From Basic Hand building to Basket weaving, we have something for everyone! Discover the various art classes we offer and enroll today: https://buff.ly/3qUYVvS

The ArtsCenter acknowledges and celebrates the unique backgrounds that each person brings to our community. We affirm that diversity, equity, and inclusion is like art in that it is constantly evolving and is created from a place of authenticity and passion.

ArtsCenterLive.org

Home For the Holidays

This December, our galleries will feature three local artists, Elaine O’Neil, Steven Ray Miller and Lori Melliere, all of whom create art celebrating our local towns and state. They all will hang wall art from originals to prints and will also have other giftable items available for purchase such as calendars, notecards, dishtowels, stickers, puzzles and more!

Plan your visit today! Visit our website to find out what’s new at ArtsCenterLive.org! 

Meet the Muralist: JP Jermaine Powell

This Summer, The ArtsCenter embarked on an exciting new chapter in our 45-year history: our new Public Art initiative! Working with a panel of local artists, educators, and community leaders, we reviewed over 20 applications from mural artists and teams, eventually selecting artist JP Jermaine Powell to create the final design. The community engagement process of this project combined a public survey with a socially distanced community photoshoot where Carrboro residents could have their picture taken for inclusion in the design.

JP has been working hard on this mural on the side of Gray Squirrel Coffee in downtown Carrboro’s East Main Square for the last few months. Now that the project is finished, we sat down to ask him some questions about his work, his experience in Carrboro, and what he learned from the project.

What role can public art play in creating cohesion in a community?

JP: I think that the We Are Community mural is a great example of how there are individuals with so much history and so many stories to tell that share a common bond, a common location. The Carrboro community is like a tapestry or a living quilt full of beautiful experiences.

What did you observe or learn about Carrboro from the community outreach that you did this Fall?  

JP: The people who live in Carrboro are very proud to live and work in Carrboro. There is a lot of love here also. There is a genuine respect and affection between people based on what I’ve seen doing the mural. That’s what changed around the halfway point in the mural. I really wanted to capture the love that people have for their friends and family.

Why do you think there is so much more public art in the area now during the COVID-19 pandemic? 

JP: I’ve noticed that my eyes are windows to my soul. And what I see or don’t see can influence how you are and what you do both personally and professionally. Maybe you feel that way too? The pandemic has been been a time for growth and reflection for some. A woman told me that while I was painting the mural. She said, “The world seems slower now and I think people are returning to nature; the things that make the world so beautiful.” Public art is a way to communicate messages on a large scale. I think people now have just a little bit more time to see the world around them with less social distractions.

How do you contrast doing public art from the other types of art that make up your practice? 

JP: Well, public art is about how the art, the artist and the public interact especially doing such a personal mural such as We Are Community. When I’m in the studio, I’m alone and thinking about how my audience will react to a painting or a sculpture. With public art projects, I get real-time feedback from the actual people who are directly affected by this new “thing” in their neighborhood. On a personal note, the many conversations, smiles and encouragement greatly added to the success of the the We Are Community mural. The Carrboro community gave me the will and energy to complete a 20 portrait, 21 figure wall.

What makes a piece of public art successful?

JP: I don’t know truly, to be honest. I mean, I have my personal goals as an artist to myself and my artist community. But also there are many stakeholders in the process and many opinions. Some artists talk about the horrible experiences of making a public project, but the results can be amazing. And in some projects, some public art sponsors might not be happy with the direction a project ended up, but the general public and artist are happy. I guess that’s why there are so many public art pieces popping up because each piece or project has a different story to be told. The process is just as important as the end result sometimes. I’ve made so many new friends and connections during this We Are Community mural project. This experience is priceless; I would never want to not remember all the people who helped make this mural what it is. Public art in ever changing communities is a never ending story with a variety of attempts. It’s just like an artist painting fifty canvases and maybe two are recognized as good or great. What about the other forty-eight?

What advice would you give to someone who wanted to get into painting murals or creating public art? 

