comes to running a trail through a neighborhood. People may look out their windows confused or in their yards the same way. The Hashers just smile, wave or say hello. They have to keep running, staying on trail.
The trail leads through construction refuse behind a neighborhood. There are large sections of piping laying about construction equipment. Large fenced in yards stretch along and it seems every yard has a dog or dogs. There is a large symphony of canines barking at the runners, one of which, No F#@!*ing Hash Name Emily, sometimes called Backslider, for sleeping late and missing Hash runs, has brought her dog Rochester. The neighborhood dogs are torn between barking at the runners and her Rochester.
Eventually the trail spills into another neighborhood and at the end is Prancer and Penile Dementia, holding red beer cups – but no beer cooler. It seems the trail is not over yet. There’s a beer check symbol scrawled on the pavement. Jager takes off towards a field to find the beer. No luck. Another Hasher, Arapaho, runs up the street. Still, no luck. There’s only one way left to go.
The remaining Hashers take off in the last direction. It winds on, then left and ends at a two story house built on an incline. There’s an arrow marker pointing up the driveway. But there’s no one around. Someone pulls up in a silver Rodeo and gets out.
“You looking for beer?” he asks. Someone on the second floor of the house waves the Hashers on. “Come in the back yard,” the man says.
Down the street P.D. and Prancer are walking up. The Hashers wait and they all enter the backyard through a tall fence. There’s a familiar dog, Roscoe.
“You may know whose house this is,” P.D. says. The backyard porch is high above the yard and a gathering of people standing around talking and drinking beer from red cups. There’s a cover tent set up and keg of beer on ice. The back door opens and Hard On steps out. She’s dressed up a little and says hello to the fellow hashers she met a few weeks ago.
It’s her birthday and she and her husband are having a housewarming party. They just recently bought the house the hashers have ended up at.
The Hashers gather around and close out the day’s trail run with a few toasts and a few songs. The songs naturally all surround their lyrics around the group’s activities and precocious nature to not grow up. They are built around familiar melodies, such as The Beatles’ ‘Yesterday.’
Yesterday, all my muscles seemed to feel okay/Now my body doesn’t work today/Oh I went hashing yesterday/Bloodshot eyes and my tongue is twice its normal size/It’s at times like this I realize/Hashing isn’t all that wise.
What the group is doing is fairly simple, what psychologists suggest we all do in some way, stay social, build ongoing and lasting friendships. The group is in the midst of building a tradition, a simple bonding between new friends from all walks of life.

SANTACON 2006

2008-01-29T21:12:00.000-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine Jan 2007

You want to know what it feels like to be famous? Dress up like Santa Claus in December and take a walk downtown, anywhere there’s a large gathering of people. Everywhere I went dressed as Santa I was greeted with Hey Santa in one form or another. People stared happily and a little star struck.
Older and young adults alike were happy to see old Santa, even if he was portrayed by someone younger like me. Their eyes would light up ever so slightly after seeing the red suit, the long white beard and the red hat with a white ball at the end. It was as if their younger self woke up for a brief moment.
My beard was becoming unruly and I needed a bathroom break so I stepped in Fat Tony’s to make use of the mirror and facilities. I wasn’t really thinking, merely planning to go in and get out, but to my unexpected surprise there were tables filled and the bar lined with drinkers and a large party of well dressed young women in the back in gorgeous dresses. Perhaps it was a sorority party or a girls-only Christmas party – who knows, but people looked up when I walked in with that red suit on.
Look, it’s Santa. Hey Santa!
I walked quickly past the tables, past the bar and to the back for the restroom. I encountered the beautiful group of young women decked out in colorful dresses. Those within my eyesight partially melted as if Brad Pitt were moving past them. Their eyes fixed on Santa’s and it felt as if I had them under a spell, or rather, Santa did.
I want to touch Santa’s beard a young woman said, her eyes glistening and brown hair reflecting the soft florescent light. Her hands came towards me, fingertips wanting to rifle through the white beard. It was tantalizing but Mrs. Claus was waiting at the front of Fat Tony’s and you should never disrespect the Mrs. Besides, I had to get back to my group of fellow Santa’s. Santarchy was afoot.
The funny thing is, there were only adults around that night and it seemed as though they were kids in adult bodies. The same could be said for those adults who participated in SANTACON.

This little event, SANTACON, was staged December 9th in Wilmington. SANTACON is an annual gathering of Santa’s who take off in a night of raucous caroling, drinking and mild debauchery in the fat man’s suit. It happens all around the world, Kansas City, Houston, Boston, New York City, London to name a few.
All the Santa’s and Mrs. Claus’ met around four o’clock at Juggling Gypsy. Telling everyone to meet at four was somewhat of a ruse because SANTACON’s ringleader, Bash, knew that the Santa’s would be running late. Some would meet up with the group later as we would be driving around the city in two rented passenger vans, one with seats and the other without.
Santa Bash planned a night’s list of activities, the Santinerary, as he so affectionately called it. The group would descend on as many establishments as possible to bring fractured Christmas cheer, singing carols just out of kilter with the norm. Songs such as the naughty version of ‘The Night Before Christmas’ and ‘Silent Night, Welfare Night’ or ‘Crashing Through the Snow.’
With the first van filled the group found themselves downtown singing in front of the government building for all those who passed by. It was a nice warm up for a night that was just beginning to grow chilly. A song was begun and kids hushed away. Everyone retreated to the Barbary Coast for a drink or two.
Me and the Mrs. Caught up with the Santa gang there. The Santa’s were a wonderfully varied type. There was a Rasta Santa, a 70’s Cool Santa adorned in a sleek red business suit and black beard, a Santa only in grey long john’s, a Miami Vice Santa, a little bit hippy Santa, a Sexy Santa, a Lazy Santa and more traditional Santa’s. Some were disheveled from early drinking and others were just getting started and carrying around their bottles of Windex to drink the blue liquid from. Now, on appearance, it looks as though Santa is spraying Windex into his mouth. But it’s blue colored alcohol or wine to make it safe to drink whenever Santa or Mrs. Claus feels like it. Santa’s are known worldwide for drinking Windex and if you don’t clean out the bottle thoroughly and long before SANTACON, it can lead to a nasty hangover. And there were many Mrs. Claus’ on hand in addition to a few elves. It was barely six o’clock and many more stops to go.
From the Barbary Coast SANTARCHY roamed from place to place, entering Charlie Brownz to bring forth Christmas cheer with a rendition of ‘Rudolph the Red Hosed Reindeer.’ Everyone stood in front of the stage to sing for an early bar crowd. “Rudolph the Red Hosed Reindeer had a very shiny hose, and if you ever saw it, you would really say oh WHOH!” The early bar crowd clapped happily and wished us well.
Now Santa’s can get a little naughty and push people’s buttons. And it’s only fair, Santa works hard all year, fulfilling wishes and living in that cold environment and all. So, Santa, it must be said, has to let off a little steam. So sometimes, well, let’s lay it out there, a Santa dry humped the glass at Caffé Phoenix as two, much older, diners stared in frozen amazement from behind the glass. They held forks in their hands but appeared dead. From behind another pane of glass other diners were shocked and amused, finding the silliness in the situation. Around the corner the same could be said of window diners in Deluxe, laughing while trying to chew their food. And henceforth, the gang of Santa’s and their better halves walked into the night, up Market Street to return not to their sleigh but to a rented passenger van and also to help remove a Santa who was stuck in a street drain at the curb.
Everyone climbed into the van that contained several rows of seats. We headed back to home base at the Gypsy where other Santa’s awaited our return. From there more Santa’s would leave in both vans, the other van referred to as the Surf Van for it contained only two front seats. All Santa’s in the cargo area would have to sit on the floor as a lone Santa tries to stand. The van moves about in traffic and our faithful driver, Santa Denny, applies the brake at his discretion thus sending the surfer tough waves to make it difficult to stand up.
But before embarking on a little surf trip it was required that we embrace tradition, that tradition known as the Santa Pyramid. One by one the Santa’s sat their beers on the cold ground and piled on, and Mrs. Claus’ too, until we reached a proud pyramid of fifteen. A few pictures and damaged shoulder blades later, the pyramid disappeared.
Santa Bash is on his cell phone to someone and the topic of The Santa Land Diaries comes up. We had spoke Friday night of paying a certain Macy’s elf a visit during SANTACON.
“There’s an elf with a room full of people complaining about Santa down at City Stage,” Santa Bash yells over the phone. “We’re making a few stops and then we need to pay him a visit.”
Bathroom breaks accomplished, it was back in our four wheeled sleighs and off to town again we went, this time to sneak attack ArtFuel. Outside the studio a sea of red moved towards the door, each Santa passing back the same message, Shhhhh. We were to sneak inside the front door and surprise those still inside. It was deadly quiet, like crime scene quiet. The band of Santa’s moved to the back of the studio before reaching Sarah Peacock. She turned around to see before her a vast number of Santa’s crowding her room. She was regaled with a song and a bull whip was brought out to tame a non-believer. Now the non-believer knew the real meaning of Christmas. Off we went, back into the van to surf.
Friendly passings of booze were to be found inside the dark of that van with no seats. Everyone sat huddled on the cold black floor, a little liquid spilled from cups and ran under those not sitting on the wheel hubs, but all was okay. The only light to see came in through the van’s square rear windows when cars came too close, in which those in the back would playfully claw at the glass, leaving finger marks in fogged up glass from their fake screams.
“Those in the back will soon be in the front,” Santa Bash offers as we speed off in the surf van. A Santa stands up and carries the weight of his body as the van moves around a bend in the road. Santa holds fast, bearing inertia until he has to place his hand on the ceiling to keep from flying forward. He holds fast again as we start to slow. But Santa Denny knows this game all to well. He slams on the brakes and Santa wipes out, thrust forward into a patch of Santa’s in the front. Everyone slides forward on top of one another, drinks spill, the surfer falls into the other Santa’s. Everyone is okay from Santa falling in the dark cramped corridor of the Surf Van. Some continue to bang on the glass at cars outside. People on the street gawk and yell and wave. Some say Merry Christmas.
Anyone driving by the van could not conceive of the humorous mayhem on the inside, but they would enjoy it just the same. Unless they had to relieve themselves of the giant Red Stripe drank just a short time ago.
Santa Denny pulls into the parking lot in just the right amount of time, for Santa has to go, go, go. He steps into a corner and relieves himself of the pressure as the other Santa’s walk by yelling loudly, Santa’s taking a break! Santa’s taking a break, Santa’s taking a break!
It’s off to Bottega to spread the Christmas cheer, sing another song and have a drink. And behind the bar sits Santa himself in an elegant beard. It seems some Santa’s have to work during SANTACON.
Several Santa’s disperse for a while. Mrs. Claus steps out onto the sidewalk to practice her bull whip skills. Walking around downtown, everyone says Hey, its Santa, especially the ladies, while the guys say What’s up, as if a little envious, as if they already know the joy Santa can bring (nod and a wink).
Santa Bash assembles the crowd again and offers part of his secret Santinerary. Next stop, the Strip Club. First we have to stop at the Gypsy to pick up some Santa’s and Mrs. Claus’ and then Expressions to sing a song and then the coup de gras, the Crazy Horse. The night’s longest engagement will involve Santa’s, some Mrs. Claus’ and naked beautiful women dancing on gold shiny fifteen foot poles. What a wonderful Christmas this shall be.
We pick up several more Santa’s and a few non-Santas, a Frenchman, Thomas and his wife.
“This is the best time I’ve had since I’ve been in North Carolina,” Thomas says. “I went to a Moroccan restaurant for dinner and we wanted to have an after dinner drink at the Gypsy.” He and his gang came inside to find the SANTACON gang and they joined up. “The next thing I know I’m in a van full of Santa’s. That’s how I look at life, you can’t plan everything.”
The van arrives at the Crazy Horse. It’s early and looks to have Santa’s outnumbering everyone else in the joint. Once inside it seems as if it’s not unusual to have a fistful of Santa’s in the room, no one pays us much attention. Or perhaps it’s that there’s a naked woman dancing with that golden pole at the right of the stage. With something that enticing on stage, who cares about a bunch of red covered holiday maestros?
The Mrs. Claus’ take front row seats and slide money into the dancer’s underwear. One dancer, with color streaked black hair, shoulder tattoos and fangs, hangs from high above on the pole, defying gravity. She slinks down the pole, her tall slender figure moving towards the stage until she lands gracefully. She then works the edge of the stage as customers, Santa’s and Mrs. Claus’ give her money as she spreads her legs in response. Santa’s order drinks from a leggy brunette dressed in red Christmas attire, something resembling a red teddy with white and black boots. One of the dancers took Thomas’ hat, dancing with it tight on her head. Another dancer buried her face in a Mrs. Santa’s ample breasts and then the Mrs. returned the favor, all in good holiday fun.
The club manager, in the spirit of the holiday season and just being one cool individual, offers everyone in SANTACON a free shot of peppermint Schnapps. An announcement is made and everyone lines the bar to down the shot. Merry Christmas Crazy Horse. Merry Christmas sexy dancers.
After spending too much time at the Crazy Horse we realized that we missed crashing City Stage Crumpet the complaining elf and The Santa Land Diaries. Next year Crumpet, next year, you’ll get what’s coming to you. So our next stop was The Rusty Nail. Parking behind the AFL-CIO building there was the audibly loud sound of what we thought was a concert but turned out to be a community dance in progress. We wave hello and look inside only to depart to The Rusty Nail.
Upon entering I get the feeling this is not going to be well taken, not in the matter in which the sudden entrance of 25 Santa’s and Mrs. Claus’ should be. People at The Rusty Nail stared, just stared. No one says Hey Santa or anything of the sort. The moment reminded me of that scene in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure when he enters the biker bar and tries to use the pay phone. It seems we have interrupted something. No one is mean or disrespectful but one gets the feeling they prefer we were not there at all. Towards the back a man and a woman are performing a song and many are singing along. Once finished several Santa’s step up to the microphone and begin to sing ‘Deck the Balls,’ a Howard Stern worthy rendition of the holiday classic. It doesn’t go over badly, it just doesn’t go over.
The Santa’s and crew file out shortly thereafter with little fanfare. As Santa Denny steps out the front door he says something and can’t help but smile. Mrs. Claus asks, “Did we get asked to leave?”
“Yeah,” Santa Denny says with a laugh, “We were asked to leave.”
The group crosses the street back towards the vans behind the AFL-CIO and two Mrs. Claus’ are taking in the fact that we were asked to leave.
Holding her coat closely to stay warm, she coughs and says with no hint of sarcasm, “How do you get asked to leave the Rust Nail?”
The other Mrs. Claus chuckles and we all hurry to the van since the night is aging and growing ever colder. After a lengthy drive away from downtown and then u-turning back to downtown we park on a side street and make for Lula’s. After entering Lula’s it’s clear that not many Santa’s will make it in. The bar is crowded and the Santa’s that do make it in appear like a long red snake entering a smoky dark orifice. People in the bar are packed in as it is and after a quick drink the Santa’s depart for cooler temperatures outside the bar.
It hasn’t taken long for the Santa’s to get lost. A Santa throws up behind a car not far away. The walkie talkie screams in the night. The Santa’s in the other van are looking for us. How could we have gotten separated so easily? Then it makes sense, two vans, all that drinking and the night is winding down.
Santa Bash talks into his walkie talkie while a red hat slinks down his face covering eyes and nearly a mouth. Next stop, the Soapbox to rendezvous with the Cosmic Groove Lizards. Santa’s climb the lower downtown streets, moving block to block towards the Soapbox. I nearly get drawn into the City Saloon but we have the Santinerary to keep up with.
A young guy in a leather jacket stops me and asks if he can tell me what he wants for Christmas. I say sure. He says he wants a Playstation 3. I tell him he shall have it but he is worried about getting shot over one. I tell him to be safe and a young woman asks Santa if he wants to dance with her. I use one of Santa’s pick up lines, saying, “You must be interested in seeing the North Pole, well, that’s what the Mrs. Calls it.” She laughs and we keep moving. Walking past the Sidebar another young lady asks if I have any toys to which I reply, “only ones with batteries.”
We stop for a slice of pizza and out on the sidewalk across the street we see a few wayward Santa’s. This Santa got lost and we direct him to the Soapbox. Within a few minutes there’s a line of Santa’s outside the place. Once inside Santa’s are cleaning up the dance floor. One Santa break-dances until his clothing starts to come off. The Santas bounce around the dance floor like spider monkeys swinging from trees. Santa in long-john’s join Mark and Dave onstage to sing along with the Groove Lizards. It is a fitting end to a long night of traveling around the city spreading inebriated cheer.
Santa’s like to have a good time, Santa’s like to sing raunchy songs. SANTACON happens, here and abroad. On that night everyone rode the red and white wave of pandemonium. It will certainly happen again next Christmas and anyone and everyone is invited along to be a Santa, a Mrs. Claus or even be an elf. But it’s best to be Santa because Santa rules the night. Nothing can stop a gang of Santa’s.

BRUNSWICK IDOL

2008-01-29T21:08:00.000-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine Jan 2007

On November 20th the cold silence inside Odell Williamson Auditorium in Brunswick County hung heavy in the air, as if words spoken too loud would crack the silence like overt pressure on thin glass. Merely circumstantial, but those auditioning for Brunswick Idol, a local take on the popular television show, may not have known or felt the pressure.
Nearly forty individuals, adults and teens, auditioned for the upcoming Brunswick Idol show to be held on December 1st sponsored by Brunswick County Parks and Recreation, local newspaper The Brunswick Beacon, The State Port Pilot, Wilmington’s Star News and Waccamaw Media. Contestants will be competing for the 2006 Brunswick Idol title and $500. Teen Idol contestants will be competing for a $250 prize.
Only the sounds of feet walking across the aged black stage floor broke the silence. They would walk midway to a lone microphone under a single stage light. One by one those auditioning would take that long walk from their seats, up the stairs and even further to center stage, some removing the microphone to sing. What caused the auditions to seem awkward was that they were all done a cappella. For some songs it made little difference, such as four different renditions of ‘Amazing Grace’ but for songs popular on the radio the breaks between verses led to elongated silences between them. Some would carry the beat by tapping their leg or snapping fingers to keep time. It was uncomfortable but inadvertently led to testing an individual’s ability to hold presence in spite of it all.
During auditions there was only one person who stopped during their song. Those in charge of the event were patient and encouraged them to continue trying. Songs ranged from religious standards to Joe Cocker to R&B. The three judges sat in the empty auditorium rating the auditions on pitch, rhythm and stage presence on a scale from one to five. There was little similar to television’s American Idol regarding criticisms to those auditioning.
The auditions were intended to select fifteen individuals to put on a show on December 1st. Some auditioning clearly had singing experience and others were raw talent, in no way meant to impugn anyone. It takes a great deal for anyone to step onstage, especially those who aren’t possessed with a ‘look at me’ complex. Many who tried out, and would go on to sing at the show, possessed something that was individualistic and rich in character, whether it was a female singer’s raw growl when singing ‘Baby, I love you’ and calling to mind Sheryl Crow or Allan Nicosia’s perfectly passionate rendition of ‘You Don’t Know Me’ or Louise Harrison’s soulful take on ‘Up Where We Belong.’
Depending on what school of thought one ascribes to will reflect in the opinion cast on those auditioning. Frankly, sometimes music has an overabundance of perfection in it, and the flaws embolden music to be unique and beautiful. That is not to suggest that badly bent notes are acceptable, but there a million different ways to sing, as long as it generates personality. Some would argue that Janis Joplin is harsh to listen to and doesn’t sing properly. There are numerous successful singers who would have been shot down at auditions such as these. Long ago a quote from Eric Clapton was printed that that there are singers who are just perfect and then there’s everyone else, that’s what rock and roll is for. To a reasonable extent Clapton was right, coupled with an individual’s passion for music. Truth be told, not everyone there that night, and for the show, were ‘perfect’ but there was a degree of passion missing professionally these days.

