Friday, July 20, 2018

Heal Your Ears, Fill Your Cup


Tuesday night I headed out to the inaugural Heal Your Ears Music and Wellness Festival at one of my favorite local haunts: the IndyHostel. The event featured four bands and two guest speakers plus a dozen or so local vendors of locally sourced food, wellness services, and fine arts.

I’ve seen more deserve-to-be-famous singers in its cozy lounge and rustic outdoor venue than you can shake a stick at! (My dad tells me that is a lot, because if you can’t even shake a stick at something, then there must not be very much of it. You’re welcome.) Although I’ve enjoyed probably fifty indie music and art shows there since 2007, I haven’t been in a few years, and I’ve been feeling a void lately. You get a special sense of harmony and community and generosity at this venue that you just can’t get at stadiums and bars.


Enter Derek Weaver, health educator and founder of Heal Your Disease wellness cooperative, who organized the event. I learned about the concert via the page of singer Gayle Skidmore, now of The Netherlands, who last performed in Indy at the Beat Lounge, and who met Weaver when he operated the boards at one of her concerts in San Diego.


A few years back, I was a producer for a not-for-profit intimate listening room venue called The Beat Lounge, which happened to be in the attic of my home. Our motto was “for your art & soul,” and in addition to poetry readings and concerts, we also hosted yoga classes.  I held some thirty shows over the course of three years for singers from all over the U.S. plus a few from Canada, Zimbabwe, and Ireland. Jascha Is played what turned out to be his last show at The Beat Lounge along with Troubadours of Divine Bliss, and the performance still haunts me: He was not long for this world.


At the time I was also writing concert reviews for No Depression and now defunct Mission Intrigue: Indy. Here’s what I learned about writing about concerts: it’s tedious. Here’s what I learned about reading concert reviews: even tedious-er. Unless something really cool happens, like a raccoon family jumps from the perimeter wall onto the stage and starts scurrying about and scaring the band members who haven’t had their rabies shots, which has happened at the Indy Hostel, then it’s like reading a play-by-play recounting of a sportsketball game. I fully accept the probability that I just don’t know how to write concert reviews.


What I want to write reads more like a journal entry of how the music made me feel, and I’m not convinced that’s good reading for people who aren’t me. My advice is to get out there and experience live music, somewhere besides Let’s Just Call It Deer Creek and Be Done With It or the Venue that Should Still Be Known as The Murat. If anything I have ever written inspires people to check out bands they’ve never heard of, well then I am an excellent concert reviewer afterall.


If the music is good, I go through many emotions and contemplations, and, it is hoped, enlightenment. I’ll be on my feet one minute dancing, and on my keister the next, blown over by some simple rhyming wisdom with a beautiful melody. Such was the case at the Heal Your Ears Music Fest, and it was my privilege to have a perfect seat under that old cherry tree whose branches provide the perfect anchor for the rudimentary stage lighting. It’s always been about the music for me. Lights and effects are just there to fill up emptiness.


The world is full of emptiness. Kind of an oxymoron, but it’s true. Maybe it’s better to say that life is full of emptiness, and this is precisely why Weaver took this risk of hosting a free music and wellness festival in a little known venue on a Tuesday night without benefit of advertising. The bands and the speakers donated their time. The vendors offered discounts and free samples, plus free massages and Reiki sessions. It seems a lot of people think the world could use a little healing right now.


On the concert line-up were two popular local bands, Cyrus Youngman and the Kingfishers and Sarah Grain and the Billions of Stars, and two touring acts: The Hope Griffin Duo of Asheville, NC, and Gayle Skidmore, currently of Amsterdam. Speakers included Greg Monzel, recently featured on WFYI, a nutritionist and educator at Good Earth in Broad Ripple, and Wendell Fowler, recently featured on WISH, a local chef and best-selling author of the book Eat Right Now.


Here’s what some other writers had to say about the bands. I think they say it better than I can. Unless otherwise noted, I don’t know the names of the writers.


