There’s a Road We Must Travel: Mariangeles Borghini on the Road to the Removal of the Confederate Flag

By Haley Sprankle

“South Carolina is a beautiful state, and we are a diverse community,” local social worker and social justice activist Mariangeles Borghini says. “And we don’t all fit under that symbol.”

On June 20, 2015, thousands of people gathered on the State House lawn. A symphony of car horns sounded in support and agreement upon entering the scene, and chants of “Take it down!” flooded the streets. The people of Columbia united for one cause—the removal of the Confederate flag from the Capitol grounds. Borghini was one of the driving forces behind this movement. Along with Emile DeFelice, head of Soda City Market, and Tom Hall, attorney and filmmaker, the trio created an event that changed the game of rallies in Columbia, in South Carolina, and in the nation.

“After the attack in Charleston, I was looking online to find discussions about the connection between what happened and the Confederate flag we have flying at the State House…And I couldn’t find any,” Borghini states.

As a social justice and human rights activist, she did what she does best and joined a team rallying people together by creating a Facebook page, “Take Down the Flag SC,” which now has over 8,000 likes. Through the page, Borghini was able to promote the online petition against the flag, while also creating an event under the same title. The immediate response was amazing—in less than 24 hours, the event had over 1,500 people pledging to attend.

“I had no idea how this was going to take off,” Borghini explains. “At Saturday’s rally, we had thousands of people around the State House asking in a peaceful, respectful, and hopeful way. That’s what I call democracy, social participation, and community advocacy.”

The grace of the crowd and profound statements of the speakers were a testament to the honest intentions of the movement. There was no violence, and there were no visible counter-protesters, but there was a whole lot of love. “We worked as a team to make this happen,” Borghini adds. “Not only the three of us, but the thousands of people supporting us through the [Facebook] page and our family and friends that pushed us forward and had our backs.”

While many have openly voiced their disagreement with the movement and claim the flag is merely a symbol of “heritage,” Borghini takes a stronger stance on the hot topic.

“Since I came to this country more than five years ago, it was always a shock for me to go downtown and see the Confederate flag flying in front of our state Capitol. Every time a friend or relative came to visit, it was really difficult and shameful to me to explain that to them. I’ve always felt frustrated and impotent about that,” Borghini divulges. “…The flag has been used as a symbol of hate, racial discrimination, and injustice, and it is offensive for many of us that are living and raising our families in South Carolina.”

In a press conference on June 22, 2015, Governor Haley announced her support for the flag’s removal, and gave a July 4 deadline for the decision to be made.

“I am thankful with our Governor for taking a step forward on this. To remove the flag is the first reasonable step in the process of healing a history of segregation, discrimination, injustice, and loss for many human beings. We are identifying with different values—we are not what the flag symbolizes to the majority of people. I really hope our legislators move in the same direction,” Borghini says.

Activism can’t just stop at a rally, though.

“My advice is to love each other and to speak up when we see something that is not right every day,” Borghini advocates. “Racial violence and other types of injustice happen on a daily basis, so let’s not let that happen. If we don’t do it, we cannot expect others to do it for us!”

For information about future events and initiatives regarding the removal of the Confederate flag, be sure to like the Take Down the Flag SC Facebook page.

“It is great we are not being silent anymore,” Borghini affirms. “We are speaking up and taking action towards having a better place to live and raise our families.”

Nickelodeon Theatre Screens Tom Hall's Compromised

Proceeds from screening of Compromised, a documentary about the Confederate flag on the South Carolina State House Grounds, to benefit Emanuel AME Church.

 

The Nickelodeon Theatre, South Carolina's only non-profit art house film theater, will screen Compromised, a documentary film about the saga of the Confederate flag, memorials, grave markers, statues and symbols on the S.C. State House grounds. Proceeds from Compromised screenings on June 27, at 12 p.m. and 12:30 p.m. will benefit Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, S.C.

Compromised, by Columbia filmmaker Tom Hall, features other prominent South Carolinians, and analyzes the reasons the South Carolina General Assembly voted in 2000 to remove the Confederate flag from the State House dome to its current position facing Main Street in downtown Columbia. The screening will also have a post-film discussion with the director.

“As South Carolina is at a crossroads regarding the fate of the Confederate flag on the South Carolina State House grounds following the shootings at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, we’re again screening Compromised,” said Andy Smith, executive director of the Nickelodeon. “The Nick has the ability to be part of relevant cultural conversations, and we hope this film will add context to the discussion we’re having in South Carolina and throughout the United States about the Confederate flag, its history and its future.”

Tickets for the two screenings are $10 each and no member discounts are available. For more information on the Nickelodeon Theatre, please visit www.nickelodeon.org or follow the Nick on Twitter and Facebook.  Check out the Facebook event to see the other cool kids going to this event.

Darling Dilettante: You’ve Got Time… For More Than Just OITNB by Haley Sprankle

This is it.

The end.

The final episode of the third season of Orange is the New Black.

What am I going to compulsively obsess over in any spare time I have? How am I going to wait a whole year to find out what happens to Piper Chapman, arguably the single most annoying “protagonist” on television? WHAT am I going to do?

I’ve watched every episode up to the last from Thursday until now, in between rehearsals and the necessities of everyday life. I even scheduled my NAPS around episodes.

As I contemplated all this before pressing play, I paused to realize that I do not act like this about anything else. Here I am, having just made an entire summer reading list. Here I am, wanting to go see the Andy Warhol exhibit at the Columbia Museum of Art. Here I am, wanting to make more time for traveling, meeting new people, and seeing old friends. Yet, here I am, watching Netflix.

The latest fad is “binge-watching.” Urban Dictionary defines it as “marathon viewing of a TV show from its DVD box set.” While the definition may be a bit outdated with its exclusion of Netflix and other streaming services, it still has one concept correct—marathoning. With TV shows so accessible, it is too easy to get drawn in, season after season.

With Netflix’s new series, they publish entire seasons all at one time, allowing viewers to choose whether or not they allocate their episodes over time or simply drown themselves in them all at once. If you’re anything like I am, you’ll choose the latter, keeping up with Litchfield Correctional Facility through 13 episodes in less than a week.

As a nation, it seems we’ve all started to fall down this technological rabbit hole.

It becomes too easy to recluse and watch endless episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Mad Men. Our cell phones have become more hand accessories than tools to communicate. It’s easier to e-mail a coworker than to walk over to their cubicle and talk face-to-face.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those people who doesn’t believe in cell phones, or social media, or television. It’s just not possible to eliminate the media from our lives. With just about any job, you have to be able to readily communicate. In this fast-paced world, social media is often the only look into our loved one’s lives. Television not only entertains, but also informs us (biased, or not) of what is happening in the world around us.

Media, whether we like it or not, has not only saturated our lives but become relevant and necessary.

So how do we, in this technological age, utilize the media without gorging ourselves on it? How do we make it more of a tool and less of a crutch?

While I may not have the answer now, I’m going to make the conscious effort to cut down on my screen time. Maybe it will be as little as putting my phone away when I’m at dinner with friends, or maybe I’ll pick up a book when I want to turn on a show. However inconsequential or pretentious it may seem, I want to make an effort to connect more with the people and the world around me than I connect to the Wi-Fi. (How could I resist such a good joke?)

In the meantime, though, I’m going to go finish this last episode...

Double Review: Br'er Rabbit - Columbia Children's Theatre and NiA Theatre

Theatre review by Melissa Swick Ellington

A NiA production in collaboration with Columbia Children’s Theatre is a sure sign of clever family entertainment, and the current offering of Br’er Rabbit will delight audiences of all ages. Written by Darion McCloud, H. Loretta Brown, and Heather McCue, this version of the trickster’s tale celebrates music and rhythm, vibrant characters, audience interplay, and cunning creativity. Recognizing the complex legacy of Br’er Rabbit in his director’s notes, McCloud envisions an approach to the folk character that “really does belong to all of us.” With this production, NiA and CCT present an interpretation of the tale which delivers “that upshot of joy.” (Further observations on the history surrounding the “Br’er” tradition are explored in the accompanying interview by young Kat Bjorn.)

A master storyteller himself, the magnetic performer McCloud is perfectly cast in the storytelling role of Anansi the spider. McCloud’s interaction with the young audience members seems natural and genuine. Even his dynamic facial expressions foster an atmosphere of encouraging warmth. As the crafty and appealing Br’er Rabbit, Bonita Peeples plays the resourceful trickster with quick-witted glee. Peeples draws in the audience with admirable skill, made evident by children’s eagerness to cover for Br’er Rabbit when the other animals realize they have been fooled by the rascal. At the performance attended by this reviewer, kids insisted “She’s nowhere!” and “Run for your life!” in their efforts to help the beloved main character. (An added treat: audiences even get to appreciate her glorious singing voice!)

The entire ensemble delivers first rate performances which include McCue as the brainy and sassy Br’er Tiger, Charlie Goodrich as Br’er Bear, Michael Clark as Br’er Lion, and Jimmy Wall as Mr. Man and Tar Baby.  Supported by percussionist Don Laurin Johnson, this talented group weaves a captivating web of magical sounds and sights. Moments of aural symphony encourage audience members to clap along, and in the case of my preschooler, offer an enthusiastic “Yeah!” At certain performances, alternate actors appear in the roles of Br’er Lion (Clark Wallace), Br’er Bear (Brown), and Mr. Man/Tar Baby (Julian Deleon and Goodrich).