Fifteen finalists were chosen to perform for the show. The night of December 1st contestants mingled quietly backstage, some sat alone awaiting their chance to perform. Anna Kooiman, fill-in anchor for WWAY TV-3, checked her hair before taking the stage as this year’s host of Brunswick Idol.
Shortly before show time seats began to fill up. Friends and family brought homemade signs to show support. The Teen Idol contestants were first with Jessica Holden singly the timely ‘Where Are You Christmas?’ Gregory Wright followed next with a powerful and moving ‘I Need You Now’ originally done by Smokie Norful which would win the Teen competition that night. Wright had tight competition when Allie McDowell took the stage to perform ladies favorite ‘Before He Cheats.’ McDowell moved around the stage punching the chorus vocally and emotionally. Equally emotional was Tyrone Hill Jr.’s ‘State of Peace’ which he wrote and closed with emotional outpouring.
The night moved along as the adult contestants were next and made up the bulk of the show. The songs to come were both personal and outright fun. One performer would falter and gain support of the audience who helped steer him to sing a number dedicated to his wife more passionately than perhaps he may have thought.
Dale Robbins, a former storm tracker for WWAY Channel 3 performed the Kenny Rogers classic ‘Lady,’ dedicated to his wife of ten years. Robbins was seemingly beset by forgetting a line in the song and looked stage right as though he were about to leave. But before taking a step the crowd largely clapped encouragement and Robbins continued on, coming back so much stronger, singing with greater conviction and force. He received heavy praise from the audience for coming back. But he lost concentration again and may not have been forgetfulness but perhaps nervousness. He then pulled it together to belt out the chorus even stronger. Every time he faltered he came back even better, like a fighter that will not stay down.
Allan Nicosia returned to the stage performing ‘You Don’t Know Me’ with such emotion and conviction that he was nearly drowned out by the ladies in the audience. You could hear the women shouting approval for Nicosia’s passion. “I’ve been performing since the third grade,” the Buffalo native said. Nicosia recently moved to the area.
Casey Townsend brought his guitar to accompany his version of Edward McCain’s ‘I’ll Be.’ Townsend chose the song based on his vocal range, making it slightly more pumped up than the original, and singing loud enough to crack the ceiling. He plays in the band Convex Lens out of Bolivia.
As if the energy levels could not have grown any higher, La’Monica Hill took her place on stage in a glittering gown, causing her to appear beautifully fluorescent. Then, she sang and it may have the night’s pinnacle. Alicia Keys’ ‘If I ain’t got You’ showcased the singer’s strength and elicited prompt approval from the crowd.
The show took a delightful turn with the appearance of Maurice White, er, Mojo. While much of the music of the evening was romantic or religious in nature, it was a delightful change to have Mojo perform the twelve bar blues staple ‘Give Me One Reason.’ White is a transplant from the Bahamas, moving to North Carolina after selling a bed and breakfast he built and sold. “I came out here surfing and stayed due to the laid back attitude,” he says comparing the area to the Bahamas.
White came out of the darkness sporting a Simpsons SideShow Bob size wig with bellbottom jeans and a shiny, sequined shirt. Standing alone with his guitar and a heft of stage presence, he funkily worked through Tracy Chapman’s classic and the crowd was quick to respond, clapping and cheering on his energy.
Kenneth Yunus also performed a song dedicated to his wife, ‘Your Man’, taking his song off the stage and down to the floor seats. His move to the audience was greeted with wild applause, a spotlight moving from the stage to follow him. Yunus’ bright red shirt seemed to glow in the dark of the auditorium.
Myron Hewett, who works for Progress Energy, should have won the award for captivating hearts with his rendition of ‘Just Once.’ He moved about the stage with a wink in his eye and a come hither stare. His performance elicited audience members to lift their cell phones in the air and wave them. Across the auditorium a wave of small square lights rocked back and forth and Hewett lured the audience in.
Shortly after Hewett’s performance the final numbers were tallied up and the winners announced. Gregory Wright, 17, won the Teen Idol title and a cash prize of $250. La’Monica Hill, 22 and a mother of two, took home the title of Brunswick idol 2006 and a five hundred dollar cash prize.
Brunswick Idol may have been a small town affair but the performances on stage were anything but. It was a night of entertainment and locals showing off their love for music and taking full advantage of a night to perform.

CD REVIEW - THE DEAD 60'S

2008-01-29T21:05:00.000-05:00

Like the current crop of popular bands utilizing the early eighties - New Wave era (The Killers, Franz Ferdinand), The Dead 60’s comb the late seventies and early eighties to craft their sound. This Liverpool quarter has an altogether different approach in that their songs come off less catchy and sound, well, cool. They roll off in a harsh and smooth delivery, accompanied by sweet but nasal inflected vocals.
Imagine a potent mixture of The Clash, Look Sharp era Joe Jackson, The Specials and a dash of punk all recorded in a dodgy part of town. The debut record has a great combination of reggae, dance, ska and rock music whose lyrics are directed not only at social awareness but at the feet as well.
‘Control This’ sings about integrity and perseverance, You gotta fight some time/On a dead end line. ‘We Get Low’ drives home the imagery of a dead end jobs, Well, it beats being a rent man/Or when you’re down in the roulette’s mine/And as the city casts it’s shadow/We commit the perfect crime/We get high/Before we get low.
The album has a crisp and not overly produced sound, feeling as though it was recorded in the basement of a forgotten club in desperate light. Yet, the album is anything but grim. It bounces along with jangly and spitfire guitar playing and pounding drums. It has a timeless quality, sounding like an early eighties British import.
On ‘Nowhere’ the guitar resembles an old spy film and the vocals sound as though they’re being sung just down the hall, slightly echoing in and mirroring the guitar playing. ‘Riot Radio,’ the first single, relies on a descending guitar riff caught between funky and razor sharp. Radio needs a riot and The Dead 60’s are a welcome addition. ‘Control This’ relies on recognizable reggae tempo to carry the vibe and continue the influence on ‘We Get Low.’ ‘Horizontal’ is the closest the band gets to punk and ‘The Last Resort’ comes off like a Clash b-side. And that’s a good thing, kids. ‘You’re Not The Law’ is declarative, utilizing an organ that sounds right out an old horror movie.
The album sounds deceptively simple. It’s anything but. The guitar playing focuses on quick strumming and descending notes. The interplay between the band members create an ambiance that is fresh and hip without sounding too commercial. And it’s a great CD to play in the background at a party.

ARTIST - MARGARET ROBBS

2008-01-29T21:03:00.000-05:00

Margaret Robbs works a lot. Maybe too much. She gets up in the morning and paints for two hours before going to work at UNCW where she runs the costume shop. Margaret builds most of the costumes for shows and supervises labs in theatre classes. She works a night job waiting tables. Then she comes home and paints. She has a loving boyfriend that solidifies her life. She is fortunate that her day job is creative and her relatively new passion is as well.
“I work 60 hours a week and I feel there’s not enough time to produce at the level I feel I should be doing,” she says.
Her new passion, for the last year and half, is painting. And she prefers oils, not acrylic.
“With acrylic, you gotta work fast and I don’t work that fast,” she says.”
Working in oils is still a swift process for her. She won’t start with one piece and stick with it. As if some frenetic assembly line were concocted just for her, Margaret will start numerous paintings and work a little on each and as they dry, go back and work more. The process also involves doing a preliminary sketch first and by the end the pieces look completely different.
“I’ll have a concept, do some sketches, maybe change the idea,” she says.
As an artist, Margaret has a soft spot for the strange, that which is beautiful and a little off center. It is this interest that propels her work, which catches your attention and stays long after you’ve left the paintings. The work exudes originality and subtle repulsion laced with color and beauty.
A recent art show at ArtFuel, Inc. showcased a series of portraits of sideshow characters. Looking at them you think of the old world, circus era sideshow freaks, but there exists a sense of playfulness to them, rich in color and pleasant in the strangest way. You are reminded kindly of Tim Burton and childhood dreams and the surrealism they once held. Or still do. The character’s round eyes in the series contain fixated stares that are distinct, as though they have been caught doing something irregular or are about to meet their fate.. Playful, yet dark, combined with innocence.
One piece, ‘Flipper,’ added lettering at the bottom on a turquoise piece of ribbon. Margaret saved the lettering for last because she was nervous, no, terrified of doing it. She’s always held an interest in tattoo work and has many friends who are tattoo artists. Her work derives some influence from the tattoo world as was the lettering.
Tommy Carey did a piece of tattooing on her arm and was a strong influence on getting her to paint again. He was a huge part of what really got her going, seeing preliminary work and sketches at her house.
“I miss having him to bounce ideas off of. He told me I needed to do this, to keep doing it. I attribute a lot of the fact that I’m doing this to him,” she says. “He has affected a lot of people. He absolutely has. I really wish he had known how wonderful a person he was.”
Many of the sideshow/circus pieces are framed instead of existing as singular canvas or galley wrapped. The frame accentuates the artwork, adding to the surreal tone and adding an aged quality it wouldn’t have otherwise.
“I started going to flea markets and antique places and finding frames and trying refurbishing them,” she says. It’s a process that demands time to scour for mirrors or framed art that she can rip the frame off of. Many selections are mirrors because she discovers they have more interesting frames since, with mirrors, the frame is the artwork.
“Usually I work backwards, find the frames and then do the artwork, the frame is inspiration,” she says. “Sometimes I do a piece and can’t find a frame I like for it.”
That show came from research and costume design from a period show at UNCW. She will do tons of research for shows and had a lot to pull from when time came to paint as far as inspiration is concerned. The figures come from her imagination, that of Siamese twins, or the concept of having a bearded lady or twins. Some were just little creatures like a lamb or sheep with a girl’s head.
“I have a fascination with darker themes,” she says. For the series of sideshow paintings Margaret also found a set of cards on ebay of circus sideshows. They were images of old circus performances, many Victorian era.
“They were interesting to me, the whole idea of how acceptable it was at the turn of the century to completely exploit human oddity, you still see it now,” she says. “It’s so accepted to turn some strange physical aspect from birth into a career. I find that interesting. I did a lot of research before that show at ArtFuel.”
It was a show that came together by a mutual friend who was getting tattooed. ArtFuel was doing a Halloween art show and the friend suggested Margaret.
“You guys need each other,” the friend offered. “You’re the kind of artist she’s looking for and it’s the kind of gallery you need to be in”

Margaret never thought as much about art as she has in the last year. Now she is consumed by what to do. Growing up she was surrounded by a lot of creative elements, an architect father and mother who made giant banners. Neither of which were painters but were artistic people. A lot of her childhood was spent doing one man shows. There are many videos of those one man performances involving dressing her younger sister up in costumes.
“I don’t know where the whole surrealistic element came from. I spent a lot of time on my own and being creative.” Margaret never got into Dali surrealism but was inspired by artists like Mark Ryden, artists who have created a new version of surrealism that blend pop art and surrealism.
“I think that’s where a lot of my style comes from. I want to produce things that I love to look at. I love color. I love cute and weird, beautiful and strange in the same world.”
Much of her life as a child was spent very alone due to a sizeable gap between herself and her other younger siblings. And then there was school.
“That whole outcast child thing, going to a school with a lot of wealthy children,” she explains, “I didn’t really fit in there.”
In high school Margaret only dabbled in painting. Once in college she did more but it was relegated to renderings for costumes.
“I did a lot of rendering work in college. I did them as very realistic drawings of seven inch figures.”
At the time she didn’t think she was good. During her freshman year she was having a good time taking figure drawing classes. While taking rendering classes she states that “my paintings looked like shit.” For Christmas that year the professor she worked for gave her water colors and it changed everything.
“From that moment on I could paint,” she says.
Margaret attended school for costume design at Winston Salem School of the Arts. After graduating, roads led to New York working several years in costuming departments but eventually decided not to stay.
“I left New York feeling really defeated,” she explains. “I had a couple of really bad experiences with theaters up there. I was working in some tough theaters and its cutthroat in that industry.” After giving it several years she came here to do something else. She moved back and didn’t know what to do at first. There were jobs waiting tables and working in a coffee shop.
“I went to hair school for a month. I was getting ready to go back to grad school,” she says. And then she started painting.
“Last year I started painting again. A lot. I didn’t have much going on in my life, didn’t know a lot of people, don’t drink,” she says.
Margaret reiterates several times her distaste of acrylic in painting. She’ll use it in backgrounds, to get a background up quickly and that’s it.
“It dries so fast and is so unforgiving. She says emphatically.
She does oil work now, even getting a set in college and never touched them.
“I was a little afraid of them, they’re so messy, so technical,” she says. “I never had formal painting classes.”
Two years ago, before painting began, Margaret started making t-shirts out of old ones she didn’t wear anymore. She was merely trying to find a way to redo shirts by making felt animals with tweaked out eyes sewed onto the old shirts. People liked them.
She wanted to keep that innocence. The shirts with sweet animals are cute but they all look a little wrong. Their eyes are a little tweaked out and look a little spooky but they’re still cute. There’s something disarming about seeing something that’s cute and wrong at the same time.
“I like that,” she says. “I definitely have a surrealist element in everything I do.”
Tommy Carey pulled Margaret into a show at the Soapbox in which she sold many of those shirts. The response was so good that she took them to a couple places. Now she does a line of shirts called Neighborhood Threat for 008 downtown.
“The owner liked them at 008 and started carrying them.” The characters on the shirts led to paintings of them. “I was playing around, experimenting, that’s when I started using those oils.”
There were shows where she hung a couple of pieces with This is Viral and received a good response. The pieces sold right away. That led to a show at Chet Fisher’s art gallery, ERA, on 3rd Street a few months after that. For that show Chet asked artists to create pieces on religion.
Her first painting, a zombie bunny, reminiscent of one of the t-shirt animals, is owned by Chet and he has no interest in parting with it.
“I love her work,” he says, enamored of her talent. Chet has another showing planned of her work in July.
But the bunny came first. Margaret was doing a series of zombie animals for a show that never came to fruition called Zombie Nation. She started a whole group of dead, cute animals - dark and cute juxtaposed together.
“That was the first of my oils.”

The next several months look to be busy. There’s a show at 008 on Valentines Day and it involves a series that will allow for Margaret to really begin expanding. The pieces will be a mixture of watercolor and oil. They consist of very sexy coquettish girls in underwear with great big creepy heads, maintaining that balance between beautiful and creepy and odd and cute all wrapped into one.
“I think I’m still in this experimental stage of figuring out what I want to do, a balance between improving my technical skill and figuring out what I want to paint,” she says.
Margaret’s style is a conglomerate of everything she’s been exposed to, living in New York on the lower East Side, going to art school and working in the theatre world. And having the opportunity to work on a lot of abstract shows involving costumes and a lot of mask work haven’t hurt her source for ideas either.
“I have a good eye for color and shading. Now it’s interesting for me to find a little more emotion in what I’m doing. I feel like some of my work is getting to that.”
Regarding the t-shirt creations brings forth the notion of getting into screen printing and taking the shirts in a whole new direction given that most are geared towards women. Then there’s finding a way to incorporate more 3D elements within the paintings, doing collage work or mixed media. And perhaps sculpture.
“I don’t understand sculpture as much, I don’t connect with sculpture,” she says as if wondering. “If I did sculpture I’d want to do metal sculpture and then I’d have to learn how to weld first. And that’s a whole other class and who has the time for that?”

BERLIN SKATE ART EXHIBIT

2008-01-29T21:01:00.001-05:00

BOOTLEG: Tell me a little about yourself.

Besides organizing Built to Expose. I also work for Built to Destroy skateboards. I’m responsible for artwork and do promotion for them. Because I am a graphic designer and painter myself I have two decks of my own in the exhibition too. Pretty proud of the 'skate or fry' deck I did with a friend of mine. We actually fried a skateboard; we made a special frying pan for it and filmed it all.
I have a graphic design education. But also I did a lot of booth building for tradeshows, set design for theater and parties, interior design for shops. I also have a t-shirt brand with a friend of mine
called Braque. We make limited edition t-shirts that are for sale at a couple of skateboard shops in the Netherlands.

BOOTLEG: What was the origination of the show and how difficult was it to put together?

The exhibition didn't start out as big as it is now. It all started when I met Curse Mackay at the Riff Raff tattoo and art show in De Hague in the Netherlands. He organized the Rides of Passage, an art
exhibition from the U.S. His exhibition, with painted snowboards, was going to be a part of another art event during the Museum Night in Amsterdam. He asked me and Aziz Badrane from Built to Destroy Skateboards to organize a Dutch addition with Dutch artists on Skateboards. We thought that would be a great idea because Aziz and I both know a lot of artists and tattooists. Rides of Passage finally didn't make it to the Museum Night but Built to Expose did. And since then it
has been growing. Every time we do another show I ask more artists to contribute a skateboard. It started with 18 decks at the first event. In Berlin there will be over 70 decks from more than 60 artists.

BOOTLEG: Is Built to Destroy the main benefactor of the art exhibition?

Without the support of Built to Destroy Skateboards Built to Expose wouldn't have been possible at all. They supply all the decks for the artists to work on and finance the whole production side of the
exhibition. Eastpak Benelux helped out with a little extra cash on the exhibitions in Amsterdam and Huizen in the Netherlands and Antwerp in Belgium. We also asked five artists to do something with a Built to Destroy deck and a skateboard backpack from Eastpak. Great to see what an artist can do with such a combo. There was even a female artist, Babette Jong, that made a complete outfit to go along with it.

BOOTLEG: Who organized the art show & how long has it been going on?

From the start in November 2005, I have been doing most of the organizing. I am the one that keeps contact with all the artists and does most of the promotion. I hang all the decks at the shows.
Yasha from Strychinin Gallery (New York and Berlin) is now a great help in setting up shows. She organized the show in Berlin. We are also working on plans for the exhibition to go to Barcelona and New York.

BOOTLEG: What themes are there and is there any categorizing for the artwork? Is everything mixed together or separated by inspiration?

No themes or anything. Everything gets mixed together. I only ask the artist to start out from that same shape, the shape of a skateboard. Where they end up is all up to every artist and the inspiration they have.

BOOTLEG: How are artists chosen for the show?

I try to get artists that are very different from each other. The great thing about such an exhibition is to see what different artists do when they start out from the same shape. It started out with
people I already knew or knew of. Some of them were already doing work for Built to Destroy Skateboards or Independent Outlet skateboard shop. Some are skateboarders. Some are musicians.
Tattooists, graphic designers, illustrators, graffiti artists. From then it was a totally natural growth. Artists that were in the exhibition suggested people. Friends suggested others. A total snowball effect thing....

BOOTLEG: How closely related are the artists to skateboarding?

Some are. Others not in the slightest. Although there are more that used to skateboard than I thought at first. I have heard, 'I used to skateboard when I was younger' loads of times when I asked artists to contribute a deck to the show. And of course when I hear of artists and am told that he or she does skateboard or used to, it is certainly an extra.

BOOTLEG: Has the exhibition remained in Belgium & Netherlands always? Is the show in Berlin a sign the exhibition is growing?

It is certainly growing. The involvement of Strychnin Gallery has given Built to Expose a more international boost. As I said Yasha, me and Built to Destroy Skateboards are working on plans for Barcelona and New York. With a few more sponsors I will be able to publish a book of Built to Expose too. That would be great!

BOOTLEG: Do you accept submissions or is the work chosen?

In the exhibition there are a couple of artists that already had skateboards they had done and asked me if those could be included in the show. But mostly I ask someone to be a part of Built to Expose
and then send them a Built to Destroy skateboard. When they have finished it they send it back to me.

BOOTLEG: Does the show incorporate skateboarding or music into the exhibition?

The exhibition only included dj's and music on the opening nights. Aziz the owner of Built to Destroy skateboards is a great DJ and he and several others made sure that openings were great parties also. In Antwerp we were part of an event with bands like the Urban Dance Squad playing, dj's and about 1500 people having a blast. In the room where the skateboards were, Aziz was behind the turntables from 11pm to 5 am, with anything from punk to old soul music. He kept people
dancing the whole night too.

ARTIST - MATT GUACK

2008-01-29T20:51:00.000-05:00

Matt Gauck, at the moment, lives in Chicago but has his sights on Savannah, Georgia. A native of Cary, NC, Matt attended Appalachian State University, graduating in 2003 with a degree in graphic design.
But his love for illustration and painting outweighed that of commercial art and design. He has since created pieces of art deep in meaning and strong enough in its imagery that some could become short novels.
Matt’s work is playful and numbing at the same time, fusing shaded colors and joyful characters surrounded by surrealistic or ominous scenery. The pieces are positive and sad simultaneously, pulling diverse emotions from the viewer.
He has done work for bands and steadfastly supports the DIY (do-it-yourself) crowd, eschewing much of the mainstream lifestyle that corporations have helped to anchor in American culture. He recycles, rides a bike instead of a car and finds food from dumpsters.

You were raised in Cary, NC?
Yep. If you’ve ever been to Cary, and met me, it’d be really hard to make sense of how that worked. Most suburban, strip-mall, homogenous town on the planet.

Attended Appalachian state for graphic design and a master’s at Savannah College of Art and Design. At what point did you realize that was what you wanted?
When I was almost done with high school, I decided I wanted an art-related career, and both my parents were really encouraging. At that point, it seemed like graphic design was the only artistic career path that made any money at all, so I got my BFA in that, but immediately realized I 1) don’t care about money, and 2) prefer drawing and painting to a computer ANY DAY. So after one summer, I went back to grad school. It was all pretty fast, I was done with my MFA when I was 24.

Did you draw/doodle a lot as a student?
All the time. The sides of all my notes in every class, from 3rd grade through college were just drawings. Not really serious stuff - I never went places with my sketchbook or paints or anything. Just doodled.

What is the appeal of horror films? The gross-out? The scariness? Or just strange nature of it?
Oh jeez, that’s freaking impossible...haha – well, at first I think I was really interested in stuff that scared me, a lot, because that was such an interesting emotion to have to deal with. I mean, you just don’t get scared that often in real life, unless it’s when something really awful happens, like a friend gets really sick. Horror movies are the ‘fun’ side of being scared, and I'm all about fun. That’s my m.o. But, I’d be lying if I didn’t laugh every time somebody’s head gets blown off, or someone gets hacked to pieces. The blood is just funny, seriously. I can’t explain it, but after awhile (and I have seen a LOT of horror movies) it just gets funny. Black Christmas, Night of the Living Dead (b/w), I Spit On Your Grave, Re-animator, and Cemetery Man – that’s my top five. I think.

Are you self professed bike rider?
I love my bike. That’s the only way to get around, seriously. I’ve biked over 3000 miles on long distance trips, state to state kind of stuff, and I also get all my food (dumpstered) on my bike. For me, bikes are just the best possible answer – you can fix everything on your own (DIY), there isn’t a cost beyond the bike and the parts itself (I really hate money), it doesn’t pollute the environment (I still bike all my recycling 2 miles each week), AND you stay in good health doing it.

Really like Quicksilver (the 1986 bike messenger film)?
I freaking love that movie. My roommate keeps claiming that every time I watch that it negatively effects our friendship. Ha. The part in the middle – the bike trick section – it’s amazing! I watch the biking parts of that like once a week – kind of like a ‘bike messenger highlight reel’. I'm really into “Rad”, too. Aunt Becky from Full House. Crazy.

Cartooning? Who do you admire?
Bill Watterson, hands down. Calvin and Hobbes was easily some of the best art to come out of cartooning. I like Daniel Clowes now and again, too, but more for the story. Watterson is dominating the draftsmanship category.

