But is it ART?

I'm not really allowed to repeat what Laura said, but it made me laugh til I cried.

"A b**** is a female dog.  She's also a women who is crabby and won't let you be yourself."  
David Sedaris, Ardrey Auditorium  (4/27/12)


When I went to see "A Thousand Invisible Cords,"a movie about NAU Regents’ Biology Professor Tom Whitham and his work with an ecosystem community of cottonwood trees, aphids, streams,  wildlife, and other elements in nature, I wasn't thinking "This science is ART".

In the same way, when I went to see David Sedaris on Friday night, overhearing the lady next to me say "he is one SICK individual," I wasn't exactly thinking "This man's boundary-pushing stories about the foibles of humanity are LITERATURE."

Still, I'm starting to see the point of expanding my definitions of "art" and "literature." I guess I've been growing lately. 

As Dan Boone, producer and director of "A Thousand Invisible Cords" pointed out in his introduction to the film, he has always viewed art and science as the same thing.  They both take creativity to solve problems; they both use hard-earned tools of knowledge and skill to do it.

It's the same with writing.  While Sedaris may be a "sick individual", he is certainly creative.  He uses his creativity and humor to make life more pleasant, more tolerant of diversity and more accepting of different opinions.  In the instance of an annoying houseguest who was arrogantly throwing his French around, Sedaris seemed to exorcise the pain by writing about it.  (He also said that he "tries to write about people who aren't big readers.")  And as an audience member pointed out, he was always taking notes on what worked, and what didn't, fully utilizing his skills as a wordsmith, even while on-stage.  

Literature is written work considered of superior or lasting artistic merit, based on the perceived quality or value as works of art.  During the reading by Sedaris, I hit a point where I was laughing so hard, I snorted, and then started crying.  Considering that Sedaris is writing for humor, getting me to laugh that hard is probably a feather in his cap, a proof that his work has lasting merit.  (I think laughter is just as important to the understanding of the human condition as tears are, and maybe more so.)

In the same way, Tom Whitham started an experiment 30 years with cottonwood trees and the effects of aphids--and this experiment is still going!  He has shown that we are "genetically connected members of a rich community of interacting species....The world is bound together in more ways than most people thought possible" (see full article here.)  That certainly seems to be important to our understanding of the human condition.

While a lot of people can produce work that is creative, and certainly requires skill, I think that the pieces that stick with us are the ones that have meaning to our lives.  And finding out that we can relate to a different experience--that we are interconnected to all things, whether it be leaf litter or humorous ramblings by a middle-aged homosexual, I think it has value.  I think it's art.

Going Solo to the Theatre--Not so Bad!

This dress was hanging out in the lobby.

“The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before.”
― Albert Einstein

  This weekend, the weather was hitting record highs for beauty, Flagstaff bonhomie was spreading throughout the network of outdoor trails, and everyone was so happy spring was here that they just didn't want to go back inside for some classic comedic theatre.  So it was a hard sell to get someone to go to "Arsenic and Old Lace" with me on Saturday night.  I tried a few friends, but everyone was busy or otherwise engaged with nature--so I went alone.


  I see movies solo all the time.  I practically don't even want someone with me when I go to an art museum.  I was already going to speaking engagements by myself when I was in college, and I've even been to music concerts alone...But I've never been to the theatre by myself.

  A quick, informal survey of my friends provided proof enough that going to the theatre was something most people preferred to do as a shared experience.  Perhaps it's because you pay more for the ticket.  Or maybe it's because there's a story to figure out together, or you need someone to talk to at intermissions.

  Either way, I felt like I was breaking some kind of unspoken social rule, but I figured "I'm an independent woman who can do lots of things alone"--and besides, as soon as the lights go out, it's not like you need your friends there anyway.  I think I'm good company, I get my jokes--so why not go to a play with me? (This sounds kind of Sybil-esque, but I do often talk to myself this way...)

  So I took advantage of being alone, and followed all my whims of fancy.  I sat in a different seat for each act.  I arrived a few minutes late (which is so much easier when only one person has to slip in.)  I actually got to read the actor bio's, and struck up a conversation with Bob Yowell, the director of the play.  It was kind of fun not having to worry if another person was having fun!  Turns out, there really are not many moments that you feel "alone" during a play.  It wasn't a big deal at all.