JP: I get these questions a lot. My main advice is:

Get to know yourself. Public art can be difficult as far as dealing with criticism and fast paced changes. You need to learn when you get tired, how many hours you can work in a day, dealing with creating in front of audience.

Get to know and genuinely like other people. Dealing with the community is also a part of the project, meaning that you need to enjoy being alone but also enjoy people. I literally lived in Carrboro for a month, absorbing the culture, learning the faces of twenty individuals by painting them!

Be flexible. Project changes can come fast. My challenge from the mural survey feedback was to integrate all the great things about Carrboro into one amazing image that for the most part, people can enjoy. I had to make changes on the fly sometimes so being flexible can be an asset. Also advice from others can make projects even greater. Marketing Director of The ArtsCenter Patrick Phelps-McKeown’s observations really helped with making all of the elements work in the mural during the design phase.

Have a message. Remember the art is public. Even if the message isn’t as clear to public as it is clear to artist or stakeholder, having a message helps justify the reason for the public art. If any objections or feedback is made, the meaning and intent of the project can help smooth things over 

Stay in shape. Simply put, stay healthy. On this mural I was up on ladders and scaffolds. It’s a physical process to make murals. I also worked on this project in the wind, rain and snow. I worked in the early morning and at night so make sure your body and mind stay relatively as healthy as they can be.

For more information on JP, and to purchase his work, visit:

Art History In The Making. Art, Murals, and More at jermainepowell.com

Student Work: Sky Watch

Sky Watch by Jennifer Salter

Sitting in lotus pose alongside the dunes shoreline waves   breaking sky and ocean divide                garbage truck compacting plastic-glass-cans-bags-umbrellas-chairs, a fortissimo clash separate silence. 

storm winds shift while beneath me the tectonic plates a foundation                 unfasten embedded interactions, a disruptive witness surround human, unyielding to gull squawks judgment confines, bones ache.

___________________________

Sitting in lotus pose alongside the dunes   sea oats transplanting           my palpable sigh trapped, inside the plastic ring, a gull eye watches, broken wing. 

view cloud, as if spirit, wings open                stillness, the rehearsal assignment spine straight, breathing slows, quiet mind, earth healing over time.

This poem was created by student Jennifer Salter in Dina Greenberg's recent creative writing class, Writing to Heal Mother Earth. Photo by the author.

Art in a Pandemic: James Keul

As the Coronavirus pandemic reorganizes our lives, many of us are turning to the arts to provide insight, human connection, and healing. The ArtsCenter’s online learning programs allow students of all ages stay creative, learn new skills, and maintain meaningful relationships with others from the comfort of their own home.

The ArtSchool is excited to welcome Durham fine artist and instructor James Keul to our arts education program. We spoke with him about his practice during the crisis and what students will learn in his first online workshop on Saturday, August 8th, Plein Air Painting Looking Out Your Window. Students can register for this workshop here!

What does your art and teaching practice look like in normal conditions?

I typically spend an equal amount of time working in the studio as I do outside, painting en plein air in nature. In my studio, at Golden Belt, in Durham, I have been working on a large figurative series and I do printmaking, especially monotypes. 

How has Coronavirus impacted your art and teaching practice? 

This is a good question and one that I have been thinking about a lot.  As a parent of a five year-old boy, who I have with me 3-4 days a week, having no access to childcare has been a huge challenge. Because I have so little time to devote to painting, I felt that it wasn’t practical to use oil paint, which is my go-to medium for painting. Instead, I began using charcoal, matte medium, and gesso, in alternating layers, which allows for more laying with a quick dry-time. Originally intended as an under-painting, the black and white quality not only reflects my passion for working in monotypes it also is a reflection of this strange new world we are living in, which in many ways does seem black and white. Because this new method of working for me was caused by the pandemic, and knew that other artists have been similarly affected, I decided to spearhead a community exhibition in the Grand Gallery, at Golden Belt, titled ReAwakening: Artistic Process During a Pandemic. It was an open call to artists living in Orange, Durham, and Wake Counties, and 29 Artists are participating. The exhibition runs from July 13 - September 27, 2020.