Do you write little books or cartoon panel series?
Not really, I did when I was younger, but I find I can create better stories with just one image. You have to trust your audience, but also sort of ‘guide them’ in the right direction.

Do you find confliction between graphic design and cartooning or do they come together?
There’s a ‘happy middle ground’, for sure – you wind up designing all art, and I think graphic design is just like any other art form, where you would arrange aspects of the picture into a ‘visually pleasing’ manner. There’s an undeniable link there, but it’s sort of hard to pin down.

Is graphic design done for smaller entities or do you do work for larger companies?
I’ve done work for both – I’ve worked for independent firms of 5 people, I’ve worked for IBM, and I’ve done everything in-between. IBM was weird, but I learned a lot…Like not to work at IBM anymore. Design, in general, has become a strange subculture to itself, one in which you can get wholly sucked into, and convinced your work matters more than it really does. A lot of people get very caught up in graphic design as a lifestyle, and then aren’t able to focus on real life, going on around them. You can use graphic design to help fix problems, raise awareness, you know, “sell” social change…but most people wind up doing posters that promote things they don’t MIND, but still aren’t exactly what they want to ‘end up’ doing.

Does the graphic design work fund your art or is a full tie job?
Right now, I do the occasional logo, or help layout a cd or record or something, but that’s about it. I prefer staying away from the ‘straight graphic design’ stuff. Most of my money now comes from illustration. That’s what I wanted to do, so I figured I would keep at it.

Series dvd? How did you get involved?
I am really good friends (through high school and hardcore shows) with one of the guys who started series, and I got asked to do the Bunnyfest DVD cover and the logo. I think my friend isn’t with the series anymore, but it’s still going on, from what I understand.

What is the best environment/location for an art show?
That obviously depends on what you want to happen – sell all your art, or just get your message out to a public audience. I'm more of the second crowd – I just have ideas I like, and it’s nice to see when one inspires someone else. So, keeping that in mind, I'm a believer in the co-operative run spaces, or the ‘bookstore with space in the back’ type places. Coffee shops are nice too, but I still hate coffee. Anywhere that people can come and not feel like they’re in the “art world” or at a museum. Art is about reactions as much as it is the art itself, so the space matters.

How many cd/album covers have you done?
Hmmm. Overall, I’ve helped on about 15, at this point. Some of those were full illustrations, some were just design help. Maybe closer to 20, now that I'm thinking about it.

What medium do you prefer, oil over acrylic?
Oil, hands down. Acrylic is too plastic-y. It’s really gross.

What specifically do you find appealing about Magritte? Surreal qualities? The colors?
Honestly, I just like his stuff ok – the painting quality is good and all, but I think the ideas are the important part. That pipe bomb piece I did was really just a clever idea I had. Well, kind of clever.

Do you prefer smaller pieces to large canvas pieces?
Small! Art that’s big is impressive and all, but I will always prefer to paint things you can get close to, and have some personal time with. The intimate details are much more interesting to me. I will admit I have a great deal of respect for those who paint really large and do it well. You have to understand, though, that you don’t have to paint on a large scale to get an idea across.

What is the genesis of your ideas? Is it always commentary related or is it merely your imagination at its best?
I have no clue where these things come from. I really don’t. I’ll have an idea, something simple like “something going against impossible odds” or like “contradictory problems”, and then I’ll just start sketching stuff. Everything I paint has some aspect of me in it, and from my standpoint, I think it’s super obvious. But that’s me. They’re all comments on life – I think anyone who is creative derives their ideas from their life experience, and then their output is a direct response to their input. This is my lifestyle, the things I’ve seen, the books I’ve read, and the friendships I’ve made, all rolled into one creative ball.

There’s a wonderful collaboration between the themes of horror, innocence and reality in these pieces, as well as inventive and playful characters along the way. Some are sad and cute, is this purposeful or just the natural flow of your creativity?
Some of this just makes sense to me – the horror themes are just reactions to the movies, I think, but they still have a tongue-in-cheek quality to them. The characters are usually based on kids, because I think a kid’s manner of seeing the world is about 100 times more interesting than anyone else’s. That mentality you have when you’re a kid, and playgrounds are the coolest thing in the world – that stuff was so much better than concerning yourself with minimum wage, and all that ‘adult garbage’. Anyway, back to the question, yes, it’s all very deliberate choosing, the characters are the types of things that make sense in their given situations. I’m aiming to paint stories, not paintings. And these characters are part of the story.

If you could illustrate any book, which one?
Hmmm. Probably a Mad-Libs book a first grader finished. That would be awesome. Lord of the Flies would be fun, too.

Are there any philosophies you are trying to get across within your art? In ‘Remorseless’ there’s that image of a human who’s controlling a robot who’s trying to grasp at a heart, sort carrot and the horse. What’s the story, if there is one, behind that piece?
That piece was developed for a contest, where you were asked to ‘visually define’ a word. My friend picked (at random) remorseless for me (I picked, at random, ‘earwax’ for her…she actually won first place) – anyway, I was trying to come up with something unmistakably ‘remorseless’, and that came out. I use a lot of strings and rope in my work, something stemming from my experience with my younger brother, building things, making things work on our own. That one falls into my ‘contradictions’ category too, because when he moves closer, it gets farther away.

What do you believe is the power of art or its inherent strengths?
Art, to me, inspires its audience to strive for something creative and (hopefully) positive. The act of making art is a creative one, in that you create something from existing things. Not so much like paint and pencil, but rather the ideas that go into them, or the news you just heard about something awful, or whatever. Art is a direct response to the world we live in, and, on some level, it’s a call that we can perhaps do something about it.

How much do you write compared to painting? What do you like to write about?
Writing is a little, little hobby at best. At some point I thought that some of the experiences I had were too funny to go untold. I'm very wary about writing, because it asks a lot of people, to sit down and read about my life for a couple hours. I'm really not that important, but there was some stuff that happened to me, involving a long bike trip, that was really funny.

How many ‘zines have you done and how do you produce them, at home? Kinko’s?
I’ve only written that one, it was sort of a ‘toe in the pool’ kind of curiosity toward the ‘zine world. It’s done fairly well, in that I’ve gotten compliments and I understand that people find it funny, and it’s sold out a couple different places. I’ll probably try writing a second one, and I'm debating doing a little black and white art ‘zine, too. We’ll see. And I sometimes print at Kinko’s, but I greatly prefer the ‘hookup’, which involves my awesome, supportive mother, using her IBM privileges to further the DIY punk movement (go mom – thanks again!), or, well, whatever. Kinko’s is kind of a ‘last resort’, in my mind. I mean, they charge MONEY for copies. What is that? I’d honestly sooner get a job there, copy all my stuff when I could, then quit. Much easier.

In many of these pieces there’s a theme of tiny things at the foot of larger things, sometimes winning out over them. And images of non-human objects that are full of life, are you being reserved or implying a greater premise?
Let’s see…I think it’s all about hope, and impossible odds. Anything impossible, to me, is interesting, because it’s considered off limits by reality. It’s all a fairly romantic vision of life, but I prefer it that way. Where there’s life, there’s hope for something better.

Gustav Haggren and Helena Arlock come to America

2008-01-29T20:42:00.000-05:00

Gustav Haggren and Helena Arlock saved up last autumn in Sweden working three jobs to tour the United States. They landed in New Jersey in early February and planned to travel the east coast through New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, North and South Carolina. Before heading to Canada in April they will play three shows in Wilmington; The Juggling Gypsy on April 5th, Folks Café April 6th and Port City Java on April 7th.
Back home in Sweden Gustav plays with a six piece band The Seasick Sailors, music that is described as melodic indie-rock, but is contemporary and smooth. He is twenty two years old, never toured the U.S. before and plays guitar with a specially designed artificial hand since he was born without a right hand.
Once landing they encountered freezing weather that quickly reminded them of home. Their plan was to buy a car in which to travel but hasn’t panned out yet. Their first show was in Ithaca, New York in which Gustav took in his first American breakfast and was none too happy.
They are befriended by a couple who drive them to Clinton before continuing on to Boston. Before leaving they play a radio station at Ithaca College. Pictures are taken with a cell phone and uploaded later to the Internet, Gustav lying in the deep snow, his head covered by a large black hood.
Once in Clinton they purchase hats and gloves to combat the cold weather. They stay at the house of Nick and Jennifer who operate Melodic Revolution where Gustav and Helena will perform. Helena will make her first appearance as a solo artist. Gustav is proud.
In Clinton they try out things like Burritos, Subs and, of course, pizza. Nick showed them a store in which to buy Hummus, Bulgur, Yogurt and other vegetarian goods. In town Gustav receives his first masque ever, a good thing as the cold air is hard on his skin. Walking down Main Street a man approaches to sell Gustav a flashlight with a radio in it.
The Valentine’s Day show is cancelled due to heavy snow, the worst since 1992. They depart by train and head to Albany without a clue as where to stay. They find a cheap Econo Lodge that reeks of urine and vomit but it suffices since they’ve been running around in the cold for hours. The lodgings improve greatly the next day when the owner of their next show, Ralph at the Bayou Café, helps out.
Hanging out with Ralph’s business partner John leads to another gig perhaps. John wants to hire them to play three ABBA songs for a friend but doesn’t believe that Gustav doesn’t k know the song ‘Fernando.’
Latte, broken fingernails, aching backs, one dollar buses, disgusting hotel food, ABBA, Russian, Fat Tuesday, hangovers, doggy bags…..notes from the road.
Onwards to Hudson Valley Community College which happened after meeting a professor of psychology. The professor invited them to play and talk about their adventures so far, teaching the students there’s more to Sweden than ABBA and that polar bears do not freely walk the street..
On to Washington, D.C. where they sit idle in traffic for nearly eight hours. Once in the city they have breakfast and go open-mic hunting. It is almost March and the city is a welcome visit. Staying at a house with musicians and a studio they perform at IOTA and make new friends. Gustav spends the day buying a pair of shoes, walking a lot of miles and sees the White House. There is talk of going to Texas and Gustav is tired from travel and constant drinking.
Travel is greatly aided by generous new friends and lodgings from strangers who let them pass out on couches. They perform several songs at a pirate radio station called CPR, sharing the studio with the band These United States. At Wonderland they play together with Rose and The Great White Jenkins. Concerns about how to get from Catskill the next day with no buses, no trains. Car rentals are expensive because they are not 25. It will become a source of frustration with Gustav. Then there’s the library to visit, to print Map Quest directions.
There are more stays at new found friend’s homes and American breakfast’s to turn down since they don’t eat meat. Gustav jokes that he won’t break the ten years as vegetarian for good manners. It’s time to leave the Catskills for Connecticut, renting a smelly and expensive Ford Focus and later wishing to have taken the bus. Arriving, the two are greeted with orange juice and a college radio station.
Driving north to Kingston, which is close to Woodstock, the pair seems happy. They meet Paul who appears to be old enough to have been around during the first Woodstock. He says that Gustav and Helena look like two people he knows; Magnolia and Valentine and that he once sold a painting to Stockholm and wondered if they’d seen it. They shake their heads, thanking him.
Returning the car to the rental agency it’s a short wait before another train station. While eating disgusting food at a Mickey D’s Gustav sells a record to an employee. The employee saw their instruments and was determined to buy a record. At the train station it’s a two hour wait and some lyrics are written. Then, north again.
It’s March 6, 2007, cold as hell and it’s a day off. Gustav has coffee and thinks about the four shows in a row coming up. There’s many after that. The tour is really expanding and he is enjoying it. He types a quote from a travel friend, Alina by St. Augustine, into a computer:
“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only a page”
The road has carried Gustav and Helena a long way, creating music and recording five demos in Maine at Brown Dog Studios and recording a live show back in Clinton. They played The Bitter End in New York City, do laundry and a little sight seeing, cruising around the big apple with friend Linus who is half Swedish, half Korean and raised in Australia but born in Helsingborg. Imagine. Arriving at a guesthouse in Queens, Gustav meets a guy who left Gustav’s hometown in Sweden at the age of three.
It really is a small world.

How long before coming to the U.S did you plan to tour?
6 months or so. I and Helena must have sent out around 500 emails to different venues on the east coast. We explained to the venues that we were traveling on our own small budget.

Were there a lot of dates set up prior to arriving?
Yeah, I guess we had 15 shows scheduled when we came but that expanded quickly. We met people and they set us up for more gigs and so on…after a while we had to turn down offers because there simply were no days available. That’s kind of cool.

How long before you bought a car here in the states to use? Was that the plan all along?
Well, we tried to buy a car from DAY 1 and I still don’t have a car. You don’t want to get me started on this; I’m still pissed off about the whole thing. We can’t buy a car because we can’t get insurance…we can’t get insurance because we’re not US residents…we can’t afford renting a car since we’re under 25 years old.

Jake Melnyk said you were using a Greyhound bus to tour.

Yeah, sometimes that, sometimes AMTRAK. We’ve been lucky getting a couple of rides actually. We got a ride from Troy, New York to Washington, DC then a ride back to Catskill, New York. Helena is carrying a huge cello so we can’t fit in all kinds of cars.

How much of a culture shock has it been?
All these food commercials...eat this, eat that, grease, triple pork and so on…I don’t know…the sad thing is that it hasn’t been much of a culture shock since Sweden is losing its own culture and is becoming more and more Americanized. We’ve seen a lot of snow so it has felt like home.

Have people been generous and curious about the shows?
Oh yeah. We’ve met amazing people. We played this show and we were suppose to sleep on couches at the place and these two women were driving home then they turned back to get us. We got a king-size bed! One great part about this trip has been meeting all of these amazing musicians that I would never have heard over in Sweden.

How many shows so far? Too hectic?
Let’s see…according to my Sonic Bids we’ve played 25 shows since we arrived 6 weeks ago so that’s not too bad. Its’ been hectic but not too hectic. It’s been a great ride.

Did you like the invite to speak at the college? What types of things did you discuss?
Oh, yeah, that was really cool. We talked about putting yourself out there, give up your apartment, work 7 days a week just to be able to challenge yourself and the things you love to do. Then we discussed my view on Americans…they laughed when I said we picked the East coast because I thought they were smarter…haha.

Has there been any impromptu gigs?
Oh yeah, open mics, gigs booked the same day as we played, private parties, studio sessions.

What has been your impression of Americans, the culture, the hustle and bustle of the cities?
I’ve met so many kind and inspiring people so there are a lot of good impressions. What is interesting is that I haven’t met a single person that seems to agree with this country’s politics. New York City has a great pulse that just hits you walking down the streets at night. It seems like everyone is trying to make it big here which is kind of funny. I’ve met actors, opera singers, burlesque performers, midnight saxophone players etc...I love it, I really do. I really like the multicultural feel to it as well; you can find extraordinary food for cheap money.

Are you homesick or just enjoying yourself completely?
Well, I gave up my home so no, I don’t feel homesick at all. It feels like I’m only in the beginning of something great that is going to change everything.

What types of things have you done to save money? Besides the library to print maps, what other resources have come in handy?
Gorgeous friends. Text messaging on Wal-Mart phones...cooking Swedish dishes for people who let us stay at their houses…long walks…doggy bags…Subway – eat half for lunch and the other for dinner…we saved two stray cats today, I hope that will save some of my bad karma and give me some good. We call them Seymour and See Less since one of them can open only one of his eyes (Seymour) but the other can’t open any of them (See Less). I thought I was going out tonight but I’m cat-sitting. Hopefully we can find them an all-American home tomorrow.

MYSPACE.COM/GATSS OR WWW.GATTS.COM

THE NEW NATION

2008-01-29T20:35:00.000-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine April 2007

It’s a chilly St. Paddy’s Day. Inside a large white tent outside Fibber McGee’s stands a shaky rented stage. Like a circus tent, two large poles point to the cold, near spring sky. Green balloons rest against the top as if waiting to escape. Down front is a checkerboard black and white dance floor, squares large as if a human sized chessboard. People dance at the foot of it, mostly girls with tans that are early for this time of year. They dance with each other, bare stomachs and hair tied up. A few have green balloons tied to their head like characters from Dr. Seuss’s playful world.
They are dancing to rock and roll music, not classic rock, but blistering and funky rock and roll. The New Nation is into their third set for the day, opening with an original tune, ‘Freedom.’ The band moves, both musically and literally, setting fire to both their original songs and the ones they cover. But cover is a loose term. Of the covers, save for ‘Red House,’ they are reinterpretations of the original version. ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ is made funkier, devoid of its marching rhythm, replaced with a laid back swagger. The same could be said of ‘Midnight Rambler,’ but their take, while funkier, also benefits from blistering guitar interplay between guitarists Callaway Rich and Rob Ronner. Whereas Ronner is upfront in his playing, Callaway is content play along soulfully, letting his playing burn feverishly and do the talking.
The band feeds off one another, moving around a lot. They like to open with ‘Freedom’ because it tends to loosen people up, letting a crowd know they mean business. The cross between funk and rock is where the band is moving towards. One minute it can melt a crowd and cools them back down the next.
The stage is swaying back and forth slightly. Ronner plays the guitar high up on his chest, belts out lyrics and steps away to play more intensely. Drummer Brian Collins is complete power, hammering away behind the kit as well as singing on some songs. Bassist Brennan Simmons is the most sedate of the band, strumming along, enjoying the groove. But as the sets play on his energy comes from somewhere hidden, half jumping up and down and bobbing his head to the rhythm. The New Nation is band who moves around the stage a lot. The music is not necessarily performed, but experienced, taken to a place, if you are willing, to go with them.
One need only listen to the breakdown at the heart of ‘She’s Got to Go,’ an implosion of funk and rock powerful enough to make Humble Pie and Sly Stone proud. The breakdown brings the song to its knees and then right back up. Those brief silences make it all the more intense, Zeppelin-esque (think ‘Bring It On Home’) without sounding anything like Zeppelin.
The New Nation is many different things, rock, funk, a little jam band and intent on finding something in the music. The point is to make music that isn’t disposable, that is soulful and unflinchingly honest. There is no gimmicks, no packaging, no pretensions, just the belief that music is not disposable but a part of living.
Ronner, whose height is a minor characteristic until he steps off the stage, sits his guitar down and approaches, his shirt soaked with sweat. He is a good foot taller than the average six foot tall person. His voice is raspy but unnoticeable while singing.
Callaway steps off stage and breaks a wide grin. Onstage he appears serious. From behind long black hair a single eye is visible and looks utterly focused. Once it’s done, after he pulls away his guitar from the speaker and places it down he changes. He loves music. He comes over and mentions The Red Devils, a band we both share a rabid interest in. He tells me he’s trying to get a copy of The Red Devils’ singer, Lester Butler’s other band called 13. It’s a strange name for a band given Butler’s demise. But if you ever heard The Red Devil’s only album, King King, you’d bare witness to the power of a band, of how playing live can melt your mind in the best way. Inside the tent at Fibber’s was evidence of that power, melding rock and funk and soul with heavy playing. Sheer power.
The band leaves long enough to grab a beer before the next set. It’s been a busy weekend, playing the night before outside in the cold, today’s set in the warmth of the tent and another show in only a few hours outside in the cold again.

