atlanta’s national black arts festival kicks off next week

Only a few more days before the 22nd National Black Arts Festival begins! Well, technically, the festival never ends since it’s a year-round celebration of arts and culture across the African Diaspora. But from July 14-18, we’ll be treated to a concentrated dose of all that the NBAF has to offer.

The NBAF is always a highlight of Atlanta’s summer festival season with a myriad of music and theater performances, workshops, films, and educational programs that allow Atlantans and visitors from all around the globe to see, taste, hear, and feel the work of artists and artisans that have shaped and continue to influence Black culture.

Centennial Olympic Park will once again be the summer festival’s home base of operations, with Main Stage performances by Afro-Brazilian percussion group, Olodum,  Atlanta’s own DJ Kemit, and Roy Ayers with the Common Ground Collective. Several other events – film screenings, dance and theater performances, visual arts displays, and more - will occur at locations around the city. Many of the events are absolutely free to the public, while others offer some very affordable options if you’re looking for things to do on a sweltering Atlanta weekend.

Visit the NBAF’s website for a complete schedule of events or download this handy Excel schedule of 2010 NBAF events that you can sort by date, event type, and price (alternate link for those without Excel).

see you at the festival,

k

film opening: joan rivers – a piece of work at landmark theatre midtown

Mouthy, brash, funny women are my role models (I doubt you are suprised by this news). And if there’s anyone who is the poster child for mouthy, brash, funny women it’s Joan Rivers. A couple of weeks ago I caught a piece about Joan Rivers on CBS Sunday Morning. The brief but thorough biography revealed a whole ‘nother side of the loudmouthed comedian that surprised me and inched her up a notch on my personal admiration scale.  The segment accurately portrayed Rivers as a self-made entertainer who studied under Margaret Mead, survived a spouse who commited suicide, was whitelisted and subsequently blacklisted by Johnny Carson, and – suprisingly enough – has a sensitive, vulnerable side that is masked her characteristically tough exterior.

Have a look for yourself:

Watch CBS News Videos Online

This Friday, a documentary about the life of Joan Rivers, entitled Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, opens in Atlanta at Landmark Theatres Midtown Arts Cinema. The film “exposes the private dramas of this irreverent, legendary comedian as she fights to keep her career thriving in a business driven by youth and beauty”.  It’s sure to be a fitting tribute to brash broads everywhere.

cheers,

k

Landmark Theatres Midtown Arts Cinema
931 Monroe Drive
Atlanta, GA 30308
(678) 495-1424

shifting into manic with atlanta photographer gudrun stone

Gudrun (pronounced: ‘good-drun’) Stone continues to build a reputation for herself as a rising star in Atlanta’s artist community. She excels at capturing the energy and passion of stage and concert performances – Van Hunt, Brittany Bosco, and countless visiting artists at the annual National Black Arts Festival have all found themselves in front of her lens. Her first solo photography exhibit – Long Exposures, which debuts at the Ferst Center on April 11 – is just another milestone on her journey of evolution as an artist, and a multi-faceted human being.  

I sat down with Gudrun to talk about the upcoming exhibit and to get some insight into what helps her bring her visions to life on film.  

---

 
So tell me a little about yourself. Where you’re from, about your brothers and sisters, your criminal record and things like that. 
I’m a real live Georgia peach. I grew up off McAfee and Glenwood. My Grandpa used to own the corner store near East Lake Elementary. We moved to North Dekalb in 1985. My grandmothers still live near East Atlanta Village, so I still say I’m from Decatur.  

Art comes from my mother – she’s one of 9 kids and each one has an artistic avenue. We ‘downloaded’ that through good DNA. Mom raised us in museums. She did interior decorating, too. So, color came to me at a very young age.
My parents became non-traditional students. And when they went back to college, I went with them. I say that I went to college my whole life. I grew up in the art department of the school, listened to WCLK, Ken Rye, Ken Batie – all of them growing up.  

The surprising thing is that I’m not a painter or graphic designer. I started doodling and even designed my own comic strip. I used to draw on myself. I would sit in class all day and draw, and when I ran out of sketch pad paper I drew on my wrists, my ankles.  

And then in my early 20s I just stopped everything and I worked.
  

