My own personal Auction Madness

Me and JT Tannous at the 10x10 Exhibition

The spring semester has officially started!  Cute, fresh, students are running around with their notebooks clutched tight and their pencils sharpened.  They all ask me for directions to their classes.  I just want to pinch their cheeks, and remind them of their enthusiasm in 2-3 months, when they are frantic and stressed with finals.  But hey, that's months away!  Let's ride this tide of energy while we can!!

Last weekend I got to see adults get carried away with same kind of enthusiasm at the Flagstaff Cultural Partners' Member's Preview of the 10x10 Exhibition.  The exhibit contains 100 local artists who created over 150 pieces of a ten-inch by ten-inch piece of artwork to sell or start at auction for only $100.  The proceeds of the sale go to FCP.

The biggest excitement of the evening was that it was an AUCTION.  One of my favorite movie tropes (and indeed, real-life archetypes) is the auction-crazed bidder, who spends money he plainly doesn't have, and comes home to his wife with his hat in his hand and, for instance, a hot-blooded war horse that is supposed to learn how to plow the fields.

We all know of these stories.  Last year, I sat next to a couple at the Flagstaff Symphony Orchestra Gala, and the husband bid $500 on THE WRONG THING.  He realized his mistake as the closing of the auctioneer's chant, got white, sweaty and turned to his wife.  "I think I f*#@-ed up, but it's okay," he tried to reassure both her and himself, a non-golfer who had just bought a golf session at some fancy resort.

So I was perfectly aware of  this mistake, having watched a million movies and even seen it in real life.  I, myself, was particularly mad that night for a piece by Joe Cornett and Ben Shaffer called "The Vision."  There was no auctioneer chanting unintelligibly with the sole intention of creating a buying panic.  But, still, I was a woman on a mission, and lo to the hapless fool who tried to talk about unrelated matters.  I was clearly antisocial in my single-minded goal.  I sacrificed a few conversations for the cause.

However, my tenacity did win my auction, and I am now the happy owner of a vintage piece of technology/art.  "The Vision" is simplistically beautiful.  It's a hand-crafted wooden box with camera aperture that you can peek inside, to see an illuminated slide on the far wall.  I love it, because I think old technology is so romantic (pneumatic tubes, anyone?) and I love the smell of wood.  I also love art that involves the viewer.

You can go see my new piece, and bid on your own favorite art next weekend.  The public opening reception for the 10x10 Exhibition is Saturday, January 21, 2012 from 6 -8 p.m. at the Center.  And if you see me there, I'll be more likely to have a conversation with you!

A piece on display at 10x10 Exhibit.  "In the Tapeats at Oza Butte" ink drawing by Bruce Aiken. 

Erasable Color: Contemporary, Entrepreneurial, and just so darn sweet!

NAU's student ensemble, ERASABLE COLOR will play on Jan. 13 at Sundara 

  Some days I just absolutely adore my job, like the days when I get to meet students so excited and passionate about their futures that I want to help them in whatever way I can--because they deserve to accomplish their dreams.

  I spent a little time recently talking to the NAU student ensemble, ERASABLE COLOR, and got a complete buzz from their energy and enthusiasm for their art.  ERASABLE COLOR is a contemporary music quartet made up of Liza Stegall (saxophone); Drew Worden (percussion); Owen Davis (percussion); and Jess Ryan (piano).  They are all seniors at NAU, and pretty close to graduation.

They're busy--but they also decided to use this time at school to create a DIY business for their professional lives.  They started ERASABLE COLOR because they loved to play together, got along so well and had so much free time, that forming a new start-up was NO PROBLEM.  Most music students learn about theory, performance and composers in the classroom, and find that having a social life outside of practice hours is pretty near impossible.  But ERASABLE COLOR goes way beyond classroom learning.  They have formed a real business model that takes care of their own press kits, bookings, social media, website (www.erasablecolor.com) and managing their funds.

  All of this, on top of performing contemporary music of a most exciting caliber.

  ERASABLE COLOR is made up of classically trained musicians who share a passion for fresh, versatile music by 20th and 21st Century composers--"living, breathing music that's fresh on the page."  They have mad classical skills and apply them in crazy, avant-garde ways.  They aren't interested in playing in the pub scene, but they are interested in playing for a young audience.