  The other thing about going by yourself is that you are really going for the art.  I went to this play because I knew that one of my favorite NAU theatre students was graduating soon.  I was excited to see what I think may be Tony Latham's last performance--I had seen him as a freshman in a Commedia Dell 'arte piece, and he made my son laugh VERY LOUDLY in "Something Happened on the Way to The Forum."  I feel like I know him, and have watched him evolve as an actor.  The play was delightful, and I enjoyed myself very much.

After the play, I went grocery shopping, listening to my Ipod and danced up and down the aisles.  It was another minor social taboo that I was breaking, and I was happier for not caring.

Arsenic stage, with the infamous stairs in the background.

The Sacred in Little (Poetic) Things

Riding a bike is sacred.

"Poetry holds the knowledge that we are alive and that we know we're going to die.  The most mysterious aspect of being alive might be that — and poetry knows that."
Marie Howe  


"There is no there there."  
Gertrude Stein

I've gotten into some interesting conversations lately with friends about the "sacred".  I have always self-consciously defined sacred as "what really matters in life," measurable by death-bed wishes, or what-I-want-my-son-to-know.

My student assistant, Robyn, thinks of family bonds, love, and music as sacred things.  I agree with her.

But I also don't think that sacred has to be something BIG.  It can be the little things, the things that are mundane, everyday, but somehow special.

My friend, Darcy Falk, talked about it yesterday.  Darcy has a really special moment that she defines as sacred when she peels carrots.  She has been able to take this action, this peeling back of layers, and it reminds her of all the other times throughout her life that she has done the same movement.

She is able to stop, notice what she is doing in that precise moment, and it connects her to so many other times of carrot peeling, different meals, different kitchens... Usually she's listening to her husband play music.  So yes, it's a sacred thing.

For me, it's washing the dishes.  I love soaking my hands in the hot water, putting things right after a good meal, and putting my little kitchen into order.  It's mundane, it's boring, it's mine and I can do it, and it makes me really happy.

April is poetry month, and I also think that poetry makes things sacred.  Wait, scratch that.  I believe that poetry opens our eyes to the sacred.  Everything that we experience in this lifetime can be seen as important--as sacred.  The simpler, the better, because isn't our life made up of a string of simple things?  Why can't these moments in between the peak experiences be important to us as well?  Those extreme highs can sometimes exhaust me!

When new friends invited my son, Isaac, and me to join them for poetry night this weekend, I was excited to enter "moments of importance" with other people (and to have my son also experience that.)  One guy read a poem he wrote about hating his job.  The poor guy really hated his job.  

Isaac loved the story about The Dead Man's Hand, because it scared him- even though he's 15 and not supposed to be scared.  One woman read a poem about World War I, and while I can't remember a single line, I completely remember how she got choked up while reading it.  I will never forget her military sweater, her eyeglasses.

They were simple observations, these poems, some brilliantly worded, some not.  But still, somehow they were important to those who were gathered together.  WE were important to those who were gathered together.

In an interview, Marie Howe talks about the concept of "ordinary time" in the Catholic Church, times in which there was no "high holy season" where nothing apparently miraculous is happening--and yet miracles really are happening.  My definition of sacred is ever-evolving--but I think, like Howe, it may start to encompass the moments when I feel fully alive, times of ordinary time.  Times that I have sat still and noticed things, times that don't exhaust me but really replenish me, take nothing from me but give me everything.  That really sacred thing that is right here.

Flowers are sacred too.

Quintessential Flagstaff

Betsey Bruner in a rare appearance in front of the camera at the Recycled Art Exhibition.

I spent the weekend engaging in quintessential Flagstaff things; First, I went to the NAU Art Museum opening of Portland artist Sherrie Wolf, with her show, "Historyonics."  I do think it's a Flagstaff phenomena to be interested in all things Portland, and you MUST check out this show before it closes on June 2.  It represents WHY we are drawn to Portland artists.

So next, there was Artwalk (need I say more?)  And then I bought a bike (a piece of artwork in and of itself.)  But the most utterly Flagstaff thing I did was go to the most utterly Flagstaff show; The 10th Annual Recycled Art Exhibition.  