What kind of work did you do?
I’ve been in public service my whole career. I was a page for Dekalb county public library system, and I was a photography assistant for the Governor’s office for 1.5 years. 
  

So how did you get your start with photography? Was that your first run in?
Oh, my dad took pictures of everything. At Thanksgiving dinner he took pictures – and not just pictures of us at the table. Pictures of the food, you know, moving it around to shoot it just right. Both of my parents were very detail-oriented about what they did. My dad would experiment taking pictures of me on different settings – light, dark. The internship just sort of fell into my lap.  

But you asked about brothers and sisters? I have an older brother, Thelonious – named after the monk, not the musician. Both of us were musicians growing up. I had a sort of a hero complex. We didn’t go to school at the same time, but my brother had been a musician in high school – you know jazz band and all that – and sort of became big man on campus. So by the time I got there, he wasn’t there anymore, but the people who knew him sort of took me under their wing. I didn’t get into art until my junior year. But it was good that I followed in my brother’s footsteps. Music is a part of the art for me.  

  

Your name is pretty unique. Is there a meaning behind the name?
My father named me. My father was drafted for Vietnam, but he never made it, he was stationed in Germany. He took the opportunity to learn as much as he could about the culture, and he heard the story of Gudrun. The name means, ‘secret keeper of the gods; divine wisdom; battle friend’. It’s from the Volsungasaga. It freaks German people out when they see that I have that name. And of course I used to get picked on as a kid. 
  

Uh-oh, what were some of the nicknames?
Bad Run. Goodie-Goodie Two Shoes. But what I realized when I got older is that my name could have been Susie Q and people still would have made up names. I’m thankful to my dad because I have this great name and it’s an ice breaker, a conversation starter.  

  

On your blog, you describe yourself as a little bit redneck, a little bit ghetto,a whole lot of suburbia and a dash of glamour. Explain what you mean by that.
I was raised in Chamblee – Tucker, I’m a product of Dekalb County public schools. I hate when people say the public schools system fails. A lot of what I have comes from public schools. 

I love to go to East Atlanta Village, but I hate to go to East Atlanta Village. It  kills me when all the hipsters complain about suburbanites coming over there. It used to be all black-owned. What used to be Willie’s Bakery is now a sushi restaurant. I used to get my hair done at the flea market building that shares the lot with The Earl. What’s hip and popular now, were thriving, black-owned businesses. And we had something. That was our community. 

When we moved to North Dekalb, it wasn’t uncommon to see people come to school on a tractor. So, I listen to country music. I used to want a Toyota Tacoma pickup truck, raised, with roll bars. People say, ‘you talk white’. I’m like, no I don’t. I talk proper. I speak the Queen’s. What you see is only a quarter of who I am. 

  

Do you find it challenging to be an artist now, to make a living off of your art?
Yep. That’s why I have a day job. I love that we have a strong art community here. Michi, Dubelyoo, Dosa Kim, Fahamu, Russell Gunn. We have this beautiful art community. But people in the A always want a hookup, they want free.99, or to barter… which is fine, up to a point.
  

Yeah, the landlord doesn’t take barter.
Right? Georgia Power won’t accept barter. I mean I barter too, but I always tip in cash. So there’s a place for it, and people have to remember that. You know, I’m here in Atlanta now, but in 20 years, I probably won’t be in Atlanta anymore. Other cities, like St. Louis; San Francisco; Venice, California… New York – people are willing to pay for work. I can recall sitting in coffee shops when I was in Venice and seeing people who’d come in and be so inspired by art hanging on the wall in the shop, that they’d buy a $200 piece right there, while they were just waiting in line for a bagel. Whereas here, I see people go, “Oh, I really like this. I’m not gonna buy it, I’ll just take a picture of it and make it a screensaver.” 

I want for Atlanta to realize what they have. We have the seedlings of a great art scene. I should have more options than to go dance my booty off until 3 am. You can go to a museum in New York at 1 or 2 in the morning. Atlanta is my home, I don’t want to have to go somewhere else to be able to be a self-sustaining artist. If you can’t afford the $300 work, come up to me and say, I can’t afford this huge, framed piece, but do you have an 8×10 unframed print in my price range? 

