What we do for art September 24, 2009

Word: A celebration of font and text

So I walked in to the IFCC today and the gallery is turned upside down.  Debris, boards, tape, TVs, giant word monsters bathed in glowing colored light,  nails, papers and in the middle a sad little pillow and blanket.  A sleepy vandal?  No.

One of the artists for our next exhibit had been up all night Tuesday along with Ryan our Artists Services Associate.

Back story:

There is this artist, Sol LeWitt, who created a writing system- he took all the letters and color coded them so that you can write in this psychotropic bar code.  I am sure there is a deep reason that hints at breaking down all language barriers and miscommunications that is sure to save the world, but the exhibit isn’t done yet so I am not sure what that is but the IFCC artist has a big book on it and it look s fascinating.  Anyway.

The IFCC artist took Sol’s essay- AND TRANSLATED INTO RAINBOW  BARCODE.  Now he is writing it on the full length of the Gallery’s back wall.  He had a one foot square done when I left Tuesday.  It was one sentence.  ONE.  He has made great progress but needless to say when you come to the Gallery opening Thursday night ( September 24 5:00-7:30) his installation will now also be a performance piece as he will most certainly still be working on it.  Slow Food Portland will be set up in the swell advice booth Ryan built- they are bringing a chef to help you figure out how to make a Ritz Cracker mock apple pie “Good Clean Fair food” All those recipes will be entered in our IFCC zine cook book available at our Wordstock event October 6.  Bring a tshirt to the opening and you can print a groovy design on it with Dirty Print Makers of America.  Food and wine and a good time will be had by all.   The debris and pillow will be cleaned up by then I am sure.

Pendleton our sister city in the East July 27, 2009

Pendleton young actors tear it up!

I must have been 4 years old but I remember sitting in this theater on the Oregon Coast. It had hard wooden flip up seats that were fun to rock and squeak. My beautiful sister in law was singing on stage. She was and is so pretty and her voice melts me to this day. I was ten years away from even realizing normal non singing folk could have place in the spot light. Years later after surrendering to a life on stage myself, I returned from New York only to find my brother had dragged my opera singing sister in law to Pendleton, Oregon. I can only imagine the culture shock.
About 15 years ago she and I decided to find a sneaky way to spend more time together and bring a little culture to the town. We devised a week long summer camp for kids, She taught the music and I taught acting and we put on a little play at the end of the week. She’ll take 10 kids and I’ll take 10 kids and we will swap them half way through the day. Neat! I get paid for visiting family. Easy peasy.
50 kids showed up.
We had no idea there would be that sort of response.
A few years later when my brother’s family moved from Pendleton to Montana I thought, “Well that’s that. No more driving to Pendleton in the heat.”
Let’s just say the parents and students made it very clear that this camp was far more important than any of my family ties to the place and no way, no how was I going to miss my week in 100+ heat with their fabulous children.
Again I was completely taken by surprise.
Since then Pendleton’s Blue Mountain Community College, the College Community Theater and IFCC have stepped up to create a wonderful little program. This was the first year I was not able to attend but let me tell you what I missed. 60 kids age 7-15 are put into ensemble casts paired with a professional performer/educator from IFCC. Mornings are spent working on short plays and afternoons are electives like Commedia Mask work, stage combat, poetry slam, and improvisation. Every year we focus on a different culture and we explore and perform their stores. They have performed tales form Japan, India, a Native American piece, Chinese minority cultures and this year we performed traditional African American tales. Over 250 people attended the performance Last Saturday at the lovely Blue Mountain Community College Theatre.
Every year several families open up their homes and invite all four of the IFCC teachers and our 2-3 interns to their homes for dinner. This year the Solkolofski family took the IFCC folks to a BBQ at the local water park. Pendleton is serious about their water parks even if it is on a small scale. And the whole town turns out. Our host family, the Zimmerman’s, who put us all up at their horse ranch for the week, took the crew up to their lake side mountain cabin one night. Jose at La Fiesta Restaurant bought everyone dinner for the 7th year in a row. There were underground tours (better than Portland’s, really!), a visit to the Native American Interpretive Center, the Farmers Market, late afternoons at Great Pacific (one of the BEST coffee and wine shops in the country) and our traditional closing toast in the middle of the wheat fields.
Most of all I missed working with the kids. They are one of the most exciting groups I work with all year. For many of them this is their only theater experience they will get all year. Some have no idea what the heck mom dropped them off at. They have no reference point at all for what we do. Regardless all of them rise to the occasion. We have kids who have attended for over ten years like this year’s intern Amy. We have even seen a student go off to college and complete a degree in technical theater. I remember this kid when he was a little freckle faced country boy. He is now all grown up with a career and family of his own. This Camp and this community really make me have a crush on small town America. The connections in the fabric are so clear. The treads run long. Regardless of any differences in political or personal perspectives Pendleton has been nothing but a warm welcome to the theatre weirdoes from Portland. It is as much camp for us as it is for these kids. I missed it dearly this year but am so pleased it has a life of its own.