An innovative approach to physical theatricality pervades the production. From the beguiling staging of the opening spider sequence to the finely tuned collaboration of Peeples and McCue in the big chase through the rousing group dance in the final scene, these performers embody characters and story with boldness and flair. Adults will particularly enjoy the pop culture references (check out that Scarecrow!) and wordplay such as the “arugula” jokes, while the kids relish the opportunity to offer ideas on sticky substances for the Tar Baby (peanut butter and jelly, gum, melted candy, and marshmallows were popular choices).

McCloud provides creative vision as director, costumer, and sound designer, and Wall conjures effective visuals as makeup designer. Costumes evoke animal identity while also inviting children to imagine. McCue (company manager), Crystal Aldamuy (stage manager), and Jim Litzinger (sound and light technician) contribute to a cohesive production team.

As one youngster declared early in the performance, “I knew it was going to be funny!” Columbia families have come to anticipate high quality theatre at CCT, and the collaboration with NiA to produce Br’er Rabbit is an enjoyable success. Treat yourself to the rollicking good time of Br’er Rabbit, and you will likely agree with my preschool son’s post-show exultation: “That was FUN!”

Rising Second Grader Interviews Cast of Columbia Children’s Theatre Br’er Rabbit by Kat Bjorn (with some help from her Papa, Arik)

Kat’s Papa:  Hey folks, technically this part isn’t a review of Columbia Children’s Theatre’s current production, Br’er Rabbit, but seriously, you have to see this show—even adults without kids.  You see, there’s a Scarecrow Formerly Known as Prince; Br’er Lions & Tigers & Bears, oh my!; plus more Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Da than you can shake a briar patch at.  Also—

Kat Bjorn:  Papa, shhh!!  I’m starting the interview now.

Papa:  Okay, time to go be scribe.  Seriously, see this show!

Kat Bjorn:  What does “Br’er” mean?

Darion McCloud (Anansi the Storyteller):  That’s a good question.  It means “brother,” but it can be used for boys and girls—all humanity, really.

Heather McCue (Br’er Tiger):  Lady tigers thank you!

Kat Bjorn:  (pointing at Br’er Lion) Are you a lady?

Michael Clark (Br’er Lion):  Are you referring to my fabulous wig—I mean mane?

Kat Bjorn:  Take off your mane.

Br’er Lion:  Don’t mind if I do; it’s getting hot in here.

Jerry Stevenson, CCT Artistic Director:  He’s not even a natural blonde.

Kat Bjorn:  If “Br’er” means “brother,” and they’re brothers, how come Br’er Lion, Br’er Tiger and Br’er Bear are always trying to kill Br’er Rabbit?

Br’er Tiger:  Do you have any brothers and sisters?  I have a sister, and we fight like cats and dogs.

Anansi the Storyteller:  Also, let’s face it, they’re predators.  And rabbits taste good.

Kat Bjorn:  The characters, right?  People don’t really eat people.

Anansi the Storyteller:  Correct.  NiA Company does not endorse cannibalism.

Jim Litzinger, CCT Managing Director:  Nor does Columbia Children’s Theatre!

Kat Bjorn:  Next question.  My Papa says the Br’er Rabbit tales were sometimes codes for African-Americans a long time ago.  What does this mean, and what’s a code?

Anansi the Storyteller:  A code is when people say one thing but mean something else.  And your Papa is right.  During slavery, black people were treated really badly.  They used these stories to feel better.  Br’er Rabbit was code for black people; Br’er Fox and the other Br’er predators were the slaveholders.

Br’er Tiger:  It had a lot to do with power

Anansi the Storyteller:  Right.  They had to speak in code or risk getting punished.

Kat Bjorn:  Why does Br’er Rabbit carry a knapsack in the show poster but not in the play?

Anansi the Storyteller:  Um, director’s choice, I guess.

Papa whispers to Kat.

Kat Bjorn:  Did it have anything to do with budget?

Jerry Stevenson, CCT Artistic Director:  Knapsacks definitely would have broken the bank.

Kat Bjorn:  I’m pretty good at crafts.  I could make a knapsack pretty cheap.

Anansi the Storyteller:  We’ll have to hire you next time as a financial consultant.

Kat Bjorn:  Excuse me, Mr. Scarecrow, can you tell us about “Purple Rain”?

Anansi the Storyteller:  Actually, that’s the Actor Formerly Known as Scarecrow.  The scarecrow’s real name is Button-Bright.  It’s named after a character in L. Frank Baum’s Sky Island.  The Prince mask is another story altogether.

Kat Bjorn:  In the book we’re reading at home, Uncle Remus is the storyteller.  But in this play, it’s Anansi the Spider.  Why?

Anansi the Storyteller:  Actually, many of the Br’er Rabbit stories were originally African folktales.  And in Africa, Anansi the Spider narrates the tales.

Br’er Lion:  Well, I never got there, did I—thanks to Br’er Rabbit!  So we’ll never know!

Kat Bjorn:  How do you prepare to act like an animal character?

Bonita Peeples (Br’er Rabbit):  I use my imagination!  I try to think childlike.  And rehearsal is a great place for me to practice my imagination!

Kat Bjorn:  What was your favorite part of the show?

Jimmy Wall (Tar Baby):  When they’re planning to cook Br’er Rabbit.

Br’er Rabbit:  When Br’er Rabbit interrupts Sister Moon in the shower.

Br’er Lion:  The Tar Baby story.

Kat Bjorn:  Final question:  How come Br’er Rabbit always outsmarts Br’ers Lion, Tiger & Bear, but isn’t smart enough to realize Tar Baby isn’t really alive?

Br’er Rabbit:  You can’t be smart about everything—but I did get myself out of that jam, didn’t I?

Bre’er Rabbit runs June 12-21 with performances at the following dates and times:  Friday, June 12 at 7 p.m.; Saturday, June 13 at 10:30 a.m., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; Sunday, June 14 at 3 p.m.; Saturday, June 20 at 10:30 a.m., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; Sunday, June 21 at 3 p.m.  Tickets are $10 for adult and children 3 and up.  Seniors & Military ticket prices are $8.  Tickets are $5 for the Saturday 7 p.m. performance.  The Columbia Children’s Theatre is located at the Second Level of Richland Mall, 3400 Forest Drive (corner of Beltline and Forest Drive).  Enter the Second Level parking garage walkway and park in Level 2-L for easy access.  Call 691.4548 for more information or to reserve tickets for groups.  To learn more about Columbia Children’s Theatre , visit http://columbiachildrenstheatre.com/ .

Film Review: Love and Mercy by James D. McCallister

An effectively stylized glimpse into Beach Boys mastermind Brian Wilson’s troubled life composing what remains as the arguable pinnacle of the modern American popular music canon, in the brilliant Love and Mercy we find depicted his mid-1960s creative eruption as well as the sad, bizarre interlude twenty years later when the shattered Wilson, his work by then rightly venerated and admired, nevertheless found himself under the mental and chemical duress of an avaricious vampire posing as devoted therapist.

In the film’s boldest stylistic conceit, the overlapping, intersecting movements of this symphony find Wilson portrayed by two capable, established actors: Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood) and the top-billed John Cusack (High Fidelity). Neither of them look especially like Wilson (nor each other), but then Love and Mercy isn't seeking a reading as a standard biopic of a troubled artist's rise and fall, so it’s probably reductive to criticize the visual verisimilitude of the actors (Todd Haynes’s highly stylized I’m Not There, a six-actor portrayal of key moments in Bob Dylan's life, carries out this conceit ad extremum.)

But in that biographical sense, Beach Boys fans familiar or not with the backstage stories will no doubt find much red meat to enjoy. Being cognizant of most of the details of the Wilson story gave this reviewer great pleasure at seeing the often deft inclusion of a myriad of compelling biographical detail regarding the band, the creative rivalry with The Beatles, the controlling and abusive father figure, Brian's aversion to touring, the mythical recording sessions, and so on.

Brian Wilson of both timeframes seems trapped in a circular, living hell of abusers, all of them 'with his best interest' in mind, including bandmate and cousin Mike Love (Jake Abel), who argues for the abandonment of Wilson's masterpiece SMiLE in favor of more bubblegum pop on which they made their fame and fortune. "But Pet Sounds didn't even go gold," he whines.

If any aspect of the narrative suffers under the weight of biopic expectations, it's the often hard-working expository dialogue, used by necessity to fill us in on the broader details of Wilson's creative journey and his band's place in the pop cultural milieu of the times. Again, little of this material feels particularly revelatory; if you know the story, you won’t learn much new.

But it’s the singer and not the song, as they say, and here Dano’s more accurate physical performance of the composer delights and saddens often within the same scene, while the melancholic baggage of the mind-controlled, isolated Cusack version rends at the heart in even more devastating ways. The contrast between the young artist at his peak and this pitiable creature seems vast indeed. Almost like two different people . . .