  

How did you get started with the National Black Arts Festival?
Mike Moss – I believe he was looking for someone to do something rock-ish. He wanted something with a little edge. He did a search on Myspace – back then I was still on Myspace – and he reached out and contacted me. It was a while before we actually connected. And then all of a sudden he calls me up like, “I want you to come shoot Van Hunt”. I’m like ‘what?’ This has gotta be a joke. This guy’s up to some skullduggery and mischief – I mean, I didn’t even know who Mike was. So I go and meet them at Apache, and I sat outside in my truck for a while trying to decide if I was actually going to go in. I finally did, and Mike takes me to the back and goes, “This is Van,” you know, like it was nothing. Meanwhile, I’m so excited that I can’t even answer when Van asks me what my favorite song of his is. It’s ‘Dust’, by the way. I shot Van Hunt that night and I think there was only like 1 shot that he didn’t like. 

About a week later I got another call from Mike. He says, “We want you to shoot the festival”. I’m like, really? So they tell me to look at the schedule and pick what events I want to shoot at. You know that dream you have… where you’re walking through a store, shopping and picking out everything, and then when you get to the check-out, you wake up? Yeah, that was sort of like that dream for me. 

So I shot the (2008) festival. And by the time I was done I had like 9,000 photos. Leatrice (Ellzy) and Mike were like, “What didn’t you take?” But for me it’s the little things, all these little moments…. 

The festival allows me to shoot the way I shoot for myself. 

  

So how did you hone your photographic skills?
I’m pretty much self-taught. I had a year in the darkroom learning the ropes, and trial and error. A lot of trial and error. 

  

A lot of people might not know this about you, but you were the first Black Atlanta Rollergirl. What brought you and roller derby together?
I came across the Atlanta Rollergirls on Myspace back in ’05. I really just wanted to shoot some sports photography. I reached out to The Notorious R.I.P. (aka, Gabby), and asked if I could come to a practice and shoot. And she was like, “You can come to practice and try out”. After she didn’t budge, I had my whole McGuyver thing planned out. I figured I’d go do a couple of laps and fake being out of breath, and just hang out on the side and shoot from the waist. But that Monday night was like something from a movie. I was sitting there and these 4 girls walk in – and it was like they were

 moving in slo-mo – I think it was Princess Lay You Out, Demi Gore, Chelle Shocker. I saw them and thought, “These might be my people”. I took a couple of laps, fumbled a little, felt like a kid again, and all of a sudden it was like, this is something I want to do. 

I had always had guy friends. It wasn’t until I did roller derby that I had girl friends. And there was none of that Real Housewives of Atlanta drama – it was a sisterhood I had never had in the Black community. If I was ever in a Turkish prison, these girls would come bail me out. It was a real growing period. Before then I was ‘normal’. I had no visible tattoos, didn’t have my sleeve yet. After that I got pink braids… all of a sudden I could do things like that. My parents always brought me up to be straight-laced. 

I did roller derby for 3 years. But it was time consuming. It was like having a part-time job you didn’t get paid for. I got sick for a little while and couldn’t skate. And that’s when photography sort of became my outlet. 

  

So I know that you’re recently engaged. Now, a lot of women in Atlanta, especially Black women, lament the ratio of men to women here and complain about the quality of the dating scene in general. Do you have any advice or opinion to offer that helped you find a lasting relationship?
I can’t really give any advice. Atlanta is unfortunate. Because of the homosexual climate in Atlanta, a lot of women are settling, and they’re breaking rules they wouldn’t normally break. It’s hard. I struggled too. I remember I’d date multiple guys – they were all aware of it – because Guy A would have 5-6 qualities I was looking for, Guy B would have 3-4, and Guy C would have maybe 1 or 2. So if I went on a different date on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, it’d be like I had a whole person. The climate in Atlanta makes you do this, because it’s better than having a gay husband. My best advice is just to quit looking. When you look, you become desperate and you settle. 

  

Your Twitter handle and your blog both bear the moniker, Shift Into Manic. What significance does that phrase have for you?
Most people think it means I’m bipolar. But I prefer shifting gears to an automatic transmission any day. It’s about me. The fact that for 3 days a week I work the day job, and for 4 days I do something totally different. It’s about being able to be many people. Like when I met Neal (Barclay) I dressed up, and they were like, ‘we’ve never seen her like this before’. And of course you know by now, the way I talk and change topics. It’s about being a chameleon and still being able to come back to what I am. It’s about the different layers of Gudrun Stone. The layers that make me me. 

