Poetry of the People: Jerred Metz
This week's Poet of the People is Jerred Metz. Jerred found and befriended me a decade or so ago and is my irregular lunch partner at Arabasque. We talk of poetry and prose, family and friends. He challenges me to become a better writer without losing my voice or becoming derivative of what I read; he is a gift to the poetry community of South Carolina.
Jerred Metz has had seven books of poetry, three non-fiction, and two novels published, and over one hundred poems and stories in literary journals. He taught creative writing at the University of Minnesota, Webster University, and Coker College. For fifteen years he was poetry editor for the Webster International Poetry Review. He has degrees from the University of Rhode Island (B.A., M.A., English) and the University of Minnesota (Ph.D., English and Philosophy.)
Honey, My Muse
Her wild shadow wakes, rises, and
comes toward me. I love her,
frightening as she is, her eyes
the color of water,
her wings
battering the air.
When she flies the world unfurls
like a backdrop
behind and beneath her.
Benevolent bees
fill her hollow body
with hive and honey.
She tells me,
never minding the calendar,
“In 1929 I had to leave school to marry the banker who holds the mortgage on my poor mother’s homestead since we could no longer meet the payments. Believe me, life was no picnic, me only twelve and missing all my friends and my teachers and what if the townspeople learned that the banker had a twelve-year-old wife? I learned to cook, keep house, and please my husband in bed. Believe me, that was no easy task, me only twelve and him well into his fifties, his hair and moustache still shining black. There were no sex manuals then. Those few who had them considered themselves lucky to have books of etiquette. And this banker had been around and was particular about his sex. Oh, where could I turn? Who could I ask for help?”
She brings me visions.
In return, I show her
a new place to press
or kiss,
a new position,
a fresh phrase to
utter.
Muse,
whose sacred body—
hive for queen and drone,
worker and larvae,
and honeycomb
rich with sweetness,
comes toward me
holding another poem.
____
I created these “overheard” snatches and snippets of a private detective in Newark, New Jersey in the 1890s. Accounts of incidents in his career, each hinting at a “before” and an “after.” They are from Sad Tales and Sordid Stories: Interruptions. There are about 30 of them.
What was Not Her Astonishment
Harland was a friend of Hattie's
of whom The night before Hattie had written to
Charlotte of Harland, who was a friend—
"a very fine, spirited man
whom Charlotte would like,"
she thought and believed.
What was not Charlotte’s astonishment
when she found he was nothing
like the man Hattie described.
The Air was Unusually Mild
Harland strolled out
with Charlotte before
going to the office.
The air was unusually mild
for this time of year,
such days being part of
the recent past
or far in the future.
Strange to say,
he was empty-handed.
The manuscript—
its worn wrapping
exposing some
of the contents
to public view,
which I expected
him to be carrying—
was nowhere to be seen.
I felt safe now;
I knew the lady’s name—
“Hattie the hat”—
an old schemer—
and proceeded to her boarding-place,
had her summoned,
introduced myself, mumbling
a name that sounded like that of a con
from Newark who she had heard of,
and began talking to her
about literary matters,
favoring the popular writers
over the serious ones.
Harland’s Henchmen in the Restaurant
Had they hunted her
or were they acquaintances of Harland's
who found her there by accident and
simply followed her down?
I wanted to speak with the proprietor,
but they might be customers
who always spent as much as tonight,
and clearly Charlotte was charmed by them.
I was a stranger here—
why should the owner listen
to my meagre dribble of coin
against the music of
their smiling wallets?
“She is an Angel,” or,
"Her Eyelashes are Harpstrings Angels Thrum"
In spite of all the assurances
I offered her Charlotte
would not single out
any of the men as her attacker.
She claimed not even to be sure
that any of them had been on
the trolley that morning.
But when I saw their shy glances
in Charlotte’s direction
I was certain she had made
An impression
upon their minds,
and now they wished
they were not thieves and murderers,
but pleasant young men
who might sit beside her and say,
"Your eyelashes are harpstrings
angels thrum.
Come with me to tented Elberon
and stroll the boardwalk,
sipping lemon ices,
sit in the breeze
at the edge of
the sea."
____
I call these epigramatics, by definition concise, clever, and amusing
1
Homo Sapiens
An
Invasive
Species.
2
Technology
Every day
I learn something
I wish
I didn’t
Need to know.
3
Our Quietest Meals
Are when we
eat fish.
Not that fish
makes us
more serious,
just more
careful.
4
A Simile on Free Writing
Like looking
For something
In an empty attic.
5
Catastrophe
—the Great Fuck-Up—
is Mother
and Father—
the Hermaphrodite—
of Invention.
____
Positano
Positano bites deep. It is a dream place that isn’t quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone.
John Steinbeck Harper's Bazaar, May, 1953
I
In Ancient Days
Vesuvius’ razed Pompeii and Herculaneum
A rain of burning ash buried Positano.
Before then, on westward treks Greeks and Phoenicians
traded at Positano, so history says.
Named for the Sea God,
Poseidon in quiet and wrath—
the old cosmology still alive.
Or is this what happened?
Pirates stole a thirteenth-century
Black Madonna icon from Byzantium.
When they reached the bay,
in anger at the theft, Poseidon
tore the waters in storm.
The thieves heard a shout, "Posa! Posa!”
“Put down! Put down!”
The storm-struck ship crashed,
a wreck on the shore.
Still alive, the pirates hauled
the Madonna up the steep cliff
to the village, delivered Her to
Santa Maria Assunta’s priest.
The storm stopped, the sea quieted, the sun smiled.
Good citizens of Positano ever after—the reformed pirates.
Posa. Posa. Positano
II
The Plate of Clay
Whole, then broken, buried,
unearthed, repaired with reverence.
The beauty of the broken,
The marvel of the restored,
marking its own perfection.
The border—geometry, repetition, variety,
the shapes of flowers—holds all the universe.
The border beyond, before Chaos, its own beauty.
III
Praise Invention, Praise Conception
The artificer,
whose brush followed hand,
whose hand obeyed mind,
whose mind embodied the muse.
How much beauty can a wall contain
before bursting forth in song?
IV
Seven Sisters
The single band of cloth twirling, and breeze
lifts to its own dance, tying sister to sister.
What song do they chant?
“Who are we?
Seven sisters, Pleiades
dance, dive,
divide and gather.
How are we called?
Maia,
Electra,
Alcyone,
Taygete,
Asterope,
Celaeno
Merope.
Seven daughters of father Titan Atlas, who holds up the sky,
and mother Ocean, Pleione, Mother to Sailors,
whose Fate she governs.
Zeus, Poseidon, and Ares fathered children
upon us, made us a small dipper
of stars in Taurus.
See us twinkle and nod,
sharing our songs in code.”
“Who are we? Half-sisters to the
seven Pleiades and the Hesperides.
We, the seven Hyades,
sisterhood of nymphs,
the rain-makers,
who fall as rain,
our weeping, rain.
When a wild beast killed the hunter Hyas we wept,
became a star cluster in Taurus’ head,
a dipper to hold our tears.
V
Perched Positano
Thanks to its location, Positano’s climate is mild—
winters warm, the summers long and sunny,
refreshed by sea breezes, and
by the landscape’s beauty.
Long, steep stair link the village high above
with the valley beneath, the sea beyond.
A hard walk down, a hard climb up.
Below, the happy throng at Positano, blissful,
bless the sea suspended in ecstasy,
bless the patient town,
the happy villas above which become
beckoningly real after you have gone.
Visit Sound Bites Eatery on Sumter Street for Delicious Food, Welcoming Vibes, and this month, Art from the Jasper Project's Board of Directors Visual Artists!
One of the great joys of working with the Jasper Project is becoming warm friends with members of our hard-working board of directors as well as the owner/operators of the institutions that work with us and the venues that host us. A perfect example would be the good people at Sound Bites Eatery who welcomed Jasper as soon as their doors were opened and invited us to make use of their walls to hang art by local artists. This month we are combining our appreciation for both by featuring the art of Jasper Project Board Artists, Emily Moffitt, Laura Garner Hine, Keith Tolen, and Kimber Carpenter in the Jasper Gallery Space at Sound Bites Eatery.
Curated by a committee chaired by Christina Xan who serves as the Jasper Project’s gallery manager, Jasper hangs local art throughout the city at Motor Supply Bistro, Koger Center for the Arts, Harbison Theatre, the Meridian Sidewalk Gallery Space as well as Sound Bites Eatery. But we’re always looking for new permanent or temporary spaces to feature the work of Columbia-based artists.
While we enjoy celebrating new shows with receptions, one of the advantages of showing art in these public spaces is that the art is available for purchase any time day or night by accessing a QR code attached to every piece of art. So if you’re still looking for the perfect gift for someone you love, consider giving art by visiting one of the Jasper Gallery spaces easily accessible in the greater Columbia area!