At last, however, someone comes into Brian's life who wants to help him: after an encounter on the showroom floor where she sells Cadillacs, Melinda (Elizabeth Banks), becomes attracted, and later appalled by, his pathetic situation as the literal prisoner of one Dr. Eugene Lundy (Paul Giamatti).

Ostensibly he's Brian Wilson’s savior, but Melinda quickly sees how the controlling Lundy clearly profits from the supposedly clinical relationship, while at the same time employing a wildly abusive shout-therapy probably quite reminiscent of Wilson's having grown up with a father who not only exploited his sons into stardom, but also beat them. Once Melinda hears Brian’s sad pleas about being over-medicated and legally separated from his family she decides to act, but it won't be easy. Again, in the standard biopic we'd be treated to the dramatic courtroom battle over Brian Wilson's guardianship, but here it's only the emotional beats in which we're interested, which is to the story's ultimate benefit.

While the back-and-forth cutting keeps the dual plot lines moving at a brisk pace, the storytelling never seems rushed, and the scope of the film remains focused and compelling from start to finish. Special commendation goes out to the sound design and music teams, both in terms of the recording session-scenes of Wilson crafting Pet Sounds and later SMiLE.

After producing credits on a number of well-received pictures (12 Years a Slave, Into the Wild), Bill Pohland arrives on the feature directorial scene with as accomplished a first effort as we’ve seen in some time, one that’s sure to attract ample awards attention later this year, in particular for its leads (Dano and Banks) and key supporting role (Cusack). Kudos to all involved in crafting this lyrical cautionary tale about the foibles of a sensitive genius stirred by the voices in his head to create great art, but surrounded by money-grubbers and myopic, opportunistic bloodsuckers keen to both drain and imprison him. It makes for one hell of a harrowing, life affirming hero’s journey. Highest recommendation, though Beach Boys scholars may expect to come away particularly gratified.

The Capote-Van Halen Hypothesis: Michael Spawn Talks Guitar Gods and Wordsmiths

By Michael Spawn

A week ago, a friend and I were sitting in a local tavern, drinking Yuengling, talking literature. Next on his hit list, he told me, was Truman Capote’s landmark true-crime opus In Cold Blood. “It’s a great book,” I said. “You’ll like it. Capote’s got a really interesting style.”

“What’s it like?” he asked. “I’ve never read him.”

A tough question. How best to describe what makes any author’s style so thoroughly his own? After a pause, I decided to appeal to our shared misfortune of having grown up as music geeks and library junkies. “Truman Capote is the Eddie Van Halen of the written word,” I said.

I had hoped it would be a sufficient enough answer that no more explanation would be necessary, but it was not to be.

He blinked. “Go on.”

I leaned back in my chair, winding up for what promised to be an exercise in garbled, nonsense theorizing. Instead, I surprised myself with how much sense my response actually made (at least to me, and at least at the time.) “Alright,” I said. “Eddie’s an amazing guitarist, right? A virtuoso. The sounds that come out when he puts his fingers to the strings could come only from him. It’s like listening to an alien trying to communicate with a Midwestern 4-H club. Capote’s the same way. He’s a demon on the typewriter. Where Eddie’s licks demonstrate an almost manic infatuation with the possibilities of his chosen art form, Capote’s stuff could only have been written by someone who has dedicated his life to the aesthetics of serious prose and the pursuit of the perfect sentence.”

My friend nodded slowly and eyed me sideways. “There’s a but.”

“There is a but,” I said. “But, that’s just it. It’s only aesthetics. Both men represent the performative pinnacle of their respective mediums. For all of their talent, it’s still just a show. It’s ‘look-what-I-can-do.’ With a few exceptions, there’s an emptiness at the heart of what they do. A deficiency of soul.”

He seemed to understand completely. “Oh, okay. That makes sense.” He took a long drink. “I’m still going to read the book.”

“Of course you should still read the book.”

“And Van Halen still kicks ass.”

“Of course Van Halen still kicks ass.”

“But only pre-Hagar.”

“Of course only pre-Hagar.”

From there, talk moved easily and rightfully on to other things, but questions began to gnaw at me. Was I right in my comparison? Was it too simplistic to be useful to anyone but my friend and me? And could this template be used to explain the relationships between other word- and axe-slingers? I couldn’t ignore the possibilities and journalistic importance of such an endeavor. So, what follows—in the interest of public service and writerly responsibility—is a brief rundown of renowned authors and their guitar hero counterparts. The list is by no means complete, but it’s a good start at cracking the shell surrounding perhaps one of the greatest non-mysteries of our time: Can our literary tastes explain our musical leanings and vice versa? (Note: The previously mentioned exceptions to the Capote-Van Halen hypothesis are also provided below.)

Ernest Hemingway = Johnny Ramone: This one should be fairly obvious. Ramone is a paragon of six-string efficiency. No excess, no fluff, no showing off. Likewise, Hemingway made it nearly impossible for anyone to write in lean, declarative sentences without betraying the Old Man’s influence. Johnny viewed lead playing and solos the same way Hemingway viewed subordinate clauses—a masturbatory frivolity to be deployed only in the most desperate moments; i.e., to communicate climactic prosaic intensity or when Phil Spector is waving a revolver in your face.

See: 

“He went over and sat on the logs. He did not want to rush his sensations any.” – “Big Two-Hearted River”

“Judy is a Punk” – The Ramones

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6GAGdBiJF0

Kurt Vonnegut = Joe Walsh: Like everyone else in 1975, the Eagles knew they did not rock. Enter Joe Walsh, an insatiable party monster who brought a sense of roguish mayhem to the most milquetoast band in the world. Like Walsh, Kurt Vonnegut took his fun seriously, and this approach was key. It allowed both men to produce work that was imbued with their drunk-uncle-at-the-reunion personas, dropping nuggets of humanist wisdom and lyrical throwaways just goofy enough to flirt with profundity. Walsh did for the Eagles what Vonnegut did for science fiction, injecting a much-needed sense of play into a staid and self-important institution.

See: “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.” – Cat’s Cradle

“Life’s Been Good” – But Seriously, Folks…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T204WpZSbLw

Charles Dickens = Eric Clapton: Both Clapton and Dickens boast massive bodies of work that have garnered heaps of critical and commercial success. Both possess undeniable talent and perhaps even mastery of their chosen instrument. Both enjoy comfortable elder statesman status and are now required reading/listening for any student of either medium. And both are so dull as to induce comatose drooling and lethargy for which a strong enough accelerant has yet to be synthesized. But they’re not anesthetizing across the board. Mercifully, Clapton has written a small handful of tunes so stellar they justify his entire career (“Layla,” “Bell Bottom Blues”) and Dickens created the most iconic, entertaining character in the admittedly slim pantheon of holiday-themed literature (Ebenezer Scrooge.) The lesson here is that talent can get you far, but resting on your laurels can spell a social legacy of doom.

See: A Christmas Carol

Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1oLU4FAq8E

Hunter S. Thompson = Lou Reed: Lou Reed and Dr. Thompson have more in common than just a love for popping speed like Skittles, though that’s certainly part of the equation. Above anything else, these men were chroniclers—Reed of the strung-out, sexually uninhibited New York City underground freak culture, and Thompson of the perversions and hypocrisies hidden beneath everything from the Kentucky Derby to a presidential campaign. They each saw something in the American character that demanded to be explored and, if the temperature didn’t match the room, exposed. Thompson’s literary style, whether he’s working out some form of reasonable journalism or flights of hash-addled fantasy, is marked by a tendency for digression that doesn’t take anything away from the greater point he’s making; in fact, it’s from these moments that some of his most clear-headed wisdom emerges. Reed shares this meandering tendency. The Velvet Underground were a musical watershed, but what gets so often overlooked is that they might well have been the first serious drone rock band, and these droning side paths were the foundation of some of Reed’s strangest and best moments. The guitar solo in “Pale Blue Eyes,” for example, sounds so odd that it might not even be in the proper key, but somehow that dissonance wraps the song into the neat little package it’s supposed to be. If the solo in a love song feels wrong, it could be because the song’s creator is making a statement about love itself.

See: Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ‘72

“Pale Blue Eyes” – The Velvet Underground

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcDuR9BF0Oc

Truman Capote = Eddie Van Halen: I may have accused Capote of a ‘deficiency of soul,’ and that’s for the most part true. But read this:

“Only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves,

emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their

agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to

heaven for the one that leads to hell.”  -Other Voices, Other Rooms

This line is so good it makes my earlier claim seem really ridiculous and sort of smug. As for Eddie, there’s little evidence that he is anything more than a mind-blowingly talented robot.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uDOFIttS69I

Interview: Americana Trio Prairie Willows to Release Debut LP this Friday, June 12th, at Conundrum

By: Erika Ryan

Despite Columbia cranking out more metal bands than Americana groups, The Prairie Willows have become a staple in the city’s scene.

In 2012, Kristen Harris, Kelley Douglas, and Perrin Skinner became the Prairie Willows, together writing delightfully folky, southern ballads about anything from biscuits to breakups. After a handful of original tunes and local performances over the years, their first official record is finally complete.