  

What sort of equipment do you use when you shoot?
I’m a Canon girl, but I’m not a snob. But I have a lot more respect for someone who can get in a darkroom and develop by hand, create a picture from start to finish. If you can get in a darkroom and go toe to toe with me, I have respect. But if you have no manual skills, you don’t even shoot in manual mode on your digital…? 

So many people call themselves photographers, but they rely on electricity. God forbid, if some ‘I Am Legend’ stuff broke out, I could still create pictures. But some people see that and say, “You’re really using film?” Like I live in the projects, or like I got a polo shirt from Wal-Mart and stitched a little green lizard on it. 

  

What can people expect to see at your show, Long Exposures?
This is my first solo show ever. 31 pieces of my little heart will be on display at the Ferst Center. 22 pieces in one gallery, 11 in the other. I tried to work with creatives in Atlanta – people that you don’t think of being in the arts scene… underground, so to speak. It would have been easy to pull people with names you already know. I used people like Dash (Dashill Smith), Melissa – who I always knew as a producer for Fox 5, but she’s also a classical pianist. I just reached out to people, and some couldn’t see the vision. But I just tried to showcase people with that creative energy. Mr. Soul – this graffiti artist out of Cleveland – I think he’s the best picture in the show, and all I did was click the shutter. I challenged him to do some graffiti without pen, paper, or spray paint, and what came out was amazing. And that’s what it’s about, to surround myself with others that have like energy. 

That’s what’s great about the show. I felt like I got to learn about these people I see all the time. It was a bonding process… they got to know me too. 

This is like my baby, and it’s days until my due date… and I’m sure I’ll have Braxton Hicks up until the show. I hope people come to the show and they’re moved by something they haven’t been exposed to before. Because I feel like each artist that participated bared a little bit of their soul. 

  

What advice do you have for other aspiring photographers?
Read. Reading is fundamental. Experiment. Don’t be afraid to fail. And this is not sage advice, it’s just things you’re going to go through. You’re gonna fail. But sometimes in the failure, you find new ideas and concepts. Don’t think that because you have a BFA in photography or some other degree that you’re guaranteed success. Don’t be afraid to walk the road less traveled. Everyone doesn’t have to be Derek Blanks or Gordon Parks… you have to be who you are and your work will speak for itself.  

  

Who would you say are your role models or mentors?
I’d have to say my dad, for the things he’s been through. For being a fighter. 

Ms. Baker who I met working at the Governor’s office. She looks at my work, I read her book in progress. She’s someone other than my mother who guides me. 

Frank Mullen. Mullen also shot concert photos. He shot for Rolling Stone, did personal shoots with Dita von Teese. But he would help you. I could call him in the middle of a shoot and say, “I’m not getting the results I want, these are my settings,” and he’d walk me through it over the phone. Frank Mullen taught me that you can be a rockstar shooter and not have a rockstar personality. It’s when others start dropping your name, not you dropping theirs, that you’re really a rockstar. 

Gudrun Stone presents Long Exposures
Sunday April 11, 3-6pm
Ferst Center at Georgia Tech
349 Ferst Drive Northwest
Atlanta, GA 30332 

Gudrun Stone on Twitter
Gudrun Stone’s Blog
Gudrun Stone on Flickr 

B&W photo of Gudrun Stone by Dean Hesse

Ima Gitcha photo by Russell Limprecht 

Van Hunt photo by Gudrun Stone

cheers, 

k

experiencing the flavor at the songwriter’s soul kitchen

 In September 2008, I got to experience one of the most magically memorable events of my adult life. Part of the reason I haven’t written about it here yet, is because it’s always proven hard for me to put everything about that experience into words. But I figured it’d be better to do a bad job of recapping the moment, than not to share it at all. So here goes….

I just got back in town late last night from a week of hectic travel for work. And here I am back on the road again, braving Friday afternoon Labor Day weekend traffic on a 2.5 hour drive to McRae.