The New Nation started coming together less than a year ago when Ronner and fellow guitar player Callaway, who moved to Wilmington from Ohio after finishing college, started playing around Wilmington. Ronner played solo for a while, doing semi acoustic sets around town for several hours at a stretch. That went on for months with friend Jake on Congas.
It was just over a year ago I Interviewed Ronner for Avenue and he was talking then about forming a band. He was doing well for himself at the time but there was the sense he wanted more, that he wanted to play with other musicians. “It’s fun to play with a band,” he said at the time. “I’m more into rocking now,” he says today.
Sunday afternoon, after the St. Paddy’s gig, a black cat slinks through the back yard of Ronner’s home. It’s chilly out, the sun is full and a gentle southern blue sky hangs over. The band sits on lawn furniture, sipping cold beers, while brushed with a cold breeze that makes new leaves cackle softly. They all get along like brothers, cutting up and pushing and shoving at each other.
“Some shows we play by the seat of our pants, no set list,” Brennan says. “We’ll look at each other and say, “Hey, what do you want to start with?”
“We know our set list front to back,” Brian says. “So we don’t need one.”
“Opening for someone we have a set list,” Brennan adds. The band opened for Tishamingo recently at Front Street Music Hall. “Those are great guys, fun dudes who play damn good music.”
Brennan lived in New Orleans and left before Hurricane Katrina. He lived in Chaumet, the only place not covered by the levee system. It doesn’t exist anymore. Eight miles from French Quarter, Brenna bartended there, but did not play music.
“It’s all the same, Zydeco. Pretty cool jazz scene, though.”
His musical influence came from the heart, his mom, who played in an eighteen piece Big Band. Not being able to afford a baby sitter she brought Brennan along to the gigs. His mother, Donna Merritt, plays locally as a professional pianist at Circa 1922 and Costello’s. Brennan grew up playing drums listening to Big Band and Swing music. At 18, still in high school, he went on a tour playing in an Elvis impersonation band in casinos.
“She got me the gig. She played piano for them and they just canned their drummer,” Brennan says. “That’s where I learned to just go and do it. I rather fail miserably rather than looking back.”
Ronner first met Callaway at The Rusty Nail, heard him play a solo and was impressed. The two hit it off and when Callaway moved to Wilmington to live with his girlfriend the germination of the band started. Callaway played most of last summer’s gigs with Ronner. After one at the Ale House, Brennan sent an e-mail. The bassist came over and Ronner felt good about it.
“I said we’re getting somewhere now and then Brennan suggested Brian for drums,” Ronner says. “He obviously paid attention to what was on the record (Ronner’s solo disc All in Time). Everything came together really well for a first practice.”
“We went and played that night,” Brennan says. “Just flew by the seat of our pants.”
Ronner played an acoustic set and then brought the rest of the band on and they played for an hour and a half. In the last six months The New Nation has been moving towards its own sound.
“I like jam bands but we don’t go into a twelve minute opus, we do it within reason, keep it tight but interesting for ourselves,” Callaway explains. “With originals we try to keep them going for a little bit unless there’s something in the moment that sparks our interest to explore more. I want to continue to look for our sound. Right now its still rock but it has a different groove to it. There’s a Meters influence, Dr. John, its groove rock.”
The songs on All in Time sound nothing like the band now. They don’t play acoustic much because the momentum tends to drop out when they play it.
“They’re good tunes,” Brennan says.
“The energy just falls out,” Ronner “You open up with ‘Freedom’ or ‘She’s Got To Go’ and the walls start melting. ‘She’s a Dime’ is all wah peddle and funked out, a heads up to the Meters.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Brennan says. “When we started out we still played ‘Candy Cane’ like it was on the record. Now, it sounds so much smarter, edgier, we jam it out much longer than it was.”
“On the album, it was a pretty funk tune,” Ronner adds. “Everything we do is funky and we add a raw dog feel to it. Nothing we do is overly pretty, but it’s together.”
Everyone’s school of playing is a little different. Brennan is at the opposite end coming with a background of pop college music like Toad the Wet Sprocket or Duncan Sheik. “Our sound is polished but it’s not pretty,” Brennan says. “Rob and Callaway are jam guitarists and Brian beating the hell out of it, throwing down Bonham style.”
In addition to more up-tempo sounds and guitar players is the addition of drums. Brian came from a metal background, playing in bands doing a lot of cover tunes. Bands like Audacity where he met Brennan, seeing the bassist play at the Mellow Mushroom.
“I found Rob and it’s been great ever since. Brennan and I met at an open mic night and got along really well. “Brennan saw Rob at the Ale House and his then girlfriend said for me to go and audition. But I didn’t right away.”
“He was playing hard to get,” Ronner jokes. “We started out doing covers. You have to do them at bars. Not that I don’t dig the songs I just don’t dig copping someone else’s song. I’d rather do our own stuff.”
The songs they cover are well known but they sound different. The band just bakes differently when playing other people’s music. “We don’t really try, it’s just the way it comes out,” Brennan says.
‘Feeling Alright’ is an old stand by and their version of ‘One Way Out’ ignores the double time on the drums. Both Ronner and Callaway are strong guitar players and at some point it begs the question, do they run over one another, clashing in their interplay on stage?
“Callaway and I are real good at staying out of each other’s way. He’s a big fan of playing big chords and I used to play jazz all the time. If he’s on the low end then I’m high. We just have a good sense of that, especially solos. We came from the same school of guitar players for the most part. Our top ten guitar players probably varies by two people. We’re into the same kind of cats, born with the same kind of style. If he’s been rockin somewhere in a position for enough time you can feel it coming. We kind of think the same way.”
While that may be true the learning came from two different ways of educating. “Rob is more of a songwriter type but also in terms of his guitar playing he tends to have a little more technique on me, taking jazz classes in college,” Callaway says. “I’m more of a go straight for the jugular type. I never really did that. I learned the basic chords and definitely more of a harder type, more aggressive than he is. He definitely has some great technique to him.”

Just a forty-five minute drive from Detroit, Callaway Rich grew up in Toledo, Ohio. The influence of the music spilled over, introducing Callaway to blues rock by the likes of Bob Seger and the energy of Ted Nugent.
His father was into Allman Brothers, southern rock and the British wave of blues rock while his mother is from South America to which Callaway lived in a house filled with a lot of Hispanic music growing up. Between the two he found common ground. Whenever he needs to reevaluate his guitar playing it’s the early albums of Santana that put things in perspective.
“When I’m getting in a rut, not really pushing my self, I listen to the stuff that excited me and inspired me to play,” he says. Albums like Santana’s Abraxas or tracks like ‘Samba Pa Ti.’ “The first album by Santana had the Latin drums I was used to hearing growing up…and kick ass guitar. “
The budding guitarist took lessons until his instructor told said that he didn’t feel like teaching Callaway anymore. The instructor was saying the only way Callaway would get better came meant playing with other musicians.
“In bands, you learned what was gonna work or what didn’t,” Callaway says.
“That’s your college,” Brennan adds.
By the late teens he was trying to play more blues stuff. Some local musicians took him in but he still had to earn a spot. The alternative music scene in clubs downtown offered experience but it didn’t satisfy.
“It still had a classic guitar sound but I wanted to learn something for myself. I wanted someone to teach me something.” While many of his friends were getting into Korn he began jamming with harmonica players and singers….learning. “I respect it (Korn) for what it was but I was gonna go listen to Muddy Waters.”
Instead of playing with people his own age, Callaway found himself in a world of much older guys.
“It’s like, if I’m gonna go to war, I’m gonna go with a guy who’s been in a war as opposed to someone who’s studied warfare. I played with a lot of old blues guys who’ve been around, playing with some gruff motherfuckers, so I always tried to look hard being fifteen, sixteen, playing with a 65 year old black guy in a pin striped suit, trying not to look like I should be sitting outside of the club on breaks hoping somebody will buy me a beer. It developed to where I look mean. My girlfriend says I look mean all the time.”
Mean or not, what he learned about playing was subtlety and command, knowing when it’s required for you to do something and not do something.
“It’s about subtlety. I can remember being sixteen on stage trying to rip the guitar solo and play behind my head and some mean sonofabitch telling me if I did it again he was gonna kick my ass off the stage. Restraint is definitely a missing art form in music.”
Those experiences shaped him as a player and a musician, not just performing with humbleness and dexterity but knowing what he wants in a band. The New Nation is the most focused of any group he’s played with, as far as what all the members want.
“I’ve been playing with Rob for a year now. On top of practicing we were out in front of people several nights a week. When you’re in front of people, you have to sink or swim.”
Callaway’s plan was to play lead guitar with Ronner as a side man at first, as a member of Ronner’s backing band. Now, Ronner still writes the bulk of material but it is developed by the band. He comes in with a skeleton of a song and the band completes it.
“He comes in with a melody and it gets all banged out when we play it together,” Callaway says.

Originally, the band started out as Rob Ronner and Creation Nation. Ronner left his name on so people who liked him would know it was still him with aiming to take his name off later. But the alliteration was too much. Sitting around a bar one night someone said “how about the New Nation?”
It spoke to an idea Ronner has held since that interview a year ago, that it was time for everything come full circle again in these times of American Idol. There’s always been that, been a Star Search and pop music. But Ronner is aware of what’s being sold to the public and how easily it’s consumed, with little questioning. He speaks plainly about it but his comments are brimming with passion for a new direction.
“It’s got to give; it’s coming to a head. The New Nation is a new approach, where people aren’t eating what they’re being fed anymore. They want to look for things, get more out of music than what they’re getting right now. Not putting it on just to bob your head or work out…a new age of where bubblegum stuff moves out. There are a so many great people out there that are being overlooked for what’s packaged and easy. When I see a lot of these new bands being signed, not to take away from them, but there’s quite a few I’d put ahead of them. Our tunes are playful but have something serious. Vonnegut said you kill yourself if you start putting politics in your art (from Wampeters, Foma & Granfallons) I’m cool with that, that makes a lot of sense. It hit me hard; to not make this a political thing, but to bring people together, make them happy. “
It’s not that the band isn’t looking for a catchy song to get people to remember them; the importance is to create something to put on a shelf and want to listen to over the years, music that means something and has a place.
“We have songs like ‘Goodbye to Rain’ that’s been going over real well because the sound,” Brian says.
“When I was writing it, I hit that chorus the first time even before the band got together. I thought that’s gonna be big. Callaway plays slide on it which I wouldn’t thought would have worked,” Ronner says. “Really good choice.”
As a drummer, Brian gets to see the band gel. “I get to watch the three of them, feed off watching everyone playing, it helps me keep my momentum the way Rob and Callaway feed off one another, Rob leaning back and Callaway’s eyes rolling back in his head. We do a Dead tune, ‘Franklin’s Tower’ and they both take a solo then incorporate together and it’s amazing to see.” Brian adds. “My playing has evolved, coming from a metal crowd; I take my playing in stride, having evolved into a whole different style. Local drummer Sam Bryant, who played with Kenny Wayne Sheppard, has been a lot of help to me.”
Ronner is equally admiring. “You add a color that wouldn’t be there otherwise. We were playing an acoustic show and the way Brian was playing a guy came up and said we should cover Jethro Tull. That’s what Brian’s drumming is, it’s pretty heavy. He’s good, when he wants to lay back he can lay back but he can pepper the shit when he wants to,” Ronner says.

CD REVIEW - OLD MAN BROWN "Return"

2008-01-29T12:54:00.001-05:00

It can take years for a band to find their sound and create magic on an album. The journey means hard work, replacing band members or losing one in the process. Old Man Brown’s original drummer John Scott Wakefield passed as the band was finishing tracks for their demo. They carried on and recorded Return, an astounding album that conjures up the blues, gospel, soul and rock while eschewing associated stereotypes.
On Return, Old Man Brown captured lightning in a bottle, getting back to soulful and earnest songwriting. Return just flows, as if without effort, sounding timeless, as though the album has been lying around waiting to be played again. It is emotional yet smooth, something fresh by the likes of four young men from the Baltimore area. Recorded in Nashville, the band marks a return to southern soul, taking familiar music and making it new again. Think Black Rebel Motorcycle Club or The Black Keys.
Adam Scott-Wakefield’s vocals sound older than his age, coming off as if Ray Charles and Steve Winwood were singing at the same time. Tracks navigate from the soulful ‘Fool to Love’ to the blues of ‘It’s a Shame’ and ‘Like Bees to Honey.’ Mixing funk and rock on ‘Steal Away’ the track elicits a different take on relationships, trading a life of marriage for the road. A man don’t need a woman, a ship don’t need no anchor/Mama taught me self reliance/I’m gonna thank her.
Standout songs include ‘Seek My Arms,’ ‘Return’ and the fantastic mini-epic that is ‘Come Rain, Come Shine.’ Part slow ballad, with its church service feel, the Hammond organ lends character to a song already rich in the tapestry of Wakefield’s vocals singing I can’t keep holding onto you/I know you’re longing to stay too/I could always be your gentle warm breeze/that lifts you up when your cold man drops you on your knees. It’s a beautiful song that collides Muscle Shoals with Motown-era loveliness.
‘Return’ opens with a guitar melody a la Eric Clapton during his mid-nineties, elegantly acoustic period. A song about the comfort of home when things get hectic, it strides along coolly, not letting the blistering sound of guitar over power the whole.
‘Seek My Arms’ is sure to be a ladies’ favorite. Shuffling, bouncing and a smooth dance number, its descending riff and funky piano playing make it ripe for the dance floor. The piano and guitar play off one another, the middle like a mini-jam. If some tracks call to mind the jazz flow of The Allman Brothers it didn’t hurt that Allman brother Johnny Neal recorded the album and played organ as well.

For fans of Allman Brothers, Jack Johnson, The Black Crowes and Robert Bradley’s Blackwater Surprise.

- Brian Tucker

LABEL 228 PROJECT

2008-01-29T12:48:00.000-05:00

FROM BOOTLEG MAGAZINE APRIL 2007

Art is anywhere, anytime; it just depends on your viewpoint. Subway cars in the Seventies and Eighties became mobile murals in New York City. Not every artist can afford a canvas to create on; some people’s imagination exceeds their grasp. Sometimes to canvas is bigger than ourselves. Look at Banksy or Michelangelo. Sometimes the canvas is really small.
And free. Complimentary of the U.S. Post Office.
Local artist Camden Noir lived in Wilmington about seven months when the idea arrived one night; to create a book project based on artwork he’d seen drawn on Post Office mailing labels numbered Label 228. The project is composed of street artists, post office stickers, and a common interest….art. The book will be a conglomerate of Label 228 stickers from the post office, recreated and hand done from people all over the world. Camden created several years ago, sticking them up at school “and local downtown shit holes where everyone could see them, but I never actually dedicated myself to doing them.”
The idea came about last March and has found its way around the world via the Internet and MySpace. Having mailed labels to places as disparate as Austria, France, Germany, the U.K. and California, the furthest submission came from Australia.
“Its funny how art brings everyone together.”
Camden is currently working with Gingko Press and “hashing out ideas” he says, hoping to get the book published by late August. “Right now it’s in the air.” The book seeks to collect as much of the artwork possible and present different voices.
“I would see the Label 228 stickers and wondered why people would waste artwork on a stop sign or streetlamp.” As a graffiti artist he understood but wanted to create something to showcase the artwork instead of random chances when someone walks by it.
Street art appeals to Camden, having been a stencil graffiti artist for several years. “You go to a museum and see a painting and admire the brush strokes and textures but with street art, you admire the drain pipe the person climbed to showcase their work.”
Considering it lost art, since few people consider street art legitimate, Camden is interested in graffiti not only for its artistic qualities but the personal risk involved in addition to the emotion behind the work and its meaning.
“I’m interested by the type of spray paint they used or how long they were there and if any cops drove by a street down and couldn’t see them.” Near the parking deck on Front Street there was a piece of an eight foot tall underage kid with a gun signifying the problems in Africa. It moved him to the point he cried when it was covered up.
Peel Magazine has aided in furthering the Label 228 project. The founder agreed to sell the book on his site and do a write-up. “He respects the arts and cares about more than money and ad space, which I respect immensely. It’s going to be a pleasure to work with him.”
Obtaining the labels online has been become harder than it once was. Years ago anyone could go to USPS website, make up a fake name and receive the stickers, a thousand, for free. Now, after seeing how many stickers were being dispersed, the post office has made it more difficult to get them. “You can still go to the local post office and get them by the hundreds.”
Interesting submissions have come in from artists Downtimer and Zoso as well as two collaboration stickers from Downtimer, Matt Linares and Daniel Fleres. But submissions are welcome from everyone, not just big name artists. Everyone is welcome, as are the variety of artistic ideas.
“I received a submission from someone who wrote an anonymous love letter to an unknown person on the postal sticker and sent that in. It was beautiful. Its funny how many words you can fit on a 4" x 5" surface.”
In preparation for an art show June at ArtFuel, Inc. Camden has been preparing large canvas pieces. Doing mostly stencil graffiti on canvas has led to exploring the streets of Wilmington to locate new wall space. The art show is comprised of Camden and two other artists in which the theme is “in your face, open-eyed, political statements and television.”
I ask about being an ‘outsider artist’ and if that’s a fair description. Having met Camden on the street downtown and elsewhere I am a little surprised by his answer. “Most people would consider me an outsider. This is about as sociable as I get,” referring to the interview by e-mail. But the artist is friendly and conversational, yet remains steadfast concerning his privacy, recently ditched the use of phones.

WWW.MYSPACE.COM/LABEL228BOOKS

DAN MACFARLANE: SKATEBOARDING EXPLAINED

2008-01-29T12:46:00.000-05:00

FROM BOOTLEG MAGAZINE APRIL 2007

Skateboarding Explained is a different breed in terms of how-to videos. There hasn’t been anything this comprehensive in terms of teaching people how to skate, from the basics to the tricks. MacFarlane teaches the 8 fundamental principles of riding a skateboard that apply to all levels of skating. By using these principles a skater’s performance automatically improves.
Originally from Houston, Dan MacFarlane has been skating for 20 years and represented some of the biggest companies in the skate industry. Top ranked on the pro circuit until taking a break to create Skateboarding Explained, he is also the top instructor at Lake Owen in Colorado, having taught thousands of skaters. Lake Owen is one of three Woodward camps known worldwide as the best camps to attend if you want to learn or improve skateboarding.
Skateboarding Explained’s nuts and bolts explanations are designed to teach skating to anyone from 5 to fifty (MacFarlane has taught a 51 year old to skate). The how-to dvd offers more than the typical trick-tips how-to-video. It stresses the fundamentals over and over throughout the dvd. This is smart, a must, especially for parents whose children have taken an interest in skateboarding. Foot placement, eye lines with on-screen arrows to position a skater’s focus in front of them as they move as well as narration by MacFarlane stresses practice, practice, practice. This repetition is key to assist new skaters get better and faster, not by merely popping in a video.
In an era of demanding rapid results this dvd is refreshing, something that reinforces practice instead of a quick fix. Kids spending time playing video games are susceptible to the notion that performing a kick flip is as easy as pressing buttons on a game controller. The basics are the main ingredient for any trick you want to perform, whether the 50/50, the Varial kick flip, Pop-Shovits or a nose or board slide.
Without these basic fundamentals, without learning first and having it down solid, learning the harder tricks is more difficult. These fundamentals, such as foot placement and sight lines, are repeated throughout Skateboarding Explained but are important to learning and are the basis for anything created or learned later on. It serves as a reminder to kids who are eager to learn but may be impatient. So even if someone is impatient, and skips further to the harder tricks, they are still getting reinforcement of the basics.
Also of note is the inclusion of footage of falling by MacFarlane. Doing so reminds kids that practice is necessary and even the pros still take a fall. While MacFarlane has been skating for 20 years and is a pro he is smart to stress that falling down and getting up to try again is imperative to those willing to learn. Trial and error will make you a better skater. And MacFarlane’s video shortens the learning curve without sacrificing safety.
The video is about focus. Instructions are simple, easy to understand and the footage is shot clean and in slow-motion (think The Matrix, 300) which illustrates the range of movement a skater should be emulating. The footage is shown without narration focusing solely on proper movement, no distractions. The dvd is separated by chapters for each lesson so it’s easy to back up and watch again.
Next to a helmet, Skateboarding Explained is a solid investment by parents or anyone, at any age, wanting to learn to skateboard.

BOOTLEG: How did the idea come about for Skateboarding Explained?
DAN: From the time I began instructing, my students would tell me how they liked lessons with me because I would actually “Explain” the tricks. They said they had videos that didn’t really help them, and they suggested that I make one.
BOOTLEG: How long have you taught at Lake Owen?
DAN: Since 2001. (I have taught thousands of private lessons and at other camps too.)
BOOTLEG: With the release last December and a wide release in May 2007, how easy or difficult has it been to get the word out to skate shops around the U.S.? Has it been word of mouth/internet buzz mostly?
DAN: The primary distributor, VAS Entertainment has really gotten the word out. Also, we have had magazine ads, an ad on Olliepop gum packs, and thousands of flyers distributed at major skate contests and events everywhere. I also spent a lot of time getting the word out through MySpace. I’m glad I did, because the real buzz came with the release of the 360 flip sample video on Myspace. They featured it as a “cool new video” and it ended up being the 2nd “Top Played” video out of all of Myspace that day. It had over 285,000 plays in one day! I took it off after a week, and in the end it had over 327,000 plays and a 5 star rating! MySpace has been a powerful tool for sure.
BOOTLEG: What do enjoy most about teaching others to skateboard?
DAN: I like to help people do things that they never thought they could do, and help them break away from self limiting thoughts. Even if they eventually get into something else besides skateboarding, they’ll carry the principles they learned with them.
BOOTLEG: What is the age range of students?
DAN: I have taught people from 5 years, to a 51 year old woman. I had the 51 year old woman doing fakie 360 kick turns on ramp, and fakie backside shove-its on flat ground! It was awesome!
BOOTLEG: What do you find is the hardest part of skateboarding for students to learn or what is the biggest hurdle?
DAN: A lot of people set limits on themselves or think negative thoughts. I help them get past this by teaching them tricks that are realistic for them, then pointing out how they just overcame their self limiting thoughts by landing the trick. This really works!
BOOTLEG: Is it easier to teach bowl skating versus street? Which do you enjoy most?
DAN: Once one learns the fundamentals and basics, the difficulty of learning street or bowl seems about equal…It just depends on how far one wants to take it. I enjoy teaching both…I am happy as long as the student is happy and learning what they want to learn.
BOOTLEG: How long did it take to shoot, edit and complete the dvd?
DAN: Due to weather and camp being in session, there were a lot of obstacles and challenges filming it. We basically filmed all of the stand-up shots in two days. On the third day we filmed the fundamental tricks, and on the last day, we were under budgeting and time pressures, so we filmed the rest for 16 hours straight! I was smelling blood and felt like I was going to have a heart attack after skating for that long! Keep in mind that I was the director too. To produce and edit it took about 6 months. It was gnarly. When you watch it, the video is so easy to follow, but the hardest part was making it work that way.
BOOTLEG: What has been the response so far?
DAN: The response has been great! It’s like the positive response I get when I actually teach, but on a much larger scale.
BOOTLEG: Do you have any other dvd’s planned?
DAN: Definitely! I have already been drafting new versions.
BOOTLEG: How long have been a professional skateboarder?
DAN: I have been pro since 2002.
BOOTLEG: When did you first become interested in it?
DAN: I started skating when I was 11. Since then, it’s all I want to do. Skateboarding tends to do that to people.
BOOTLEG: What has been the appeal for you, the physicality, the outsider/independence aspect of the sport…?
DAN: I was always stoked on what could be done on a skateboard. I like the fact that you don’t need a team or partner. The other thing that I love about skateboarding is how creative you can be with it, and finding new obstacles to conquer or take your tricks to. For instance, I thought up that Barley stall to 270 out (the photo sequence) and did it the next day, just for this interview. To me, that’s what is awesome about skateboarding…creating and progressing.
BOOTLEG: Have you ever been a surfer?
DAN: I live in Houston and there’s a bunch of surfers here in the gulf coast. I have tried to surf, and stood up once, but that’s about it. I would definitely like to get into it.
BOOTLEG: As a skater, what is it you like about Mentality decks? Have you made modifications or asked for them in order to grow as a skater?
DAN: All Mentality products go through a meticulous testing process before being picked by the team. We won’t make anything that we wouldn’t ride or wear ourselves. Everything is top quality and as a result, everyone is really happy. I feel that the main thing about Mentality is the message that were sending…”Your mentality has everything to do with riding a skateboard and the lifestyle that goes along with it.”
BOOTLEG: You’re from Houston, in your travels do you find that skateboarding is similar no matter where you go, the attitudes, the drive for the sport, or do regional differences make a strong impact?
DAN: There are noticeable regional differences because of weather, terrain etc, but overall I think skateboarders are skateboarders everywhere you go.
BOOTLEG: Throughout your career, what has been the biggest change in skateboarding?
DAN: The biggest change has been the expansion of skateboarding into the mainstream. I wish I had all of these public skate parks when I was growing up! Also, it is considered “cool” to be a skateboarder now. When I was growing up, being a “skater” seemed to have a lot more negative implications. I’m glad it’s more accepted now.
BOOTLEG: Do you see skateboarding remaining an outsider sport, something that will remain independent, or do you see it growing as a sport taken in by larger companies?
DAN: I think there will always be skateboarder owned companies. I believe all skateboard companies should be run by skateboarders because one must actually be “live” skateboarding and pay their dues to actually understand what it’s all about. However, I think it’s pretty obvious that big companies are going to be cashing in on what we created…They’re already doing it and they’re getting better at it. There are positives to this and there are negatives to this. It’s our responsibility as skateboarders to keep the integrity…I think we’ve done a pretty good job at it so far.
BOOTLEG: Do you see it growing as a sport taken in by larger companies?
DAN: That is a possibility if we don’t hold our ground. I think it’s inevitable that skateboarding is going to, keep growing; it’s just a matter of whether we’re in control of what goes on or not. I would like to see skateboarder owned companies become the “large companies” so that we won’t have to worry this stuff. Certain skate companies have already achieved this independence.
BOOTLEG: How do you feel about the encroachment of larger companies on the world of skateboarding? Or, in other ways, has it always been there to some extent?
DAN: This is an industry built from the ground up by people who love to skateboard…I am not too stoked on how certain companies have crept in and began to cash in our efforts. Once again, that has its positives too, because after much protest from us, some of them are giving back.
BOOTLEG: What skater(s) do admire most or did as a young person?
DAN: Tony Hawk, and Rodney Mullen. I still admire them because they are still pushing the limits on many levels.
BOOTLEG: Skateboarding is bigger than ever, where do you see it going in the next ten years?
DAN: I recently saw an article where the Sporting Goods Manufacturing Association, or SGMA said that in the next few years, skateboarders would out number baseball players. Skateboarding is taking over!