They’re taking the stage — and backyard — at Conundrum Music Hall June 12 to celebrate their much-anticipated album release, but also to kick back with some friends. Harris, Douglas and Skinner have been anticipating the album’s release as much as any fan. Also, after a successful partnership with local puppeteer Lyon Hill during Indie Grits, he will be joining the ladies on stage this Friday to perform a piece for their original song “Whiskey.”

They’re hardy, they’re homegrown, and they’re quirky. Their album is expected to reflect each of their personalities just as much as this interview we were able to have with them this week.

Jasper: How did the Prairie Willows come to be? When did you get together?

Perrin Skinner: We came together during the fall of 2012. Kristen moved in with me, and we knew Kelley for a while, because we’ve all been involved in the Columbia music scene for a long time…so we met and we decided to start playing music together, and experimenting to see what would happen. Kelley would just come over, and we would practice in the living room and just work up some songs and some covers. We just kind of took it from there and it blossomed.

Jasper: How is the music community for Americana in Columbia?

Kelley Douglas: I love it. I think it’s the best part of playing music here is that Americana is a really approachable genre. We’ve met a lot of people through playing music. A lot of people can connect with our music — we’re able to share it, and teach them songs that we know, so that they can jump in and play with us sometimes. It’s really fun to kind of collaborate with people, and share songs that some of us already know and learn new ones together.

Kristen Harris: Because of the community in Columbia for Americana, we’ve met some really great people just coming through town that we’ve gotten to play music with or share a bill with. It’s really exciting.

Jasper: Can you tell me a bit about your new album?

Perrin Skinner: It’s been a long time coming for us. We’ve wanted to release a full-length record for a while; it just kind of took us a bit to get everything together. We raised all the money ourselves, and got some really great guys to record us. The record is full of originals as well as traditional songs, and it’s really exciting. It’s called “White Lies.”

Kelley Douglas: What’s cool about it is that—we didn’t plan it—but it sounds like the perfect mixture of the three of us. It has elements of the different kinds of music that we like, and we brought our different tastes in. Just listening to it, you can tell it’s a beautiful collaboration of three very different people who created something unique and it came together as a way to surprise all of us.

Jasper: So, what do you have planned for the album release?

Kelley Douglas: We’re having it at conundrum on June 12, and the doors are at 7:30. Slim Pickens is opening for us—they’re some close friends—and Branhan Lowther, the lead player for that group, is going to join us on stage to play to play with us on a few of our songs. We’ve added him in on a few songs, and I think it gives it a little more of a dynamic. We’re really excited, and we have a lot of friends coming. It’s going to be a lot of fun, we’re going to hang out outside some, and it’s going to be a good night to be with friends…

Kristen Harris: Oh, and we’ll also have a puppet feature.

Jasper: Can you tell me more about that?

Kristen Harris: We collaborated with the local puppeteer, Lyon Hill from the Columbia Marionette Theatre recently for Indie Grits for the Spork in Hand Puppet Slam, and he created a piece that goes along with one of our songs called “Whiskey,” and it’s really cool. His wife, Jennifer Hill, is acting in it as a shadow puppet, and it’s a really cool piece — that’ll be our first part of our performance at the CD release.

Jasper: That’s awesome! So what’s next for the Prairie Willows after this?

All: That’s a good question [laughter].

Perrin Skinner: We’re just going to wait and see what happens — this has been a big goal for us, and we’re reaching it — we’re anticipating the album release and then hopefully it’ll bring a lot of opportunities our way.

We all love the idea of touring — going on the road to play different venues and sell our record. But we’ll be playing shows around town this summer, so that’s kind of what we have in store for right now.

Darling Dilettante: The 69th Annual Tony Awards By Haley Sprankle

A day ago.

June 7, 2015.

The Tony Awards.

Other awards shows are grander, flashier, and better-funded, but what could be classier than celebrating the Great White Way in Radio City Musical Hall with the top tier performers of the day? Thespians far and wide await this day for the entire year… …And I missed it for rehearsal.

Melodramatically devastated, I recorded it and wallowed in self-pity for the rest of the evening. I couldn’t remember the last time I missed the Tonys since I had begun taking theatre seriously. I trudged to rehearsal with the desperate hope that maybe the powers that be would change their minds and cancel. They didn’t. Once I got there, I was immediately entranced. Music flowed as the newly gathered band rehearsed before the cast’s call time. The aura of the live music transported me back to my very first opening night in 2001 at Workshop Theatre in Gypsy, as most live orchestration does to me. I feel the excitement of the overture and re-experience the rush of adrenaline before my first performance—the magic of live theatre when each integral element comes together to make a whole.

… And that was just a rehearsal.

After it was all said and done, I went home, went to bed, and watched the Tonys in the morning. Sure, it wasn’t as exciting as it would have been live; I didn’t get to live-tweet it, much to my chagrin, and I already knew who won Best Leading Actress in a Musical (Go Kelli!), but the magic was still there. Somewhere, the spark of excitement in a little girl’s heart performing for the first time was still a part of my experience. That’s the magic of it all. That’s why we rehearse for countless hours. That’s why we perform multiple times a week. Somewhere, deep down, there’s that memory of when you first fell in love with theatre, whether as a performer or an audience member. Sounds cheesy, right?

As cliché as it may sound, it’s true. People often find serenity, solace, and even sanctuary in the theatre. For many, they were able to pursue their passions; for some, they were finally able to just be themselves.

We finally live in a time in which a kid can see musical theatre completely written by women win the Tony for the first time ever. When a kid can see an Asian woman take home a Tony for only the second time. When a kid can listen to another young girl sing a song about identity when so often kids are told their thoughts and feelings aren’t valid. We finally live in a time that a kid can see an openly LGBTQ+ person host the Tonys. We are so lucky that a young kid can see a woman, who has been nominated five times previously, continue to follow her dreams and finally take home a Tony. We are so lucky to finally live in this time.

… And so am I.

I am incredibly lucky to have theatre in my life. It taught me about diversity from an early age. It taught me discipline. It taught me more than words can express. While I deigned to go to rehearsal in that selfish moment, I now look back and delight in the fact that I was able to create with other people who so wonderfully and passionately commit to their performances. This is what we do—we create so that some kid in the audience, some first-time performer, or even a veteran to the stage can experience the magic.

For a list of this year's Tony winners go here.

Be sure to catch Dream Girls at Trustus Theatre this summer! The show runs June 26-August 1. Go to trustus.org for tickets.

A Case for Staying Online (And Reading More Poetry) by Kirby Knowlton

A poem in the form of status updates sounds like it would read as gimmicky, as if the writer was trying to compensate for hours of procrastination online by using Facebook as inspiration. But Rebecca Lindenberg’s poem “Status Update” is not her taking the easy way out. It’s not cheesy, or flashy, or unintelligent. With lines like, “Rebecca Lindenberg likes poems that don’t necessarily sound sincere but really are,” the poem is distinctly aware of itself and especially of its form, giving it the opportunity to poke fun at some points and reveal truths at others. “Status Update” is a poem I often think about because I think it challenges us to reconsider what deserves to be the subject of poetry, a question that I ask myself every day. I tweet a lot. I tweet some very dumb stuff, but also tiny ideas or observations I have. Wondering what is or isn’t worth sharing makes me very anxious sometimes, to the point where I’ll go back and delete the last five things I said. It seems silly to keep up such a habit if it makes me overthink things so often, but the point is that I’m thinking. Status updates are thoughts, but also fodder for thoughts. Scroll down your newsfeed and what do you see? People’s new babies, new houses, new opinions about the latest current events. Pieces of people’s lives. The things they thought were worth writing down. Is that not the stuff of poetry?

Like with any status update, there’s a narcissistic quality to Lindenberg’s poem. But “Rebecca Lindenberg thinks of poetry as the practice of overhearing yourself.” She arranges these declarations about herself as if they’re observations she picked up elsewhere, considering language and musicality to elevate them from just status updates to poetry. The use of Facebook vocabulary works to her advantage in this. Compare the line “Would like to add you as a friend” to “Loves the smell of dirt gathering in water and the sleep-smell of your morning body.” The two sentiments aren’t that different if you pay attention, if you let yourself overhear the first line to become the interpretation of the second.

Her decision to use this form is braver than it originally appears. She is deciding that the minutiae people share is an important contribution to the world, that the insignificant creates a bigger picture. For as long as it has existed, poetry has been bridging the gaps between people. From writer to reader, reader to another reader, poetry is the written proof of people trying to connect. The medium has changed, but when we post online asking strangers if anyone else loves this, that, or the other, we’re not so different from Walt Whitman calling out to the Americans of the future in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” We’ve all seen the status updates of a user begging for attention, a human connection. Is it any less sincere because it was written online instead of in a book? “Rebecca Lindenberg is lonesome. Is keeping lonesomeness at bay with frequent status updates designed to elicit a thumbs-up icon from you.” We’re all reaching, hoping something will take.

Read the full poem here: http://www.theoffendingadam.com/2011/04/04/status-update-dispatches-from-an-unfinished-world-status-update-2/

The Columbia Broadside Project - Tonight

“Originally we planned on it being a much smaller project that just the three of us and maybe another friend or two would work on. Then we kept saying, ‘I bet so and so would like to work on this. And it went from there.”