“What the hell is Mac-ray?” Asked one friend who I’d informed of my trip earlier that week.

“It’s McRae,” I corrected, “and it’s a city in south Georgia”

“And you’re going there for Labor Day weekend?”

A few months ago, I probably would have been as incredulous as my friend if someone had told me I’d be spending valuable off-work time in some small town in the middle of nowhere. But a few months ago, I’d never heard of the Songwriter’s Soul Kitchen. A few months ago, I’d never even heard of Vinx.

Trying to classify Vinx would be futile at best and likely, inaccurate. The most apt description is this: Vinx is music. He’s a multitalented, singer, songwriter, musician, and teacher that Stevie Wonder has been quoted as calling, “the gift you give to someone that you really care about”. A good friend of mine who’d lived in Europe (where the artist has a huge following) had given me the gift of Vinx’s music only a few weeks before I got a chance to see him perform at Smith’s Olde Bar. That night’s performance was one of the purest examples of musicianship I’d ever seen. No flashy sets or on-stage gimmicks. Just this larger-than-life bandannaed and bespectacled man who crooned with the velvety timbre of a Luther Vandross, and easily employed the vocal gymnastics of a Bobby McFerrin. That night, I watched transfixed, as Vinx deftly switched from drums, to keys, to using some on-stage recording device that allowed him to provide his own backup vocals right on the spot. Each tune was like a pit stop on an expressive journey of unvarnished emotion – humor, lust, romance, and joie de vivre. By the time he left the stage, I was so moved, that when the announcer reminded the audience of our last chance to enter a drawing, I didn’t even care what the drawing was for, I just knew that I wanted my name in the hat. As it turned out, what was being raffled off was a complimentary trip to the Songwriter’s Soul Kitchen – a multi-day retreat where singers, musicians, and songwriters gather to hone their crafts at Vinx’s house in – you guessed it – McRae.

The Soul Kitchen Magic

d Black! | MySpace Video

So it happened that a series of fortunate events (I actually won the drawing) was how I came to be standing on the wide porch of Vinx’s home – an antebellum mansion turned artist’s residence and recording studio in the heart of McRae’s historic district. The door opens, and I’m greeted warmly and familiarly by Katherine, an auntie who bears an uncanny resemblance to Whoopi Goldberg. She takes the bottle of wine I’ve brought as a gift, directs me where to set my bags, and introduces me to the 8 or so other people seated at Vinx’s dining room table, before offering to take me on the nickel tour of the house.

On the tour, I realize just how multifaceted Vinx is as an artist and a human being. Originally from Kansas City, Vinx – who started life as Vincent D’jon Parette – is a military brat, and a former Olympic-qualifying track and field athlete, who got started with music in college as a part-time DJ and a member of Kansas State University’s marching band. After several years touring and recording with the likes of Sting, Stevie Wonder, Branford Marsalis, and Cassandra Wilson, Vinx eventually added visual artist and educator to his resume. He’s now a professor at the esteemed Berklee College of Music in Boston. In addition to his busy music touring schedule, he’s also planning a gallery show where he’ll take small groups of people through a guided tour of his art, performing songs at each installment, creating a one-of-a-kind experience that merges the emotion of the visual piece with that of the musical one.

“It really says something about a person who would open up their home like this.” I overhear someone say this as I re-enter the dining room. Vinx – who’s still seated at the table – informs me that we’re all preparing to introduce ourselves musically to each other. In my mind, I think it’s about to be some scheduled event with a lineup of who will perform when. But from what I can tell it sounds like it’s already happening spontaneously in a room at the rear of the house. Vinx and I chat familiarly for a while, but even though I’m trying my best to concentrate, I’m only about 60% present. The rest of me is wondering who’s riffing* so damned hard on the guitar!? He senses my restlessness, and graciously releases me to go and mingle with the others.

My default question for everyone is, “So how’d you come to be here?” Each response is as deep and reverent as what you’d hear from a devotee on a pilgrimage. There’s Purple Haze, a spitifire sista from Newark who’s got the gift of gab and knows how to use it. Her genre is hip hop, and once I hear her freestyle, I’m convinced that she’s the undiscovered heir to the throne once inhabited by Lauryn Hill and Bahamadia. She shares with me that she gave her 2 week notice before coming down this weekend. Her job? Performing testing and consultations in an HIV clinic.