The Hope Griffin Duo invites you to be a part of their musical
journey down roads both familiar and new. Alaska-born singer-songwriter Hope Griffin is on the road in 2018, promoting her latest full length album release "Where the Soil & the Stars Meet." She is joined by long-term bandmate and remarkably talented cellist Jamie Leigh Bennett to offer you a show that soulfully fuses acoustic guitar, cello, and angelic harmonies together to provide their own stirring Folk/Americana originals. Well known for her free spirited stage presence, velvety vocals, and heart wrenching ballads, this talented act is ready to share with you own, fresh contributions to the singer-songwriter conversation. www.hopegriffinmusic.com


Sarah Grain & The Billions of Stars: Listening to Sarah Grain & the Billions of Stars, you may pick up hints of folk, bossa nova, rock, americana or jazz. Their sound is finely textured with thoughtful instrumentation, rich vocal layering and harmonies, and is rooted by Grain's well-crafted lyrics and storytelling. Grasping you, these songs will get into your head and have you singing to yourself the next day. They released their first full-length album, ‘Something Wild’, in 2017, and perform every fourth Tuesday night of the month at The Chatterbox Jazz Club.


Cyrus Youngman and the Kingfishers: An intelligent, enthusiastic, wildly optimistic fellow, Youngman’s charisma is inescapable when you step in front of him and watch him lead the Kingfishers.”  -Donovan Wheeler from Nuvo


Gayle Skidmore: Seven-time San Diego Music Award nominee Gayle Skidmore has written over 2000 songs since she began songwriting at the age of 8. Her natural ability and innate passion for music made her music career inevitable, and her tumultuous life has given her plenty of inspiration. Translating her experiences into song has been more than just personally fulfilling. After winning Best Singer-Songwriter in the 2013 San Diego Music Awards, Best Pop Album for “Sleeping Bear” in 2014, and Best Pop in 2015, Gayle moved abroad to The Netherlands where she won De Beste Singer-Songwriter van het Groene Hart in 2017. Classically trained on the piano from the age of 4, Gayle Skidmore also plays over 20 other instruments, including the mountain dulcimer, banjo, folk harp and balalaika.





Now, here’s my self-indulgent concert review.


Hope Griffin’s voice could give you whiplash. You’re sitting there checking out the people and goings on, but when her voice comes over the mic, you whip your head around to see what is making that enchanting sound. Add Jamie Leigh’s cello, (did you know that it is believed that the cello is the closest sounding instrument to the human voice?) and you will enter the wonderful world of Right Where You Are Right at This Moment. Hope gave us a smattering of songs about a life that is foreign and exotic--one lived in Alaska. From fisherman ballads to what she loved to call “Dusty Westerns,” she reminded us through her songs, "You never know what someone is going through. We humans have a knack for hiding it pretty well.”


Sarah Grain brought an unexpected element to this music festival: children, and lots of 'em. Turns out, the parents of these children have helped her raise her own. There’s something about a woman artist who is also a mother--I don’t know if there’s anything more beautiful or feminine than a woman who fully pursues artistic passions while raising children. I will probably get in trouble for god knows what from god knows who for saying that, but this is my opinion. I mean it: go get your own if you don’t like mine!

Sarah teaches at the White Pines Wilderness Academy in my favorite neighborhood,  Rocky Ripple, and her dedication to finding herself as an artist in nature informed most of her delightful stage banter. (Some singers over-banter, and some don’t do enough. For an intimate performance, singers, I beseech you, if it’s special to you, share it.) Here’s some gems I jotted down between snapping pictures and checking out the unbridled energy of children in the company of other children in an outdoor setting without electronic devices: “When I walked a mile for what felt like fifteen years.”  “Living somewhere near the truth.”


Cyrus and the Kingfishers: “If you don’t like where you are, then I suggest that you hit the road.” Cyrus: thank you. Typical of a band of dudes in their twenties, the drummer forgot about the gig or had another gig or fell asleep--something like that. Not one to waste people’s time, Cyrus tossed a mound of percussion instruments on the stage and asked the children to play their hearts out. Who is this musical Messiah who lives the creed: “let the little children come to me?” He’s a lanky rocker in skinny jeans and captain’s hat who burns 5000 calories per show, and who writes some truly thoughtful lyrics and tells modern day fairy tales in the form of something like rock music. I won’t say that it was a good idea to give seven kids under the age of seven these instruments, but I will say it was the right idea. I know it wasn’t meant to be a teaching moment, but what a moment it was to see the kids rush the stage awestruck that they got to be part of the show. How can you not love a band who is so inclusive and so willing to be in the moment? Here’s something else I loved about the Kingfishers, and this is no disrespect to anyone else in the band, but they have a keyboardist (and an electric mandolin player). I’m not one to say what is rock and what is not rock, but in my book, if you bring in a keyboardist, you bring in credibility and class.