Twenty-eight artists and poets come together for The Columbia Broadside Project under the organization of Darien Cavanaugh. The local writer with an MFA from USC had an interest in broadsides since young adulthood through the influence of collaborations by historic and contemporary poets and artists. After seeing a broadside featuring a poem by Albert Goldbrath and a couple beers with friends, the inception of The Columbia Broadside Project began.

“I had plans to start an annual broadside contest at Yemassee, but I got my MFA and left USC before I ever really made any moves on that. Then a few years ago Matt Catoe, Blake Morgan, and I were sitting on the back porch drinking beers and talking about ways we could work together,” Cavanaugh explained. “Morgan was teaching visual art at USC, and Catoe was in that program. I had started getting some poems published in little magazines and journals again. I went inside and grabbed a couple of broadsides and said, ‘How about we do something like this?’"

Three years of planning in, The Columbia Broadside Project is now in its second year and being exhibited at The Columbia Museum of Art after a show at Tapp's Arts Center last year. Through an open call for poets and artists, Cavanaugh was able to gather people to collaborate and work together.

“I don't really judge the aesthetics or style of the work, I just want some evidence that they work fairly regularly. If you can't show me anything you've done recently, and there aren't too many lines on your CV to suggest some creative productivity, then I'm not going to have much faith in you actually working with whoever I partner you with. I want this project to represent a range of styles and aesthetics, from accomplished poets and artists as well as up and comers. I think we do a good job of that,” Cavanaugh says. “That's one of my favorite parts of this project -- seeing all the different styles of art next to each other. So it terms of selecting participants, I just need to know that you'll produce. I'm not here to judge what you produce.”

The artists and poets, after being randomly paired, come together not necessarily to mimic, but rather to create an interpretive relationship.

“There's always a lot in the painting that's not in the text, and vice versa. This connects you to the work in different ways, brings different memories and senses into play. Sometimes when I think of one of the paintings, I'll remember a line from the poem,” Cavanaugh says.

All formalities and explanations aside, this is not merely some attention-seeking project for Cavanaugh. As a self-described “nerd,” Cavanaugh connects with all art, but mostly with writing.

“We live in a cold and isolating world. The arts remind us not only that there is some beauty out there but also that we're capable of creating some of it,” Cavanaugh says. “I've always seen reading and writing as an act of forgiveness, a process of forgiving yourself and others. A good story tricks you into empathizing with characters you might not like by portraying them as complex, vulnerable human beings that you can connect with on some basic level.”

This collective project has its opening reception tonight at The Columbia Museum of Art from 7 to 11. Tickets are $5 for CMA members and $7 for general admission and can be purchased at https://3162.blackbaudhosting.com/3162/tickets?tab=2&txobjid=7df94408-31d7-4f9e-a346-88327b4bead1.

“I just want to throw a blanket thank you out to the Columbia arts scene and everyone who worked on and helped promote this project in any way. This really is a collaborative effort, not just by the artists and writers involved but also by dozens of other people who encourage and inspire us,” Cavanaugh appreciatively states. “I hope that this project introduces artists and writers to a broader audience here in Columbia and maybe even a little beyond our city.”

by Haley Sprankle

Jasper Does Spoleto - part 4, Chamber Music & Chinese Opera

By: Kyle Petersen

One of the many amazing things about Spoleto is the diversity in its music programming, spanning from its acclaimed chamber music series and contemporary opera to noise-jazz and traditional folk music, with everything in between also being represented. While we’ve already written about the charming performance given by Americana duo Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell early on in the festival, we’d like to talk briefly about some of the more highbrow (and quite excellent) music we’ve also been enjoying here.

Bank of America Chamber Music

We caught Program IV of this series last Wednesday and could not have been more satisfied with the experience. Programming director and violinist Geoff Nutall is a stylish and witty emcee whose rapport with the audience was worth the ticket price alone. Leading the patrons through the eclectic line-up of compositions with flair and poise, he kept the audience at ease even as the performances themselves set us back.

Alternating between uber-traditional fare (Mozart’s Sonata in G Major, K. 379, Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte, op. 98, and Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto no. 2 in F Major, BWV 1047) and more adventurous compositions from Huang Ruo, whose Chinese performance art opera Paradise Interrupted is also featured at the festival, and 20^th century Russian composer Alfred Schnittke, the program’s variety and shifts in tone and texture presented a fascinating window into the historical breadth of chamber music as well hinting at all of the possibilities and potential that still exist for the format. Nutall and pianist Pedja Muzijevic opened with the virtuosic flurry of notes required for Mozart sonata, only to be followed up by the unusual instrumentation (violin, cello, voice, djembe, bassoon, pipa) required for Ruo’s “Flow… (I and II),” a folk-indebted piece that showcased the pipa, a traditional Chinese lute that we would later also hear used to great effect in Paradise Interrupted.

Next was the husband-and-wife team of baritone Tyler Duncan and pianist Erika Switzer, who took us through the Beethoven song cycle. The couple gave an assured performance, aided by Nutall’s helpful note that the English translation of the lyrics were printed in the program.

My favorite piece on the program, though, was Schnittke’s austere, enigmatic Hymn II, a piece which saw double bassist Anthony Manzo and cellist Christopher Costanza carefully align the movements of their bows as they produced fragile, ghostly timbres and atonal harmonies that prickled the spine.

The concert closed with an ensemble performance of the popular (and canonical) Brandenberg Concerto, with the slight twist of an E-flat clarinet, played by Todd Palmer, taking place of the traditional piccolo trumpet. The performers gave a lovely rendition of the tune, although audience members are more likely to remember the slapstick improv brought on Nutall and, between movements, oboist Austin Smith, who ostentatiously paused the performance to clean out his instrument.

It’s also worth noting that there was a beautiful moment between movements when a scattering of applause broke out, a bit of a faux paus in classical music performances. Not only did the audience, after some uncertainty, begin clapping along with those that jumped the gun, but they were urged on by Nutall, tradition be damned. It was a giddy feeling, and emphasized the warm balance of world class musicianship and casual relatability that defines the series.

Paradise Interrupted

Later that day we caught the evening performance of Ruo Huo and Jennifer Wen Ma’s opera. It’s a bit of an abstract, high-concept piece that melds Chinese traditions with Western idioms that takes place in a dreamlike landscape. The music was breathtaking, particularly the gorgeous performances delivered by Qian Yi, the show’s star, and countertenor John Holiday, whose voice continues to haunt me, but it was hard not to get lost in the cerebral excellence of the set design. Many might remember Wen Ma name from her work on the 2008 Beijing Olympics, where she directed and designed the opening and closing ceremonies, and her work here has a similar mesmerizing effect. Using a large white performance space and unorthodox lighting, as well as a host of large props and trap doors, a vividly unreal world emerges and disappears over the course of the opera that has to function and opera differently given the limitations of each venue it’s performed at. It’s hard not to note that this kind of immersive, multidisciplinary approach is actually what’s needed in an art form too often grasping tenuously to its past.

Chatting About Conundrumfest with Cecil Decker

Conundrum Music Hall is celebrating its 4^th birthday on June 13th with a humdinger of a party, Conundrumfest, a blitzkrieg of a festival featuring 15 bands, 3 comedians, 4 artisans, and 2 food trucks.

Jasper staff writer Michael Spawn caught up with Cecil Decker, a key organizer of the festival who runs sound at the venue and fronts the nerd-rap group Autocorrect along with a variety of noise projects, to chat a bit about the festival. For full details, check out their Facebook event page here.

Jasper: Pretend that I don’t know anything about Conundrumfest and have no idea what it is. Tell me what it is in the simplest way possible.

Cecil Decker: Well, Conundrum is turning four years old and I wanted to have, like, a party, because I like parties. And we decided the best way to do that would be do gather up a bunch of people who have been involved with Conundrum a lot in some way, whether or not their actually involved in working there. People that have just played there so much that it feels like they’re just a part of the place, you know? It’s  a party for anyone who has ever been a part of Conundrum to celebrate it’s still being around.

J: So are you masterminding this thing?

CD: Myself and Jeremy from Daddy Lion, Jeremy Joseph, we’re both sort of the evil masterminds—the brain trust of putting it together. It was sort of an idea I had and I was like, ‘I can’t do this alone.’ And Jeremy had done Villa Villa Cola last year, which was a huge success, and I said, ‘Well, he clearly had a little more experience in this than me.’ You know, I’m used to a little three-band rock show. I don’t if I can handle a fifteen-band all day extravaganza. So he’s been a huge help and between Indie Grits and Conundrumfest it’s been an eventful Spring.

J: How long have you been planning this?

CD: We planted the seed in Tom’s mind probably in January. January and February. Then we kind of backed off a little bit until late March and it’s been sort of full blast since then, just contacting bands, and then you re-contact the bands, because it’s that thing like, ‘You know that thing we talked about two months ago? Can you still do that?’

J: Did you get all the bands that you wanted? Were there any no-thank-yous or no-can-dos?