Skateboarding Explained can be obtained from your local skate shop, skateboardingexplained.com, monsterskate.com, skatewarehouse.com
and can be rented by download on totalvid.com. It will also be available
through CCS.com in their summer preview (mid April).

SO SO GLOS ep REVIEW

2008-01-29T12:43:00.000-05:00

The So So Glos ep Review

Those vested in categorizing everything as cool, or already over, will not like anything for more than its perceived short shelf life. That attitude causes the swift music fans to miss the gold nugget in the silt. Their perception that something is ‘cool’ overlooks the fact that it’s good. Their loss.
Some bands get labeled as the momentary cool thing, which is dangerous when they’re good. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen to New York City’s The So So Glos. They are good, they are cool and say something as they play music that puts the New York Dolls, The Clash and the sparseness of The Strokes in a cab careening down a dark alley collision.
Mixing up a sometimes overlooked genre of rock and roll and brash swagger, The So So Glos have recorded one of the best collection of songs (four to be exact) to come along in a while. You can feel and smell the city on their EP, dripping with attitude, fun and angst. The tracks are thick with rhythm and gut deep sentimentality, criss-crossing bombast with gentility.
Beginning with a singular siren guitar riff on ‘Black & Blue’ singer Alex Levine belts out The cops put a black boy in back of the car/The pretty people watch it as they strut into the bar. He sings as if being dragged away by thugs, his delivery soulful, like a staggered rally cry. The guitar is playful and pointed, moving along and then going quiet, making a point, supplanted even further by the drumming and a howling chorus of have you got it all figured out? It is fucking blissful, hoarse and brazenly Joe Strummer to boot.
‘Seventeen’ opens with harmonica, hand claps and ‘Used to Love Her’ descending guitar strumming, Seventeen and closet queen/Flashing purple on the screen…You’d rather bite the bullet than to take a chance/You’d rather be a mouse than be a man…It’s a biography with a Beggar’s Banquet feel, a wall of sound that hits hard.
There’s the New York Dolls driving strut of ‘Broken Mirror Baby’ as the band namedrops themselves. ‘Low’ is a rave-up, sounding thirty years old and new at the same time. Four songs and the band have produced something more meaningful than some say with a whole record. It has power, wildness, and a vibe and elicits the promise of something more.
The band contentedly echoes The Clash, The J. Geils Band or the swagger of T.Rex. Thank god this style of playing lives on; fun and dangerous just the same. They’re telling stories with a superb soundtrack. It may seem like they don’t give a shit, the playing is energetic and seemingly effortless. But the band does give a shit, wanting to put teeth back in music, demanding that an audience listen, dance and participate.
This is the type of band that would get airplay on SNL back in the day, a band with something to say, a little reckless. Now all you get is Avril Lavigne. Take this to heart from lead singer Alex Levine:

“I live amongst the apathetic generation. We think that we're something special, when in fact we are all beautifully mediocre. Incredibly so-so. We stand for nothing, care about nothing, talk a lot, and do nothing. Apocalyptic beings waiting for the end, and exploiting what’s left while we are still here. Making sure we look good as the world crumbles in devastation. I am as dim as the lights from the city, a fucking SO SO GLO. Just like you. Change Something.”

myspace.com/sosoglos

- Brian Tucker

LASER TATTOO REMOVAL

2008-01-29T12:36:00.000-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine May 2007

Johnny Depp sported a tattoo in the early 90’s that read ‘Winona Forever,’ referencing his engagement to actress Winona Ryder. When the relationship ended the tattoo was altered to read ‘Wino Forever,’ blocking out the ‘n’ and ‘a’ with black ink. Today, he could go the way of Danny Bonaduce, having it removed by laser.
Technology has come a long way it seems. Tattoo removal is as commonplace as hair removal or ridding noticeable spider veins. In an effort to clean up the image of marines, the Marine Corps began limiting tattoos last March, banning large tattoos below the elbow and the knee (the Army is not following the same pattern, allowing tattoos above the neckline). This led to many marines getting tattoos before the deadline. Still, what about removal?
In Wilmington tattoo removal is available at Atlantic Dermatology and now Lucky Seven Tattoo, the only tattoo shop in the area with a laser removal machine. Now, you can return to the tattoo parlor for removal or alterations if you’re in Johnny Depp’s predicament. It’s relatively painless and takes anywhere from four to ten treatments. But people enter into removal for a variety of reasons.
Laura, the nursing supervisor at Atlantic Dermatology said, “Usually we get people who get a tattoo on a weekend and realize they don’t like what they’ve done. People call and see what they can do to get rid of it.” She says that clients range in all ages, those who got them years ago and don’t want them anymore. But it may be work related as well. “Jobs require employees to not have them, they can’t cover them up.” Or it’s familial. “Spouses don’t like them for whatever reason and they feel like they have to get rid of them.”
But for those expecting removal to be done in a drive-thru fashion it’s not quicker than when the tattoo was originally inked. Removal of a tattoo is dependent upon several things, the colors used, the type of inks, which laser machine used for the removal and time. Most tattoos take between four to ten treatments. Between these treatments the skin has to heal and that period of time is different for the individual.
Atlantic Dermatology uses a machine that is in rotation between offices and they utilize different lasers for removal, depending on the tattoo. They have found that their Gentle Laze laser used for hyper pigmentation and laser hair removal treats them (tattoos) also. They allow up to three months between treatments but is dependent on the rate of healing.
“We evaluate everything at the consultation and if we feel they’re a good candidate - if they’ll get good results, if they’re tattoos are either, we call them jailhouse tattoos or if they’re professional tattoos. Because we don’t know the inks that were used,” Laura says. The homemade, or, jailhouse tattoos, might be harder to get rid of or easier to get rid of. The doctor or physician’s assistant don’t know what inks were used. These are the factors involved in evaluating and removing the tattoo and then there’s healing of the skin.
“It depends on how the tattoo is healing,” Laura says. “There may be blisters, almost like a burn. You put polysporin on it, covered till it heals. Sometimes we switch them over to a different laser to so they don’t have to wait that full three months. It may take six to ten treatments depending on the color. Dark colors work better. Oranges red and yellows and greens are harder. Dark blues, purples are easy. People don’t say it’s any worse than getting a tattoo.”
Atlantic Dermatology has been doing removal for nearly ten years and the number of clients is steadily growing, becoming a lucrative business. So it only makes sense that that tattoo parlors get involved in the business. Enter Wilmington’s Lucky Seven Tattoo.

I arrived at Lucky Seven Tattoo April 9th. While one staff member was preparing to ink a tattoo for a customer no one else was around. It was unusually quiet except for the faint, tiny sound of slaps coming from a small room near one of the inking areas.
I stood outside this particular room normally used for piercing, waiting to speak with shop owner Brian Price. In place of a door is a tan curtain and now closer I was better able to hear the tiny snapping sounds, like a whip cracked by a Smurf. The sounds were repetitive. They were the sounds of the laser being used to remove a tattoo. Price has been using the machine on himself to remove a tattoo in order to show customers in addition to correct part of another.
Piercer Mike Page and Price used the laser to remove tiny moles and page used it for some veins in his nose. “We’ve been practicing on ourselves,” Mike says, showing me the work underneath his shirt and left side of his nose. By doing so, they have experienced how much to use the laser for removal. Another staff member in training, Tracy, had peach fuzz on her lip removed in addition to two small moles that will require a few more treatments.
“I was thinking about tattoo removal for a few years because so many people come in for cover up’s,” Price says. “Just about everyone I know has something they want removed or covered up.”
Price also wants to work with the gang task service in Wilmington in regards to tattoo removal.
Paul Cenac, MD was in Wilmington from Atlanta that day to install a Q-Clear laser machine and train Lucky Seven staff members. The machine is the size of an old fashioned typewriter or cash register and resembles a prop from the Jetsons cartoon show.
I listen to Paul describe other uses for the machine, hair removal and spider veins.
“Seventy per cent women have spider veins,” he says. “Caused by weakening from estrogen”
Paul used the machine to remove hair on his left hand three years ago yet his right is still covered with black hair. He did so as a testament to his belief in the process and refers to the one hand with hair as ‘monkey knuckles,’ a walking billboard for hair removal. Removal is relatively painless and the process for hair removal works by the laser killing off blood supply to the hair. I asked them to use the laser on a sunspot/freckle on my right hand. It took longer to prep for the work than to actually do it. We put on protective glasses and Paul offered a cold compress to numb my skin. I declined.
Paul placed the laser ‘gun’ above my hand and using a red light as a guide, ‘fired’ a few times over the sun spot. It looks like this; pulses of light hit the ink, vein or sun spots to remove them. The gun looks like a laser pistol crossed with a Makita heat gun. It happens very quickly. The snapping sound happens and the light hitting my skin feels like a mosquito that’s landed and trying to dig in.
Photo-acoustic is the term for that snapping sound. Paul refers to it as a sonic boom at the cellular level.
“The sound of the pulse hitting the ink under the skin. That’s the sound of the pigment breaking up, when you hear the popping sound,” Paul explains.
I was left with what looked like faint spots of ash on my hand. It didn’t hurt and the area eventually scabbed over a little and fell away. Less than two weeks later the sunspot is completely gone. I have a spot of new skin that needs to catch up on its tan.
As further demonstration, Tracy sat down and used this process to have peach fuzz removed from her upper lip. Paul applied color to the area above her lip and began using the laser. It looked strange, tiny bursts of light above her lip, as though she were being subjected to something you’d see in a Terry Gilliam film. But she sat calmly until Paul was finished. The end result was that she now had a smooth and shiny upper lip, free from facial hair.
Brian’s arm is a little more complex. He has a detailed, all black Celtic tattoo that wound halfway around the upper portion of his arm, approximately three inches tall. He has been removing it over time to show customers. One half is disappearing, appearing as a murky light grey tattoo and the other half is still solid black.
After a first treatment there is scabbing and must heal before another treatment. It is no different than when you scratch your arm, scabbing over and eventually falling away leaving new, fresh skin. Here’s how the treatment process works;
The laser strikes the skin and ink underneath. It breaks it up the ink allowing the body to absorb the ink particles. At a microscopic level ink is like a basketball and the macrophage (cells that ingest a wide variety of particles in our body) is a tennis ball sitting next to the basketball. The macrophage can’t absorb the ink because it’s too big. The laser acts as a bullet hitting the basketball breaking it down so the macrophage can absorb the pigment. Then, the macrophage internalizes the pigment thus digesting it in the cell.
Different laser wavelengths are absorbed by different colors. Black and blues are absorbed by 1064 nanometer wavelength. Reds and purples are absorbed by 563 nanometers. Greens by 755. Those are three main wavelengths used for tattoo removal.
“It tickles at 532 wavelength nanometers and at 1064 feels like mosquito bite without the sting,” Paul says.
All tattoos are the full thickness of the skin, usually, and have to be removed in layers. Depending on the amount of ink initially injected, and depth, it will determine how many treatments necessary to remove all the layers. It takes usually 4-10 treatments. That may seem excessive but bear in mind that during the 80’s and 90’s a tattoo would be cut off leaving the shape of that tattoo.
“In twenty three years of laser advancement we’ve gotten to the point where the tattoo is removed from the skin,” Paul says. “We use the normal processes of the body to remove the ink.”

Paul Cenac has been involved with lasers since 1983 and the first lasers he worked with were for cancer surgery. Over the years he has worked with lasers that don’t damage tissue but work with living cells to accomplish desired results. They are thirty eight different medically effective lasers. There are three wavelengths used for tattoo removal, using two of those wavelengths at Lucky Seven Tattoo in a non-destructive manner.
The technology has only been available since 2004, what is called a quartz switched laser, so the on-off switch works at the speed of light through a quartz filter. This is recent in the history of lasers. Albert Einstein theorized lasers (light amplification by the stimulation emission of radiation) were possible in 1910 while working as a post office clerk. Writing his idea on the back of an envelope, it was nearly 35 years before mankind was able to recreate his theory and make the first laser in the 1940’s which was essential in the development of nuclear weapons that ended World War II.
That technology is the building block of nuclear power plants and medicine so laser technology and nuclear technology parallel one another. Advances in computers and solid state electronics and chips now allow users to have a laser the size of bread box that once was the size of ten by ten foot room and switch it on and off at the speed of light versus having to press a pedal manually.
Paul works with lasers in various clinics and Light Age Incorporated developed the Q-Clear laser machine. The owner of the Light Age Incorporated made Alexandrite-Laze in 1983, taking it commercial in 1986. It is the basis for all laser hair removal.
“We want them to use what we consider to be the safest lasers on the market. Even the safest laser on the market can be harmful if not used with proper training,” Paul says. “The company feels it’s really worthwhile to not only put a good instrument in the hand of the end user but to give them the training so they give the best results and in the safest manner.”
I ask Paul about spider veins, another application of the laser. He says that generally women have thinner skin and thinner vessels and capillary walls. Their capillary walls break easier resulting in more bruising since the walls are more fragile.
“With that thinness they dilate from pressure over time. As the vessels dilate and get bigger they become more visible through the skin. They occur frequently with more estrogen pulses women have, occurring more during pregnancy,” Paul explains.
The laser works on spider/varicose veins by coagulating the blood in the vein in which the body comes along and absorbs that coagulated vein, removing the unsightly appearance. In addition a person will have about 40 times more venus outflow from the skin. Removing those visible veins allows the skin to look clean and still be healthy.
But how is it that a tattoo parlor can use a machine one may only associate with a doctor? Technology has made it more accessible and treatable for one. Second, staff members at the tattoo shop are trained to use the machine and are overseen by a medical director.
Lucky Seven Tattoo has a local medical director, who’s about two blocks away, that oversees their. In North Carolina the rule is the medical director has to be within a half hour of the clinic.
“That person is the medical umbrella, the medical supervision of the process,” Paul explains. “Even if this machine was in his office it’s usually the tech’s who do the treatments so we train the tech’s how to use the equipment to do the procedures. This is like the tech’s are not in the office they’re here (Lucky Seven) but still under his supervision.”
This is similar to what Laura explained at Atlantic Dermatology where Dr. Stephen Crane does most of the treatments. “The physician’s assistants can do them,” she says. “There’s no scarring, some people, you can see a faint image. Some just have clear skin,” Laura says. What is left behind may resemble a light birth mark.
Costs of the procedure are varied and worth investigating. It may be more efficient to go to the tattoo parlor than a doctor’s office. That is dependent upon the person. It may be cheaper. A tattoo shop has more square footage than a typical doctor’s office. To some, it’s more comfortable and less clinical.

But tattoo removal is becoming much bigger. Dr. TATTOFF is a name that is getting around. During the mid-nineties James Morel and his brother published the magazine Pop Smear in New York City which resulted in a healthy, five year run. The magazine’s vibe was sex, drugs and rock and roll. Morel won’t disclose the tattoo, but he says one he had it didn’t exactly fit the magazine’s attitude.
“I had to have a tattoo removed,” he says, “a ridiculous tattoo.”
Morel went in search to have it removed. That experience eventually led to another business venture, one that is very successful in Beverly Hills, on the corner of Wilshire and La Cienega. As CEO of Dr. TATTOFF, he and his business partners own three stores in California under the name Dr. TATTOFF. In August they plan to open four Dr. TATTOFF stores a month and with backing from those with experience in chain stores, plan on building ninety across the United States.
It’s good business. Morel thinks so.
“Think of all the tattoos put on in nineties. That style is not particularly popular right now. Think of all the changes recently with technology. People’s personalities are changing so fast these days that what you thought was cool even two to three years ago you may not believe in. You know, maybe it’s time to have that removed. Get your Soul Asylum tattoo removed,” he says with a chuckle.
Dr. TATTOFF uses a Q-switch laser, he says is the best on the market. “The lasers they used before was a ruby laser. The problem with those lasers was they got the tattoo off but left scars. Before that were argon lasers but that was even worse.”
The lasers used now use wavelengths that are specifically targeted for certain ink colors that do minimal damage to the skin. “So basically you can have the color taken out and it doesn’t take your pigment out or damage the skin.”
Morel said that yellow ink is tougher to remove and that a nice black tattoo or dark color on light skin has a very high chance of being removed. Morel says it doesn’t depend on the person, that the general rule of thumb is a person wait 6-8 weeks between treatments and that you’re looking at six to eight treatments also. Dr. TATTOFF’s patient’s age range runs the gamut, people that are adults who as kids went to their friend’s garage when they were thirteen and got homemade tattoos.
“Generally 25 – 35 years old and the majority of them are women,” he says. “Homemade tattoos are easier. The professionals use so much ink and they do a good job with their coverage that it takes longer to break up the ink. Generally, those homemade tattoos they can’t get the ink in far enough.”
Even in Beverly Hills Morel says that less than ten per cent of patients are celebrities but does their fair share of work for them. “Just being in this town, my business partners are guys in the entertainment industry, who own clubs in town. The word gets around quickly, Grammy winners, Oscars winners. They (the movie industry) do a good job of covering up tattoos and putting them on in this town.”
One celebrity was Danny Bonaduce who got a black ring tattoo on his ring finger to demonstrate the strength of his newfound fidelity after sleeping with another woman. His wife disliked it because it reminded of him cheating every time she saw it. Enter Dr. TATTOFF.
Removing the ring was different not that it was close to the bone but because of the location on his body. Tattoos that are further away from your heart, more towards your extremities, your fingers or toes, take a little bit longer to remove because there’s not as much blood flowing through there and your system can’t work to get that ink out after it’s treated. It doesn’t go away as well as on an arm. It takes longer.
“Not a lot of people think about that,” Morel adds, that it’s harder for the body’s macrophages to work to remove the ink.

For more information check out

www.luckyseventattoo.net
www.atlanticdermatology.com
www.DrTATOFF.com
www.lightage.com

WE FEST & KENYATA SULLIVAN

2008-01-29T12:27:00.000-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine May 2007

Kenyatta Sullivan has been involved with WE Fest, or, the Wilmington Exchange Festival, since before its inception in the mid nineties. He helped found the band Pandora’s Lunchbox in 1990 and formed a second, The Majestic Twelve, several years ago. He could pass for Jeff Tweedy, a head full of messy black hair and a voice that is genteel southern and a tough Texan.
I spoke with him in the low light of The Cellar downtown last March and again at his home near the beach. On both occasions he talked openly and at length about his life around music while smoking a cigarette or two. Sullivan is passionate about what he does, passionate about his family and life’s opportunities.
The annual festivities begin Thursday May 24th and last until Monday May 28th at the Soapbox in downtown Wilmington. Three floors of music and entertainment all for a buck a day. That’s right, a shit load of music for a DOLLAR a day. That means more cash in hand to spend at the bar or buying merch from something new you discovered.
W.E. Fest is several days of do-it-yourself, volunteer-run entertainment that always takes place during the week of Memorial Day Weekend. Only indie-label and unsigned bands are allowed to play W.E. Fest; no major acts allowed.

How long have been involved with music in Wilmington and what are you known most for?
I don’ know if I’m known at all. I’ve been involved in Wilmington music since 1991 when I started my first band. I had fan ‘zines and was part of the scene, went to shows. I started Pandora’s Lunchbox in 1990, 1991. The scene was vibrant, different back then. Very few bands left Wilmington to. Bands expect to tour now.