This show has been going on for a decade at the Coconino Center for the Arts and features art that is made from recycled materials. Their website says "Artists from all over Coconino County come together to promote recycling through this creative, fun and inspiring exhibition. It's one of Flagstaff's favorite exhibitions each year!"

Robin Cadigan, gallery director for the Coconino Center for the Arts talked to me about the show.

"I often hear from people that visit the gallery that they are not creative, and have no artistic bone in their body. But they are there, in the gallery looking at and appreciating art. There is something about recycled materials and found objects that seem to be accessible for people to create with, even if they don't consider themselves artists. There is a challenge in using discarded items and repurposing them," said Robin.

"The Recycled Art Exhibit seems to inspire people to work on a grand scale. We have several 5 foot pieces this year, more than ever before. This large scale work is exciting to install and engages viewers in a different way than a small work sitting on a pedestal."

I think the Recycled Art Exhibition captures a certain zeitgeist of Flagstaff aestheticism.  We are people who love our natural world.  We are also a creative, scrappy community--we work with what we've got.  To be able to create art out of something that promotes this is the epitome of our cultural representation. 

Recycled Art will be open through Saturday, May 12th, Tuesday- Saturday 11am-5pm. There are free workshops every Saturday at the Coconino Center for the Arts. 

happy faces.

Opera and Kids

This brave mom brought her entire school to the opera.

Opera is where a guy gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings.  ~Robert Benchley

  What a lovely thing it is to watch children enjoy something new.  I got to indulge my affections for the younger generation last week when I went to the NAU Opera school performance of Suor Angelica and Gianni Schicci at the Prochnow Auditorium last Thursday.  I was there with around 400 grade school and high school students.

  Nando Schellen, NAU opera director, has always believed in treating children equally and giving them the gift of opera at a young age.  It's never too early to learn the language of love! he seems to say.  So he has been providing free school performances to the students of Flagstaff, Sedona and the entirety of Northern Arizona for the 12 years that he has been here. "This is our future audience," said Schellen.

  I saw 2nd grade students from Haven Montessori skipping across the street while holding hands, wearing little ties, vests, and easter dresses.  They were excited.  I saw students from Sedona High School wearing high heels and prom dresses--and they were excited too!  "It's my first opera," said one girl.  She felt special, "sophisticated."

  Janelle Maycumber, a member of the Flagstaff Home School Network, brought her five sons--ranging from preschool to high school age--for the second year in a row.  "We attended last year and decided to come again," she said.  "It's a little taste of culture for my family."

  As the kids settled into their seats, the opera began.  It wasn't the quietest crowd; there was a baby clamoring, and sometimes I heard a wee bit of shuffling and whispering.  But at certain poignant parts, like when a good Sister would sing "Death is more beautiful than life," the hall was utterly still.  Because these kids got it.  They may not have had the patience for the entire opera, but they were completely open to accepting those moments when the beauty of drama shines through.

  And I enjoyed watching them enjoy it.

Lovely FALA students enjoying themselves.

  

 

Spring: Engage with it!

Spring Altar, created by Jan Michael Meade.

  It's spring, and all I want to do is be outside in our beautiful mountain town.  Like everyone else, I'm feeling the effects of the weather, and have more energy, more sass, and tons more time (since I'm getting up earlier with the sunshine!)
 
  It's been hard for me to make it to cultural events with all of this outside itching to be explored.  I'm waiting for some outdoor concerts--but I know that screening, playing and performing outside can produce some logistical nightmares for my artist friends.  The elements aren't so nice on instruments, paintings and film screens.  I do love my transcendental experiences at Ardrey Auditorium, Coconino Center for the Arts, and Cline Library Assembly Hall, and I appreciate the talent I see there, and understand why it's easier to be inside. 

  But you see, I've got Spring Fever, and bad!  I need to play a more active, engaged, participatory role in the arts right now.  I'm just brimming with feeling and it's not enough to listen, look or absorb.  I need to put something out there, or I just. may. burst.

  I've been joining my friend Meghan Callahan for her weekly women's music group on the NAU campus.  Meghan is a dear friend, and a talented musician.  She runs a music therapy business, Mountain Health Music and is the director of Flagstaff Threshold Choir, a women’s choir that sings in small groups at the bedside of those struggling with living or dying.  Meghan knows firsthand about music's ability to increase engagement, and provide an outlet for expression of feelings.  She uses it to quietly perform miracles every week.