Please describe the upcoming class you’re currently offering through The ArtsCenter’s online program, Plein Air Painting Looking Out Your Window. Did the crisis inspire any aspects of your lesson plans? What can students expect to learn in this class? 

The workshop I am offering through the ArtsCenter's online program is essentially an extension of the plein air landscape class that I have taught for years, only indoors, looking out the window. This, of course, ensures that I have a good internet connection to zoom, but it also eliminates some of the more difficult aspects of plein air painting (think bugs, intense heat, and a sun that is constantly moving). In this online course, I will discuss all of the technical aspects of plein air painting, including composition, value, color theory, form, and creating a light effect. I will also show some examples from art history of artists who have been inspired to paint the view out of their window or of the window itself!

Are there any pieces of artwork or music, film, books, and/or TV that are helping you cope these days?

Honestly, the television shows that have helped me cope the most during the pandemic are the Power Rangers and Paw Patrol. Without them I'd get very little painting done at all on the days I have my son. Other than that, I like to listen to records and paint in my apartment, where I am blessed with fantastic light and where I will be teaching this workshop on August 8th.

James teaches Plein Air Painting Looking Out Your Window (starting August 8). Register for it and the rest of our ArtSchool Online classes at artscenter.live/ArtSchool.

Art instructors who are interested in exploring the possibility of offering online instruction through The ArtsCenter should contact Jenks Miller, ArtSchool Manager, at [email protected] for Adult classes or Allison Tierney, Youth Programs Manager at [email protected] for Youth classes.

Student Work: The Sun Is Hot Because It’s Hot

The following piece, entitled “’The sun is hot because it’s hot’: public speaking in the era of Zoom,” was written by Amy Sayle, one of the students in Julia Green’s recent online class, Writing Through Crisis: Using Memoir to Navigate Challenging Times. The next section of Writing Through Crisis begins Tuesday, July 28th. For more information and to register for this class, visit this link.

“The sun is hot because it’s hot”: public speaking in the era of Zoom

By Amy Sayle

Revised 6/19/20

It’s 10 a.m. on the dot, my webcam is on, and I am live in front of our Zoom audience, when I open my mouth, look at the screen, and completely forget what I’m supposed to say.

The problem is not that I care what I look like. I’ve never succumbed to the hair-makeup-fashion-etc. expectations for women’s appearances.

The problem is also not a fear of public speaking. I make a living presenting to the public at a planetarium, and I am completely comfortable with large, live, in-person audiences.

This is a change from when I started doing this in 1998. Back then, after every planetarium show, I would obsess about anything I’d said that wasn’t perfect. Maybe I’d garbled an explanation of why Polaris hasn’t always been the North Star, or misunderstood a kid’s question about the planets, or said something snarky about astrology. Once, in front of an audience filled with high school students, I was trying to say “planet Venus” and accidentally transposed the initial letters of those two words.

I’d ruminate over these blunders for hours, convinced that the audience members were doing the same. I imagined the adults laughing about my mangled explanations over dinner with their kids, or while side by side on their pillows. I imagined the jokes about my mistakes that the teens would be telling at parties for years to come.

Finally, it occurred to me that it didn’t really matter. The shows were live, with no recording. My words vanished into the ether as soon as they were spoken. Probably no one remembered much of the specifics of what I said or even who I was. No one was there to see me anyway. I was literally in the dark.

But this spring, the pandemic has meant no more shows inside the planetarium. Now it’s all online live sky tours using planetarium software, followed by Q&A. This means my name and my face are also on the screen. Worst of all, the live sessions are recorded from Zoom and put up on YouTube for anyone to see.

So there I am, at 10 a.m. on a Thursday, about to welcome our audience to one of our “engaging learning opportunities, like this live virtual event!”

. . . or something like that. Who knows what I’m supposed to say? I don’t know anymore, because my mind has gone blank. The reason I’m rattled is that we’re training someone new to handle the back-end work for these live videos, and she’s joined the video only a few minutes before 10, having struggled to find the correct Zoom link. Then she’s struggled to figure out how to screen-share our intro slide, and we’ve just realized she also needs to super quickly learn Zoom’s polling feature.