What did you learn from your experiences with Pandora’s Lunchbox that has helped with WE Fest?
Dealing with clubs, learning how to get around having to deal with clubs. That’s when I became part of the underground, for real, as in corresponding with people all over the world. Trading things with people all over the world, realizing how much wonderful stuff was out there that people didn’t have access to. This is pre-Internet underground. I think it’s hard for people from this new generation to realize how hard it was to find something that you really liked. There were very few choices in your local scene. There weren’t that many local bands, not many choices on the radio. It was hard to hear an unsigned band in another part of the world. It’s different now that it’s hard to grasp how hard it was to make friends with somebody in a band in D.C. It took maybe a year, because you’re dealing with the mail, before you got an idea of how much was out there that was just genuinely unknown.

How did the underground music scene influence WE Fest?
The underground, the one thing that defined it for me (back then) was that all of us were different. The one thing we had in common is that we were interested in experiencing things that were new to us. But we were all very different, we had different political opinions, we like different kinds of music and we ended up cross pollinating and exposing each another to things that we individually believed in.

What was the catalyst for W.E. Fest?
I was talking on the phone with Jehn Cerron who didn’t even play W.E. Fest until 1999, performing what I think is the single most memorable set by any musician. Jehn is about five two and gets up onstage with a series of repeat pedals and she builds her voice into these huge soundscapes by using the repeat pedals and then she whittles them down into songs in real time. It is breathtaking. After the set, one of the regulars, a punk rocker with twelve inch Mohawk walked up to me and said Kenyatta, I just heard the voice of god. Jehn and I were talking on the phone and she said when are we gonna get together? All of us fucking lunatics in our little corners of the world who are convinced we’re important. That was the impetus.

(After the conversation Sullivan’s previous band, Pandora’s Lunchbox , played the Philadelphia Music Conference. They stayed at one of the organizers’ house, Rick D’Angelo, who was fed up with the whole thing. He said he’d move down to Wilmington and do W.E. Fest. He still lives here, in Oak Island doing real estate. That was the beginning.)

It was very Little Rascals, C’mon guys let’s put on a show. I know a band from the Netherlands! It’s gonna be great! If you don’t get it, fuck you. The first year it wasn’t very well attended so I thought I sucked. I can’t ever do this again. I was in bed for a week. Then the press started coming in. People from fanzines started writing about it. Bands started calling and mailing thank you notes. Saying this is the best thing I’ve ever been to. This is the best thing I’ve ever been to because of this. I actually made real friends. I am booking tours now because of the people I met. People went from not being to get a show to playing up and down the east coast because they had all of these other bands who had in’s at all these clubs. Bands booked a whole a tour from the people they met. That’s what W.E. Fest is supposed to be.

What’s attendance like and when do shows begin?
I would say that we’ll have over the course of the week, 700-1000 people. But who knows really, you just don’t know. We have nights where we couldn’t squeeze another person in the door. The music starts in the evening at eight usually and runs until two. We may start a littlie earlier. There are certain artists that have a specific crowd who’d want to see them at five or six. The bottom line is that everybody who plays, plays to a good crowd. We’ll have at least six bands a day, some extra on Saturday. Bands come and play for free. Everyone volunteers their time, pays their own way, from organizers to the artists which is why we can keep it so cheap. Because everyone volunteers we can keep it so dirt cheap it keeps it high quality, the essence of DIY. W.E. Festival isn’t for everybody. If you’re a cooler than thou hip indy kid you’re not gonna like W.E. fest. We don’t judge you by your t-shirt. For a buck you can discover a lot of music. That’s the goal, to discover things that will have real meaning in your life. The Soapbox has opened their doors, all three floors, for all five days.

Do you think that e-mail and the Internet, has taken some of the excitement out of discovering new things?
Some people do but I don’t know that I do necessarily. It’s just different. I think there are things that have been lost. There’s a personal aspect that’s been lost. It took so much effort to do it back then that it weeded out the weak, the people who really didn’t care, who weren’t willing to make that kind of effort to experience new and different things.

How much time goes into preparing for the Festival?
Months. I try and start before January. Right now I’m waiting on confirmations, fan ‘zines for the kids, getting films locked down. It takes months and months to put together. We’re talking three stages of event, five days. That’s a lot of people and stuff to coordinate, a lot of events for a dollar a day. Some people don’t understand that it’s the idea that we’re going to get together and show each other what we’re doing and get drunk. The thing that’s really a whole lot different is that I’m dealing with a lot more managers than I’ve ever dealt with before. As a whole there’s a whole glut of would be management where a lot of people think they know what they’re doing and have no idea. That’s a mess. I’d say to any band don’t let anyone be your manager unless they have an established track record. Don’t sign anything even its from your friend. Have a lawyer look at it. A lot of people are calling themselves managers and they have a clue to what the job entails. A lot of people who contacted me for W.E. Fest are really bad at it, are clueless. And some of them are becoming known among people who book as people they will not deal with.

Are bands generally enthused about playing the festival, even though they foot their own bill?
Yeah. Next year we have to start not letting bands who played before play again. We have a huge recidivist rate. One band who played, broke up, but are coming this year to hang out for five days. We encourage bands to come play and not leave, hang out for a few days. The best part about W.E. Fest is about how bands work together over time. Get to know each other, share booking contacts, help out with shows here and there – all kinds of stuff. There’s so many ways bands can help each other. That’s how you build communities. The guys in the Dismemberment Plan still say that the W.E. Fest show was one of their best show ever they ever had. They played at three o’clock in the morning in a basement with three kegs. It was fantastic, everyone was up there with the band, exuberant, excited and into it.

In the loosest sense, what is WE Fest or if it had a mission statement what would it say?
That’s changed over time. When we first started there was a clear cut indy versus major kind of battle going on. You were on one side or the other. A lot of the bands that most every day kids think of as underground are no where near underground. There’s an upper tier of indy music that has all the resources, kinds of management that major labels have. They just don’t have a major label but for all practical purposes they have those things. So the distinction isn’t the same. But I think it’s all been nebulous what we do. For me, the best part of WE Fest is what happens afterwards, what bands do after.

Is there still a crowd for W.E. Fest?
That’s the big fear. We don’t attach ourselves to any one click. It’s very hard to get people from these various clicks to come out because why do they want to mess with those other people? They don’t like those other people. We’re looking for the one or two of you that are real, that are individuals that genuinely have your own opinions and don’t let other people tell you what to think. If we can get a room full of people who actually believe something then that’s fantastic. You will be exposed to something different every night, not just different types of music but different ways of playing music.

Do you plan to continue the DIY aspect of W.E. Fest?
I don’t foresee us accepting any corporate sponsorship because we don’t have to. And if WE Fest does stand for something is that you can do this over and over again and you don’t have to kiss anyone’s ass to do it. Our job is to make sure that everyone who pays their dollar leave thinking ‘I can’t believe that was only a dollar.’ And also that the bar makes money because it makes it easier next year. That the bands that play and all the people who travel feel glad they made the trip. We really focus on the bands as opposed to the festival. It’s the bands that make the event not the other way around. They’re doing us a favor by coming here. We’re not doing them a favor by filling a slot.

It’s a community service in a sense, exposing people to things they wouldn’t normally see.
That’s what we thought in 1996. We wanted to expose our town and our scene and our community to all the fantastic things we were finding in the underground. I remember on the very first day of the first WE Fest and I saw this girl, a five foot three hard bodied blonde walking down the street like she built it, wearing nothing but thigh high leather boots and a G-string with electrical tape on her nipples and she’d written with magic marker down her arm Fuck You I’m From Syracuse. I was, like, we win. You know, we win. She was the dominatrix who traveled with 99 Cent Special. She’s in California now.

Why did you pick Memorial Day weekend for the Festival?
We chose it because it was arbitrary and no other event was going on then. We worked around all the major conferences. We were supposed to be an option. An option where you didn’t have to spend all this money to be considered. We took all the money out of the equation. Where nobody got in because they were somebody’s brother. A lot of those events, that’s how they work. This year we’re letting people do showcases – Trekky Records from Greensboro, Organic Entertainment is doing a showcase, Eskimo Records.

What else will the festival have besides music?
Small press, fan ‘zines, indy comics. Traveling art. The Big Art Show is coming down from New York. The Yard Art people. All forms of indy culture, cross pollination, where the filmmakers are meeting the bands and the visual artists are meeting the people who are writing about them. Everybody getting to know one another. And beer. Beer is a big part of We Fest. We like beer. We started off doing microbrews but I don’t about this year.

Is the live streaming going to be a go?
Yeah, it looks great. If you’re home you can watch it or if you’re parents won’t let you go to a rock show, which we understand. Listen to your parents.

Is W.E. Fest for everyone?
It’s not for the people who don’t give a shit. People who don’t give a shit - stay home. The people who do give a shit, you will be in a room with a whole a lot of other people who love music, who love saying fuck you to the man, who love building things as opposed to buying things. People need to be exposed to this. But it’s really for people who are interested in seeing things that are interesting and different. And a lot of people aren’t. A lot of people they just want to listen to their 311 record again. And that’s fine. Good for them. But they aren’t going to have any fun at W.E. Fest.
WEFESTIVAL.COM

MUSICIAN STEPHEN SELLERS

2008-01-29T12:23:00.001-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine May 2007

Two years ago Stephen Sellers lay in the top bunk in a Connecticut correctional facility, his face eight inches away from the ceiling. Long before he began his twenty five day stay in the Connecticut prison a previous inmate drew a circle on the ceiling, a bare circle, nothing more. Sellers stared at the circle, feeling the way he’d felt for a long time, feeling sad, confused, depressed, thinking about how much it sucked to be locked up.
Sellers had lived a life fueled by self doubt and self medication, a life where music, alcohol, anything filled the void. There were no more second chances. He’d finally been handed a possession charge there was no way to get out of with money and lawyers. The road led him here, locked up. He was in a minimum security prison, safe away from the five days spent in a holding facility where all types of inmates shared space, with dangerous men. Sellers was lucky, luckier than the young man running his mouth and subsequently held down and raped not twenty feet away.
Sellers lay in the bunk staring at the ceiling, at the circle drawn by someone else. And a switch flipped inside him, as efficiently as the clock going from the ninth hour to the tenth. He figured it out. He knew what the problem was.

In the spring off 2006 Sellers left a CD behind a tiny Buddha at the front door of my house. The CD was Beatific Star and it was the start of the longest gestation of anything I’d write about. The CD is magnificent, a collage of music styles and, I would learn later on, a hard look into his own life. It is an album I’d return to frequently, play again and played loudly in the living room as I worked. I struggled with Beatific Star trying to review it for Avenue, it was so thick musically, so strong thematically, I honestly didn’t feel I could do it justice. I didn’t think I could tell a reader what I heard, how beautifully varied the album is. It is a collection of music you could listen to and craft a novel at the same time. Moving along like a soundtrack to something heart wrenching and hopeful, it offers musical shades of Pink Floyd, Nine Inch Nails and Roky Erickson. It’s acoustic and bombastic, the production spare and elegant, a Mercator Projection of music.

Sellers sits at the edge his front porch off Orange Street smoking a cigarette, looking content, bemused almost. His silence could be interpreted as someone sitting and stewing. I walk over and upon standing up he flashes a wide, tight smile. His blue eyes glisten and get small from smiling so wide. He’s in his late thirties, tall with a face textured and interesting, lined and angular. Seeing the smile I believe he may be the only person I know who looks his age and yet seems like a new born child, happy with what the world can offer.
“You want to see the new van?” he asks excitedly. I realize then that he was not staring out into space when I drove up but looking at the new white cargo van out on the street. Inside the van he points out work he’s done on it. There’s a storage area built at the rear doors to keep musical equipment from being stolen and the thick carpet on top for people to sleep while driving. It is a large van able to hold a lot of people and Sellers is planning to tour this year.
Back inside the house he plays a new song. It pours through the speakers reeking of psychedelic tones. It’s ethereal with a subtle groove.
“I’m trying to find a way to get that psychedelic country thing going and have parts in that are real tripped out,” he explains.
Placed center in the living room is a dark blue drum set. There are two small tables he made from nice, thin wood that look like a cross between the Jenga game and Frank Lloyd Wright. The room is filled with music equipment. Seller’s second album, Getting Born, was recorded in this small room decorated with photographs and diminutive pieces of art. There is no television, only furniture, music equipment for playing and recording and several shelves of books, CD’s and cassettes. That’s right, cassettes, many homemade from bands that have disbanded. It’s symbolic of the time passed since Sellers played in the Roanoke, Virginia band The Wanderers, living in a band house and going to college.
The road that began in Roanoke is long and winding and ended in Connecticut. Roads anew, life began again moving to Wilmington. It would be straightforward to talk about redemption, but perhaps rebirth is more appropriate.
Sellers played drums in The Wanderers, a serious touring band in which the members lived in a house together. At seventeen Sellers and a friend were digesting a lot of punk music. They bought an album by the Big Boys that on the back said START YOUR OWN BAND.
“We had been listening to all this music and thinking to ourselves this doesn’t sound that hard. It doesn’t sound like Rush or Black Sabbath or something we can’t do. We sat around one day and said, ‘we’re a band.’ All we have to do is get instruments and learn how to play. Starting today we’re a band.”
The friend said he wanted to play drums and Sellers agreed to play bass. Walking home from the friend’s home that same day he came across a drum set a family had thrown to the side of the road. It was so little and so light he carried the drum pieces home. He called up the friend telling him about the drums he found.
“I found a drum set so I’m the drummer,” he boasted. The friend agreed, went to a pawn shop and bought a used bass guitar. Sellers recounts the story, remembering the humble beginnings, animated and excited as if it just happened. He mimics playing an instrument.
“We got together a few days later and played dunh dunh dunh and we were a band, man! We went and got a guitar player and guy who could sing. But we couldn’t keep a singer. Then we found this guy named Jim who was in another band but got on board with us. We became The Waltons. And Jim could write good songs and was the drive behind the band. He was the guy who said we’re really gonna do songs, we’re gonna record, make music and play live shows. Do what other punk bands are doing. That was really exciting.”
For two years The Waltons played punk but morphed into playing psychedelic surf rock. The band became The Wanderers whose members ended up staying together, living in a house together, buying a van and touring. The band garnered some play from record labels. The Wanderers lived in a downtown neighborhood in Roanoke, Virginia where there was a bevy of musicians. The house was a functioning band living space and practice house for several bands. It was then Sellers met Pat Starkey.
“There was a lot of coming and going. Pat and his girlfriend broke up and he moved in the band house. We new he had music equipment and played in a band. Jim eventually went on to do another project years later and started a band called Vim Vigor Vitality, that had a cool, complex rockabilly sound.”
In Roanoke, Sellers attended college as did other members of the band. Everyone went to college within driving distance of Roanoke so The Wanderers never broke up.
“We all drove from whatever college we were going to into town on the weekends and played gigs or practiced. The thing slowed down but never died, always ramped up during the summertime. We would do these loops, playing Outer Banks, West Virginia, Tennessee and in North Carolina. We played Raleigh, Charlotte.”
All these Roanoke musicians were in respective punk bands in Roanoke. Mary Huff from Southern Culture on the Skids was in a punk band, NMP, and Sellers describes them as the best hardcore band in Roanoke. They also made it big, serving as inspiration for any band in the area.
“Mary was their bass player and not only were they the best punk band, but they had a girl in the band. The Walton’s were inspired by that and got two girl singers. Mary and Dave moved to Chapell Hill and started playing,” he says.
Time passed and Sellers reconnected with Mary. “We would get notes about them and then all of a sudden I’m talking with Mary and she says ‘We’re on Geffen records.’ I was like, Get the fuck outta here, man!” After Southern Culture on the Skids first release, Too Much Pork for Just One Fork, he started seeing CD reviews everywhere. “I think I saw a blurb in Rolling Stone. They got big in Australia. And then they started touring the world. I remember thinking, holy shit, it happened to some people from Roanoke. It can happen. At that point I didn’t know anybody who was signed to a major record deal and somebody was footing the bill for their tour. Look at their tour schedule; they’re relentless, over 200 gigs a year. They inspire me, for playing and sticking together,” he says and pauses, thinking for a moment, “because it’s hard.”

The Wanderers eventually grew apart. Sellers and Pat Starkey loaded up a car full of stuff and moved down to Austin, Texas. The pair was a “wrecking crew together” and subsequently their lives split, selling everything they owned down there, music equipment and all and moved away. Starkey stayed in Virginia and Sellers went north.
At thirty, Sellers moved to Connecticut where he took on a job with ESPN and it was his first job, having spent his twenties playing in a band as a moderate living. “I wouldn’t call it a living,” he says without humor.
Seller’s life advanced but problems still existed, there was now an influx of money working a good job for ESPN. But money meant material things, cars and nightlife which led to continued drinking and then cocaine. Money from a high profile job at ESPN made it much easier to fill Seller’s personal voids.
After six years in Connecticut and numerous arrests to his name, things hit a wall. A lawyer couldn’t save him anymore and without help he wouldn’t be able to help himself. But prison didn’t do the trick as one might think; it wasn’t incarceration per se, or the horrors of concrete confinement. He finally figured something out and it just took longer than most people. Spending thirty days there - five in a holding area, surrounded by men far more dangerous than him, and the remaining twenty five in a minimum security prison, something happened that he finds it difficult to explain to people.
“I’m laying in bed one night on the top bunk and the roof is only about eight inches off the top of my nose. I’m laying there basically the same person I’ve been for the last twenty years, very sad and depressed and confused and really not thinking about anything but how much it sucks to be locked up. And I’m staring up at the ceiling and some dude had written a circle on the ceiling and laying there staring at the circle but it was like somebody flipped a fuckin’ switch. And all of a sudden it dawned on me that the problem was not the world, that the problem was me, and how I see the world. And I know that sounds like a really simple thing and I think most adult people know that, that how you view the world is how good or how bad your life can be. That was the first time that had ever dawned on me.”
He pauses and looks straight ahead, thinking hard about his next sentence and then smiles.
“I woke up the next day it was like I was walking around in a new skin.”
Leaving prison nearly a month later Sellers knew substance abuse was going to be a problem, a large hurdle. For the first time in his life a request for help was made. He knew he had a problem, because he kept getting locked up over and over again, kept ending up in front of judges, getting DWI’s, possession charges, possession with intent to distribute charges. He knew there were all these problems – police, judges, the lawyers and parents and friends, everybody knew, including him, he just didn’t know how to stop. He ended up saying words that were difficult to say. Help me.
“Ask and you shall receive. That was the first time I asked for some help. Everywhere I turned, my friends, my family, as long as I was willing to ask for help. I got it. That hurdle became a little easier to get over. Then it was about how to be happy, how to have some confidence in myself. How to figure out who I am. Those are tough questions, those are tough questions for someone in a natural state of development I think. And for someone whose growth gets stunted as a teenager because you’re not asking the difficult questions, you’re not trying to move forward into adulthood and figure out how to be happy and productive.”
That combination laid groundwork for drugs and alcohol. Sellers was in a vicious and repetitive circle in which he needed to have people around him. He felt uncomfortable alone, needing to always have a girlfriend. Everything that made him feel deficient was replaced with something to fill the void – girlfriends, music and all the people who were interested in him because he played in a band.
“I thought that made me something. Made me cool, made people want to be around me,” he says, knowing it delayed the inevitable. “When I look back on that period of time it’s like looking at someone else’s life. If someone had told me four years ago that I could buy a guitar, that I could write one song, that I could be the guy to put together a band. I would have told them they had the wrong guy. I used to get tanked by myself during the day and daydream about, ‘am I the kind of guy that could start a band? Because wouldn’t that be cool, to be in a band again? That was something I look back on fondly. Wouldn’t be cool to front a band? I’d look at myself in the mirror and say I’m not that guy.”