DAVID WILCOX IN CONCERT AT TOL COFFEEHOUSE December 16th
Singer songwriter David Wilcox will be performing at the TOL Coffeehouse concert this Saturday, December 16th at 7:30pm. Wilcox, a Coffeehouse favorite, will present a program including some songs off his newest album “My Good Friends.” The TOL Coffeehouse is located at 6719 North Trenholm Road, Columbia, SC 29206. Tickets are $27 when ordered on line before the concert. Tickets at the door are $29.
Wilcox, who has appeared at the Coffeehouse many times over the past several years, always draws a large enthusiastic audience. In fact, the way Wilcox feels about every tune on My Good Friends proves this is indeed a fan-requested labor of love. “I am grateful for the community that sustains me – my good friends,” he says. “These are the kind of friends that get you through difficult times. The kind of friends that you go to for a fresh perspective when the future looks grim. These songs grew out of conversations with friends, and they hold ideas that I like to have around.”
Tickets are available through The TOL Coffeehouse website tol-coffeehouse.square.site, Facebook page and by scanning the QR code on the poster and other printed materials. Doors open at 6:30pm for Groucho’s deli sandwiches, coffee, and home baked goods. Music begins at 7:30pm.
Due to heightened security please limit the size of purses and handbags. No backpacks are allowed. All bags will be subject to search. To keep everyone healthy we are using ionizing devices on each of our HVAC units. As air flows past the ionizing devices, positive and negative ions actively treat the supply air, reducing bacteria and viruses in the coil and living space This increases the efficacy of our MERV 8 filter.
Out of respect for our hosts at Tree of Life, we ask that no pork or shellfish food items be brought inside the building.
SC Phil presents a Brilliantly Collaborative Holiday Event with Some of SC's Finest Vocalists, Dancers, and of course, the SC Philharmonic!
SC PHILHARMONIC BRINGS SINGERS, DANCERS AND SANTA TO KOGER CENTER FOR “HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS”
Collaborative creation from Music Director Morihiko Nakahara and Director Chad Henderson promises to be an extravaganza
Kanika Moore
Katie Leitner
Catherine Hunsinger
Samuel McWhite
Columbia Repertory Dance Company
Santa
Morihiko Nakahara
& the SC Philharmonic
In a brilliantly collaborative act The South Carolina Philharmonic presents Home for the Holidays on Thursday, December 21, 2023 at 7:00 PM at the Koger Center for the Arts under the baton of Music Director Morihiko Nakahara. After years of sold out holiday concerts at Harbison Theatre, The SC Philharmonic is bringing their holiday-themed event to the Koger Center this year for one night only and making it truly grand. The show itself is a collaboration between SC Phil Maestro Morihiko Nakahara and award-winning theatre director Chad Henderson, the former Artistic Director of Trustus Theatre and current Marketing Director of the SC Phil. Tickets may be purchased by visiting
scphilharmonic.com or by calling the Koger Center Box Office at 803-251-2222.
More from our friends at the SC Philharmonic –
Home for the Holidays is positioned to be one of the last large-scale holiday-themed events of the season, with the performance scheduled on December 21st. The orchestra anticipates that this concert will be appealing to families who have gathered for the holidays, and to those who are looking for new traditions. “We wanted to create a large-scale concert event due to our move to the Koger Center,” says theatre director Chad Henderson. “Audiences are going to get a traditional orchestral experience in the first act, and then in the second half we’re going to enjoy the alchemy of multi-disciplinary work with uplifting, moving and energetic performances from amazing singers and dancers alongside the SC Phil.”
Singer Kanika Moore is known internationally as the lead singer of Doom Flamingo (Charleston, SC) and Tauk (Long Island, NY). This Charleston native’s original tone and seamless effort is almost impossible to ignore, and this is quite possibly the reason she was named the Charleston City Paper Soul/R&B Act of the Year in 2019. Joining Moore are Columbia singers Katie Leitner of Say Femme, Catherine Hunsinger of Rex Darling, and the magnetic musical theatre veteran Samuel McWhite.
Wanting to dive deeper into multi-disciplinary work, the SC Phil invited The Columbia Repertory Dance Company to collaborate with the orchestra. In its fourth season, The Columbia Repertory Dance Company’s mission is to broaden the experience of professional dance artists and patrons in Columbia, SC through multidisciplinary collaborative performances year-round. Led by Artistic Director Stephanie Wilkins and Managing Director Bonnie Boiter-Jolley, the company is bringing emotional and athletic work to the Koger stage – a trademark of this company which performed at the DUMBO Dance Festival in NYC in Summer 2023.
The concert will boast two arrangements by Columbia’s Dick Goodwin, famed jazz artist and composer. Goodwin’s arrangements of “All I Want for Christmas” and “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” will be featured in the second act, with the latter serving as the finale of the evening. Audiences can also expect to hear classic orchestral fare like Leroy Anderson’s “Sleigh Ride,” alongside popular songs like “White Christmas” and “Santa Claus is Back in Town,” and readings of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and the famous editorial by Francis Church “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.” All of these elements combined with production design from Chad Henderson and Koger Center Technical Director Steve Borders will make for a sensational evening of symphonic spectacle that will entertain the whole family.
“In the end, we want audiences to have a fulfilling and rich experience,” says Henderson. “We want people to feel a range of emotions while they’re with us. We’re using the undeniable universality of music, dance and, at times, theatre to provide audiences with a joyful evening that will be uplifting, energizing and powerful. Hopefully this will become a signature event for the SC Phil where friends and families join us every year to ignite their celebrations.”
The SC Philharmonic’s Home for the Holidays will take the Koger Center stage on Thursday, December 21, 2023 at 7:00 PM at. Concert ticket prices range from $10 to $40 currently, and they can be purchased at scphilharmonic.com or by calling the Koger Center Box Office (803) 251-2222.
Student Rush tickets are available for $10 starting thirty minutes before the concert, and group rates for 10 or more are available by writing kathryn@scphilharmonic.com.
Poetry of the People: Ed Madden
This week's Poet of the People is Ed Madden, Ed Madden is a gifted poet and a generous mentor and nurturer across a wide range of our community of poets. He consistently models how to be relevant and present in both the town and gown communities and we are richer for it.
Ed will be reading Sunday at Poetry Church and Tuesday at Historic Columbia
From Ark (Sibling Rivalry, 2016)
Ark
Christmas 1966
The small box is filled with little beasts—
a barn that’s a barge, a boat—the ark’s
ridged sides like boards, a plastic plank,
a deck that drops in fitted slots, but lifted
reveals that zoo of twos—heaped beasts
to be released beneath a glittering tree,
its dove-clipped limbs. Dad’s asleep
in his reclining seat, and crumpled waves
of paper recede as Mom circles the room.
The humming wheel throws light across the walls.
How to lift him
Don’t pick him up by the pits,
which seems easiest. You risk
broken bones, bruised skin.
Instead, once he’s eased up, sits,
shoulders hunched, fee slung
over the edge, lean down for the hug,
your arms under his and around,
hands flat against his back, his arms around
you. This is what you do. Then lift him,
his feet between yours, this timid
dance around, this turn. Tell him
to bend his knees as you ease him
down to the chair, its wheels locked,
set him in slow. Kneel in front
as if to receive his blessing.
Lift each foot to its rest. Wrap
a blanket around him—you’re going out.
Stop at the old flat-front desk,
last hiding place for his cigarettes—
why he wanted up, after all. Stop
at the edge of the porch and lock
the wheels. Make sure he’s in the sun.
Stand silent by, he won’t talk much,
though the lonely cat will,
rubbing its back against the wheels.
Thirst
The nurse said, your father really looks at you
when you walk into the room—
he stares at you,
she said, he must have something to tell you.
But he never tells you.
Later, another hospice worker listened to this story.
She said, no, you know,
sometimes, as we’re leaving this world,
our world contracts to the small space of the room,
to the few things we love.
Your father wasn’t looking at you because he had
something to tell you, no,
he was looking at you because he loved you, she said.
It was near the end, she said,
he was drinking you in.
Poems from A Pooka in Arkansas (Word Works, 2023)
[untitled]
What has been omitted
from the history we learned?
The stubble was plowed under,
sometimes burned.
[untitled]
Sometimes when it’s cold out,
I pull on my dad’s old denim
shirt, warm, worn, the past
a thin jacket, what I have left.
Psalm
after Psalm 23
Tim is my therapist;
I’m learning to trust him.
He motions me to the green sofa;
there’s always bottled water on the table.
He leads me to talk about things
I don’t want to talk about.
If I make my way to the top
of the dark stairs,
he makes a space for talking
and for not talking.
Sometimes the room gets crowded—
my dead father, my distant mother,
all those messages from my brother
I can pull up right there on my phone.
In their presence, he asks,
“What would happen
if you stopped doing your family’s work
of shaming you?”
That question follows me the rest of the day.
From A Story of the City: Poems Occasional and Otherwise (Muddy Ford, 2023)
Postcard: First Baptist Church, Columbia, S.C.
Justitia Virtutum Regina, motto of the City of Columbia
This is where they decided
to divide US, where they said
all men are not equal, where
they pledged allegiance to
the divided states of America
and to the secession for
which they stood, a nation
broken, divisible, with liberty
and justice for some.