In the Before Time, inside the planetarium, there was lots of technology to deal with. But I’d long become used to talking to an audience while being responsible for the microphone, lights, music, not to mention the entire universe, all while simultaneously having a group late-seated right in front of me or a toddler melting down in the background.

But dealing with a webcam, computer mic, and the weird sensation of talking from a living room to an invisible audience while seeing my own image in front of me—that all still feels very new. It feels like a major accomplishment merely to hit the correct keys at the correct moment to unmute myself and turn on the webcam. Knowing that our new person is wrestling with even more new technology, technology crucial for making this all work, is totally freaking me out.

At 9:59 a.m., the colleague who is training our new person wisely pulls the plug on the training and seizes back the host control. A hastily typed, cryptic message goes out on the chat to all of us. Something like: “you ready.”

It’s now 10 a.m., our live audience is waiting, we’re supposed to start, and this is not the start signal we’ve used with our other presentations. I’m not sure who’s typed this, whether it’s a question or a statement, or who it’s directed at. This unleashes some frantic back and forth typing, with me finally writing, “starting hope you’re ready.”

I successfully turn on my audio and camera. This apparently uses up all the cognitive power I had left, because then I promptly forget what we’re all here for. I think I forget my own name. I stumble though the introduction, then turn things over to my colleague Nick to introduce himself and our theme for the day: the constellations of the zodiac.

I breathe a sigh of relief as everything goes smoothly for the next 25 minutes. Since Nick has to do a lot of work to manipulate the planetarium software that generates the sky, it’s my job to do most of the talking. The topic is one I’ve spoken about many times, I’m in the groove, and I explain everything reasonably competently. I think I even avoid unnecessary snark about astrology, and I forget about my botched intro.

Whenever Nick takes a quick turn to say something, I check the Q&A to see if anyone’s written any relevant questions.

No, it turns out.

There are only a few questions, and they are relevant only in the sense that they relate in some way to some object in outer space. Otherwise, the questions are wildly off topic: “What’s a white dwarf?” (which the questioner has spelled “dorf”) “How long would it take to get to Neptune?” “Why is the sun hot?” Why is the sun hot? What?

We finish our presentation, and it’s time to handle questions. Since attendees can’t see each other’s questions, I decide to ignore what everyone has typed in, in favor of pretending someone has asked an excellent, on-topic question about the zodiac constellations. I answer my made-up question brilliantly.

It’s now 10:28 or 10:29, and I’m expecting Nick to segue into our outro, about following us on twitter and the like. I’m not even really paying attention anymore. I’m fantasizing about the snack I’m going to have as a reward for surviving this. I wonder if there’s still a chocolate bar left in the pantry. Maybe it’s even the orange dark chocolate.

That’s when Nick does the thing we agreed we would never do. Which is to take a question from the Q&A and pose it to the other person.

I am jolted out of my chocolate reverie by this: “So, Amy. Why is the sun hot?”

You know how our president speaks when he’s not reading from a teleprompter? How he often sounds like he has little grasp of either the concept he’s talking about or of the English language itself?

That is what happens to me. What comes out my mouth is incoherent Trumpian word salad. I haven’t dared to revisit the video, but I’m pretty sure I start by explaining the mass of the Sun by using the phrase “the Sun has a lot of stuff.” And I say words like “nuclear fusion” and “hydrogen” and “helium” and “pressure” and “temperature” and possibly I throw out numbers like “27 million degrees Fahrenheit”—but all in a way that is unmoored from logic or meaning.

In the end, I have answered the simple question, the good-if-not-completely-relevant question of “Why is the sun hot?” with a whole bunch of words that basically translate to: “The Sun is hot because it is hot.”

This is mortifying. I have spewed out nonsense, about a very basic question, live on the internet, and it’s all connected to my name and face. Worst of all, this session is being recorded. It will exist on the internet, for as long as the internet exists, available on YouTube to billions of my fellow humans, who can replay it again and again and laugh at what I said.