Nirvana! Doh! May 27, 2009

I just returned from performing an improv show in LA. I was fortunate to work in an ensemble of folks like Saturday Night Live veteran Gail Matthias and voice over talent like Dan Castellaneta- who you may know better as the voice of Homer Simpson. And no he does not sound or look like that in person; he is a fine, very physical actor with a fantastic actor/producer/writer wife. The buzz at rehearsal was about Portland. The woman who voices the mom on American Dad said one of their head writers just came back from a four day vacation in Portland and couldn’t get over it. “The people are beautiful, it’s so green and the trees… Everything is so independent, so creative. All these mom an pop places, not all the chains like we get in LA. You gotta go- it’s nirvana” Two LA actors brought me the NY Times articles about “Frugal Portland”. This article highlights how comfortable it is to be broke in this town. I find that to be true. Some one is always holding an opening party, or brewing home made something or sharing too many beets they planted or in my case eggs from my backyard hens. I confirmed it for them. Yes, Portland is nirvana.

I am so proud to be from Portland. No more proud then right after my return from LA last Wednesday when I attended the City Council Budget hearing. I am proud that our local government is so accessible. Not only are creative folks from all walks of life invited to the table, we are given the charge to help build that table. We can participate in city meetings that are fair and accessible for all. We have great town halls like the recent one that addressed Portland’s creative capacity. Our city supports programs like the Right Brian Initiative which is working to ensure all our grade school kids will have access to programs and the arts. And the Creative Advocacy Network is leading the charge to have Portlanders recognize and support what folks all over the country already know. Even Homer Simpson. Portland is a creative nirvana and our economic strength can be built on the backs of new and truly innovative work and the diversity it engenders.

So at this budget meeting I said thank you. Thank you City Council for recognizing the value of the arts in creating Portland’s unique fabric. Thank you for supporting organizations like the Regional Arts and Culture Council so that artists will continue to have support in the creation of new and exciting work. And thanks especially for the commitment to fostering diversity in the arts through restoring IFCC’s funding and continuing a 27 year history of public/private partnership. Mayor Adams announced at the hearing that through the hard work of Commissioner Fish this time IFCC’s funding is ongoing.

What that means is you may not have to hear from me next year when I would normally scramble to rally the troops to fight for our relationship with the city. It means IFCC can plan ahead having more knowledge about its budget expectations. Over the years IFCC has reduced its support from the City from about 90% to just 30% of our total income. We have found ways to diversify our income stream and become a healthy organization.

This health is due to you, our champions and supporters. So I say thank you to you too. With your support and the support of our wonderful City, IFCC continues its promise to serve Portland by nurturing diverse artists of all backgrounds. IFCC will make sure their stories are heard and that we all have a place at the creative table.

Where’d she go? March 20, 2009

Yes I hit the ground running with this blog and then did a face plant. It all started with the Biblical flu. You know the one. The historic one that wiped out thousands of people at the turn of some other century. The plaqueish one. I had thought it was pure myth and history. I was forced to bow down to the flu. I have been schooled.

So when your colleagues bemoan being out with the flu- give them wide berth. You do not want to go there. And for those few who cry flu like the boy cried wolf? Beware. You saw where that got Portland this winter with snow, yes? “Oh it’s snowing we have to close everything!” we whined as a light sparkle dusted the city- then whoomp! Schooled! Nature said, “You say snow? Now THIS is snow!” And there went Christmas. And practically Valentines Day. I am crossing my fingers for Easter.

Just as I recouped from snow and sickness, a few other things set in. IFCC was “ not included” in the City budget after a 26 year history of inclusion. I am told this does not mean it is cut. Just not included. The troops are rallying, the letters are pouring in to the Mayor as IFCC (and my) future rests in his hands. You can find out more in this article that just came out today on the Mercury blog.

And there has been happy things happening too. Another article came out today about me and chickens.

Just like an all weather day in Portland. Good and bad all at once. We are having one today- The fog parted enough for the rain to pour down but that got driven away by the hail which was highlighted by the simultaneous shining sun. As I wrote that last sentence we have moved in to a quick sun break before the inky clouds roll in.

That’s life I suppose. Good and bad all at once.

Whats stopping your creativity? February 8, 2009

What could keep me in a dark room on such a glorious sunny day? The riveting story of Edna Guy and the development of the African America Modern Dance movement. I didn’t mean to watch the whole thing but I couldn’t help myself. Ms. Guy is an inspiration in artistry and determination as well as self esteem. Where is she in our history books? This hour long video is free on the web.

Edna Guy inspires more than contemporary dance.

http://blackpublicmedia.org/catalog/prod/14

What happens when gays are excluded from the Boy Scouts February 2, 2009

Boyscouts

Saturday I had an all day IFCC Board retreat to be followed by seeing CoHo Theatre’s Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune followed by seeing a friend’s band.  I rushed home to grab 30 minutes sleep between the meeting and the evening’s events.  Randy-the-neighbor-boy was zipping up and down the street on a mini motorcycle my Barbies would have killed for. Chasing him was the new kid from down the street. I will call him Freckle-face-pyro-boy.