CD: There were some no-can-does. There weren’t any no-thank-yous. There were, I think, two that couldn’t do it. But it was like, ask everyone and make the event as long as it needs to be for all the bands.

J: What is it about Conundrum itself? What do you think separates it from a New Brookland Tavern or an Art Bar?

CD: Well, as a musician, Conundrum sounds really good. I know there’s some aesthetic and vibe you get from other small venues, but Conundrum sounds really good. Like, the stage sounds good and the room sounds good, and that’s a huge point of pride for us first and foremost.

J: And by us, you mean. . .?

CD: The whole Conundrum consortium. I’m a sound geek and I run sound there. There’s Tom and there’s Jeremy and a couple other people who are behind the scenes. I just mean the Conundrum staff.

J: Is your appreciation for Conundrum purely acoustical?

CD: Well, we’re not a bar, right? Because we’re not first and foremost a bar, we make our money on bringing the arts to people rather than having music shows and selling a lot of liquor. The entire vibe of the places comes from that. You don’t have a show where. . .it will never be Bey’s, right? There’s never a show where you’re playing and there’s not a single person listening. When people roll through, they’re like, ‘Oh, you’re a music venue!’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, you booked a show here.’ So that’s the number one thing. We’re trying to be more arts inclusive. We have artists setting up shop at Conundrumfest—painting and crafts and things they’ve made and we do more film events. It’s still a music hall in name because that’s our primary thing, but we definitely try to be more inclusive to all the arts. The Soda City Cirque did an amazing show there recently. So it’s definitely a place where you don’t ever know what you’re going to see but you know it’s going to be really interesting. We try to bring types of programming that you wouldn’t get at Art Bar or New Brookland. That probably works because we’re smaller than them. It’s a really infinite room and it feels good to be there.

Darling Dilettante: Literature Edition by Haley Sprankle

Remember those books you were supposed to read for school? (Notice how I said “supposed.”) You were forced to analyze, break down, and summarize each story full of heightened, seemingly ancient language. Then, essay after essay, you decided that you never wanted to hear anything about those books (that you probably didn’t even read to begin with) ever again. Well, surprise! I’m here to talk to you about them.

As a student who hated (and still often does) being assigned reading and told how to think of it, I found every way possible to avoid reading books by classic authors like Charles Dickens, William Faulkner, and even sometimes the beloved playwright Mr. William Shakespeare himself. I found it difficult to believe that these books that were written for entertainment were meant for this type of scrutiny instead of paying attention to the beauty of the narrative.

As I got older, however, I swallowed my pride and attempted to participate the way I was expected to in class. I didn’t read everything—and no, kids, I won’t divulge my secrets to success academically in this subject—but I did discover writing that I would soon fall in love with.

My love of literature began while reading Ernest Hemingway’s In Our Time. This compilation of seemingly unrelated short stories initially struck me as a piece that I would not likely deign to read, but I quickly fell in love with the puzzle and challenge of finding the subtext of the stories. Then, like most every high school student, I was handed F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. The layered symbolism and tragic love story—one that would later be added to poor Leonardo DiCaprio’s repertoire of characters who die in the pursuit of their love—drew me in immediately. My senior year, we read Kate Chopin’s The Awakening, a tale of female empowerment and self-discovery with an adulterous twist that surprised me with its controversial subject matter of the time.

After high school, I began to pursue literature of my own accord, and have fallen in love with so many stories that are so often written off as classwork. In the hopes of continuing this pursuit fervently, and that others may join me, I have created a summer reading list. Crazy, right? I have plenty of teachers who would be shocked and can attest to my historical hatred of them, but I am a changed woman. All jokes aside, here is a list of books I’ve either started to read, should be embarrassed that I haven’t read, or simply take a genuine interest in because that’s what books are for:

• Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin
• Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
• This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
• Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austin
• To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
• A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
• The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
• The Scarlett Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
• The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

While this is a rather ambitious list to tackle over the summer, it also shows me that no matter how intelligent I might think I am, there is a sea of knowledge that I’ve clearly just dipped my toe in. I hope to delve into this world of books, both old and new, throughout the summer and the year, and I hope that you’ll join me!

Leave a comment if you have any book suggestions, or to update your progress on the list!

Some Words on Words by Kirby Knowlton

Every time my grandmother goes to the movies, she tells me about the previews. She tells me in detail about the ones that caught her interest, how maybe she’ll go see this one or that one when it comes out, almost a promise of more previews for her to tell me about. This is what she always says: Can you believe there’s still new movies coming out? It amazes her that all the ideas haven’t been thought of yet, that people are still out there creating and recreating. Among so much change and after so much time in her life, she still loves movies. Columbia-born Terrance Hayes wrote a line that I’m always coming back to. His poem “God is an American” starts simple, with the honesty of saying what you’ve been meaning to this whole time. “I still love words.” I think of this first line when my grandmother is amazed that she still has movies to see, when in reading a new poem or short story, I find traces of one I’ve read before, when I’m thinking to myself in the car or shower. I’m always thinking about this line because it’s one of the truest that I’ve read, and like my grandmother admires the people writing and creating new movies, I admire Hayes for starting with something that seems so obvious.

Hayes has been writing for a long time. Humans have been writing much longer than that. Language is all we have to explain our thoughts, our ideas, our beliefs. When everyone has to share the same building blocks, isn’t it amazing every single time something new is created? Or when something old is recreated? Because that’s all we’re doing. Creating and borrowing and rearranging and making new again. After so much has already been written, I still love words. That I can dismantle the words of another, host them in my head, the car, the shower, until I can use them as building blocks of my own.

Later in the poem, Hayes writes, “Schadenfreude may be the best way to name the covering / of adulthood, the powdered sugar on a black shirt.” I am not an adult, though I’m getting there in the way we try to remember forgotten words: desperately without success, and then in single, random moments, it’s all right there. There are days we don’t have words for. There are days we have four-letter words for. There are moments we can’t get through but to borrow joy from another person’s pain, small cruelties to hold onto like a smooth stone in your pocket. There are moments when I need someone else’s words to understand what’s happening. Yes, schadenfreude because everyone is a little bit of an asshole at their core. But also schadenfreude through words, reading about the past pain of another to benefit your present.

I’m not yet an adult, but my patience is already wearing thin. When someone says what they’ve been meaning to say, I still love words. When a stranger on the street says something kind instead of harassing, I still love words. When I read something to help guide the way, I still love words. “A word can be the boot print / in a square of fresh cement and the glaze of morning.” A word can be anything, and we owe it everything. Where would we be without them, our little building blocks to create nations, suggest movies, or reflect on what they’ve given us?

Read the full poem here: https://www.guernicamag.com/poetry/three_poems_1/

Jasper Does Spoleto - part 3, Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell @ TD Arena Review

There’s always something a bit odd about seeing music outside of its natural context. For the organic folk and country made by Americana royalty Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell, the music is best heard in a small listening room or, barring that, a cozy theater.

That disconnect might be why it felt a little awkward for the first few songs the duo played with their five-piece backing band on Tuesday night. Opening with a cover of Lucinda William’s “I Just Wanted to See You So Bad” and few other more rollicking numbers, the music sounded both a little thin and a little boomy in TD Arena, hardly descriptors that naturally come to mind when thinking about either artist’s work. Crowell and Harris handled whatever sound struggles there might have been gracefully though, and things settled in after a while.

The duo, whose musical partnership dates back to 1975, when Crowell wrote a few songs and played rhythm guitar in Harris’s The Hot Band, were touring in support of their two duo records, the Grammy Award-winning Old Yellow Moon from 2013 and the recently-released The Traveling Kind, so a decent chunk of the set covered songs from those records, but there seemed to be relatively little formula for how the show unfolded. The ease with which Harris, 68, and Crowell, 64, led their band and joked playfully in between songs drew the show as close as it could to that listening room vibe, and it was clear how and why these guys are world-class entertainers. Both are still in such fine vocal form that you almost forget how many years they’ve been at it, even as they jokingly remind you of their long history. Upstate native Fayssoux McLean, who sang harmonies on those early Hot Band records, was in attendance and got a couple of shout-outs from Harris, but there was relatively little ceremonial about the proceedings as the two talked about playing in a hotel lobby at the Kerrville Folk Festival a few weeks ago and kidded Spoleto about having a festival indoors.

The informality of presentation was belied by the fairly studied nature of the songs themselves. Harris still, forty years later, grounds much of set in the songs of Gram Parsons, with “Return of the Grievous Angel” and “Love Hurts” both given lovely readings with Crowell taking the place of Parsons and Harris re-creating the unforgettable harmonies that dominated those recordings. Other highlights include her plaintive interpretation of Townes Van Zandt’s “Pancho & Lefty” and a mesmerizing encore of Parson’s “Hickory Wind,” which she told the audience she only plays when performing in South Carolina. Much of the material on the new record sounded positively effervescent as well, with the elegiac “The Traveling Kind,” the classic country shuffle “No Memories Hanging Round” and the Harris ballad “Higher Mountains” being particular standouts.

These more tender moments were balanced by a clearly talented backing band that played purposefully restrained for much of the evening only to charge through a few dazzling solos near the end of the set. Australian lead guitarist Jedd Hughes was particularly spectacular, throwing down a boisterous rock solo at the end of the night that nearly upended the even-keeled signature performance style that Crowell and Harris are known for.