  "Contemporary music is misunderstood," said Jess Ryan.  "We want to educate our audiences and create more recognition and appreciation for people that are alive and writing today." For instance, they will be performing a concert this Spring with music by composer John Cage (one of the leading figures of the post-war avant-garde musical movement,) and often commission works from their peers and colleagues.

The NAU School of Music director, Todd Sullivan calls them "an interesting model for new musical endeavors."  He went on to explain that entrepreneurship is the the new way to make a professional living in music, and ERASABLE COLOR is breaking ground and setting precedence for other student groups at NAU. 

 But not only is this group musically and entrepreneurially exciting, they are just so darn sweet!

"When we play music together, that brings us closer.  We can count on each other musically, we have each other's back.  We can also count on each other logistically," Jess explained.

And now you understand why I do so love my job.
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You can go hear ERASABLE COLOR play “Meaningless Patterns in Meaningful Noise” at Sundara Café and Boutique, located at 22 E Rt 66, on Friday, January 13^th, 2012 at 7:00 pm.

Tickets are $5 before the concert and $7 at the door. Contact erasablecolor.com or Sundara for purchasing information.

 

Cultural Calorie Count

Santey, does this guitar music make me look fat?

A few weeks ago, storyteller, folk singer and cowboy historian of the Southwest (and my favorite Santa Claus) Tony Norris asked me if culture is "hi-caloric."  It was just one of those questions that I adore, a real conversation starter.

Tony, I've been wrapping my head around it for a couple of weeks now.

Last week I went to my the Flagstaff Arts and Leadership Academy's (FALA) holiday dance and music performance to see my son perform in his ballroom dance group and jazz band.  It was the end of a really long, tiresome day.  I had been stamping out fires and my toes were singed.

But I got to the performance at 7 p.m., sat next to one of my best and oldest friends, and settled in for 3 hours of beautiful dancing and creative, talented musicians (it is, after all, an art school.)  Everything was pleasing to the eye, well-performed, and different.  It was one of those perfect foods--it tasted good, it was easily digestible, and it made me feel wonderful.  After the performance, my son looked like he had eaten spinach--he was wide-eyed and energetic.

I really started thinking about beauty and food.  For some reason, everything that makes me happy and is beautiful makes me say "yummy!"  If I see the cutest, chubbiest, happiest baby, I metaphorically want to take a bite out of her apple cheeks to show my appreciation. (Please understand, this is all in a good, loving way.)  My kitties, who are so cute, also make me say crazy things, like "I'm going to eat you up and serve you for breakfast."  When I saw the total lunar eclipse on Saturday, I wanted to devour the landscape, because it was so poignantly beautiful and meaningful in some way that I wanted to keep inside me, for a long time.  As an interesting aside, Hindus believed that a serpent or a demon was eating the sun or moon when they were eclipsed.

Why do we often use food and eating as a metaphor for things that have great meaning for us?!

A lot of people (mostly Italian) see something of beauty or taste something delicious, and make a similar gesture--putting their fingers to their mouths and noisily kissing them.  I think this gesture of bringing something intangible to your mouth and kissing it is a great way of showing appreciation.  Consumption of food makes us feel good, too, just like viewing and participating in art does.  It fills us.  It gives us nourishment.

I would say that the FALA performance was pretty nourishing too.  It made me feel a huge sense of connection, because the "food" was locally-grown and produced, and it was designed to fit the needs of the community that it fed.  It was pretty filling, and the calories were well-spent.  Everything was gourmet, high-energy, and satisfying.

And so, Tony, I have no idea if "culture" in general is high in calories, but I do know that it is essential to growth and development, just like good food.  When we see beauty, and it touches us, we want to integrate it into our cells.  We want to have it pervade our flesh.  We want it to infuse our spirit.

Living off Laughter

 

It's almost the end of the semester, and the end of the year.  People are burning the candle at both ends.  Everywhere I look, students, faculty and staff are red-eyed from lack of sleep.  Tempers are a little short.  Everything's due, all at once.

I think I can say with confidence that this time of year can be very stressful.

With all this stress, I think that the College of Arts and Letters Film Series made a very wise choice to screen "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" as the last film of the semester.  A very full audience packed the house last night at Cline Library.  We weren't there for a political, thoughtful, enlightening or educational movie.

We were there to laugh, gol-danggit!!