To recover from this, I have had to draw upon research I remember reading about once, that yes, people do pay attention to us, but no one is paying attention to us in the way that we think.

Therefore, I comfort myself with the thought that most people won’t even notice how badly I mangled that answer. Instead, they’ll notice other things, possibly like how I wear the same black shirt for every live session. Or how my hair is a one giant humido-meter, perfectly preserving a record of central North Carolina humidity from day to day, by the specific diameter and height of the frizz halo.

And I don’t care about any of that.

Though I am convinced that someone, somewhere, is still getting laughs at parties by recounting that time way back in high school when they went on a field trip to the planetarium and the lady pointed out “vlanet penis.”

Student Work: Virus Diaries

The following piece, entitled Virus Diaries: 1, was written by Mimi Chapman, a student in Julia Green’s recent online class, Writing Through Crisis: Using Memoir to Navigate Challenging Times. This post appears on Mimi's blog, where you can also read Virus Diaries 2: Texas' Two Step Reopening and My Father.

Virus Diaries: 1 

by Mimi Chapman

When this strange chapter in our collective life is said and done, we will each have our own virus diary. We will have the day we realized this episode was serious. The day we realized we had to change the way we were living.  The day we recognized how this could affect people that we know and the day we realized that we would not come through it unscathed. This is my virus story, even though it is not over.

Almost a month ago, my family was approaching spring break. My oldest son had plans to spend a week off with a “lady friend” in her hometown near mine. My husband was to have a week to himself. My younger son and I would head to Texas where he would help out at a friend’s ranch – which he loves – and I would visit with my 99-year-old father. As we prepared to leave, reports on Covid-19 were growing more dire. My husband and I discussed whether any or all of us should travel. In the end, we took Clorox wipes, hand sanitizer, cleaned every surface we encountered on our respective journeys, and off we went.

The visit began normally enough. We saw my father and his friends who all wanted to shake my son’s hand and give me a hug or a pat. I walked in and out of his assisted living facility with nary a second glance from the wonderful staff that I’ve come to admire. Then, as universities across the country sounded the alarm and told students not to return to campus, our visit took a different turn.

Between visits with my father, I was all of sudden on daily conference calls with work. I was trying to get his taxes done and when I went to visit him the visiting procedure had changed to include a sign in process and questions about travel. As spring break was extended for another week to prep for remote teaching, entrance to my dad’s assisted living facility became limited to immediate family. I told my older son and his girlfriend not to make their planned visit since they’d likely been exposed to too many potential carriers. On Friday morning, I visited as usual and left with a plan to come back later that afternoon and finish the Sherlock Holmes story I’d been reading aloud to my father. When I returned two hours later, I was locked out.

Hysteria welled up inside of me. That I could not explain to him what was happening, that he would be left wondering why I didn’t return, that my only chance at talking with him would be the five-minute phone calls that he appreciates, but provide precious little in the way of real communication – my mind could not take it in.  Thank God for the hospice nurse who happened to arrive at just the right moment and advocated that I be allowed to visit for another hour or so, to finish our Sherlock Holmes story, to say what might be a temporary or, God forbid, a permanent good-bye.  I was allowed in, allowed to explain, tell him I love him, and walk out the door.

Two days ago, some public official – I know their name but choose not to mention it here – said that senior citizens would be willing to sacrifice for the country, to risk death so that the economy wouldn’t suffer. And, I suppose if anyone asked him, my 99-year-old father might agree.  Why not? He said yes before when he was 19 years old and marched down 5th avenue before boarding a ship that took him to the Pacific where he was under fire for 2 and half years. What would make any of us think that any of those brave, now old, young men and women would ever say no to what we ask of them?  Has my good, noble, kind father ever said no to me? Hardly ever. But why in the world we would ever ask this of them?  How could we be so selfish, so self-important, so ignorant, and so cruel, as to expect that our elders who have sacrificed in World War 2, in Korea, in Vietnam, and in a million other non-military ways, should have to sacrifice a good, quiet, supported old age and eventual death surrounded by their loved ones because we cannot find it in our hearts to sit in our houses and be bored, or contend with endless zoom meetings in our workplace? If we can afford to have someone clean our homes, keep our yards, help with children, nails, or hair, can’t we, both individually and societally, pay people not to work for a month or six weeks for the good of all? Could we not find an unselfish bone in our bodies that allows us to value our elders, our health care workers, and others who are vulnerable to a virus that, as a society we have no experience with and to which no one, except maybe those who have recovered, has any immunity?