Ritse is a somewhat timid, open-faced Nigerian-born girl from D.C. who’s obviously a strong vocal talent, but is just starting to come out of her shell musically. She’s travelled here to help spur along her confidence and engage with other artists that are more experienced.

The baby-faced Vince – who over dinner gets dubbed ‘Little Vinx’ mainly because he sports ths same bandana doo-rag that his namesake often does – is here on ‘scholarship’, and hails from Arkansas. From listening to him on the keys*, and how he prods and encourages some of his peers, and digs into cleaning up the dinner dishes, you can tell he also has the same down-to-earth mettle as his counterpart.

Keith – a kinda quiet, kinda lanky white guy from Nashville – is a self-confessed techno geek who’s also a beast on keys and music production in general.

And there’s Ya-Ya – who hails from Philadelphia by way of San Francisco. She’s a novice guitarist who also helps with the administrative work of the Soul Kitchen and makes a mean quesadilla.

Over the next couple of days, Vinx plays the role of papa bear to us, his cubs. He walks us through how and why to register with each of the performer’s rights organizations – BMI, ASCAP, and SESAC, has us break out into different groups to create songs, making sure that the writers, musicians, and vocalists among us all get a chance to express our unique perspective, while learning how to work with unfamiliar genres and challenging subjects. Each musical work that we create in our groups is actually recorded and produced in one of 2 studios at Vinx’s house. One of the group songs I worked on, which had to include the words ‘black belt’ and ‘popcorn’, becomes an absolute work of art after DJ Vando and Jessie – the Soul Kitchen’s resident producers – put their magic on it.

Throughout the weekend, other members of the Soul Kitchen family appear as if from nowhere. One night, Atlanta-based folk singer Doria Roberts shows up to make everyone dinner and dessert crepes. Others like Tubby Love, Gray Mation, B@man, and Ben aka ‘The Big Dipper’, breeze in and out – but no one is a stranger, no one is a star. Everyone is on equal footing and here for only one thing – the love of the music.

During my 3 day stay at the Soul Kitchen, I laugh much, learn more, and sleep little. On more than one occasion I get the feeling that I’m at a grown-up summer camp, or on a reality TV show with the subtitle, “What happens when a bunch of people get together to live in a house and starting getting real…with music?” Having never performed any of my written pieces before an audience, I’m more than a little nervous when the musical introduction that was supposed to happen on the night I arrived, occurs. But as I start to recite one of my poems, I hear The Big Dipper step up to the conga drums and accompany my words, imparting a rhythm I’d never imagined they could have. I instinctively adjust my pace to match his. The other members of the Soul Kitchen family listen, grunt their approval, smile and nod at the satisfactory flavor of my particular lyrical dish. There’s a touch of bitter realness in the words that I share, but when I’m done the only thing that lingers is a sweet smile of accomplishment, and a warm fullness that can only be found in this kitchen.

If you’re interested in cooking up something in the Songwriter’s Soul Kitchen, join Vinx for a special edition of the Soul Kitchen – ‘Vol. 20… The Performance Week’ March 15 – 21. Or, check out the Songwriter’s Soul Kitchen website for future Soul Kitchen dates.

a fleeting bloom in winter – gloAtl’s performance at lenox square mall

Lauri Stallings has a knack for befuddling audiences with her art. When I first heard of Bloom, the site-specific dance performance that would take place in the arteries of – of all places – Lenox Mall, my first response was a wrinkled brow and a head scratch. Why Lenox Mall? Why not a venue that would be more suited to the art form than a place characterized by crowded consumerism? Yet, I was intrigued enough to brave the weekend throngs and hellacious parking lot to catch a glimpse of gloAtl’s final performance of Bloom, which was set to begin at 4pm on Sunday.

At 4:15, a sizeable crowd of curious spectators gathered around a stark white dance floor that had been installed near the Starbuck’s at the center of the mall. Several more people – including yours truly – leaned over the banister of the mezzanine above, waiting for the spectacle to begin. Most people had no idea what they were even waiting for. “There’s a dance performance today,” I informed those who bothered to ask. One guy responded, “Oh, like America’s Best Dance Crew!?” He seemed a mite disappointed when I told him the show would be more ballet than b-boy.