It was easy to laugh.  The character of Pee-Wee had simple goals and simple needs.  His wasn't a complicated, emotional character.  He had a quest--he needed to find his beloved bike. (I can totally identify with this.  It's the worst feeling in the world to have your bike stolen.)  He had an enemy--the one-dimensional rich kid brat, Francis.  He was never alone, even in his loneliest moments, and never at a loss for words, especially funny one-liners.

Best of all, he had a fireman's pole in his house.

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure also had some of my favorite movie tropes:  A breakfast-making machine line, a CLASSIC movie set chase scene, and, my favorite, a dance designed to be so absolutely funky and cool that the hero inexplicably wins over his worst enemies. (In Pee-Wee's case, it's a barful of bikers.  In Napoleon Dynamite's case, it's an auditorium full of high-schoolers.  In The Revenge of the Nerds, it's about beating the Alpha Betas.)  Warner Bros. even turns Pee-wee's life in a full-length film.  

People, this was pure comedy entertainment.  We were all just there to laugh at stuff again and lighten up.  It was pure movie pleasure, childish and immature, and all of a sudden the busy schedules and stressful classes didn't seem to matter so much.

Maybe you can't live on laughter alone, but it sure makes the rest of your life that much easier.

Nickel and Dimed Culture

  I don't talk much about lectures or philosophical discussions in this blog, but I fully endorse them as cultural events.  Your basic online dictionary defines culture as "The arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively."  This definition perfectly fits my own internal designation of "culture,"--what I want to experience  more of and examine my engagement with.

  I do regard thoughtful, smart presentations and discussions as proof of intellectual achievement, (and therefore a part of the collective of culture as a whole) and accordingly, I was very interested in the panel discussion for NAU Theatre's staging of "Nickel and Dimed" that was held on Nov. 17.

The play is based on the book, Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich. The story follows as the author takes minimum wage jobs, lives in hotels, and basically "tries to understand the hardships and financial difficulties of the working class in America."  Many at NAU remember reading the book 6-7 years ago as part of a one-campus/one-book type thing. 

  The panelists were chosen from various departments on campus and in the city, and included John Eastwood (Economics and Statistics, NAU);  David McIntire (Permanent Affordability Administrator, Housing Program, City of Flagstaff);  Jason Matteson (Dept. of Philosophy, NAU); and moderated by Constance DeVereaux, (Dept. of Humanities and coordinator of the Program in Arts and Cultural Management, NAU.)

  My friend and I liked the fact that they had a community member who works with low income housing present- especially since he could speak about living impoverished himself for a while.  I really liked the fact that one of the panelists was a single mom who practically raised her kids in the library while she was getting her PhD.  She talked about how being a mom is one of the biggest impacts on your earning potential.

  One of the most informative issues raised, however, was thinking about the ways in which we are institutionalized in poverty or in wealth.  For instance, my friend and I had an education and support from families.  We had a knowledge base of experience and parental wisdom, and general know-how that taught us how to make our clothes presentable for job interviews, pursue a degree to further our economic advantage, and invest our meager amounts of money in things that helped us get ahead.  We may be cash-poor, but we have resources.  A lot of people who are classified at the "extreme poverty" level don't know how to apply to college, get scholarships, or network.

  This whole conversation started me thinking about making culture more accessible in general.  This is a guess, but I would venture to say that a lot of people classified at the "extreme poverty" level are probably intimidated by "culture" and don't feel comfortable or welcome at art exhibits and museums,  classical music performances, or even a play.  Which probably means that many people that are affected by the issues of "Nickel and Dimed" won't be there to see it!  What a shame!  Art should be available to everyone--it's an essential part of the human experience.

  It's a vicious cycle and a huge cultural issue--and I am grateful that NAU Theatre is trying address the issue of poverty and bring attention to the problem.

"I hope that talking about what we can do as a community, dealing with working class issues, will bring better awareness to social issues of poverty that we're dealing with now," said Season Ellison, director of "Nickel and Dimed."

  By the way, there's still time to catch the play.  "Nickel and Dimed" will stage Nov. 30- Dec. 3 at 8 p.m. and Dec. 4 at 2 p.m. at the Studio Theatre.  (Call 928-523-5661 for tickets.)
 

Eternally Thankful for Beauty

Bruce Aiken and me, in front of one of my favorite pieces at "It's Elemental"--Ryan Lamfers: "A Feeling of Discontent."

It's Thanksgiving week.  What am I thankful for?  So many things...