15 minutes into my sleep I am dimly aware of the boys voices coming from between our houses- right beneath my window. Randy-the-neighbor-boy is a good an 11 year old as you could ever want to know. I am determined to get my full 30 minutes sleep.

20 minutes into my sleep tiny boy voices rise in pitch and begin to sound like panicked, conspiratorial parrots. I am determined to get my full 30 minutes sleep.

5 minutes shy of my goal the stomping ensues. I throw open my window and through a choking billow of smoke that promptly gets sucked into my house I see two boys attacking a growing fire like crazed Irish step dancers. “Randy! What! Are! You! Doing!” As if it is not clear that they are creating a fire pit in the 8 foot area between our houses.

Freckle-face-pyro-boy takes off running.  Randy goes into “hide evidence mode” and begins to place himself on the fire as if to hide it.  More yelling.  This time from both of us. Fortunately the kid didn’t catch fire as that would have called for me to do much more than lean out my window and yell at him. Freckle-face-pyro-boy was eventually rounded up and he assisted Randy in putting out the fire with several bowls of water from the neighbor’s kitchen. I failed to remember that there was a hose on the side of my house not 4 feet from the fiasco. Maybe it was because I was distracted as I realized a hobo’s nest had been created in my bushes.

It was a small, multilevel abode with fronds of every last fern used to create a sort of tiki thatch roof. Randy assured me my husband gave him permission to do this. While it is quite possible The Husband could have granted said zoning, I highly doubt he would have given the building permit for the thatch roof. Especially since he complained over the purchase of something you could dig up in the woods for free.

I ordered the boys to clean up every last bit of the mess. Well, actually, I told them to, “Make it look like the landscapers came!”. I don’t know if they knew what that means but I knew no landscaper had ever touched that side yard and now may be my only chance. I leaned out the window watching with the satisfaction of a Brooklyn Brownstone housewife.

In the gathering darkness I noticed a light in the holly tree. “You guys could see better if you used the flashlight you left in the tree.” I said. “Oh naw”, Randy said, diligently working away, “That’s not a flash light. That’s a candle.” “You put a candle I the tree?! That’s fire! You put fire in the tree!” “No we didn’t.”, said the defiant Freckle-face-pyro-boy, “It’s a candle, not fire.” Add eye roll. How I did not come flying out of the window to throttle them I do not know. The side yard was starting to really shape up which may have been part of it. I explained for the entire metropolitan area- how a candle IS fire. How that one little flame could have burnt down our homes and killed me in my sleep. They were unimpressed. So I pulled up some of my Mother’s Expert-Catholic-Guilt-Skills and laid into a detailed account of how they could have killed the most perfect of all creatures Flagger the Dog. Eyes welled, the candle went out, and they finished raking every last leaf in the dark.

“I am sorry” is really not yet an intuitive part of an 11 year old boy’s vocabulary. I know that but in the interests of processing the event I invite them in to “work this out”. They look like they are entering the lair of the wicked witch of the west. They are. I provide them a platform to share their feelings. After all I have been sharing mine for the past hour. I think the whole neighborhood is clear on my feelings. Of course their words don’t come but their body language screams out on their behalf. Freckle-face-pyro-boy is embarrassed and humiliated. Embarrassed and humiliated for get caught, clearly. The devilish twinkle still sparks in his averted eyes. Randy-the-neighbor-boy eyes, however, remained locked on mine. Brimming and red, he is broken hearted. This is the first bump our friendship has ever hit in three years of sledding, planting gardens, ice cream, movies and laughs. Our trust is broken and I say so. I also let him know that it is not broken forever that these things heal with effort and time.

I launch into fire 101. Randy has two wonderful dads. By age 8 Randy was comfortable ordering off the menu at any fine restaurant. He can be taken to the hippest event and carry himself with composure. He is never board or restless. His Dad’s balance this sophistication with a shared obsessive interest in football and other sports. Dirt bikes, video games, matchbox cars. But never has this “boys boy”, this kind, rough and tumble kid been near the Boy Scouts. Instead I become an unofficial den mother unwillingly burdened with handing out the fire safety badge. After the long lesson Randy has only one quiet question. He raises his red swollen eyes, “So when can you take me camping?”.

Facets of Africa at IFCC January 31, 2009

I love this photo of musician Caton Lyles. Such a powerful performer. He is a founding performer of the story telling series at the IFCC. One day I over heard Caton and Habiba- another force of nature- teasing each other. He was saying she got her spirited, vocal presence from her Ghanaian roots. She was saying how he was probably Senegalese decent- things like that when I realized I dont hear enough about the diversity with in African based cultures. Usually its an Anasi story and a djembe drum- tadah! Africa!

I created the Facets of Africa program to highlight the richness of the many different heritages on that great continent. There are Tuesday and Thursday story telling matinees in the theatre. This year we have brought an amazing contemporary artist from Kenya to present work in the Gallery. Gorgeous. On Saturday the 21^st at 1:00 you can meet the Artist Jacob and hear his amazing story along with the Facets of Africa story tellers. See you there!

http://www.ifccarts.org/calendar/?date=2009+02+21

Caton Lyles in IFCC Facets of Africa