Gary Anderson, a member of The Wanderers had heard of Wilmington. After the band split up, Gary moved to Wilmington and formed the surf band called The Derailers. The Derailers came back and played Roanoke and told his old band mates, Sellers included, that Wilmington was awesome, that they should move there. That was ten years ago.
After release from prison in 2003 and going clean, Sellers knew he needed to take a period of time, a long look at his life and figure out what he wanted to do with it. He asked what did he look back on and have good memories about, what made him happy, what is viable? It wasn’t material things or substances. His thoughts led to playing music, something that always made him happy. Creating music, practicing, touring, recording – all things he had great memories of and made him feel creative and alive.
Sellers was living in Roanoke, having lost his job, with a drained bank account from legal fees and without a driver’s license. He was at square one, in his mid thirties and without direction.
But he’d always wanted to write a song. He wondered, could he do it? Playing in a band for a long time taught him how to put one together. But he didn’t know.
“I thought I’d go out and buy a couple of guitars,” he says. “An acoustic and an electric.” Initially he bought a set of drums thinking he’d play in a band again. While looking for drum heads he saw a guitar that matched the blue in his drum set and put money down on it. He said, “I’m gonna kill myself if I don’t get the guitar that matches the drum set, even if I don’t learn how to play it.”
Buying a guitar was beneficial, was really for healing and purging. He didn’t know if it would work or not. He surmised that if it didn’t work that’s okay, but if it did, what would happen? It was an idea that started to grow and there was a reason it continued.
“I needed to focus on connecting with people. These were all problems that I had in the past that led me into substance abuse, that lifestyle. I think it was a lot about self confidence. I felt very out of place everywhere I went, never really developed. I never took the time to figure out who I am and develop that, which is why I decided to figure out something to do with my life that makes me happy,” he explains.
Sellers could look back on his life and recognize that he was unhappy for a long time. He figured, there were times when he was happy, so, was it possible to get back to that place? That was the catalyst for a return to creating music.
“It has taken my life in a direction that I thought; wouldn’t it be nice if my life was like that? It all has to do with trying to get out of bed in the morning and trying to connect with people, trying to be a loving person wherever I go? That’s difficult for me, that’s not natural. For twenty years of my adult life I really didn’t live that way. I lived as a scared person, scared of the world and other people, and success and failure and relationships and not having relationships. Just a very conflicted person.”
But he now owned an electric guitar and set about seeing whether he could write a song. He wrote one that ended up on Beatific Star. Some time passed and others taught him how to play chords. He bought simple recording equipment and found there was much to write about, emotions viable for songs.
“It started happening and I spent a lot of time doing it.” Listening to other artists helped him see possibilities in crafting music. Wilco had a lot of impact on him, how Jeff Tweedy put a song together, what was allowed and what was not allowed, what could be done in the middle of a song.
“It blew me away that you could have noise and nothing but feedback in the middle of a song and make it more beautiful than an E chord. Then I stared listening to this weird Miles Davis CD On the Corner.”
After learning two chords “on that thing,” referring to the guitar in which he wrote a song, having enough words to fill in all the verses and choruses. Knowing how to play the drums led to getting back into recording. Sellers attended engineering school so he knew how to record. The problem was that even though he once recorded bands, he’d never done so as a one man operation. But a fire was lit under him, creatively and spiritually. He recorded a five song demo, the only five songs he’d written. “I needed to record them and see how they sounded.”
At the same time he was trying to form a band in Roanoke but nothing came together like he wanted, not a single practice. Months went by and practices still weren’t happening. A friend needed help moving to Wilmington and once in town he looked up Gary Anderson. Sellers found a phone book and Anderson lived not far from the apartment Sellers would eventually move into. Anderson answered the door to find Sellers standing outside. Anderson was a father now, doing well. Sellers asked if he moved down would Gary like to start a band. Yes. Sellers said he’d be back in a month.
Sellers packed his things and moved down, setting big goals. In a year he promised himself that he’d have a full length CD. With only the five song demo he began to hammer away at the first full length. Upon nearly finishing that first CD and spending so much time practicing every day, he searched for other musicians. He went places people were hanging out, people he thought he might have something in common with. He was steadfast in looking. Sellers was reaching out to people, making contact. E-mailing.
He e-mailed me when Bootleg was Avenue. The e-mail was simple: “I moved down, I’m a musician.”
Everywhere Sellers went he did what he’d never done before. He asked. He met the people at the Independent Art Company by walking in the front door and saying, “I don’t know anyone in town, I play music, what are you guys doing in here?”
“I met a bunch of musicians at the Juggling Gypsy or did so walking up to musicians after a show at the Soapbox and introducing myself. A friend of mine is on the roller derby team and one of the girls she skates with, Missy, plays drums.”
He asked for her phone number.
“I called her and said I’m from Virginia, I played in a band in Virginia, I live here now and want to start a band. She said ‘I’m from Virginia, I played in a band in Virginia and I wanna play in a band.’
Two of the first people he met after moving to Wilmington were Rich and Shawna at Rebel Books. “I was shooting the shit with Rich one night and Rich said, “I’m a bass player, I’m from Virginia, and I want to be in a band.’
So it was three Virginians hanging out in Wilmington who played in bands with mutual friends, had passed each other on tours, playing in different places, all these bits and pieces in common. And soon they were sitting in Seller’s living room getting ready to make music. Missy, Gary, Rich and Sellers were now Revolution Summer.
The four would park stools in the middle of the room and sit and sing to each other. “I always think its great as its happening ‘cause I’m so happy to be doing it,” Sellers says. He recounts a story of people hanging out at the house, singing and playing. The next day a neighbor spoke to him, practically for the first time, saying “Ya’ll sounded real good last night.”
Sellers describes this as a ‘payoff’ for all the hard work in trying to create. The payoffs are far and few but hearing something like that, something earnest and simple, makes all the effort worth it.
Sellers’ songs for Revolution Summer were fairly simple, comprised of A,E,G, and D chords or just power chords. Rich was a quick study and Missy had played in bands and they all knew how songs were put together. Gary brought his lap steel guitar and added to the band’s sound. Missy and Stephen sang together and something clicked.
“The combination of the lap steel, the combination of the instruments or the simplicity of the songs,” he explains. It was something Sellers, for a long time, believed would happen – he just didn’t know how. And now it had. By meeting people and asking. That was a year ago.

Beatific Star was recorded in Sellers’ apartment on Castle Street. He did it all himself, playing, recording, completely DIY and homemade. The process can’t be anymore hand crafted, hand crafted like the beautiful tables in his home made from scraps of fine wood.
“The first song I wrote was ‘One Love’ off the first CD. Laura Spencer and Addie Wuensch sang on it. It’s nothing but A and E the whole time.”
The song is about the worst day Sellers ever experienced, the day the door slammed shut, in which all the ways out of trouble were used up. There was another charge and knew he would be going before a judge again. His lawyer told him to quit his job because the lawyer couldn’t save him this time.
“He told me I was going to jail.”
Stephen felt broken, depressed and lonely. Pulling all the curtains in the apartment, he locked the door. Hiding. He sat quietly with a fifth of bourbon and a refrigerator of booze. Some grass. Sitting alone in a dark apartment getting tanked. While it was happening he began to think about what a sad existence to live, to be so scared that someone will knock on the door.
“I’m in there with the only things that I trust to make me feel good,” He says, “and I just felt so defeated.”
‘One Love’ is about that day. The song sounds like it’s about a girl but it’s about booze. It’s about being locked away, about how obsessed he’d become, how trusting of substances much in the way a husband might confide in his wife. Writing the song was in part cathartic. It seemed to feel good to write the song so that now he can be honest about it, can tell people about it. To feel naked and be more comfortable. And he tried another song about a past relationship to see if he could feel better about it as well. And it did. This led to thinking about specific things, markers in his life that encompassed a life falling towards substance abuse.
Take the first song on Beatific Star, ‘Page 91,’ about an eighteen year old Sellers starting to discover drinking and grass, being able to do whatever he wanted to do when he wanted to do it in the first year of college.
“I discovered that this stuff temporarily solves all my problems. If I’m worried about something alcohol makes that go away. Grass seems to make that go away. This stuff is kind of a solution. ‘Page 91’ is about being 18 and the entire CD runs up until ‘Away to the Sun’ about coming out on the other side, of finding a way to be happy.”
Addie and Sellers worked opposite shifts at A Little Bit Hippy at the Cotton Exchange. He worked when Addie didn’t, never really meeting. Addie came in to work for a check one day and they finally spoke. The conversation was about art and the jewelry she made. Music came up and Addie mentioned that she and her friend Laura hang out and harmonize together. Stephen invited them over to his apartment.
On a Wednesday about five o’clock Beatific Star was given additional flavor. Until then he wrote and played all the parts, the only person involved in everything. That Wednesday was the first time he heard anyone else interject in his music. Addie and Laura came up with a harmony on ‘One Love’ and it was a revelation.
“I didn’t know that anything I wrote could sound like that,” he says. “On that CD the vocals are very tentative; there are some moments where it sounds like I’m sneaking up to the microphone and trying to figure what’s gonna come out of my mouth when I take a breath. That got a little better on Getting Born. But when I heard them sing, they sounded like angels or something. So beautiful.”
After the Beatific Star album was finished - cases, inserts and the discs all made at his apartment, Sellers felt there was more to do.
“I’ve had more. I’m not done. I still have a bunch of songs ready to start.”
That next project was Getting Born. He loved the way Laura and Addie sounded, the way their voices harmonized together. He offered it to them to work on. Addie had recently moved back from New York and jumped on it. They sat in Stephen’s living room and hammered away at Getting Born, both of them adding a song each to the album. “The whole thing came together in less than eight weeks.”
They were all interested in playing the material out live, doing so last winter at Bottega to a full room, playing the songs sparsely, with just vocals, acoustic guitar and tambourine. It was a throwback to how people may have played in the sixties or during the early thirties, acoustic and heavy singing. By then, Sellers had two full lengths completed, a band and the upcoming project with old friend Pat Starkey, Aardvark.

Aardvark was born out of the RPM (Record Production Month) Challenge. It’s a contest put on by two guys in New England, an open ended contest encouraging people to get involved in the artistic process, to create an album of music during the 28 days of February. The only rules are that, you’re on the honor system, that it all be recorded in the month of February. In part, it’s to get people that have been hanging onto songs and not doing anything with them or half completed projects, to make an album of music. Artists can use older material but they encourage people to do a project from square one, beginning to end, in those 28 days.
A third of Aardvark was recorded in Virginia in Pat Starkey’s basement. Sellers made the trip with different ideas about what the album would be. Nothing was written until the pair got together.
“I thought he had a bunch of music ready to record and was counting on me to record about twenty minutes worth of stuff and then go up there and record his stuff and then pile it all together onto one CD.”
Sellers thought they were going to start making noises and turn them into songs. He returned with pretty basic guitar and drum tracks. “It was a scramble and that’s why there’s some filler on that thing.”
Starkey and Sellers reconnected years ago after both of their lives had been in a tail spin. Sellers was living in Connecticut and getting out of prison. He returned to Virginia and heard a rumor that Starkey cleaned up seven years ago and was doing well, having a good life.
“So I looked him up and asked for help. That’s how we reconnected and he helped me start the process of getting clean. Then there we are four years later in a basement playing music again, both clean. That was the amazing part of that process, that me and this guy that had played music in Virginia, we’re back together in his house recording this project and I wrote some lyrics around that experience. But it lit a fire under Pat because after I left he called me two days later saying he ordered microphones, a 16-track, a keyboard, and musical equipment. The whole process, Pat wanted to keep doing it.”

The members of Revolution Summer have been going in different directions lately. Missy is working on another movie, Rich and Shawna are moving back to Los Angeles and trying to sell their house. Everyone wants to get together.
Sellers likes to stay busy, he likes to and probably needs to. But is it potentially harmful to take so much on? He doesn’t necessarily think so.
“I have a tendency to take on too much stuff. I also have a tendency to underestimate myself. I’ve wrestled with it all of my life. It’s back to not having enough confidence in my own abilities. I’m at a point where I’m willing to take on a lot of responsibilities. Sometimes it’ll be three o’clock in the morning and I’ve been up 24 hours and I’ll have three more days of stuff I’ve got mapped out to do, obligated, or want to do. I’ll think, I’m doing it again, I have too much to do, but to this point I’ve managed to get all that stuff accomplished. I think in some cases I underestimate what I can do but then a lot of people do. It just depends on where your passions are, where your heart lies. People who take on artistic endeavors, people who have a deep need to create, and are uncomfortable when they’re not creating are willing to make almost any kind of sacrifice to do that kind of stuff. What I’m finding out is that this is the stuff that makes this a cool and happy process for me. I can get wrapped up into my ego but the thing that really makes me happy is that I’ve connected with friends and what happens when all of us get together.”
Sellers sits atop an old stool in his living room, the sun setting casually and air moving coolly through the open front door. He sits up straight, eyes always seeming to be somewhere else yet focused on the moment. I wonder if he is merely looking out the window or at the house across the street he may help paint this summer. Or maybe, he’s just thinking of a new song idea. I think Sellers has been doing the same thing in the last several years, constructing songs as he reconstructed his life. I know when he gets inspired he knows to put on a pot of coffee. It’s a tremendous feeling, no substance can give you that type of energy. The best drug is creating; the need to do something that inspires you. It has to be synonymous with peacefulness and a stilted calm.
“I’m already in a place I never thought I’d ever be anyway. So for all those things to happen...everything else is like icing. It feels like I have this awesome cake and everything else that happens is extra.”

The last Saturday in April I walked along Front Street to a friend’s apartment to attend a birthday party. Crossing Chestnut Street, I saw someone standing just outside Bottega in a bright white dress shirt. It looked angelic, glowing as if the contrast were turned way up loudly. The shirt burned bright on the sidewalk against black trousers.
There were a number of people outside and I realized it was Stephen Sellers. He was talking to a woman. We talked a few moments and he was smiling ear to ear, looking incredibly happy. He had just finished playing a set of music minutes before. A homeless man was approaching everyone asking for change or something. Sellers and I were talking about few things for this story, a few clarifications. The homeless man approached Sellers, interrupting our conversation. Sellers stopped momentarily and turned to the homeless man and said he’d speak with him in a just a moment.
From the outside it seems like what anyone would do, maybe to blow someone off. Sellers turned his attention back to me and we spoke a little longer. I said I’d call him the next day.
As I walked away Sellers turned and spoke to the man, saying, hello, how are you, man?

For more, check out:

Myspace.com/revolutionseason
Myspace.com/giantmediamusic
Myspace.com/gm2music
Myspace.com/lowvictorecho
www.rpmchallenge.com

CLEANWATER CLASSIC SURF CONTEST NOV 2007

2008-01-29T12:13:00.000-05:00

INTERVIEW: MIKE SOZNOWSKI

2008-01-29T12:07:00.000-05:00

from BOOTLEG MAGAZINE Oct 2007

BOOTLEG: After twenty years as a working artist, what do you see as the most significant change in the form? Has technology had major impact on creativity or quickened the process?

Mike Sosnowski: Animation has been my main bread winner since I graduated from art school. Styles of animation have changed primarily by the way that it’s done. Computers have been the biggest change. They help to speed up the process and make it more cost effective. They help to expand the range of possibilities. As far as creativity goes, machines don’t make you more creative. They’re just a tool. Creativity still is in the hands of the guy pressing the buttons.

BOOTLEG: Many of your pieces are humorous and ghastly, like Tex Avery doing Forrest J. Ackerman’s wildest dreams. Does inspiration come from fifties horror and Sci-Fi?

M.S.: Most definitely. I would say that the majority of my inspiration has come from sixties popular culture. “Shock Theatre” came to television. That brought the Universal Monsters into everyone’s home. The baby boomers just ate that stuff up. That was the start of the “monster craze”. It spawned a slew of merchandising like Famous Monsters magazine and all kinds of comics, toys and trading cards, ect.

BOOTLEG: As a working environment, was working for television or film more conductive to creativity?

M.S.: It depends a lot on the project. I do storyboards, which is a very creative step in doing a film. I visually interpret the script by composing the scenes and acting out the characters. Some projects have been more fun than others. The most fun I ever had was doing visual development and a final color animatic for a horror anthology promo at Warner Bros. It was basically scary stories for little kids complete with a host that was sort of a Rod Serling/Alfred Hitchcock type. I was working with the producer/director/writer: Bill Kopp who was the creator of Eek the Cat and the Shnookums and Meat Funny Cartoon Show. We met at Dreamworks T.V. Animation and I worked on Toonsylvania with him there. Then later on Mad Jack the Pirate for FoxKids.

BOOTLEG: Are directors more open to ideas on a film versus television given that television may
have a tighter production schedule?

M.S.: I think most directors are always open to ideas. But with film there seems to be considerably more time to play with things. T.V. tends to be just get it done as soon as possible.

BOOTLEG: Were classes at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, or anywhere you learned, focused on shaping and encouraging the individual artist’s style?

M.S.: The Art Institute was good for the basics. I was a visual communications major. Their curriculum was geared toward commercial art, specifically advertising. The majority of what I know about working in animation was learned on the job. Through trial and error and studying other peoples work.

BOOTLEG: Is there a piece of literature or modern novel you’ve read that you’d find it a challenge to bring to life artistically? Has a piece of art inspired one of yours?

M.S.: Actually, I’ve got a painting in the works right now that was inspired by one of my all time favorite authors: H.P. Lovecraft. He wrote a story called ‘Pickman’s Model.’ It’s about an artist that paints pictures of monsters. At one point in the story one of the main characters is describing one of the paintings. It’s of a witch being hung on gallows hill while several dog-like creatures huddle around her baying into the night mourning her passing. I first read that when I was about thirteen or fourteen and it always stuck with me as being really cool. The idea of these monsters sad that their mentor had been hung presumably by angry villagers intrigued me.

BOOTLEG: What are some of the artists that you’ve enjoyed over the years?

M.S.: That’s a pretty substantial list. First off I’m influenced by a lot of comic book artists. Creepy and Eerie were my bibles. Especially the first dozen or so of each. They had a lot of the original EC artists that worked on the Tales from the Crypt and Weird Science comics. Jack Davis, Al Williamson, Wally Wood and Frank Frazetta were guys I would constantly go to for inspiration. Then in the later years of the magazines came Richard Corbin and Berni Wrightson. Jack Kirby was the reason I picked up a pencil in the first place. Others of note are Vaughn Bode, Dr. Seuss, Gahan Wilson, and more recently Mike Mignola and Humberto Ramos. I loved the painted covers of the Gold Key comic Turok Son of Stone. The prime inspiration for my monster paintings is the box art done by James Bama for the Aurora monster model kits of the early sixties. They were absolutely beautiful. A lot of magazine illustrators from the early part of the 20th century like Norman Rockwell, J.C. Leyendecker, Haddon Sundblom and Andrew Loomis. More recent painters are Mark Ryden, XNO, Todd Schorr and Dave Cooper. Also the three dimensional work of Yasushi Nirasawa, Takayuki Takeya and Tony McVey.

BOOTLEG: “Shock Showdown” is reminiscent of This Island Earth while some pieces reveal a fondness for the Universal Monsters. “The Culprit” recalls the accidental playfulness of Michigan J. Frog. Where does your interest in horror and Sci-Fi originate?

M.S.: Being a kid in the late fifties and sixties. T.V. was my first drug and god, the vehicle for monsters and cartoons to enter my life. The original black and white Frankenstein with Boris Karloff was probably the first monster movie I had ever seen. I was profoundly affected by it. I wanted to be a mad scientist. I found the idea of locking oneself away to obsessively work on something that passionately, very inspiring. Dr. Frankenstein appeared to be enlightened or ultra alive to the point where his brain could barely handle it. It was like he was high. He was experiencing something that took him to another reality. He was so focused on what he was doing that the outside world really didn’t seem to matter.

BOOTLEG: What advice do you impart on young artists today?

M.S.: Go with your guts. Turn of the T.V., radio and computer and listen to your insides. Be sensitive to the things that make you feel the most alive. You can only go where your demons drive you.

BOOTLEG: Your work is playful, colorful and wonderfully grim. How did that go as far as a resume, for Disney and children’s television animation?

M.S.: The only studio that really saw that side of me was when I graduated from art school and submitted my portfolio to Ralph Bakshi. It was mostly a hybrid of illustration and cartooning with a lot of monsters and dark themes. I had originally planned on getting into illustration until I got a call from a friend of mind that graduated before I did and moved to California to get into animation. He said that he was drawing Aquaman. I thought that sounded pretty cool so I came out to Hollywood and got into Hanna Barbara’s night class. They were the studio famous for doing The Flintstones and Scooby Doo. There I learned how to do in-betweens which are drawings that go in-between the key drawings an animator does to fill out an action. I got the job at Bakshi’s and worked on the original animated version of Lord of the Rings. From there I went into T.V. animation and worked my way up to storyboard. The only work I show to the studios now is stuff that I have done in animation.

BOOTLEG: Do you like to work on projects that have a message to get across (Ferngully, Land Before Time) or are you more interested in the challenge of the project?

M.S.: It’s nice when an interesting project comes along or something I feel I could have fun with. But that’s not always the case. Sometimes you just have to pay the bills.

BOOTLEG: Most animated films today are produced completely with computer animation save for the recent 2D looking Curious George while much of television animation is a mix of traditional and new technology. Do you think this change has hurt the final result or merely changed it?

M.S.: 3-D CGI has added a reality to animation that 2-D has been trying to do for years. Gradation of shadow on form and cast shadow just bring you more into the world. It reminds me of the old View Master toy. Where they would take models and photograph them in miniature sets that you would look at using a slide projector. It was so cool to see these 2-D cartoon characters in 3-D. Like they were real. I love that about 3-D CGI. That being said, I have had a problem with the cold sterile feeling of it. It’s kind of the way I used to look at airbrush. It’s mechanical. I particularly don’t like the way it’s being used in illustration. It’s basically an airbrush with a memory. I see a lot of drawings scanned and colored in Photoshop. Sure it gets the job done but so what. I just find it unattractive.

BOOTLEG: Regarding film, you graduated college the year Star Wars was released. What impact did it have on artist such as you, creatively and professionally?

M.S.: The period of the late seventies really opened the doors to what’s popular today. The success of films like Star Wars, Close Encounters and Alien basically took what was originally considered in the past a “B” type of a film and gave it a big budget. Look at the huge budgets of Spiderman and Lord of the Rings. Film studios realize now that there is an enormous market for fantasy, sci-fi and horror. The opportunities for artists increased just because the market opened up.

BOOTLEG: When working on a painting has the idea fully materialized for you or does it continue to change as you work?

M.S.: Sometimes I’ll get an image. I’ll actually see the painting already done. A lot of the paintings come out of nowhere. Just pop into my head. Like they were bubbling around in my subconscious and suddenly came to the top. Other times I’ll get a fragment of an idea or a title and have to work at having it come together. I’m always open to change when I’m working on a piece. Thinking, am I getting the story across? Does it read? Are the values right? I work in stages so things inevitably change as time goes on.

BOOTLEG: Creatively, do you still surprise yourself? Do you still get that little shock, that excitement at what you’ve done creatively?

M.S.: It’s interesting how some of the stuff develops. I’ll be thinking of one thing and that will lead me to something else and in turn will spark off another train of thought. So sometimes I’m surprised where my mind will take me.

BOOTLEG: Your art is very rock and roll. Do you listen to music while you work?