Something to declare
July 11, 2018, after William Stafford
The president is overseas this week, that’s the news,
and we’re reading William Stafford in a chilly classroom
and trying to write about where we live now, and how.
Important people are gathered around a big table,
but we sit at our little desks. Sachi talks about what it means
to declare something when you cross a border.
Back home, I know my cat is dying. She’ll amble
stiffly to the door when I return, her blind eyes
wide and bright with what she cannot see.
They say that history is going on somewhere.
Zoe describes her story as a scrap of paper swept
by the wind, litter snagged in a tree.
This is only a little report from a summer arts camp,
where Makenna and Maya and Eva and Micah are writing
about their small, rich lives. We’re here. You can find us here.
A new year
Bert’s outside taking down the strings
of lights, this winter sun bright enough
for a new day, new year. Colleen sent
a thick heart made of seeds—we’ll hang it
in a tree today for birds, for the winter
that persists despite the sun. Last night’s
firewords were gorgeous, though Barry ran back
and forth with his torch to relight them—
the way, sometimes, we have to do for
our little resolutions, for our glorious
dreams, for our tired hearts, when it’s
dark, when it’s still so cold.
UNPUBLISHED POEMS
Epithalamium, backyard wedding
for Mahayla, 20 June 2020
Bert mowed the yard and we spent
some time tidying up, though I know
after next week’s storms there will be
more to do, before the weekend, before
your wedding, before the small service
you asked to have in our backyard.
The mockingbird who takes up a post
every day on the utility pole will sing
for you I’m sure, and I’m certain too
he’ll work in his latest riff, his perfect
soft mimicry of a car alarm going off
in the distance. I will get the words
ready. I’m sorry there’s a big hole
in the yard where we hope to put in
a pond later this summer. But maybe
that’s okay. We’re always trying to make
things better and sometimes that means
a big muddy hole in the middle of it all,
sometimes that means a simple service
in your uncles’ back yard, everyone
standing apart, except for the bride
and groom, maybe your mom and stepdad.
Nathan got the day off, despite the police
being on call right now. I hope he stays
safe this week, his dark skin, his uniform
and gun. I hope I get the words right.
I know you’d hoped for something lovelier,
that wedding in the mountains in October,
but maybe this is best, we don’t know
what things will be like then. May it be
clear and sunny on the day, may the
magnolia still be wearing its perfume, may
the yard be good enough, may this be good
enough. I will ask him to take your hand.
I will ask if you have a ring. I will ask
you to repeat after me. You said no
prayer because Nathan is not Christian,
but I may offer up a prayer anyway.
Maybe this is that prayer.
REVIEW: The Great American Trailer Park Christmas Musical at Trustus Theatre
December 1st started a month that’s jam-packed with holiday programming from performing arts organizations in Columbia. Though most of these offerings are squeaky-clean traditional fare, the curtain went up on Trustus Theatre’s third production of The Great American Trailer Park Christmas Musical on Friday - and it is definitely for those who wish to be on the naughty list this year. Next to the legacy of The Rocky Horror Show at Trustus, Betsy Kelso and David Nehls’ Trailer Park franchise is probably the theatre’s second-runner-up for the most productions, having found a home on the theatre’s stage five times in the last thirteen years.The show will run through December 17th, and it is completely sold out, save for some standing room tickets that you may be lucky enough to get your hands on. So, this review is simply for posterity, or perhaps to give the theatre some pull-quotes that they can use in their marketing of the show next season (should they decide to bring it back).
Under the hysterical direction of Robin Gottlieb and Music Director Randy Moore, The Great American Trailer Park Christmas Musical tells the story of Armadillo Acres’ very own Grinch, Darlene (Brittany Hammock), whose neighbor Rufus (Kevin Bush) is a certified Christmas Nut. After Darlene shocks herself on a cable-splitter, she suddenly loves Christmas, and is possibly falling in love with Rufus. However, with the entry of Darlene’s “breastaurant” owning lover, Jackson (David Fichter), the plot thickens. Darlene shocks herself again, Jackson buys the trailer park and decides to kick everyone out, Rufus drinks too much 99 cent gin, there’s a BIG fart joke, and everything gets tied up with a big bow on top for a very satisfying ending. It’s a simple and predictable plot for sure, but what makes these musicals so appealing is the Greek Chorus of Betty, Lin and Pickles (played by Vicky Saye Henderson, Lauren Roberts and Bella Coletti respectively). This trio glues the proceedings together, and breaks the fourth wall at the very top of the evening - so it's clear that we’re all experiencing these shenanigans together, and the rules are: there are no rules. It’s fun, it’s hilarious, it’s bawdy and it clearly resonates with Columbia audiences.
This production boasts one of the strongest local ensembles in recent history, and you can tell that they are not only a group of craftspeople, but that they were also directed to play and explore within the rules of the storytelling - and the end result is exceptional fun. Trustus Company Member Brittany Hammock, clad in neon leopard print and donning a hilarious 1980s glamour-shot-worthy perm, expands her comedic range in this show, proving why she is one of Columbia’s most trusted musical theatre talents. Hammock has dipped her toes into comedic roles in recent history, but this one requires a full commitment to the outrageous, and she keeps us laughing with her cutting dialogue and fully-realized physicalization. As soon as Darlene appears with a “Paradise By the Dashboard Light” entrance, we instantly know this woman because we can see she is a walking Floridian cigarette (though she’s not a smoker, but you get the idea). Company Member Kevin Bush as Darlene’s foil, Rufus, pours heart into the the character and the audience can’t help but pull for him the entire night. His solo number “Black and Blue on Christmas Eve” demonstrates Bush’s command as a singer and comedian, and summons plenty of guffaws as he wears a derelict Santa suit while holding a bottle of 99 cent gin. Rounding out this half of the cast is David Fichter as the dislikable Jackson. While he’s not an obvious soloist like his castmates, Fichter’s velvet-track-suit-with-gold-chain-wearin-kinda-guy portrayal is perfectly oily and right at home in this ensemble.
Now to that glue we were talking about earlier, our Greek chorus: Betty, Lin and Pickles. These characters appear in both iterations of the Armadillo Acres saga, and they’re probably the reason people like these shows so much. In the role of Lin (short for Linoleum) is Lauren Roberts, and we are so glad to see a talent like hers come to Columbia stages. Having logged some hours doing exhausting shows at Carowinds, Roberts is a powerhouse with great vocals and timing. Bella Coletti as Pickles was facing a tall order when she came into this role, as it has been played by some of Columbia’s great young talents prior to this production. She was right at home in the role, and has joined a rather sacred sisterhood. We will hope to see more of Coletti and Roberts on our local stages as they have proven their mettle by so successfully bringing to life, in their own way, characters that have lived in the Trustus gestalt for over a decade. Welcome to Lady Street, ladies.
In the case of Vicky Saye Henderson as Betty, we’re not sure that the stories from Armadillo Acres would have had such a stronghold at Trustus without Henderson leading the proceedings. Seeing Henderson in this role is a masterclass in character creation, and living in the moment on stage. She has lived in this character for thirteen years, and it is a joy to witness it. As soon as she came on stage at the top of the show, one could feel the audience perk up. Sources say that Henderson will be moving North in the near future, so whether or not her final bow on the 17th will be the last time we see her on the Trustus stage - her time as Betty has been a helluva comedic ride and deserving of the standing ovation that occurred on opening night when she took her bow.
The production team gets high marks for their cohesive designs that serve the play, provide effective tempos to push the story forward at all moments, and their work gets just as many laughs as the script. Corey Langley (Scenic Design), Teddy Palmer (Lighting Design) and Matthew DeGuire (Property Design) worked together to create an Armadillo Acres on stage that felt truthfully lived-in. Every detail seemed carefully considered to provide a sense of place, right down to the Florida billboard that veils the band upstage during the performance. Sound Designer Matt Pound and board operator William Kervin dialed in the audio with extraordinary precision. The band actually got to rock, the vocals were as clear as a crystal statue of Tammy Wynette, and the sound effects added to the production with cinematic presence that got a lot of laughs. One has to giggle when considering a sound designer sitting at home with headphones on, trying to find the most effective fart sound.
Speaking of sound, Music Director Randy Moore has also worked on every Trailer Park production since 2010. In his position he has to drive the show and, in turn, is just as responsible for the comedic possibilities. His sense of humor is obvious everytime the band has to signal a character’s changing viewpoint or a curveball that’s thrown into the plot. He also got the cast and band to unite under the umbrella of 80s rock and 90s country music. The performers bring us a touch of Reba with a dash of Garth, and it sounds great.
For those of you who secured tickets to the show, you’re in for a good time with a great team. However, after seeing a couple of people leave at intermission due to being offended, we would recommend you check in with your sensitivities. If you can’t handle a Christmas show with the word “fuck” in it, you might want to give them to a friend who enjoys National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (this musical is like Randy Quaid’s character multiplied).