Two weeks have passed since I left my father. It has taken this long for me to even begin to write about leaving him. Locking out visitors was the right decision and my need to be with him was so intense as to make my rational mind fall completely away.  I talk to him every day but have no idea when I’ll be able to read to him again. I keep telling him I’m coming again at the end of April because it gives us both hope that there will be time to read another Sherlock Holmes story, or perhaps Treasure Island, or maybe a Tale of Two Cities. There is no economic gain in such activities, no contribution to America’s business of business. But oh how we love it. The characters, the humor, the turn of phrase, the suspense, the story. When I left him, he said, in a way that you’ll recognize if you know him, “When you come back, we’ll read another tale of danger.” How I hope so. Please stay home so that I and you can have a chance at another chapter with those that are so dear.

The ArtsCenter Stands in Solidarity

The Board of Directors and staff of The ArtsCenter stand in unequivocal solidarity with members of the African American Community. We mourn the loss of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor, and the unconscionable number who came before them, killed because of the system of racial injustice that remains at work in this country. To create change, we need to stand up for what we believe in. Action is necessary. Silence is not acceptable. At The ArtsCenter, our mission is rooted in creating equity through the arts. We pledge that in all aspects of our programs, we are and will continue to do our part to ensure that The ArtsCenter is a place of inclusivity and acceptance for all. We will stand and work together with communities of color to bring about long overdue systemic change. We see you. We hear you. We stand in solidarity with you. Daniel Mayer Executive Director Bernadette Pelissier Board Chair 

Art in a Pandemic: Bridget Pemberton-Smith

As the Coronavirus pandemic reorganizes our lives, many of us are turning to the arts to provide insight, human connection, and healing. The ArtsCenter’s online learning programs allow students of all ages stay creative, learn new skills, and maintain meaningful relationships with others from the comfort of their own home. As part of this online learning program and The ArtSchool’s Creative Healing initiative, we have partnered with The Art Therapy Institute of NC to offer a series of Soul Collage © workshops focused on self-care and reflection during a difficult time.

Bridget Pemberton-Smith is an art therapist and is the Development Director at the Art Therapy Institute. She received her Master’s of Expressive Arts Therapies with a concentration in Art Therapy from Lesley College in 1998, and has experience working with a wide range of populations including children with cancer, refugee and immigrant students, and senior adults living in memory care facilities.

What does your art therapy practice look like in normal conditions? How has Coronavirus impacted this practice?

In normal conditions, the art therapists who work at the Art Therapy Institute travel to meet our clients where they are at...so we travel to schools, clinics, nursing homes, etc. We are used to having our cars full of art supplies and being on the road. With the Coronavirus, we now find ourselves doing all of our work virtually via Zoom, FaceTime, Google, etc. We've learned to adapt to doing art online by using art apps and sending art supplies to our clients at home. Like everyone else, we did a big pivot! While the process hasn't been completely smooth, we have had a lot of successes and have discovered a new way to offer art therapy which we will most likely integrate into our offerings even when life returns to normal.

Are there any lessons from your experience at the Art Therapy Institute -- or in the field of art therapy in general -- that might help folks navigate the challenges posed by this crisis?

One phrase that art therapists use a lot is "Trust the process." There is a lot of wisdom to be discovered through the process of art making. At some point, all artists feel stuck or frustrated by the way a piece of art is evolving. The trick is to push through and "trust the process!” We learn about ourselves and how we face adversity by pushing through these hard times. I had an art professor at Guilford College who would say, "an art piece has to get really ugly before it gets beautiful." Life is like that, too. We all have to go through hard times but by persevering, we grow and learn and life unfolds in the most beautiful ways. We are all learning lessons during this time and I expect when this is all over, we will all have found some beauty in it all.