When the duo returned for the “Hickory Wind”/”Old Yellow Moon” encore, though, a hushed reverence returned to the proceedings. Hearing voices this good, playing songs this good, was ultimately all this night was about.

The Oddities of Sein Zum Tode: A Q&A with Bassist Jamie Clark About the Band's Video for "Worse Than Catholic"

By: Michael Spawn Sein Zum Tode’s music is not for the faint of heart. The Columbia trio (Jon Scott—guitar, David Scott—drums, Jamie Clark—bass) is one of the most interesting and aurally challenging bands in the city, and likely the whole Southeast. You’ll typically find them on a bill of metal acts, but to reduce Sein Zum Tode to that genre is something of a cop-out. The sheer mathematical and virtuosic intricacies in every song put them in a class truly all their own. In preparation for their upcoming EP, “Siamese Second Cousins Never Removed,” which will see its official release this Friday at New Brookland Tavern, Jasper spoke with bassist and video director Jamie Clark about his video for “Worse Than Catholic,” an animated fever dream that plays like an old Warner Brothers cartoon set in purgatory and can be viewed below.

Jasper: What is your history with Sein Zum Tode?

Jamie Clark: I actually play bass guitar in Sein Zum Tode. I’ve been playing with them since about 2005. Jon and David handle the majority of songwriting. This allows a level of separation between my videos and their ideas, which I think leads to some interesting interpretations.

J: When and how did you become interested in directing videos?

JC: I’ve been working with multimedia in one form or another since the mid-‘90s. Back then—editing footage of animals to Pantera’s “Fucking Hostile” for a high school biology assignment—the process to get something from the computer to the television was painstaking and expensive. Once I was reintroduced to digital media in college—around 2001—I was amazed at how simplified it had become. I instantly started writing short films and coming up with video projects, which is something I’ve kept up with off and on ever since. Being part of the music scene meant I had an unlimited supply of friends who would love videos. Taking on music videos always seemed like a fun break from filmmaking because their short in length, a lot of your pacing decisions are already made for you, and you don’t have to record on-set audio.

J: What was the original concept for the “Worse Than Catholic” video and how close to that concept is the finished product?

JC: Something that I hear a lot about Sein Zum Tode is the music sounds completely random and chaotic. Since I’ve actually had to write out all of these parts and learn them on bass, I know there’s a very deep, intricate structure to the songs. My goal was to come up with a concept that articulated that structure. Making it animated allowed us to go as crazy as we wanted to go. I had been inspired by shows like Superjail! on Cartoon Network that feature incredibly long and detailed animated chase scenes where things are happening and scenes change so quickly you often have to go back and rewatch. My writing partner and I sat down with a spreadsheet of all the different parts of the song and talked about how we could start tying them all together into a single narrative. To that end, I think the finished product is exactly what we set out to create.

J: Who is your writing partner?

JC: Russell Sanders, the star of the video. I met him when he was studying acting at USC back in 2005 and we’ve co-produced just about everything I’ve worked on since. I handle most of the directing and he handles most of the acting, but we’re both equally active in getting projects to completion. He ran camera on the last video we did for Sein Zum Tode , “Mansteam,” when I had to be on camera.

J: What program did you use to make the animation?

JC: For this project I worked almost exclusively in Adobe After Effects, with a bit of help from Photoshop. Jon and David both have a history of drawing weirdo creatures, so I asked them to draw me as many as they could. I got stacks and stacks of pages, which I then scanned into the computer. Then in After Effects you build something that kind of looks like a paper doll—a creature with an individual head, body, arms, legs, etc. Handling the animation in After Effects means you have to do every little frame-by-frame animation, and much more animation by math. “On frame one have the bat be on this side of the room, and by frame 115 have him on this side,” and the computer fills in the rest. The scene where he’s riding on the mine cart actually almost destroyed (trying to think of a word other than “derailed” to avoid puns) the entire project. When it came time to actually render the video, After Effects was giving me the error, “Sorry, this background is too large.” I didn’t know how to fix is short of starting over again, so I put the project aside for a number of months while I hid under my bed. Once I finally got over my fear and looked into it, it was a pretty simple fix and we were back on track. Even with the fix, it took about 48 hours to render the video every time. There’s nothing worse than not using your computer for two days, finally having a copy of the finished product, and finding an error in the first two seconds.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0N7qfRAgAs

Jasper Does Spoleto - part 2 The Globe's Romeo and Juliet by Haley Sprankle

 

There I sat, at the tender age of seven, watching Baz Luhrmann’s 1990s adaptation of Romeo and Juliet while following along with the text to make sure the actors didn’t veer too far from the source material.

During my most awkward stage, at the age of 13, I went to the local high school’s production of the same classic play after reading it in class.

At 16, I saw a talented friend of mine, Danielle Peterson, beautifully perform the titular female role in the Lab Theatre at USC.

In the height of my teenage angst, at the age of 17, I watched Luhrmann’s rendition again on Valentine’s Day because “love isn’t a reality,” and because it had become a personal favorite of mine throughout the years.

Fast forward to May 2015 and I’m experiencing the Globe Theatre’s touring production of the same play that had so ingratiated itself into my life at Charleston’s Spoleto Festival and I am in awe.

Most every moderately educated person in the world knows the tale of the star-crossed lovers who (spoiler alert) commit suicide to preserve their love despite their families’ brawling hatred for one another. This allows great room for interpretation when producing the renowned play, as most Shakespearian works do. Directors Dominic Dromgroole and Tim Hoare masterfully crafted this production for Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre’s travelling company and had a brilliant cast to support their concept.

With just a cast of eight, on a bare-bones set, and with simplistic costume pieces similar to an indie-folk band’s attire with some added Shakespearian accents, the directors were able to transform the stage and present the text so eloquently.

Each actor, sans the two portraying the titular roles (Samuel Valentine and Cassie Layton), assumed multiple parts, distinguished by their garb, accents, and physicality. This automatically sparked my interest as I tried to find the pattern in which the directors grouped characters for each actor. Seemingly, with the patterns I detected, the pairings either highlighted the juxtaposition between characters, or the vast thematic similarities between them.

Steffan Donnelly took on the roles of Mercutio, Prince, and Apothecary, representing a character in control of the immediate present, a character in control of life, and a character in control of death. Matt Doherty adopted the roles of Tybalt, Paris, and Lord Montague, all of which are men who hinder Juliet’s pursuit of Romeo; Tybalt for his hate, Paris for his own pursuits, and Lord Montague for his name. Steven Elder played Lord Capulet and Friar John (the Friar who failed to deliver the urgent message to Romeo), the two men directly culpable for Juliet’s failed love. Sarah Higgins portrayed Nurse, Lady Montague, and Balthazar and Hannah McPake portrayed Lady Capulet and the Chorus. These characters, while vastly important in the performances, are often victims of their circumstance. Finally, Tom Kanji adopted the roles of Friar Laurence and Benvolio, the two characters who act merely out of benevolence.

The minimalist aesthetic was visually and thematically pleasing. The set was a mere skeleton, enabling actors to move freely about the space without the restriction of location. This also played into the directors’ concept that Romeo and Juliet are representative of the whole world, not simply two young lovers. The uniform white, khaki, and oxford costumes each actor donned eased the flow when switching from character to character while matching the set’s rustic, earthy vibe.

The directors also cut the play so that scenes, featuring Romeo and Juliet’s separate lives, happen in tandem with each other. This allowed the audience to draw parallels between the young lovers’ expressed thoughts and ideas while also quickening the pace. One of the most impressive actions resulting from this tactic was a beautiful transition where Kanji changed from Friar Laurence to Benvolio before the audiences’ eyes at the drop of a robe.

Overall, the production was beautifully crafted with each actor a master of her and his performance. I was completely entranced for the entirety of the show, from beginning to end. While I am still merely in the beginning of my theatrical training and knowledge of Shakespeare, the little seven-year-old girl inside me following along with the text gave this production her seal of approval.

The production runs May 27-June 7. Call the Dock Street Theatre box office at (843) 577-7183 for tickets!

Jasper Does Spoleto -- Reviews, Recountings, & Recommendations, part 1 in a series

This year, Jasper has a number of editors and writers on the Spoleto scene in hot and humid Charleston, SC, bringing readers up-to-the-minute reviews and recommendations for how best to program your daytrips and overnighters to the Holy City for some of the best international art to come this way since, well, last year's festival. Also, in the great tradition of fringe festivals worldwide, Piccolo Spoleto also offers the opportunity to see works by both emerging and established artists, both local and from fields afar, for a ticket price that is often significantly less than the often-hefty priced Spoleto festival entrance fees.

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A Streetcar Named Desire

Jasper's Picks for this year's festival included the Scottish Ballet's new interpretation of Tennessee Williams' classic Southern drama, A Streetcar Named Desire.