After waiting several minutes with eyes trained on the stage, I noticed an out-of-place character in the crowd below. A svelte dancer clothed in a burlap-and-black tutu dress stood amidst the waiting onlookers; no one appeared to even notice she was there. Another dancer emerged from the crowd, crossed the stage and exited to the stairs leading to the second level of the mall, disappearing from view as quickly as she had appeared. Moments later, two more dancers emerged from the mass of shoppers, stretching limbs, twirling and executing elegantly awkward poses while mall patrons filed by with their shopping bags – some smiling, some oblivious, and some with confused looks on their faces. The befuddlement spread to the mezzanine quickly, especially when more than one dancer nudged between the upstairs onlookers, executing arabesques and fluid backbends over the edge of the railing.

The elimination of the barrier between a performer and an audience made for some profound observations. The crowd seemed to focus more on the dancers when they were in the designated performance space than they did when a dancer was literally performing right in front of their faces. I silently wondered whether the goal of Bloom was to remind us that art – like the blooming of a flower – is organic, and that we should be conscious of its presence all around us, instead of limiting it to a stage or a designated venue that proclaims, ‘herein lies art’.

Or perhaps the intent was to solidify gloAtl as a sort of fine arts flash mob that spreads this message of organic art appreciation throughout Atlanta.

Or maybe… the objective was simply to make people scratch their heads in between sips of their double shot, no foam macchiatos as they headed for their next retail fix.

a night of hedonism at apache cafe

Hedonism. It’s more than just a clothing-optional resort in the Caribbean. And from now through February 22, you won’t need a plane ticket or a passport to experience it.

This past Monday, Apache Cafe hosted the opening for Hedonism IX, a once-a-year art show highlighting erotic art, live models, and sensual performances. Like the resort, the art show is for those who don’t mind seeing and showing their more, er… natural side. Unlike the resort, there’s no separate section for the prudes among us, so be sure to check your inhibitions at the door.

Atlanta-based photog Luladae Terefe was on hand to capture her vision of the night’s delightful debauchery, and was kind enough to share her stunningly beautiful images.

Prepare to be titillated. Cold shower optional.

 (click images to see full size)

 

Hedonism IX @ Apache Cafe
Mondays through February 22
64 3rd St. NW
Atlanta, GA 30308-1035

cheers,

k

opening reception: run for cover at spruill gallery

One of the things I lament most about the decline of the album and the CD and the rise of digital music is the loss of that accompanying art form – the album cover. In the past, album covers were as much a statement of the times and the genre as the music was. I mean, what could capture the essence of early-80s, sex-laden funk better than this:

 

On January 14 from 6 to 9 pm, Spruill Gallery will host an opening reception for Run for Cover - an exhibit that will pay homage to ‘the album covers that defined and influenced our experience of music and shaped our lives’. And even if Rick James doesn’t make the cut, I’m looking forward to discovering and re-discovering an array of visual and musical influences crossing a range of generations and genres. The exhibit will shows through March 6.

cheers,

k

Spruill Gallery
4681 Ashford Dunwoody Road
Atlanta, Georgia  30338
http://spruillgallery.blogspot.com/
770.394.4019

Closing Reception: Fahamu Pecou’s Whirl Trade at Get This Gallery

This Saturday, Atlanta-based artist Fahamu Pecou (The Artist formerly known as ‘The Shit’), along with mega-promoter J. Carter and Red|Creative will host a reception for Pecou’s current installation at Get This! Gallery in the Westside Arts District. Entitled, Whirl Trade, Pecou’s collection of 5 original paintings continues his penchant for slick, highly stylized images that satirize contemporary images of ‘blackness’ across the Diaspora.

Fans admire Pecou for using high art to hold a critical light to hip-hop culture, and credit him for making art accessible to a wider audience. While critics say that Pecou may himself be one of the over-hyped hip-hop archetypes he often mocks in his work.

Come out for a peek on Saturday evening and be your own judge.

 

 cheers,

k

Get This! Gallery

662 11th St.

www.getthisgallery.com

678-596-4451 

Next Page »