For those who didn’t get tickets, we hope you’ll look out for “on sale” dates when you see them from our local performing arts organizations in the future. Buying early is better for everyone, the interested-patron and the presenting organization. Since you won’t get to go to the trailer park this Christmas, you can still enjoy the classic songs of Irving Berlin, get spirited away with Ebenezer, or take in that classic ballet where a girl gets drugged at her daddy’s dinner party and falls in love with a guy who eats nuts. You’ll find something to do here in Soda City because, as the residents of Armadillo Acres sing, “FUCK IT, IT’S CHRISTMAS!”
The Great American Trailer Park Christmas Musical runs through December 17th at Trustus Theatre. You may call the box office and ask to be added to the waiting list in case there are any cancellations (which will undoubtedly happen): 803-254-9732.
Ed Madden Celebrates A Story of the City at Historic Columbia
Tuesday December 5th 5 - 7 pm
Boyd Horticultural Center at Hampton Preston
Mansion & Gardens
Join us as we celebrate A Story of the City: Poems Occasional and Otherwise! Published by Muddy Ford Press, this collection of poems was written by Ed Madden during his 8 years as Columbia's first poet laureate.
Hosted by Historic Columbia at the Boyd Horticultural Center, the event will include a short reading by Ed and some special guests, with introduction by Lee Snelgrove, former director of One Columbia, and comments by Robin Waites, executive director of Historic Columbia.
The Horticultural Center is a state-of-the-art greenhouse located behind the Hampton-Preston Mansion. Enter from the back gate on Laurel Street. Street parking available (and evening at the nearby Richland County School District parking lot).
~~~~~
Introducing A Story of the City: Poems Occasional and Otherwise by Ed Madden
I remember the first time I sat at a table with Ed Madden.
Drue Barker, who was coming in as the new director of the women’s studies program at USC, had come to town and Ed, Julia Elliott, and I had taken her down to the Hunter Gatherer pub on the university side of Main Street to chat.
It was sometime in 2007 and I felt like I was among royalty.
I knew of Julia because she sang in the alt-band Grey Egg, which may be the most innovative and eclectic musical group Columbia, SC has ever seen. She had copies of the band’s most recent CD to share with Ed and Drue.
I knew of Ed because it seemed like everyone knew of Ed. A proudly-out gay man, his reputation as a poet and activist set a standard for community engagement. I’ll admit now that these three people, all clearly commanders of their own fates, were a bit intimidating. I was just an adjunct instructor looking to find a new place to grow myself, having spent the last two decades teaching, writing, and watching my daughters grow into adults. If I had known then how many tables Ed and I would sit at together over the years to come, how many projects we would hatch and secrets we would share, I would have taken better note of our surroundings than I did. I would have recorded those observations like historical artifacts of the moment. I would have recognized that I was meeting a person who would play a unique and cherished role in the rest of my life.
Fast forward eight years and I had the proud pleasure of cheering Ed on as he took the title of Poet Laureate for the City of Columbia. A brave and selfless thing to do. Ed embraced the role like it was made for him, working with Lee Snelgrove to create a culture of renegade poetry at the same time that he seamlessly elevated the importance of poetry by creating beautiful and profoundly honest responses to the events that occurred in the life of the city.
As the first poet laureate in the capitol city of a state that has gone without a state poet laureate for three years and counting, Ed’s position took on greater significance than it had to. While South Carolina’s first state poet laureate, Archibald Rutledge, had served a lifetime appointment from 1934 until his death in 1973, followed in succession by Helen Von Kolnitz Hyer, Ennis Rees, Grace Freeman, and Bennie Sinclair, in 2020, Marjory Wentworth, the sixth person to hold the title, left the post and, as late as summer 2023, Governor Henry McMaster had failed to fill the position. In the absence of a government or appointing body following through on its responsibility to maintain the continuity of leadership in the poetic arts, poets throughout the state looked to Ed Madden as their guide. And guide them he did. Soon, city poets laureate were being named throughout the state in Charleston, Greenville, Rock Hill, the Pee Dee, and more.
Why does it mean so much to poets to be represented by an honored one of their own? Several reasons, none of which are monetary. In fact, the small budget once allocated to the state poet laureate was rescinded by former Governor Mark Sanford in 2000. There is a smaller budget for the Columbia city laureate, but it all goes toward supplies needed for various projects and never sees the inside of the laureate’s pocket.
It is validating to wordsmiths of all genres to have an artist among them who represents the importance of the part they play, we play, in the creation of our culture. The poet laureate of a city or state is a role model for all of us who confess our words and perceptions to paper in an attempt to make sense of the chaos that surrounds us. That person reminds us that the act of creative writing is not an exercise in frivolity but rather an important practice in interpreting the turns of events that make up our history.
Similarly, patrons of poetry depend upon the writers among us, especially our poet laureate, to help us find truth in ways that sooth and unite us. Time and again, Ed Madden reminded us that in addition to being a city of individuals whose unique gifts intimately design the world around us, we are also a cohort of creatures living life together at this particular place and time and are forever united by the community we create.
So much has changed over the almost two decades I’ve called Ed Madden my colleague, friend, and collaborator. Neighbors have moved, both to and away from us. Elected officials have come to office, created policy, and moved on. Friends and allies have passed away from us, leaving their own legacies on the landscape of our home. And because Ed Madden used his inimitable gifts to record his perceptions of this community and commit them to paper to preserve for posterity, the record of our lives as citizens of Columbia, South Carolina will live on in the volume—A Story of the City: poems occasional and otherwise, Columbia, SC 2015-2022.
By Cindi Boiter
Reprinted with permission from Jasper Magazine, Fall 2023
Marius Valdes Mounts Massive Exhibition of JOYOUS CREATURES at Koger Center for the Arts
The Koger Center for the Arts’ Upstairs Gallery is now home to the wonderous, whimsical works of Marius Valdes. The featured exhibition is aptly titled “Joyous Creatures,” and will reside in the Upstairs Gallery from December 1, 2023, to March 11, 2024.
Marius Valdes is an artist currently based in Columbia, South Carolina. Valdes has been recognized by design publications such as Graphic Design USA, HOW, Print, Communication Arts, Creative Boom, Creative Quarterly, Step, and industry competitions including American Illustration, and The World Illustration Awards. In 2022, the UK's Creative Boom Website named Valdes as one of its "20 Most Exciting Illustrators" to follow. This recent creative endeavor of Valdes’ holds over 200 paintings on both canvas and paper bags. Those familiar with his work can expect to see big, bright-eyed creatures of all kinds, shapes, and sizes amidst boldly colored backgrounds. Anyone interested in getting a sneak peek at the featured work can visit the exhibit’s website, www.joyouscreatures.com. This website functions as a digital catalog as well as the site to use for any artwork purchases.
Joyous Creatures Artist Statement: Joyous Creatures aims to make you smile or laugh if only for a moment. I celebrate characters and creatures from the imagination whether they are dogs, frogs, blobs, or aliens. Character-based art has the capacity to create memorable and engaging visual language that speaks to people of all ages and nationalities. I use my characters to educate, inform, and entertain.
There will be an opening reception for the exhibition on December 6, 2023, from 5:00 – 7:30 p.m. at the Koger Center’s Upstairs Gallery. The event is free and open to the public, and light refreshments will be provided. For more information, contact the Koger Center at kogercenter@sc.edu, or 803-777-7500.
Poetry of the People: Catherine Zickgraf
This week's Poet of the People is Catherine Zickgraf. Catherine, aka Catherine the Great is a mother hen of poets of all ages, educational backgrounds and genres and is a force in South Carolina and Georgia that reverberates throughout the spoken word and written poetry community. If you don't know her you have resided too long in your little office listening to your own voice or parrots who sound a lot like you.. I am honored to call her friend.
Two lifetimes ago, Catherine Zickgraf performed her poetry in Madrid. Now her main jobs are to write and hang out with her family. Her work has appeared in Pank, Deep Water Literary Journal, and The Grief Diaries. Her chapbook, Soul Full of Eye, is published through Kelsay Books.
Find her on twitter @czickgraf. Watch/read more at www.caththegreat.blogspot.com
Poem to Lost Poems
At the riverbank, she writes
while her letters stretch wings,
slip wind, skim away.
So she shelters her words,
nails wood without hinges to the floor,
singes the threshold and corners.
Groundwater carves the chalk rock.
She’s learning to find the darkness
in the humid chill of earth’s stone web,
in moss-floored pools that shadow-shift
with a breath of candlelight.
Still the arch outside connects the riversides,
brides of the rapids flow home to sea
with the surfaced words of she who
sees now with mind, not eyes.
Where rivers scoop lakes at their estuaries,
a marble she holds encases the oceans.
Seeking the self inside,
she polishes the sky’s eye.
Pulling rope up the riverside,
she swings into the long line of horizon.
Yasou! A Celebration of Life, July 2020
In the Dilation of Eye
We chilled for three days.
But when you started staring
out my back windows into the woods,
I knew I had to return you to the wild.
You have eyes that can mirror earth or sky,
that hide in your environment.
You are oak leaf and grass, aqua and azure.
Take me with you.
Let me swim in your iris
and the well of your pupil
toward horizons and the trees.