I took a friend to the NAU Opera performance of "Albert Herring" last Saturday night.  I had an extra ticket, and put a call out on Facebook.  I was gratifyingly surprised that my friends were so responsive, and even had a little bit of competition over who got to go.  (I'm thankful that my peeps are cultured folk.)  Meghan and I went and had a taste of fine culture.  We agreed that it was long, and we are not conditioned to long stretches of entertainment (do we have cultural ADHD?) We also agreed that it was funny, the singers were fabulous (Emily Wells and Quentin Lee were especially excellent), and I was very thankful to experience the opera in its new space this year.  The Prochnow Auditorium is intimate and simple,  and had a classic beauty that enhanced what was onstage.  I'm grateful for the opportunity to experience challenging and enriching mediums such as opera.

I am also so happy and grateful for John "JT" Tannous of Flagstaff Cultural Partners for the energy and hard work he and his staff puts into making and maintaining a dynamic and thriving art scene in Flagstaff.  On Friday night I went to the Member's Preview of "It's Elemental."  It's always fun to go to art openings at the Cultural Center for the Arts and enjoy a consistently high-quality exhibit.  It's also a good place to see many of the most influential people in the arts in Flagstaff.

In my mind, one of those people is Bruce Aiken, an artist of international acclaim, best known for his Grand Canyon oil paintings.  Bruce is also a dedicated community member and advocate for the arts.  He has served on and led the City's Beautification and Public Arts Commission (BPAC) for 4-5 years, and has made tough, visionary decisions about how to spend money on artistic contributions that benefit the entire city.  He is fantastic role model for people young and old, because he cares about the arts and always encourages artists and creative individuals to recognize and develop their talents.

 I'm thankful and grateful for a job that literally requires me to stay connected with the art community.  I'm grateful for a community that gives me access to performances such as the NAU Opera production of "Albert Herring."  I'm grateful for friends who will go with me to all the concerts and experience it with an open heart and mind.  And I'm thankful for leaders who work hard to promote a vision of artistic excellence and who show us the way.

And finally, I'm thankful for beauty, and the ability to appreciate and treasure it.  It brings me infinite happiness.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Another of my favorite pieces at "It's Elemental" by Bob Fain.

Modern Communication Enhances Classical Music

Fifth House Ensemble--Nov. 14

 

Usually, I reserve Thursday-Saturday as my evenings to go out.  But there's something more intimate about a Monday night crowd.  It's like going to a film festival in a snowstorm, or getting last-minute directions to the evasive forest party.  If you go, you get the t-shirt.

That's how I felt last night when I went to the Horizons Concert Series performance of Fifth House Ensemble.  The crowd was small, but we were special.  We were watching something new, something bold--we were watching something develop before our eyes.  The Horizons Concert Series, organized by School of Music director Todd Sullivan, is meant to provide "mind-bending experiences that complement all else that happens in town, and make the musical opportunities and experiences deeper and wider."  The performance, "In Transit: #undercoverhero" was a musical exploration of "Tim," a young boy who experiences bullying.  His story included comic books, online chat rooms, Twitter, hashmarks and Mozart.  

My friends wavered between watching the narrative unfold on the screen to paying attention to the music.  It may have been a little distracting for musical purists--The music was at times a sound track; at other times it was the main character.  But the beauty of this performance was that Fifth House Ensemble (5HE) provided a world to step into.  Our everyday sensibilities of modern communications were engaged in ways that classical music doesn't usually do. For a young audience, In Transit transcended the classical music boundaries and engaged us in the performance, actually asking us to pull out our cell phones at the end of the evening! 

The finale was when we each texted and tweeted our own hopes and dreams for Tim.  The various texts from the audience were displayed on the screen as they arrived.  "I hope the meathead's bullying days are over."  "I hope Tim and the meathead become best friends for life!"  "I hope Fifth House comes back to Flagstaff."  (here's their Twitter page, to see more of the audience's remarks.)

The Horizons Concert Series can sometimes go under the radar because it's held on Monday nights.  Don't be fooled.  Sometimes the biggest things happen on the quietest evenings.

The next Horizons Concert Series will feature award-wining Elena Urioste, violin joining  Michael Brown, piano on Wed., Feb. 1, 7:30 p.m. at Ashurst Hall.

Individual tickets for the Horizons Concert Series are $20 for adults, $12.50 for seniors and NAU faculty and staff, free for NAU students with an ID and children. For tickets to all events, call 928-523-5661. For more information on the season, please visit nau.edu/music/horizons.