Gayle Skidmore: Gayle was the reason I attended. By the time she took the stage, more than half the audience had left because it was literally way past their bedtime, and they took their parents with them. The rest of the crowd was so hyped up on the nuclear half life of energy that is Cyrus Youngman that you could barely hear her over the din of excitement. My heart sank a little that people were going to miss a true nightingale. I should have known better. Gayle knows how to work a crowd. The trick is to get them to move closer. How does she does this? She says,  “Hey, how about everyone move in a little closer?” And they do. She co-opts us to be her back-up, she has us singing like a choir. She does magical things with her voice and about seven instruments, some of which even the Kingfishers had never heard of. Among others, she sang for us her new song “No Ordinary Life,” which will be featured in the movie “Little Women.” Here’s a video of her gorgeous ballad Pale Ghosts that she recently filmed in Amsterdam on a canal in a borrowed boat.  


Pictures are worth a thousand words. They say it better than I can.


Hope to see you next year at Heal Your Ears Music and Wellness Festival!




My favorite photo of the night!
















Assistant Emily and her friend volunteer to run the merch table.



Derek's parents run the raffle.






Hope Griffin and Jamie Leigh usher in a beautiful evening with songs about life on the water, and a feisty woman named Lola in a "Dusty Western."







I always loved the fire ring at Indy Hostel!


Cyrus and the Kingfishers were happy to offer their merch "pay what you can, even if it's nothing." I saw a dog wearing one of their shirts later. I think he paid for it with a doggy kiss!







You know those coloring books for adults that are so popular now? Gayle started that. Seriously. All of her CDs come with coloring books of her own drawings. 




Greg Monzel talks about the complexity/simplicity of plant life and why the farther our food gets from the Earth, the more unhealthy we will become. Great talk!


That big tree above the stage is a wild cherry tree, and that is poetry to me.


Greg points out the nutrition offered by the common Hackberry tree, which is in the Cannabis family, and I didn't hear anything he said after that for some reason.



Sarah talks about nature defining her art. And about taking her kids to Brazil! Lucky kids!








Gayle watches Hope Griffin Duo. Later Hope Griffin Duo showed huge support for Gayle as the crowds waned.










Chef/Author Wendell Fowler recounts his past as "300 lbs. of gelantinous goo" and knocking on death's door before healing himself with wholesome food.




This man sat like this for nearly an hour. Talk about healthy knees!



If there are dogs, I will photograph them.




The kids lent their bubble-making machine for "special effects." Hug hit!


The drummer finally arrives.


The world could use a little more brotherly love and expression of affection.

Gayle takes the stage.




Gayle closes the night with an unplugged (due to neighborhood ordinances) version of "All My Life" with the audience serving as back-up choir.


This artist had beautiful pottery and big brass bowl that you stand in while someone gongs it. 


Derek gives free Reiki demos!


Smoothie bar!










Students and teacher at The White Pines Wilderness Academy
















Sunday, April 8, 2018

είναι η άγκυρα Be the anchor. (We are in Greece!)

We got behind on our blog project. We've been busy seeing new places and meeting friendly faces, but we haven't been recording our experiences and interactions.

So, we're not really in Greece right now, but we were about a year and a half ago!

We visited Corfu, the Peloponnese peninsula, Santorini, Athens, and finished with four nights on a beachfront cabana on the quiet island of Paros, post-tourist season, zipping around on a motorcyle, risking our lives.

Let's talk about two perfect strangers we met first in Olympia then a few days later on a gondola in Santorini. Picture a "seasoned" couple, probably in their 80s. The man looks like Abe Vigoda. He wears a blazer with elbow patches and a Homburg hat, uses a cane, and walks doubled over from what appears to be severe kyphosis, also known as hunch back. "Abe" was struggling to get up some steep ancient stone stairs at the site of the first Olympics: Olympia. He tested the bricks a few times looking for a safe place to anchor his cane, his wife trying to help him to no avail.