Vita Brevis, August 2020
Saving a winged animal
that gets lured in by the porch light
requires at least three human hands:
mine to catch/seal creature from escape
and my helper’s to kill lights/open door
so I can release it into the night.
It’s always been my job to rescue
beings that don’t belong inside
(unless its slithery, bitey, or stingy).
The cats help by gently delivering
me tiny, living lime-green lizards—
so mostly all these complex little
things get returned to roam the earth.
Savannah Dusk
Now is the hour
when cypress trees dim into shadows.
The river is lingering along the bank
in puddles caught among braided roots.
Ageless sky deepens, wavelets go still,
the water seems to slow and fall silent.
This is the ceremony of sinking dusk—
when our reflections turn dark and
dim blues fade in the calmness of night.
Goodnight
Kira and I decided one evening before I had to go in
and get a bath that after bedtime we would call
out our windows to each other from across the alley.
First grade, I was still crazy awake when they’d
tuck me in, the sky so full of daylight. But having her
to talk to at night would be like double-dutching the
telephone lines that crossed the canyon between
our streets—I’d never be bored again. Yet from my
row of homes in my treehouse bedroom two and
a half stories up, the only word I heard was goodnight.
Neuro Logical, January 2021
Somnambulant
When they sleep down deep at night,
she tunnels out the powder room window
into drizzle and mist, hops fence.
She kicks through currents along the curb,
crosses street, descends the bank
toward the creek’s down-streaming sounds.
Twelve and barefoot all summer,
she’s unafraid of treading the pebble beds,
leaps cold rocks to boulders,
splashing the stars of the water.
Breeze moves through the woods,
the moon-lattice shifts around her.
Though curtained with night and still invisible,
she slips back in through the bathroom window—
almost ready come pain of day
when they’ve opened wide their eyes.
Overnight
Into my window fall stars long as dreams, I slip through the screen.
Night grows a poem stretching prima toes to cross street then creek
stepping soft on the forest floor. Over shivering beds of dark stones,
the sparkle-moon follows me home.
Even through moon and drizzle, the train plumes billowing into the
clouds navigate my backyard valley. They vibrate my candle flame
until its last breath sifts out the window, when whistles trail off and
tracks flow into the starlight horizon.
The pines don’t drip with shadows behind our house, out of reach
of the streetlight. Past the creek line bordering our woods, the oak
leaves close their eyes. The creatures of the low sky hush us calm,
I’m returning my mind to its dream.
Origami Poems Project, April 2020
Minimal
In the fullness of summer, mowers decapitate green necks
of dandelions and red clover,
slicing their flowers between matted blades.
We stop gashing our lawn as it’s shocked with October frost.
When the winter wind spreads arms down the valley,
my garden zinnias turn to death and skeletalize.
On the back porch tonight, I reach through the atmosphere,
lengthening glowing arms into space. I ease the moon
from its netted cradle, an egg nested in my palm.
I am minimal, though, under the sky’s dark quilt.
I’m a speck in the weeds of my acre yard
on a tiny rock rounding its ancient orbit.
Visitant, October 2017
The Jasper Project is Thankful
At this time of year at the Jasper Project, we are particularly thankful for the individuals and institutions in our community who help us accomplish our mission of supporting, promoting, and celebrating South Carolina – and particularly Midlands area – artists.
This includes our Beloved Guild Members, our magazine sponsors, and so many people and organizations who lend us a hand when we need it. Among them are …
701 Whaley
Bang Back
Black Nerd Mafia
Capital City Playboys
Central Carolina Community Foundation
Coal Powered Filmworks
Columbia Arts Academy
Columbia Museum of Art
Columbia Music Festival Association
Curiosity Coffee
Friends of Richland Library
Harbison Theatre
Heroes & Dragons
Koger Center for the Arts
Motor Supply Bistro
Muddy Ford Press
One Columbia
Palmetto Opera
Richland Library
Rosewood Music & Arts Festival
Sound Bites Eatery
Sound Bites Eatery
South Carolina Humanities
South Carolina Academy of Authors
South Carolina Philharmonic
The Ernest A. Finney, Jr. Cultural Arts Center
The Meridien Building
The Nickelodeon
Uncle Willies Grocery Store
USC School of Theatre and Dance
Vino Garage
and many many more.
On a Musical Mission The Musical Method Bringing An Indie Film to the Big Screen
When it came time to plan his third indie horror film project, Columbia filmmaker Christopher Bickel admits that he took an unusual route to get to the upcoming Pater Noster and the Mission Of Light, which involves a psychedelic thrift store record find that leads the main characters to a forgotten but murderous cult.
“Rob and Shauna Tansey, who supplied all the cool cars in Bad Girls sent me a message one day, at a point where I still had not figured out what I was going to do for the next movie,” Bickel says. “They had acquired an old school bus that they were planning on painting in psychedelic colors, like Ken Kesey’s ‘Furthur’ bus, and told me if I ever needed it for a movie, they’d have it available. So basically, I wrote a movie around the bus.”
In Bickel’s creative mind, if you have a bus that looks like a hippie cult transport vehicle, you obviously need a cult to ride in it, and if it’s truly psychedelic, the music should be as well.
“I based some of it off of The Source Family, a famous cult that had their own house band called Ya Ho Wa 13, and I found one of their records at a thrift store around that same time so I was obsessing over that rare, valuable record–so I wanted the cult in my movie to be like that, and have their own band.”
Bickel spent many years immersed in the punk and noise scene via his time with In/Humanity, Guyana Punchline, and Anakrid, so his thoughts went immediately to what the music that band might make would be like, and for that part of the process, he called in his many musical friends.
“Before the script was even done I knew that there was going to be an album’s worth of music from the ‘band’ in the movie, so I started asking around, told them what I wanted to do–that I wanted it to sound like music a cult would have made in 1972, if they were a little ahead of their time, and these are some of the themes in the movie–and I asked them all to get together and bring in their ideas for songs.”
The sessions at the Jam Room included a cast of musicians in and around Columbia, from Sean Thomson to Marshall Brown, Joe Buck Roberts, Stan Gardner, Kevin Jennings, Gina Ercolini, Alex McCollum, Darby Wilcox, Kevin Brewer, Tom Coolidge, and more, over what Bickel describes as a ‘miraculous’ two days.
“It should have been awful, but I feel like it’s the best record that’s ever come out of Columbia,” Bickel says. “Everyone showed up the first day and all the songs they had come up with were great. Everyone just played on each other’s stuff, adding parts, and locking in quickly. We came up with the basic bones for the entire album in those two days.”
As part of the promotional push to finish financing the film production and distribution, Bickel shot individual music videos for the album tracks and began releasing them once a week in November–two are out so far, with another due each week until they are all available online.
“Come Out and Sing, Father,” sets the scene perfectly of a slightly off kilter, cult choir sing-along. It’s a composition by guitarist and songwriter Joe Buck Roberts, who sings the lead atop a chorus of multiple voices and instruments including a zither, flute, violin, and more.
“A World Of Our Own,” increases the psychedelia with a song composed and sung by Stan Gardner that echoes the ‘80s paisley underground, but with a more danger-filled undercurrent.
It is the multiple levels of input from musicians such as Gardner, Roberts, and others that makes Bickel heap praise on how things turned out.
“There are three people that I think are mega-geniuses who worked on the music–not that everyone wasn’t amazing,” Bickel says. “Sean Thomson, Joe Buck Roberts, and Marshall Brown. Sean has a couple of instrumental pieces that he did which are perfect for the film, and Marshall gets the psychedelic stuff but he also gets the pop stuff and he and Sean both can just come up with so much on the spot, for songs they didn’t even write, had just heard for the first time and their parts just came right out.”
Of the remaining tracks yet to see full release, there are some that verge on Hawkwind psych-metal, hippie flower power era songcraft powered by Greenville’s soulful alt-country singer Darby Wilcox, and plenty of trippy, cult-ish chanting and vocalizing. Tim Cappello, the shirtless sax player from the ‘80s movie The Lost Boys, plays sax on one song, even. It’s a heady mixture of musical montage-making that’s potent even without the eventual pairing of the film visuals.
The craziest part of this story isn’t that a bunch of cool music got made for an indie film, however. It’s that the film isn’t even done, and Bickel himself hasn’t quite figured it all out yet.
“The film is not edited yet, and I haven’t put it all together so I’m not exactly sure where the music will fit, or even if all of it will fit,” he admits. “There will be some pieces that may not be in the movie at all, but I still consider them part of the ‘world’ of the film.”
It is that world-building that is the most intriguing part of making this film, Bickel adds, and how each step has led to the next in its creation.
“It was important to me that I had the world established first,” he says. “I have the short film in the can, ‘Wunderlawn,’ and the music kind of informed what we did for the short film, and then the short film has informed what we did in the feature. When we came together to do the shooting for the feature, there was already a world established for the actors to draw on for their performances.”
So, why do it in such an odd sequence? For Bickel, it comes down to one word: money.