Set to a sultry score by Peter Salem, Scotland's national ballet company cast a spell over the audience at the College of Charleston's Sottile Theatre with an adaptation that was so engaging if was difficult to pay attention to the quality of the dancers' techniques. But when this reviewer could remember to cast a critical eye toward such important building blocks to a successful performance as feet articulation, port de bras, positioning, and execution, she found there was little lacking in the caliber of dancer this company brought to the stage.

A minimalist set consisting primarily of clever lighting and rectangular boxes, some also lit, allowed for  a fluidity that progressed the story of Blanche DuBois, her sister Stella, Stella's man Stanley, and the literally deconstructed Belle Reve plantation along at a surprisingly rapid pace.  With the women costumed in silky chemises and the men in long pants and classic sitting-on-the-stoop-having-a-smoke-and-drinking-a-beer undershirts, and the Charleston humidity fresh on this viewer's bare shoulders, it was easy to be transported to the French Quarter of New Orleans, to find oneself listening for a distant and melancholy saxophone tune to drift by on the wind, to take a deep breath and find filé on the nose. Such was the success of the Scottish Ballet's authentic adaptation of this classic tale. - cb

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Sleeping Beauty

Italy’s Carlo Colla and Sons Marionette Company charmed festival audiences with its production of Cinderella in 2010, and returned this year to share their performance of another classic fairy-tale,  Sleeping Beauty.

With 165 meticulously handcrafted puppets and costuming and scenery stunningly hand-painted to complement the story, Eugenio Monti Colla recounts this tale of Aurora with her curses and blessings bestowed according to the original 1697 telling by Charles Perrault, The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood.   

Truly a story for the ages, the performance leaves children mesmerized by the lively marionettes and the tale they weave, and adults enchanted by beauty and intricacy of the tiny actors, which are works of art in and of themselves. - cb

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Coming Up -- Haley Sprankle writes about her love affair with Romeo and Juliet, Kyle Petersen writes about opera and chamber music, and Cindi Boiter writes about two Piccolo Spoleto events

Services for York Country Artist Clyde Eugene Merritt

Everyone is welcome to the service for friend and artist Clyde Eugene Merritt, this Friday, May 29 at 9:30 a.m. at the original Chapel of St. Mary Catholic Church, 902 Crawford Road, Rock Hill, SC 29730.  

York County Artist Dies

York County artist Clyde Eugene Merritt died peacefully Saturday morning, May 16, 2015.

Born November 30, 1936, his early childhood was spent in Columbia, S.C.   Most of his adolescent and adult life Merritt lived in Fort Mill and Rock Hill, eventually on Confederate Avenue and later at Pilgrim’s Inn as one of its first residents.  In his declining years he moved to Yorktowne Village, now Agape Senior, an assisted living facility in York, S.C.   Though he worked a number of jobs during his life from bag boy to shoe shine man to janitor in a local movie theatre, Merritt is best remembered for sitting at “his” table at Watkins Grill in downtown Rock Hill where for nearly ten years he created thousands of drawings.  He was a kind and loving man, embraced by those who knew him for his remarkable memory and keen wit.

Merritt’s drawings were included in collections and exhibitions throughout the world from London to Tokyo to Paris to Lausanne.  In the U.S. he was included in the collections of Duke University’s Nasher Museum, the Museum of York County, and the South Carolina State Museum.  His drawings represented a rare singular, original vision and spoke to the connection between hand and eye, between mind and pen, between heart and paper.  Merritt’s work was recently featured in the UNC Press publication The New Encyclopedia of Southern Culture: Volume 23, Folk Art.  There is also a photo essay about him in Mario Del Curto’s publication The Outlandersfeaturing artists from around the globe.  Regardless, since the 2001 death of one of his major advocates, Swiss curator and writer Geneviève Roulin, little has been seen of Merritt’s work.

Since his drawing was there for everyone to see from the first carefully conceived line to the last, his work was very accessible.  Sharing with others was part of his creative process. As drawings were completed, he gave them away or sold them for spare change. This was his business and he was a self-acknowledged “hard working man.”  Between the years of 1992-2012 his drawings were identified by a progression of signatures or “autographs” including Gene’s Art to Gene’s Art Inc. to Gene’s Art Museums Inc.   The drawings served as his business cards.  Merritt’s drawings employed subjects we all knew from popular culture including movie and TV stars, country music artists, politicians and people that he cared about. And he cared about people.

With his passing it is important to note that many of us really did not know this quiet man who once walked daily from his Confederate Avenue home to regular stops along the way where he visited other hard working, everyday people. Stops included the barber shop, the dry cleaners, the loan company, Hardees, the car dealership, Scuba Adventures, the pawn shop, the arts council, and, of course Watkins Grill.  Later he would find hard working people at Pilgrims Inn, Yorktowne Village and Agape.  It was these folks who realized, who knew, and who loved his special genius, just as he loved them.  And yes, Gene would walk every day and would bring a small smile to anyone still willing to smile. So thank you Clyde Eugene Merritt.  We love you; your hard work is done.

Courtesy of Tom Stanley

Opening at if ART: PETER LENZO & JOE SCOTCHIE–LENZO

The breakthrough for the ceramic sculptures for which Columbia artist Peter Lenzo now is known nationally came in 2000 from his then four-year-old son Joe. Lenzo was making face jugs steeped in Southern tradition when his son asked whether he could stick all kinds of stuff into Lenzo’s ceramic heads. He could and in the process set his father on a course that would result in highly embellished, at times frightening ceramic figures and faces adorned with found and created objects sticking in and out of bodies and faces that are at times unrecognizable as the face jugs from which they originate. The adornments range from ceramic shards to found or purchased porcelains dolls, animals, pipe heads, trains, shoes, roosters or Virgin Mary statues and snakes, leaves, sticks and other things that Lenzo makes himself. For its June exhibition, if ART Gallery will show 22 ceramic sculptures that Lenzo and his son, the now 19-year-old Joe Scotchie-Lenzo, created together in 2000–2002. The exhibition, Peter Lenzo & Joe Scotchie-Lenzo: Origins 2000–2002, will open June 5 and run through June 27. The opening reception is Friday, June 5, 6 – 9 p.m. A gallery talk by Lenzo and Scotchie–Lenzo will be Saturday, June 20, 2:00 p.m. The exhibition will be accompanied by a catalogue.

“I made my dad famous,” Scotchie-Lenzo used to say about his dad.

“He started saying that right away,” Lenzo says. In truth, Lenzo already had a considerable reputation with other kinds of work – cabinet-like altarpieces filled with found objects and personal mementos. But in the late-1990s, Lenzo no longer could make such pieces as brain damage from a bicycle accident in his youth had caught up with him, and he increasingly suffered from seizures. Working with a table saw and other power tools to create the altars was an accident waiting to happen. As a result, Lenzo had switched to clay exclusively, making Southern-style face jugs. While Lenzo loved making traditional face jugs, he also worried about abandoning the fine art world from which he came. The new work inspired by his four-year-old bridged the gap. “Working with Joe gave me a direction to go in when I didn’t know where to go. I wouldn’t say Joe made me famous, but he made me sane.” Peter Lenzo (b. 1955) is a widely recognized ceramic sculptor with a national profile. The New York City native, who grew up in Detroit, was selected for the 1995 and 1998 South Carolina Triennial exhibitions at the South Carolina State Museum in Columbia; the 2011 exhibition Triennial Revisited and the 701 CCA South Carolina Biennial 2011 and 2013, all at 701 Center for Contemporary Art in Columbia; and Thresholds, a 2003 exhibition of Southeastern art dealing with religion and spirituality that traveled extensively throughout the Southeast. Lenzo’s work is in several museum collections, including at the South Carolina State Museum, the Mint Museum in Charlotte, N.C., and the Renwick Gallery at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington, D.C. His solo exhibitions include those at the Spartanburg (S.C.) Museum of Art, the European Ceramic Work Center in Den Bosch, The Netherlands, Great American Gallery in Atlanta and Ferrin Contemporary gallery in Massachusetts.

Lenzo and his work have been featured in numerous books, exhibition catalogues and articles about ceramic sculpture and Southern art. They include the Threshold catalogue, 500 Figures In Clay (2005), Robert Hunter’s Ceramics in America (2006) and Poetic Expressions of Mortality: Figurative Ceramics From the Porter–Price Collection (2006). He holds an MFA from Wayne State University in Detroit and used to teach at the University of South Carolina, Columbia. Joe Scotchie-Lenzo (b. 1996) has been making and selling ceramic sculptures off and on since he was four years old, although he hasn’t produced any in three years. One co-production with his dad is in the collection of the Smithsonian’s Renwick Gallery. One of his individual works is in the South Carolina State Museum collection. Scotchie-Lenzo is a native and resident of Columbia, where he is a business major with an interest in retail and clothing at the University of South Carolina.

June 5 – 27, 2015

Artist’s Reception: Friday, June 5, 6:00 – 9:00 p.m. Gallery Talk: Saturday, June 20, 2:00 pm

Gallery Hours: Weekdays, 11 a.m. – 7 p.m.; Saturdays, 11 a.m. – 5 p.m.; & by appointment

For more information, contact Wim Roefs at if ART: (803) 238-2351 – wroefs@sc.rr.com

if ART Gallery, 1223 Lincoln St., Columbia, SC 29201