I reached out my hand to him, not knowing if such a gesture is rude in Greek culture.  He frowned at my hand then at me. I smiled, and re-extended my hand; his eyes softened, and a smile lit up his face. He took my hand in faith, unsure if I'd be a dependable spotter. 

I have some experience in helping seasoned persons get around. Here's the trick. You put your hand or arm out and hold it steady. Don't grab their arm or hand, and don't try to hoist them. Let them do the hoisting. You be the anchor. 

I held my hand out firmly, and he hoisted himself up then said, "Thank you, young lady." I detected a New York accent. 

His wife stood on the bottom step, looking fretful about the climbing the steps. I held out my hand, and she knew just what to do.

I spent the rest of my time in Olympia on the look out for this "cute little old couple." In a museum, I heard a tour guide apologizing to her group that they had to move slowly so the elderly couple could keep up. 

I was a butt-inski and spoke for the group: "It's no trouble at all."

If you saw them, you might be tempted to say, "They are so cute." You would literally say, "Awww..." It's what I did: they fascinated and inspired me. They were an elderly--let's say "seasoned" couple in their 80s, traveling the world. You could say that physically, the odds were stacked against them. Yet here they were, determined to walk through the fabled panoramio, the arch leading to the first Olympic race track.


Panoramio
Site of first Olympics
Olympia, Greece

Image result for panoramio olympia

But "awww..." isn't really a term of inspiration, is it? In fact, it could even be a bit insulting. Would  you like someone to look at you struggling to get up some steps and say, "awwww...."? I sure wouldn't. Yet there I was.

Fast forward a couple of days later, and I see them in line for a gondola headed back to Fira on the island of Santorini. We ambled through the crowd and managed to get a place next to them. A word about Santorini. It is nothing but vertical, winding treacherous steps. This couple "with the odds stacked against them" made it just fine. 

They remembered us from a few days earlier, and we got to talking. This was their third such trip. The previous year they went to China. They travel with Viking Cruises because they get excellent service and tours.

He introduced himself, "I'm Phillip." His wife spoke up, "And I'm Muriel, but you can call me 'Mim.'"

Phillip and Mim have lived in Manhattan their entire lives. 

They work in the same building.

They still work? I thought to myself incredulously.

"I'm a corporate litigator," Phillip offered.

"I'm a psychoanalyst," Mim informed us.

They worked in the same office building when they met some sixty years ago, and now in their 80s, they work in the same building again, which is just across the street from their apartment.

Right about now, I felt like a real schmo for thinking them as being "cute." I suddenly pictured Phillip taking down IBM. I pictured Mim profiling a serial killer. 

Years ago, I was in a play, and my parents came to see it. A member of the cast later said to me, "Awww, your parents are so cute and little and old."

I got mad on all three counts. My parents are none of those. How dare he. (They are both 5'3", but they are not small, if you catch my meaning.)

So how dare did I?

I don't want anyone ever calling me cute.

So here's some advice for me and for you. Extend a hand. Be an anchor.

But keep your "awwwws" to yourself.


*******************************************
A note on talking to Perfect Strangers

In some ways, I find it easier to talk to strangers than to people I actually know, which is how I started this blog in the first place.

But interviewing Perfect Strangers is a bit different.

We've had mixed reactions from people. Some people can't wait to tell their story, while others can't figure out why we'd care. Some people we can't rid of, and some people can't get away from us fast enough. Is there something voyeuristic about this venture?

We've found that 100 percent guaranteed, artists, especially performing artists, want to talk about themselves. This is why we wound up with a disproportionate number of stories about artists. I love talking to artists, so it's a win for me, but there is no lack of public conversation about artists, is there?

But loving what you do, no matter what you do, is an art form too. Whether it be  painting, writing, acting, traveling, litigating, psychoanalyzing, gardening, running, hiking, star-gazing, sheep herding. We are drawn to people who are loving what they're doing.