“In a way it would make a lot more sense if the music came out closer to the release of the movie,” he says. “Because I don’t have any money, I have to raise money to finish the movie and the music has been the best way to support that effort– ‘Here’s something entertaining for free, and if you like it you can buy the record of it and if you buy the record of it that will pay for finishing the movie, which is the ultimate goal.”
Each film he has made, Bickel has raised the stakes, and the budget, to realize his vision for the next one.
“The first two were around $15-16,000 budgets, just enough to pay the actors and feed everybody. This one is coming in around $20-25,000,” He reveals. “Some of that came from donations before we started, there was also a little profit from Bad Girls and then the rest is what I’m trying to raise now. It would be nice if I could make enough to keep doing them.”
Poetry of the People with Kimberly Simms Gibbs
This week's Poet of the People is Kimberly Simms Gibbs. She is South Carolina upcountry poetry. She sees with an eye of southern cornbread sopped in pork drippings gravy. If you want to feel the Carolina hills and mountains read Kimberly Simms Gibbs.
Kimberly's literary voice is rooted in the Southern tradition of storytelling. Her passion for poetry from both the page to the stage has led Kimberly to garner titles such as former Carl Sandburg NHS Writer-in-residence, National Poetry Slam ‘Legend of the South’, TedX speaker, co-founder of CarolinaPoets, former Southern Fried Poetry Slam Champion, and award-winning teaching artist. In her first full-length collection from Finishing Line Press, Lindy Lee: Songs on Mill Hill, Kimberly chronicles the lives of textile workers in the Carolinas with historical accuracy and imaginative insight. Ron Rash, the award-winning author of Serena, says about Kimberly: "she writes with eloquence and empathy about an important part of Southern history - too often neglected."
Trespassing after the Hysterectomy
The Lily-of-the-Valley
pearly bells tremble
the way a child’s mouth brims
with laughter.
Daffodils
headless green arms gesture
split-hearts subterranean
leaves blackened.
Mole,
how sweet is your tongue
after your feast of bitter
tulip daughters?
Dark earth,
how do you embrace the emptiness
of your bloomless womb
your crumbling tubers?
Lady Slipper,
my gloved hands long to plant
while your tendrils more exotic
unfurl sharp leaves, pregnant blossom
beneath the last living hemlock.
Homestead
But nothing is solid and permanent.
Our lives are raised on the shakiest foundations.
– Ron Rash, One Foot in Eden
A bolt of barbed wire, black with age,
hints the way, jutting from the undergrowth
like a wizened digit— the post long since decayed
and lost to the crumbling host of litter.
This sunken corner is a garbled message
till we catch a tree pierced with another barb.
A stone pile murmurs, entangled with the metal.
This forest expands in every direction.
Our eyes can see no horizon beyond it.
Mountains surge as we weave
up and down valleys, creeks, and ravines.
Eighty years: a forest has fallen and regrown.
Homestead cleared, tilled, planted, harvested
then reclaimed by this hummocked beast.
We follow the ancient line back to a single
hearthstone and the outline of a foundation.
A toppled stone wall, a brown bottle.
All around us: a forgotten fence, an outpost of the past.
Wild Green Soup
Newberry Cotton Mill Village
South Carolina 1924
Fingers of frost stretch across the windows.
Seasoned wood crackles in the wood stove
while I stir the last salty pork knuckle
with a handful of beans, wild greens
into a stock pot just off the boil.
Fall's harvest now a collection of empty jars;
the cupboards breath -- dust, dead moths.
Each stir is more a wish as the day considers
getting warm, sweet herbs summon cravings.
Morning casts its pink sap over frost-risen clay
as I shepherd this thinly-feathered brood
towards the cotton-strewn spinning room.
Today we will piece broken strings, weave
cotton scraps to make them something whole.
Liddy Lee Songs on Mill Hill (Finishing Line Press, 2017)
Machine Tool Salesman
Bill run that grinder fo ten years
Machine bigger than a brown bear
in Manny's stretched machine shop
in the flats of South Carolina.
The metallic cold milled slack snow
big sloppy flakes. The guys put on
their coats and stuck out their tongues
for the rare southern crystals.
Scraping together snowball heaps,
they watched the yard go dark and drank
black coffee. They stomped their feet
and left their coats on cause the shop
was so cold. That year so metallic.
That's how it happened, the coat.
Bill knew better, but ten years
you get so easy. The machine caught
him-- metal grinding machine --instant.
I sold them that grindernew.
Just horrible, he had two little babies too.
Took a week to get him out of the wheel
but it still ran. Can't keep a machine
something like that happens. I sold
it down the coast. Just horrible, two little
babies too and that year so metallic cold.
Summer Swagger
Late August, we are still free summer children.
We run over the rocky banks laughing in some
chase game; muscles flex, tense, stretch, climb
the steep --- dig fingers into cracks, wrench ourselves up.
Mountain expanse of water calls to us. My skin
tingles with nervousness as I look down thirty feet.
"Take my hand," you tender, "We'll jump together."
Wind races around my feet! We send out seagull wails,
steal breath for the plunge. My body is a scream!
Down, down forever in bubbles, then buoyant, silent,
We are carp pulling ourselves up through the water.
We burst back into heat, hollowing out triumphant bellows.
REVIEW: Danielle Howle's New Album – Current
South Carolina’s most unique musical export for decades now, Danielle Howle has had previous brushes with the music business to no avail, at least in terms of popular success. Musically, she’s always charted her own passage through bands, labels, and the ups and downs of life as a nearly starving musician. That her spirit remains intact and has matured into the masterful artistic voice that it is could be construed as a minor miracle, but we’re the ones who marvel at her resilience.
Back on a nationally distributed record label for the first time in a decade, Howle doesn’t take the opportunity to ‘kitchen sink’ the production on **Current;* in fact it’s quite the opposite effect. She is backed by a spare combo featuring Josh Roberts on guitar, Kerry Brooks on bass, and some tasty accordion licks courtesy of Tony Lauria from Spottiswoode and His Enemies along with percussion via several players including Jim Brock and Eric Rickert. The resulting sound should be comfortingly familiar to anyone who’s seen her play a solo, duo, or trio show over the past few years. After so many different experiments and arrangements of her music, this simple approach really seems to suit her, and her songs, the best.
There are moments when she drifts into sounds that are unusual in her own repertoire, such as “How Is Rain,” where she manages to channel Nina Simone via Joni Mitchell in service to a bossa nova beat. More often, however, she’s a product of her own unique muse. It combines close to the bone lyricism with a folk singer’s unaffected, authentic voice, informed by the same kind of blues and country strains that produced similarly difficult to categorize artists from Bonnie Bramlett to Maggie Bell, Susan Tedeschi and Dayna Kurtz.
The album opens with the strummed blast-off statement of existence in the face of adversity “Live Through” and closes with a new take of a song she’s released before, the fan favorite country weeper, “While I Miss You.” In between, she wrangles a near-Tejano “I’m Alright,” (the turn of a phrase chorus adds, “Don’t get me wrong,” in true country music fashion), conducts what sounds like a personal reassessment of her own career in the swaying, reflective “Back In The Sun” (When I’m stumbling past the humblin, past the crumblin in the world…”), and pays Tom Petty a visit with a gothic, bluesy version of “Southern Accents” that’s so perfect for her that it barely sounds like a cover tune.
The songwriting centerpiece, however, might be the intense, surrealistic “Damage Appears On The Frame.” It hearkens back to her earlier, simpler work when she was trying to fit too many words in too small a musical space, but with the benefit of years of experience she’s now able to spill her thoughts in a cascade of emotions and imagery, as her voice gets stronger and more overwrought until the final lines:
“My friends we’re laughing and joking, at last it takes aim, how slowly the damage appears on the frame.”
It’s one of those songs that could mean different things to different listeners, so I’ll refrain from coloring the page with my own interpretation here and just note that it hits home for this aging music fan, just as this album should hit all the right sweet spots for fans of acoustic folk/country/Americana/whatever that is.
Listen to the Album
– Kevin Oliver
Poetry of the People with Loli Molina Munoz
This week's Poet of the People is Loli Molina Munoz. Loli openly shares her otherliness and in the sharing becomes one of us. Diaspora of a Spanish Tortilla (Recipe and Poem); is exquisitely simple in telling complex emotions.
IT’S THANKSGIVING AND I AM NOT AMERICAN
It’s Thanksgiving and I’m not American.
I have cooked turkey, mashed potatoes,
collard greens, cranberry sauce, and stuffing.
My husband has dressed up the house
with fall colors and he is not American.
A friend has come to share this rainy
day and he is not American.
The dog is staring at us hoping to
get some table food and he is not American.
We have toasted and remembered some
old friends who are not American.
We are thankful for having each other
and we are not American.
I HAVE AN ACCENT
I have an accent
When I go to the grocery store
and they ask me if I found everything I needed
I answer “yes”
they say: you have an accent!
This accent is my grandmother’s sewing for the rich
and waiting from my grandfather to return from Venezuela.
When I order a tall decaf coffee with milk
and I spell my name
they say: you have an accent!
This accent is my mother’s cleaning houses
so I could fly abroad and improve my English.