  The other thing that Meghan does for me is make music accessible.  She told us in the music group that we are so used to watching virtuosity onstage, that we forget that music can be part of our daily lives.  Who cares if I'm any good?  I enjoy her drum circles because it makes me happy to find my rhythm and express it.  If that makes me a hippy again, then I guess I'm okay with it.  Kind of.

 Yesterday I joined the Flagstaff Drumming into the Seasons group as they welcomed spring.  This group is committed to "Fostering connection and celebrating the seasonal cycles through community drumming" and they have made their own Sacred Yellow Drum for that purpose.  Everyone is welcome to join in the music!  So I did, and helped create a little bit of rhythm, sang a little bit of verse, and expressed my love for spring and music at the same time. 

I'm playing the Sacred Yellow Drum (and loving it.)

  It was just what the Easter Bunny ordered!

Viola Awards: A Peak Experience

Nominee Jason Hasenbank and Mayor Sara Presler are no strangers to euphoria.

Peak experiences are described by Abraham Maslow as especially joyous and exciting moments in life, involving sudden feelings of intense happiness and well-being, wonder and awe, and possibly also involving an awareness of transcendental unity or knowledge of higher truth.  They usually come on suddenly and are often inspired by...intense feelings of love, or the exposure to great art or music.. 

Wikipedia-Peak experiences  

  Saturday night was the 4th Annual Viola Awards. 

  It was a pretty big deal.  There were about 500 people there.  (let me repeat:  almost FIVE HUNDRED people in Flagstaff bought tickets that cost $50 and up to attend an event that honors our local artists, musicians, scientists, and cultural leaders.)  There were 65 nominees for 11 categories.  (Congratulations to ALL of you!)  Over 68 silent auction items were donated and over six thousand dollars were raised to help support the Coconino Center for the Arts.

WOW.

 This year was also notable because the sciences were included in the awards ceremony.  The Flagstaff Festival of Science was the deserving winner of the Outstanding Event Award, and is a great example of creativity at work.  Both science and art are appreciative of beauty, and seek to capture, portray and understand it. 

  "The sciences play so well with the arts, especially here in Flagstaff.  They are such a huge part of the culture of our community, more so than you see in other communities," said John "JT" Tannous, executive director of the Flagstaff Cultural Partners.

 It truly was a Peak Experience for Flagstaff's cultural life.  People were buzzing around, high on euphoria, interconnectedness, community.  Psychologist Abraham Maslow could have been describing the party on Saturday night when he talked about "transpersonal experiences."

  "We are all basking in an incredible glow!" said Tannous.  "It was an amazing night.  I'm proud of our town… so much support for the arts and sciences!  I will say that this turned out to be the most rewarding awards event yet.  I'm in love with all the people that were there.  I'm in love with Flagstaff.

"Most of all, so many people take this event as their own and love it and support it, that we feel we must honor that by making the event fabulous and ensuring that the nominees and winners are selected in an appropriate and transparent way.  It's the best thing we can do to repay everyone's support."

Thanks JT for making it a fabulous event.  It's Monday morning, and it was such a high for me that I'm STILL feeling bursts of bliss.  There is vision!  There are limitless horizons!  We can truly support the arts and sciences (and the ARTISTS and SCIENCES) in our town!!

  I hope that people, especially the nominees, can let this experience continue to uplift them, even if times are rough and the money is tight.  Release your creative energies, and ride the wave for awhile.  Keep the euphoria alive!  You deserve to feel good about your accomplishments!!
 
  As Dave Edwards, winner of the Mayor's Award for Lifetime Contribution to the Arts, said in his acceptance speech, "We live in a good environment to pull this off.  Flagstaff has warmth and sharing as its core values.  There is NOT intense competition."

  Our town has an amazing sense of oneness.  Everyone-- artist, musician, scientist, and patron--is a part of this. 

  (For a complete listing of the award winners, click here.) 

City of Flagstaff neighborhood planner Kim Sharp and Museum of Northern Arizona director Bob Breunig.