Phillip & Mim seemed like perfect candidates with the perfect story. But we were so caught up in actually engaging with them that we forgot to chronicle it. And that's the paradox of social media: Chronicling an experience often occludes the experience itself.

I'd love to have a photo of Phillip and Mim. I enjoyed talking to them, and I appreciate the lesson they inadvertently taught me. One of these days, we're going to figure this out. Engage and chronicle and share. And not scaring our Perfect Strangers with our peculiar hobby!

We are Xenophiliacs and love to travel. We've been all over the world and should have been writing about our experiences. We write these stories to share, but really, its most useful purpose is to help us remember why we love it. Art is love. Love is art. 

If you write about something, you experience three times: First, when it's happening. Second, when you're writing about it. Third, when you read it again months or years later. It lives eternally. 

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Disputed Play Makes Indy Premiere at OnyxFest

Three years ago, local playwright Lillie Evans was days from opening her new play about the life of Thomas Dorsey, a blues artist who became the Father of Gospel music in the 1930s, when she received a cease-and-desist letter from a grandson of the late Dorsey. Not prepared for the costs of a legal battle, Evans gave up her slot at OnyxFest, the annual theater festival for African American voices, sponsored by IndyFringe.


While IndyFringe investigated the validity of the cease-and-desist letter, Evans took time to reflect why she felt more relief than sorrow in pulling the show. “At first, I thought it was just a lack of confidence, but deep down I knew the play needed more work,” Evans explained. She put the script away to work on other projects, but her thoughts kept returning to it.

Years earlier, a local church had commissioned Evans to write a play about Thomas Dorsey.  “At first, I didn’t want to do it. I thought it would be boring! But when I learned that he had originally been a blues artist—that got my attention! How did someone go from being a blues artist—he was known as Georgia Tom on the blues circuit—to becoming the Father of Gospel Music? You see back in the 1920s, even up through the 1940s, Gospel music was very different than it is today. It was very staid, very traditional. There was no rhythm or enthusiasm and not even a hint of jazz—churches thought jazz was sacrilege! The more I learned about him, the more I knew that his story needed to be told,” the playwright offered.

Evans knows a little something about compelling stories. She and long-time friend Crystal Rhodes have published four mystery-comedies about a trio of retired grandmothers who solve a murder then go on to open their own private detective agency. The first book in that series, Grandmothers, Incorporated, was adapted for the stage and produced by the Billie Holiday Theater and enjoyed a twelve-week run off-Broadway. Their play Stakeout, was a top-seller at IndyFringe 2014.

Once Evans received the legal parameters of writing the Dorsey play, she revised the script to include a character who provides insight into Dorsey and some much-needed comic relief. “This is a heavy play. I created a character who hung out at nightclubs.” Her diligence paid off: the updated script was an official selection of the 2017 National Black Theater Festival produced biannually in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.

Evans described her experience at the festival with delight.

“My script was one of the forty selected of the 160 submitted plays. Except I didn’t know I had been selected until a few days before the festival! My writing partner, Crystal, had been selected, and I was so happy for her, but also sad that I wouldn’t be going. But then I got an email about the logistics of the festival, so I called them and learned that my notification was never sent. I asked local director Deborah Asante to direct, and the three of us went to North Carolina together. At this festival, you pick your director, then the director picks from a pool of professional actors. Deborah has always been great at selecting just the right person. The stickler was that the playwrights had to get their own audiences, so I hit the streets hard, talking to people about my show. It was exhausting, but it paid off. Audiences responded very well to it! After my play was done, we got to see other shows. We got to see the city. We saw the site of one of the first lunch-counter protests of the Civil Rights Movement. And at the end of the festival, the whole city came together, and they had a parade of playwrights and performers, marching about ten blocks through the city with bands and everything, New Orleans-style!” 

Satisfied with the response to her updated script, Evans once again submitted the script, now titled Take My Hand (A Blues Man’s Path to Gospel), to her hometown festival--OnyxFest, where it will be featured along with several other original plays, culminating March 29-31 at The IndyFringe Theater.