When I read a poem
and your faces change trying to understand
what I say and
you think: she has an accent!
This accent is their braided hands delivering the fruit
that I will place in your still empty basket.
THE GOOD DISHES
“But they are grounded
in their God and their families
they are grounded in their hearts and minds.”
-Nikki Giovanni
my mother keeps the
good dishes in an old
cabinet after fifty
years hoping I have
them someday, she also
holds onto a coffee
set and a quilt she
made before she got
married, your dowry
she says while she shows
one of her few smiles
buried in a deep wide
hole digged by my father
covered with her dreams
and my nightmares
long lasting nightmares
my mother possesses
the first and the last
of my days, the
first and the last of
my nights, the fist
and the last of
my
thoughts.
ON ALL SAINTS DAY
Don’t leave me.
Those were your last
words.
And we left you.
We closed the door
and we went home.
Your eyes were begging for more
time with us, more time alive.
But we left you
abuela Lola.
And the morning after
you were gone.
And the memories became
a attempt to order the chaos.
My chaos.
Diaspora of a Spanish Tortilla
(Recipe and poem)
I
Ingredients for 4 people
2 cups of Spanish extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons of Spanish extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound of potatoes
6 eggs
Salt
II
My mothers tells me it’s time to go to bed before the Three Wise Men come with the presents. I have to cook the tortilla for them, she says, and I think it’s not fair I don’t get to taste the mixture before being cooked. I close my eyes and I think about the smell of the potatoes and the eggs before jumping into the pan.
III
Heat 2 cups of olive oil in a medium pan, slowly fry the potatoes until beautiful golden brown. Drain the potatoes on a paper towel.
IV
It’s 1997 and I am an exchange student in Coventry, England. The first week someone organizes a party at our house. I don’t remember who. It wasn’t me. Everyone brings something for their countries. I cooked tortilla the same way my mother taught me. We eat, we drink, and we sing songs that we all know.
V
Beat the eggs in a bowl with 1 teaspoon of salt. Add the cooked potatoes to the beaten eggs and let stir for 1 minute.
VI
Last night I went early to bed as my mother told me and this morning Melchior came home with a present for me. It was the doll I wanted. Her tortilla must have been really good this year.
VII
Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a 6-inch pan over high heat. Once the oil is hot, pour the egg-potato mixture and reduce the heat to low.
VIII
Last week I cooked a tortilla for lunch and he smiled when he saw it. This is so good, he said. You are even better, I thought.
IX
Once it begins to set and the edges turn golden brown, place a plate over the pan and flip the pan and the plate so the tortilla ends up on the plate, uncooked side down.
X
Wisconsin was cold, too cold for a Southern Spaniard used to the sun and the scent of the Mediterranean. Someone asked me to make a tortilla but this time it didn’t flip right. I had to go back to Spain.
XI
Once the tortilla set, flip the tortilla again and transfer to a platter. Season with salt and cut into wedges to serve.
XII
In 2006 my mother confessed that she never cooked tortilla for the Three Wise Men. I was so disappointed that I cried. I was 32. I was 32 and I cried. And I never stopped making tortillas.
Bio
Loli Molina Muñoz is a Spanish teacher in Lexington, SC, with a Phd in Modern Languages. Her poetry has appeared in different Spanish and American publications and anthologies like VoZes, Label Me Latin and Jasper Fall Lines. In 2019, she published an essay on gender and sex identity in feminist science fiction as part of an anthology called Infiltradas. This anthology was awarded as Best Essays Anthology by the Spanish Science Fiction Society Awards in 2020.
David West Closes Out the 2023 Nook Lineup – Jasper Galleries
Our last resident artist of 2023 in the Koger Center’s Nook Gallery is David West. West is currently a visual arts teacher and the Fine Arts Department Dean at White Knoll High School in Lexington, SC. West’s formal education in the arts includes a year of Commercial Art training in a vocational school, a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Painting, and a Master of Arts in Teaching with a focus on Art Education. For 13 years, West worked as a graphic designer, relishing the challenge of crafting designs that met the needs of diverse clients.
His journey into teaching art began when he took on the role of organizing and conducting figure drawing sessions for the “About Face” figure study group at the Columbia Museum of Art. Encouragement from fellow art educators within the group led him to explore a career in art education.
Art has been a constant companion for West throughout his life, operating as “an enduring source of inspiration and fascination.” His artistic journey was shaped by the influential figures in his family, particularly his mother, who loved painting, and his grandfather, whom he calls “a true Renaissance man” due to his background in architecture and talent for engineering, drawing, painting, and designing. While harboring an interest in multiple forms of visual art, West has been enamored with woodcut printmaking ever since he participated in the printmaking program at the University of South Carolina.
In his upcoming show in the Nook, there is work from West’s past, examples made from high school art lessons, and some of his current work. He often draws from the “canvas of [his] own life experiences” as he weaves personal narratives into universal themes in his work. He aims to create art that resonates with the viewer on an emotional level, avoiding overt or blatant expressions of ideas. He encourages the viewer to bring their unique feelings and experiences to his work, connecting his artistic expression to their own life stories. He views his work as a bridge, inviting others to explore and reflect on the shared human experience while his own artistic journey continues to evolve and inspire.
The opening reception for West’s exhibit is November 17, 2023, from 5:30 – 7 p.m. and will be up until January of 2024. The reception is free and open to the public.
REVIEW – The Legend of Georgia McBride at Longstreet Theatre
The show runs from November 10-17 starting at 8p.m. with matinees on the 11th and 12th at 3 p.m.
Georgia McBride opens on Casey, performing his Elvis impersonation act at Cleo’s, a dive bar in Panama City FL. Casey is a rather decent “Elvis” (though Casey’s estimation of his skill is higher than mine). Casey, bless his heart, believes he is on the proverbial cusp of stardom. So certain is he of his impending fame that he purchases a new white jumpsuit befitting The King. After the show Casey heads home to his wife, Jo, only to have his excitement flattened by her pronouncement that the rent check bounced – again – because of Casey’s propensity to use the debit card before checks have cleared. The young couple is threatened with eviction. Not only are they unable to make ends meet, they aren’t able to make those ends wave at each other. Jo unleashes her frustration on Casey and storms out of the room. She returns moments later to announce, proof in hand, that she’s pregnant. Casey is over the moon happy and exuberantly embraces Jo, proclaiming that they will be the best parents “since Mary and Joseph”. Jo reminds him that “their kid died”…
Casey returns to Cleo’s the next night and performs for the usual small house. Afterwards the club owner, Eddie, tells Casey that the club is going in a new direction in an effort to increase business. Eddie has hired his cousin Bobby to be the nightly performer. Casey pleads for another chance which Eddie cannot/will not give. Enter Bobby, aka Miss Tracy Mills - a tall, gorgeous, awe-inspiring drag queen, followed by her co-star, Rexy (full name Anorexia Nervosa. She’s Italian.) Casey is devastated. Tracy suggests he stay on as bartender, which he grudgingly agrees to do. After all, he now has a family to support. In an unsurprising twist, Rexy gets absolutely totally thoroughly and completely wasted before going onstage. Eddie storms in and demands that Casey go on in her place – not as “Elvis”, but as Rexy’s “Edith Piaf”. Casey has never heard of Piaf. Quelle surprise.
Rexy’s binge results in Miss Tracy Mills’ split-second funny clever and “how the hell did she do that” transformation of Casey from Florida cracker to drag queen. Using padding, pantyhose, false eyelashes, a wig, and non-stop performance tips, Tracy deftly “creates” Edith Piaf (well…sort of….). (The last time I saw a transformation like that was watching Jim E. Quick and John Erlanger in Greater Tune at Longstreet.).
Casey is not thrilled with doing drag. He is after all a straight white guy from rural Florida. He has no firsthand knowledge of the art of drag or of the gay community. However, he manages to stumble through his act and somehow the audience buys it. He starts bringing home enough money to pay all their expenses with money left over.
He is embarrassed by what he’s doing and so does not tell Jo. As far as she knows he has a really good bartending gig. He is caught out in the lie but I’m not giving up any spoilers there.
This show could easily have been a contrived caricature. In the deft hands of Jessica Fichter and Terrance Henderson (Director and Choreographer/Drag Consultant, respectively), Matthew López’s script is a study in not just the art of Drag (and it is an art) but in humanity. Casey treats this as an “act” only. Tracy explains that it’s far more than an act for her and for Rexy and for countless other drag queens. When Rexy re-enters, she gives an explosive monologue on the true meaning of the art; “Drag is a Protest”. (Ms. Fichter’s director’s notes in your program explain the historical importance of drag far better than I can here. Read it.)