M.S.: I love music. The majority of my tastes are in some type of rock. My collection includes 50’s, 60’s 70’s 80’s, 90’s and some of the current alternative stuff. Gothic, Dark Ambient, early heavy metal, pop, glitter, punk, post punk, electro pop, old pop vocal, and movie soundtracks. Among other things, stuff from the 30’s and 40’s big band jazz. The first album I ever bought was 2001: a space odyssey the movie soundtrack. Next I bought nothing but Beatles albums for a couple of years. Then I saw Sparks on American Bandstand. This was early seventies way before they became popular on MTV in the eighties. The unique thing about Sparks was their sense of humor. That was a big turning point for me and really influenced my take on things.

www.sozstudios.com
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BOONDOCKS PRODUCER CARL E. JONES

2008-01-29T11:55:00.000-05:00

from Silent City Magazine Jan 2008

This October, The Boondocks, returns for a second season on Cartoon Network. The animated show, based on the national comic strip created by Aaron McGruder, was the highest rated premiere in the network’s history. It was nominated for both Image and NAACP awards and last April won a Peabody Award for the episode ‘Return of the King’ in which Martin Luther King, Jr. awakes to today’s culture.
Most animated shows endure a lengthy production schedule and The Boondocks is no exception. The work involved was so much that McGruder asked Carl Jones to illustrate the strip while he focused on the show. Eventually the comic strip was put on hold to focus entirely on the producing the series.
First developed at Fox, the deal never happened and the show found interest at Cartoon Network where fifteen episodes were produced. The Boondocks focuses on Huey and Riley Freeman who move from the south side of Chicago to live with their granddad, Robert or ‘Pops’ in the quiet suburbia of Woodcrest, Maryland.
The show premiered in November 2005, and after much critical and commercial success and a little controversy, the show is poised to shake up the neighborhood again. We spoke with Carl Jones, who illustrated the comic strip and went on to serve as producer for television series.

I awake Carl Jones at nine in the morning this summer. He sounds groggy and says he’ll call me back in about an hour. It’s nine a.m. in Los Angeles and he’s spent a late night working on the show. He calls back an hour later and the sound of city life permeates our conversation. Jones’ voice is deep and occasionally punctuates sentences with ‘man.’ He’s laid back and affable, and although I won’t reveal his age, he carries on like an adult who still has a sense of wonder about him. He retains the surprise of experiencing Chuck Jones’ Road Runner cartoons or seeing Star Wars as a kid.
He’s a father and is getting to do what he loves, produce cartoons for a living. His father was in the military and Jones was born in Germany, living there only a year. Back in the states his father worked several jobs.
“He was a jack of all trades. Always had a hustle, some type of sales job – insurance, car alarms,” Carl recalls.
Carl points directly to his father for encouraging art, not only because he drew as well but because he’d bring a pack of paper home from work and hand to it to his young son.
“I’ve been drawing as long as I could hold a pencil,” he says. “I would go through the stack of paper when he was gone. I always thought it was a goal to go though all the paper before he got home the next night. I would go through all the paper and he’d say ‘you need to turn it over and use the other side’ before I bring you anymore paper home.”
Carl went through the paper his father brought home. Somehow that translated to a habit he still has. Like many artists, he draws something when a blank piece of paper, napkin – whatever, happens to be in front of him, tending to fill up the whole page.
“I sketch a lot. I can’t help it. It’s a part of me. It’s almost habitual. I was a kid who got in trouble for drawing on walls, the hallway. That was me, crayon, whatever. I don’t know, there’s something about a blank wall, anything that was large and blank felt like a canvas to me.”
In time, comics came along, emulating what he saw in favorites Master of Kung Fu, Silver Surfer, and X-men and then television shows like The Hulk and Wonder Woman.
He cites Star Wars as a catalyst for opening up his imagination, what the possibilities were.
“When I saw it the first time it changed my life. Just seeing that scale of ingenuity and imagination, it just blew me away. I liked the idea that you do it on the big screen and have people look at it. It fueled my creative energy.”
Television also offered up animated shorts by Chuck Jones, famous for Bugs Bunny and Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. Carl cites Chuck Jones as his biggest influence.
“I just loved to watch the energy in the drawings and the animation itself was incredible but the design element, the way he would approach things,” Carl says. “And Tex Avery, that stuff was really fun to me.”
He attended high school in Fayetteville, North Carolina and moved to Philadelphia afterwards where his mother was from. Not long after he lived in High point where his wife’s from High Point before moving to Los Angeles.
“On the east coast I was doing freelance work, storyboard work. I was interested in a project with one of the The Play Pen producers at Warner Brothers, doing promotional animated shorts for the movie House of Wax.”
Freelance jobs weren’t enough to take care of responsibilities. There weren’t many jobs, mostly factory work, but there wasn’t a whole lot of money.
“I think I get from my father, I’ve always had a hustling talent. In Philly I had three tables of CD’s, movies, toys, socks, jewelry, whatever. I would set up right in front of the Gallery Mall on 11th and Market and work down there and make my own money, work for myself. I always had that in me.”
Instead of doing freelance work from North Carolina he knew he should relocate to Los Angeles. So, he and the family moved west.
Carl met The Boondocks creator Aaron McGruder walking down the street.
“I always admired his work and loved the strip. I talked to him for a second and we exchanged information.”
At the time McGruder was working on The Boondocks pilot and Carl was in the process helping develop The Play Pen with Roc-A-Fella films, Beanie Siegel and State Property. The two stayed in touch and McGruder told him about meeting deadlines for the cartoon and working on the show at the same time.
McGruder hired Carl to help draw the strip in the style McGruder originated.
“Basically Aaron wanted the style to be consistent. It took a little while for me to get it. Of course some of my own stuff was going to come through but I tried my best to stick with the way he did it.”
The Boondocks animated show was supposed to be picked up by Fox but was not. Time went by where McGruder was till trying to sell the show and Cartoon Network/Adult Swim came along and picked up the show. The amount of work became overwhelming and they stopped working on the strip to concentrate on the television show.
“We’re looking at ways to bring the strip back,’ Carl says, not wanting to give too much away. “The strip was cancelled because we couldn’t do the strip and the show at the same time.” But he’s optimistic citing the different outlets to bring the strip back.

There were two studios in Korea that were used for the first season’s animation duties. Producing an animated is not the same as producing a normal sitcom. There’s no sets to be used on a regular basis. Each episode of an animated show ahs to be created almost from the beginning, drawn and redrawn.
Culture issues or not, the show ran into a few issues. Overseas studios handled storyboard work and when they got the animation got back a lot had to be redone. There needed to be so much revision the crew had to re-board a lot of the shows from scratch.
“In some of the stuff we do on the show there are so many subtleties. It’s like a subculture within a culture. So if you don’t completely understand that, it’s hard to get the acting right, get the jokes right - you don’t understand the joke or the timing. We have translators for the script. That’s one layer. The next layer is getting into the type of humor we’re doing.”
He explains that during the first season, McGruder went to Korea and the animators asked him why the character Huey never smiles. McGruder was trying to explain and was unable to get the idea across until he mentioned Malcolm X. Then they got it, then they understood it.
“Little things like that, bridges we have to cross. We spend a lot of time communicating so it gets done the right way.”
The production is always looking for ways to make the show look better. With the source material, the original carton series, there was always a Japanese anime influence. But given that the strip was experienced and produced in such a small space, limited space, the television show can now increase the amount of details within the show by placing the characters in neighborhoods, other people’s homes, courtrooms with R. Kelly, etc..
“Aaron always had a thing for anime, to bring anime culture and urban or black humor together. It’s something that’s never been done before,” Carl says. “You know in anime, the story’s so bad you want to turn the sound down and watch the action. You never saw an anime show that told jokes. I love anime, in terms of stories they’re hard to relate to. There’s things we love about anime and things we love about comedy. Aaron wanted to bring them together.”
The first season Carl was involved more with writing, more so than the second season because the production side was much more demanding. We have a small writing group, we sit around and think about a story and Aaron would go off and write it. Rodney Barnes who writes a lot of stuff too. It was a small group of people, Aaron would write it and bring it back and we’d all punch it up.
The production rolled from season one directly into season two. After season one was finished everyone celebrated one day and then the next day it was back to work.
“We didn’t have time to break and regroup, man.”
Season two was slated to begin airing in July but was pushed back till October.
“We went over our schedule a little bit. Adult Swim wanted twenty shows, which is typical and we settled for fifteen. I know why we didn’t do twenty the second season, which was, we realized how difficult it was to get fifteen out. It’s difficult to twenty episodes, just production wise.”
But some of the delay may have come from self imposed pressure and further attention to the look of the show. With the new season there’s a higher scene count and extra characters so the task requires more designers, more backgrounds in the episodes which means more drawing, more painters and designers. Needless to say, a lot of work goes into every show.
“After a completing a season, I want to say yes!” Carl says with obvious enthusiasm. “Once it’s done you really feel good all the work you put into it. The extra work actually shows.”
Producing the show has a long list of duties. Carl oversees most aspects of production. From time to time he will get in and do storyboard revisions or character designs. In summation, his job is to make sure everything is working towards McGruder’s vision, that everyone is communicating what was on the script page visually. This also includes the voice directing.
“We have a very talented voice director, Andrea Romano. She’s been around a long time so she’s really good at what she does. Like I said the type of comedy we’re doing is so specific and the characters we’re doing – you have to know who these characters are to really know how the line should be read and how the jokes should be played. I have to be there to make sure all those things come together. I have to make sure the style of the show looks like traditional anime. We all work together as a team.”
The second season also introduces new characters; some that Carl thinks will help The Boondocks have a breakout season, taking the show to the next level. Returning are Regina King (Huey and Riley) and Johnny Witherspoon (Pops) as well as Mos Def, Sam Jackson and Charlie Murphy. New actors to the show include Lil’ Wayne, Cee-Lo, Busta Rhymes and Snoop Dogg and Fred Willard.
“It’s crazy, man,” he says with a deep chuckle.
I ask him about working with Johnny Witherspoon. There’s a brief pause in the conversation. There’s traffic in the background.
“What’s it like working for Johnny Witherspoon? Oh, man, he’s hilarious. Witherspoon is one of the funniest guys I know,” Carl says and then pauses again briefly. “He’s really that guy, he’s really Pops, he’s really the guy you see on TV. You feel like you’re in sitcom just being around John. I love John, I love him the death.”

Carl will be heard on the show this season voicing the character Thugnificent. It’s something he always wanted to do, voice over for a character. He performed incidental characters in the first season, now performing a central character poses a big opportunity.
“I play this character named Thugnificent who has a crew which is made up of Snoop, Busta Rhymes and me. We move across the street from the Freeman’s and turn the neighborhood upside down and granddad is pissed off about it. That was fun, man.”
After hearing his performance the first time all he could think about was wanting to do it over. He said it felt like an out of body experience.
It was a weird feeling. What’s crazy about it I’m there. I’ve sent that the show is made from ink and paint and pencils but when you see it on the screen sometimes you forget all that. It comes to life and you actually see these people as real people. It’s strange. I’m there when they record their voices. You get so consumed by the show and the story they’re telling, you look at these people as real people. Like, Riley and Huey are real people. I know if you print that it’s going to make sound really crazy. But seriously, that’s the magic of animation.”

BINDLESTIFF FAMILY CIRCUS

2008-01-29T11:44:00.001-05:00

from Bootleg Magazine Oct 2007

Most think of entertainment as what’s delivered on the television or flickers on the silver screen. In time the appreciation for, and attention to, performance art has slipped away. There is no comparison to the experience of viewing anything performed live – be it the theatre, a musician, a comedian or perhaps the most colorful of all performing arts, a touring circus.
The ones with animals are fine but long ago acts would make their way across the United States performing in small towns, entertaining people far and wide, bringing showmanship and the mystery of their performance to wide eyed ordinary people. The notion of bringing to life, in different places, a world that only exists in the hands and hearts of touring performers is a singular and special aspect to entertainment.
Last June The Bindlestiff Family Cirkus made such a stop in Wilmington, North Carolina at the Juggling Gypsy Cafe during their Summer Variety Show Tour. They set up in the parking lot and the audiences sat on lawn chairs and blankets awaiting the show to begin. As the sun slowly disappeared a clown, Kinko, entered into the arena quietly and sadly, reminiscent of Red Skelton. He patiently unrolled a sign that said: Will Clown For.
As he slowly unrolled it the sign revealed the words food…cash…sex…health insurance...scotch…joint…applause. There was much applause with each word revealed and that opening performing set the mood off, letting the audience they were in for a fun and slightly eccentric evening of entertainment under the early summer sky.
Kinko the Clown continued by making fantastic balloon creatures for people and taking part of someone’s tall boy beer. He moved about slowly, as if his bones and joints were too tight to bend even just a little. He was then joined on stage by Joel Baker, whose silent movie style of acrobatic comedy added levity and quirkiness to the performance. The evening would eventually give way to a variety of performances, juggling, sword swallowing, acrobatics, tight wire walking, fire eating, a reverse organist, rope spinning and a cracking bullwhip in addition to audience participation all hosted by Philomena.
The Bindlestiff Cirkus was founded by Keith Nelson (Kinko the Clown, Mr. Pennygraff) and Stephanie Monseu (Philomena) in 1995 in New York City. The two worked together at a late night diner on the Lower East Side. Stephanie learned that Keith was a fire eater and pushed him to show her in the alleyway outside the diner. Stephanie, who spent years as a jeweler, was no stranger to fire due to welding experience. It was during this time she was taking time off from that line of work due to a wrist injury. Within months they created a fire eating act together and the idea for a circus was not long in the making.
The name Bindlestiff is a long retired word from the Depression era. As slang, it was once used to name the migrant jobless, a group of people who were more well connected than the slang attempted to imply. The name seemed a solid fit for a group of traveling performers dedicated to variety acts, circus sideshow, vaudeville and burlesque. The number of Bindlestiff performers ranges from two to sixteen and as many as 300 have performed with the Cirkus over the last thirteen years, traveling Europe, the entire United States, the Caribbean, and Canada and large festivals such as Burning Man and the All Good Festival.
The Cirkus has been independent since its inception, doing their own booking, promotions, marketing and tour managing. Keith’s resume lists a number of self taught talents, from performing to graphic design to video editing.
“For the most part we do everything that is necessary to put on a circus spectacle,” Keith says. “Until this year, we also did our own driving. And when I say we, for the most part mean Stephanie and myself.”
In their thirteen year history there has only been a few Bindlestiff productions in which there was an outside director. Keith maintains that there is no other group doing the type of show they do today and has also consistently toured over the past decade.
“Mounting a tour is extremely hard work. In the final months before departure you have many sleepless nights. Most of the details are all being handled by two people, Stephanie and myself,” he says. “Beyond the actual booking of the show, travel, housing, food, and general economic issues are always battling us. The rising gas prices are hurting every traveling type of entertainment. Fewer folks have disposable income for entertainment.”
The Bindlestiff’s performed regularly in New York City but during the nineties Mayor Rudy Giuliani began his well known cleaning of the city. The ex mayor was shutting down underground theaters, sex clubs, cabarets and discos, in some cases using laws that remained in the books from the 20's.
“There were cases of venues being shut down because a couple people in the audience were moving to music. Some of the liveliest cabarets were shut down due to not correctly refrigerating beverages that were served. Theater spaces that were Squats were bull dozed. And the economic growth that he helped inspire simply made it so small independent theater spaces could not afford to survive.”
Circus, sideshow, burlesque have been considered illegitimate theater since they formed, due largely to the fact they were not deemed in league with Broadway, Shakespeare, traditional plays or dance. Bindlestiff is a combination of all of these and more.
“No single art form wanted to take credit for the spawning of the variety arts.”
So, they toured outside of their home base, finding they could get away with things in, say, Lincoln, Nebraska that they couldn’t in New York City. They could perform fire eating and some of the old erotic acts. Much of this had to do with the fact that the Cirkus would be out of town long after any word spread about the show.
“So by the time any authority had heard a rumor, we were already down the road.”
In years since Bindlestiff began in New York City, playing to crowds – private or otherwise, burlesque and clown performing has flourished.
“Many of the best performers in America were able to hone their chops with us. The freedom we allow a performer on stage allows them to take risks that few other shows will allow.”
From 2002 to 2004 the Bindlestiffs operated a vaudeville house in Times Square in association with chashama, a non-profit organization that assists artists and performing organizations. It was called Bindlestiff’s Palace of Variety and the Free Museum of Times Square on 42nd Street. There were eight performances a day at Times Square’s last Vaudeville house and dime museum. They loved the work, putting in long hours and doing push-ups between sets to maintain energy and stay awake. Keith recalls the history, the constant parade of humanity as memorable, and the fact that you can still make a dollar off someone wanting to seeing the bizarre, deformed fetuses in jars under the banner of ‘The Horrors of Drug Abuse.” But the influx of money and Disney changed the face of Times Square.
“We are not there any more because Bank of America tore down the building in order to put up a skyscraper.”

Keith Nelson was raised in Advance, North Carolina. At a young age he attended a mud show - a traveling circus that travels every day, setting up in grass or dirt lots. He saw then an interesting way to earn a living performing to the public.
“It simply took me over. Once the saw dust enters your blood stream there is no getting it out.”
While in school he performed in community theater and played tuba in the high school band. But the idea of performing began in 1989 in college where he learned juggling and fire eating. The majority of his skills are self taught. He spent two years studying at New York Goofs Ultimate Clown School and studied with a number of teachers including Avner the Eccentric.
Then there’s sword swallowing which took two years to learn, one of the sideshow skills that requires steadfast dedication.
“No one would teach me,” he says. Once he was able to do it Captain Don Leslie and a few other old timers gave him pointers. “Swallowing a sword is like juggling five balls, you must practice every day with months of failure before you ever get a taste of success.”
He mentions other sideshow performances such as the bed of nails (“If you can build a bed of nails, you can lay on it) and driving a spike into your head for the human blockhead (“it takes less than a month to learn”).
Such is life on a stage whether its ground level, surrounded by a proscenium or under a tent. Keith prefers to perform under a tent than onstage, it is touring with a circus tent that is more difficult than touring with a theater show.
“There is a magic that can be created when you can control the environment,” he says. “The silent clown can usually take you on a more emotional rollercoaster when they own their setting.”
But street theatre is where Keith cut his teeth performing, honing his skills. Working the streets and working burlesque audiences were the two best things to teach how to be a sharp performer on stage.
“There is no better teacher than the streets. The spontaneity of the street forces a performer to be on their toes. If you suck on the street, your audience walks away and you starve that day,” he says.
And audience participation is derived from that very setting and participation has always been part of the Bindlestiff show. Audience members are always eager to get involved and tit was no different last June, as three men saddled up to stage and set about performing for everyone. Their performance was to bend down and pick up a beer and drink it without using their hands.
“We are always up for the spontaneous nature that a live responsive audience allows.”
Keith’s life is a list of experiences that he’s built on. He walked from Texas to New York City in 1991 with a group called A Global Walk for A Livable World. The group did so to raise the environmental consciousness in America.
“A couple days after we completed the walk, the first War in the Gulf started”
He’s performed with jazz musician Ornette Coleman, Lou Reed, performed on the Today Show and Late Night with David Letterman and is a member of the International Jugglers Association, the Circus Historical Society and World Knife Throwers Guild.
And while the word vaudeville may be something many think of as old school, don’t refer to the Bindlestiffs as neo-vaudeville. Keith doesn’t like the word neo. He explains that they are the culmination of American variety entertainment, combining circus, sideshow, vaudeville, burlesque, and the Wild West.
“We have a strong connection with touring circuses and carnivals of the present and the past. Almost every individual that participates with Bindlestiff has invested many hours of research into the history of popular entertainment. We can walk onto almost any circus lot in America and be recognized. Our performers have worked with many different shows including Circus Zoppe, Ringling Bros., Cirque du Soleil, Big Apple Circus, and Broadway. Stephanie and I have both performed with traditional sideshows including Ward Hall and Chris Christ's World of Wonders and also the Brother Grimm Sideshow.”
Few performers involved with Bindlestiff leave the group permanently. Angelo Iodice, or AJ Silver, the rope spinner on tour has been working with Bindlestiff since 2000. Arielle Ebacher, the wire walker/aerialist, has been working with Bindlestiff on and off for two years.
“Our roster of acts covers the entire circus, sideshow, vaudeville, burlesque, cabaret spectrum. We have featured musicians of every type, novelty acts, daredevils, drag queens, performance artists, and even one or two singer/songwriters, especially if they are on a ukulele. We have had pyrotechnic clowns, burlesque queens, drag singers, knife throwers, dog acts, magicians, hand balance acts, trapeze artists, monologists, human blockheads, sword swallowers, cigar box manipulators, bubble artists, balloonatics, and Wild West acts.”
The Bindlestiff’s finished up their tour September 15th, arriving back home in New York at four in the morning. Keith slept for a few hours then awoke to attend Circus Amok's (another NY based alternative circus show whose founder lives in the same building as the Bindlestiff founders) final show in Thompkins Square Park.
“Their main focus in socially conscious performances in the parks of NYC that are free to the public,” he says. “Following the show I went to the 24 hour a day post office and then
went for drinks and dinner with some other clowns.
Bindlestiff is also involved in teaching people about performing arts for several year and involved in a summer camp program for kids. For the past four years they have produced Bindlestiff's Cavalcade of Youth, a mentoring type program in which young entertainers are paired up with professional circus coaches and culminates in a public showcase of young acts ranging from amateur to professional aged twenty years or younger.
“This summer we produced our first summer camp program. It was a two week intensive study of circus arts for ages 8 to 14. Thirty kids came to Snug Harbor Cultural Center in Staten Island every day for two weeks to learn to juggle, do acrobatics, walk a tight wire, stilt walk, and work together. At the end of the session the campers presented a show.”
With touring and teaching younger people the art of performing the Bindlestiff Family Cirkus is doing much to keep the tradition alive for many years to come.