Born and raised in Indianapolis, Evans grew up on the East side, attending Arsenal Tech High School, a school she loves to this day. She went on to attend Indiana Central College, now known as the University of Indianapolis, and got a degree from the Indiana Institute of Technology. Before retiring, Evans was a district manager at the U.S. Postal Service.

Although Evans is retired and a grandmother herself, she explained that her books are based on her mother. “A long time ago, her niece went missing, and unhappy with how the authorities were handling the case, she literally put on a trench coat—I mean she actually wore a trench coat, like Columbo! She went around interviewing everyone. She was getting information no one else could get. She worked in government and just had connections. She did wind up finding her niece, but to this day no one knows how she did it.

“When I started writing the first book, I showed part of it to my friend Crystal. She read it and said, “This book needs to be a comedy! So, we started writing together.” Rhodes and Evans met at Arsenal Tech, by the way.

When not writing plays and books, Evans says she likes going to plays. "To relax, I like to go Holliday Park, but I don’t do that very often. I need a more serene life. So far, it’s not working at all! My children tell me I don’t know the fine art of retirement.” 

Evans prefers travel over relaxing. Her favorite destinations include Grand Cayman and the Grand Canyon, and later this year she has a trip planned to Mackinac Island.

Evans has enjoyed her tenure at OnyxFest this year and knows that pulling the play was the right decision three years ago. She had a full house on opening night last weekend, and the snowstorm the following day didn’t deter audiences.

She might not understand the fine art of retirement, but she certainly understands the fine art of entertaining! Welcome home, Lillie!


The cast and crew of Take My Hand gather around the piano during rehearsal.

Top L to R:  Myron El, Nicole Beverly, Henry S. Carter
Bottom L to R:  Carmen Batts-Porter, Joshua Owens, Lillie Evans, playwright; and Tamara Breeding-Goode, director.  Not pictured: Kevin Getter.

According to the IndyFringe website, OnyxFest was developed in response to the lack of diversity both on stage and in audiences of Indianapolis' theatres. IndyFringe actively embraces diversity in the Indianapolis theatre scene and began working with African American playwrights to change the Indianapolis theatrical landscape.

This year’s entries include:

Dear Bobby: The Musical Playwright: Angela Jackson Brown Lyrics: Music: Peter Davis
Judith Rosenstein and Annabelle Strong are two twelve-year-old girls from opposite sides of Indianapolis but their stories are similar. Both girls are growing up without their mothers and both have two very loving fathers and brothers. This play explores the very real struggles and successes of the Jewish community and the black community to unite as one in Indianapolis during this time. It explores in a larger scope, the tumultuous times everyone was living through as they watched in horror the assassination of their leaders.
Thursday Mar 29th, 7:00PM
Friday Mar 30th, 7:30PM
Saturday Mar 31st, 5:00PM

Take My Hand (A Blues Man’s Path to Gospel) Playwright: Lillie Evans
Thomas Dorsey, a self-confident composer and self-taught pianist is determined to make his mark. In his early twenties he was well on his way to being one of the most prolific composer in blues history and was sought after by some of the top blues artist of his time. But, what's gospel have to do with it? His vision is to marry church music with blues rhythms—it was called gospel. Pressured by those around him, he is unable to choose between the blues he loves and the secular music he was striving to change. The answer comes at a heavy price but heralds a song that anointed Dorsey as the “father of gospel music.”
Saturday Mar 31st, 3:00PM
Saturday Mar 31st, 7:30PM

Forever Moore  Playwright: Lanetta Overton
The holidays are quickly approaching, and the Moore family is planning to visit with one another. Ruby and Michael are anticipating the arrival of their three beloved sons. Tyrique is the eldest son, he is a lawyer who has worked hard to make partner at Lax and Chism Law firm. He’s in the right business, but he may soon need a lawyer of his own. Trent is the middle son who is currently in his last year at Notre Dame, his passion is football, but he has a love for something else which could lead to his demise. Lastly, the youngest son Jywan is a military man that has not always had a voice, but is in desperation of trying to be heard. The Moore’s will share more than good food and laughs over the holiday. It’s time for this family to show they will be there for one another despite the odds they may face.
Thursday 29th, 7:00pm 
Friday, 30th, 7:00pm

All shows are $12/$15 and will be performed at the IndyFringe Theater.