I saw the show’s preview. There were some halting deliveries at the beginning but those few were quickly smoothed out as the show progressed. Every member of the cast deserves kudos. Terrance Henderson (Miss Tracy Mills) is a gift. He creates a Tracy who is sharp-tongued, witty, and acerbic but who is also caring, empathetic, and (dare I say) motherly. Keyontaye Allison is Rexy, a most bodacious, assertive, fractious drag queen. Rexy’s monologue (mentioned above) is fierce. Anyone who listens to that speech will never again treat drag as “fluff”. Dear Jo, Casey’s truly long-suffering wife, is played by Morgan Passley. Her Jo is frustrated, but she is married to a human bubble machine. Being the only “adult” member of a marriage is a thankless task, but Ms. Passley’s Jo is also funny, clever, and kind. John Ballard plays Jason, the landlord/neighbor/friend faced with evicting Jo and Casey. He balances his conflicting “roles” beautifully. (He also really knows how to fall off the arm of a sofa.) David Britt either had an absolute blast playing Eddie, or he’s an even better actor than I know him to be. His character grows and transforms as much as Casey’s. And Casey, the reluctant drag queen. In the hands of Koby Hall Cayce goes from head-in-the-clouds, youthful Elvis impersonator to a splendid Georgia McBride. His “ah-ha!” moment when he suddenly recognizes his drag “persona” is wonderful to see.
Brava to Ashley Jensen, Lindsay K. Wilkinson, Lorna Young, Danielle Wilson, Makenzie Payne, Marybeth Gorman. Lamont Gleason, Valerie Pruett, and Lisa Gavaletz. Every aspect of this production deserves applause. I’d forgotten how much I love Longstreet Theatre. Ms. Jensen’s set design utilizes the levels and the voms and takes advantage of every corner of the space. Costumes, makeup, lights, sound, and traffic direction were spot on. A very special thanks to Terrance Henderson. He and Ms. Fichter make a formidable team. I truly don’t know how this show could’ve been produced without the two of them. (If you missed their “Little Shop of Horrors” at Trustus earlier this year, I hate it for you.)
This show was just delightful. And thought-provoking. And gorgeous. Don’t miss it.
Notes: There is considerable construction going on along Main Street between Greene and College Streets, so those on-street parking spots are gone. There is after-hours parking in the Wardlaw College lot next to Drayton Hall. The production runs about 2 hours with no intermission, so keep that in mind whilst having another cocktail before the show.
Caroline Hatchell: Full Circle Experiences with Bead Weaving
Our resident Tiny Gallery artist of November is Caroline Hatchell. A jewelry maker known for her intricate traditional bead weaving, we are honored to carry her earrings for the rest of the month to purchase! We spoke to Caroline about her creative tendencies, what drives her to create, and more.
JASPER: Was art in your family/childhood?
HATCHELL: As a child of the seventies, I grew up a latch key kid. I spent most of my time running free along the banks of the Congaree River. I did not have much art influence in my childhood home, but I was always drawn to creative endeavors. I remember I liked making mini bouquets out of the tiniest wildflowers. I also remember art in elementary school was very special and I always tried to make my "make and take projects" unique.
JASPER: Did you go to school for it or are you self-taught?
HATCHELL: I am a self-taught artist. My journey from weaving seed beads led me to eventually owning my own bead and jewelry supply retail store where I continued my journey to explore every facet of jewelry design.
JASPER: What led you to the medium you work with now?
HATCHELL:I picked up some seed beads at a local craft store when I was in high school. At that time, the quality of seed beads was low. I taught myself to weave the beads together, intuitively doing a traditional Native American weaving technique called peyote stitch. Seed bead weaving was natural, initiative and in tune with my spirit. While I enjoyed other aspects of jewelry design, eventually I came full circle, back to where I began, bead weaving.
JASPER: Tell me about the themes or ideas you usually chase in your work.
HATCHELL: Sometimes the patterns I use, find me, other times I choose things that emotionally engage my spirit. The raven, the snake, and the moon, for example, repeat in various forms and patterns in my work because they call to my spirit. I consider them spirit messengers.
JASPER: Tell me about the journey you embark on when you create, both emotional and literal/mechanical.
HATCHELL: I am continually at play. Beadwork is spirit medicine for me. When your spirit is called, you listen. Bead weaving is a very slow methodical, and meditative process. Hours and hours are spent on each piece, and since I make earrings, when I am done with one, I start over and do it again.
JASPER: What kind of pieces have you decided to show for Tiny Gallery?
HATCHELL: This showing is a collection of some of my favorite works from the last year. Some simple designs, some more complex designs. I had the highest intention to create a new body of work for this tiny gallery show but the universe had bigger plans for me. My spirit was suddenly called to make a great transformation. A transition to a new way of living, one that is in tune with my higher purpose.
JASPER: What’s your favorite memory and/or experience as an artist so far?
HATCHELL: I have a tremendous amount of gratitude surrounding my work. I am grateful for the knowledge I so intuitively possess; I consider that a sacred gift. I am also incredibly grateful that I am afforded the opportunity to do work that is authentic to who I am. I am also grateful that people have responded so positively to my work. My patrons seem to recognize, honor, and respect the skill, tradition and wisdom traditional bead weaving represents.
JASPER: What’s in the future for you? And where can we see your art after this show?
HATCHELL: Now that spirit has led me down a new path, settling high in Appalachian Mountains of NC, I am excited to see what unfolds for me here. Next up is to learn the traditional art of Appalachian heirloom weaving and learn the stories of the Appalachian women who wove these tiny mountain communities together. I also plan to continue bead weaving and just exploring the botany, and beauty of this place. Everything will happen exactly how it is meant to. If patrons are interested in future offerings, or custom beadwork, that information can be found on my website www.carolinehatchell.com.
OPEN CALL FOR LOCAL ARTISTS: CAE is Now Accepting Submissions for the 2024 – 2025 Art in the Airport Program
Calling all professional artists! The Columbia Metropolitan Airport (CAE) is now accepting submissions for the 2024 – 2025 Art in the Airport program.
Now in its fifth year, the wildly popular program showcases the artistic talents of four artists selected from across the Columbia region. Each artist will have the opportunity to display their work in the busiest part of the airport for roughly three months.
The Art in the Airport program not only enhances the passengers’ experience while traveling through CAE, but it also creates an immediate sense of place to those visiting Columbia, SC. Once a traveler lands at CAE, these pieces of art are the first creative and cultural touchpoints they see as a connection to the region.
Would you like your artwork to be considered for this prestigious program? Below are details on how an artist can submit artwork and the guidelines associated with the program.
Submission Requirements:
To apply for CAE’s Art in the Airport program, please email the following information to submissions@flycae.com by November 30, 2023 at 5 p.m.
Name, address, phone, email, website (if applicable)
Artist bio
Artist statement
At least five images representing the type of artwork anticipated to be on display.
*Note: Artists must reside in one of the following Midlands counties: Calhoun, Fairfield, Kershaw, Lexington, Orangeburg, Richland, Saluda, Sumter, Lee, Clarendon, Newberry, and Aiken.
Selection Process:
Submissions will be reviewed by CAE’s selection committee. Artists selected for the rotating art exhibit will be notified December 15th with a public announcement on December 19th.
Exhibit Requirements:
The exhibition location will be in the connector of the terminal, the walkway between the security checkpoint and the departure/arrival gates. Selected exhibits must contain a minimum of twelve pieces as there are twelve wall columns in the location, six on each side of the walkway. (Multiple images/clustered pieces of work can be arranged on one column if desired/space allows).
CAE will provide labels for each piece in the exhibit to include artists’ name, contact information and the title, dimensions, type of medium and selling price of the piece. CAE will also provide signage for the exhibit to include the artist’s bio and/or statement.
Exhibitions must be physically suited to the space, allowing for uninterrupted traffic flow. If selected, artists agree to suitably frame, wire and install their artwork at their own expense. Artists must be willing to sign CAE’s Artwork Loan and Hold Harmless Agreement.
Selected artists are welcome to preview the exhibit location by contacting Samantha Kingsmore, Marketing Manager, at S.Kingsmore@flycae.com, as a staff escort is required to access the location.
Insurance:
Art displayed at CAE is insured by the Columbia Metropolitan Airport while on site; however, the transportation to and from the airport is not covered. Prior to installation, the selected artists will provide CAE with a description of the exhibit pieces to include the title and value of each piece.
Things to Know:
CAE does not charge artists to exhibit their work but will require a 5% commission on all pieces sold. This commission will be reinvested into the CAE Art in the Airport program – enhancing display opportunities and required signage. All art transactions must be conducted between CAE, the artist, and the purchaser.
Vista Lights at Stormwater Studios
Thursday, November 16, 2023
6 PM to 9 PM
Join Stormwater Studios for an evening of art, lights, and entertainment during the 38th
Annual Vista Lights.
This evening will mark the opening of Stormwater Resident Artists’ Semi-Annual Exhibition in our gallery. In addition to a live performance from local drummers, Namu Drum Company, underneath our massive Christmas tree, and you can view our new container adorned with lights.
Their neighbors Lewis + Clark and One Eared Cow Glass will also be participating in this event. Their spaces will be open for everyone to see where they create using metal and flames.
You will be able to stop at all of these locations to see a variety of creative workspaces, meet local artists, and purchase the perfect present, an original piece of art.
You don’t want to miss out on this great family event. All are welcome. Please invite your friends, family, and community to 413 Pendleton Street, Columbia, SC 29201.