Please describe the Soul Collage © workshops you’re offering through The ArtsCenter’s online ArtSchool program. What can participants expect to do and learn in these workshops?

The workshops are designed to give people an opportunity to learn a little bit about Soul Collage and to experience making Soul Collage cards themselves. I've decided to focus on giving people time and guidance around making cards as opposed to "teaching" for most the workshop about Soul Collage. For each workshop, participants can expect to learn a little about Soul Collage and then spend a chunk of time actually making cards. At the end of each workshop, we'll take time to share what we've created and witness the magic that happens when we find out what our cards are telling us about ourselves.

Do participants need to take the entire series of Soul Collage © workshops, or can they pick and choose from among them? If a student misses the first workshop, can they sign up for the subsequent workshops?

Participants do not need to take all the workshops. Each workshop stands on its own. For the last workshop on Soul Collage Readings, however, it is helpful to have had the opportunity to make several cards to work with in the readings. Having several cards to use in readings can help the readings feel richer in content.

Are there any pieces of artwork or music, film, books, and/or TV that are helping you cope?

I've had fun reconnecting with my CD collection...lots of great music from the 80's and 90's! My husband has introduced me to Brian Eno whose music is soothing when working on my laptop for hours on end. As for art, I've loved seeing on social media all the famous works of art being recreated at home with stuff found around the house. People are wildly creative and infinitely humorous!

Bridget Pemberton-Smith leads a series of online Soul Collage © workshops throughout June and July. The first of these workshops takes place on June 6th. View them and the rest of our ArtSchool Online classes at artscenter.live/ArtSchool.

Art instructors who are interested in exploring the possibility of offering online instruction through The ArtsCenter should contact Jenks Miller, ArtSchool Manager, at [email protected] for Adult classes or Allison Tierney, Youth Programs Manager at [email protected] for Youth classes.

Student Work: Masks in Crisis

The following piece, entitled "Masks in Crisis," was written by Valerie Paterson, one of the students in Julia Green’s recent online class, Writing Through Crisis: Using Memoir to Navigate Challenging Times.

Content warning: the below text references sexual violence.

Masks in Crisis

by Valerie Paterson

Valerie Paterson's quilt, "Hell and Hope," is being displayed as part of the A Better World traveling fiber art exhibition.

Mid-April I began a “Writing in Crisis” class as I was, ironically, living my perfect life—quilting and sewing to my heart’s content thanks to “Shelter at Home.” Making a coronavirus quilt tapped my creativity and helped me process the scope of the death and sickness in the world. Making masks—hundreds of them—became my therapy in a similar way to how quilting got me through difficult times. Together they were working for me, bringing me to a peaceful place.

Last year my quilt “Hell and Hope” transformed the pieces of my soul scorched by being raped. The hand ignoring the serrated knife and defying the flames of Hell reaches toward the butterflies and dove of hope. This quilt was months in the making and profoundly cathartic. It is traveling the country although currently held hostage at the New England Quilt Museum in Massachusetts, the state where my rapist is imprisoned.

On May 1 the phone call came disturbing my peace. The parole hearing is now scheduled for June 18. It was supposed to be March 17, but the coronavirus caused it to be postponed. And what a relief that was—no flying to Massachusetts as the pandemic was unfolding. But the reality of real-life returns. No more hiding behind my masks. Should I travel to attend the parole hearing in this time of COVID-19?

I have wanted to attend this hearing for years. You see, I was raped in 1981, and my assailant has been in prison all this time. The question at hand is “Should he still be there? For the rest of his life?” I have an opinion and the time is near to express it.

My perfect life is merely an illusion that I choose to enjoy for moments as I realize the world that existed before the coronavirus still exists. Sheltered at home I can quilt and make masks and hide behind them…but only for so long.

Art in a Pandemic: Susie Wilde

Susie Wilde has reviewed children’s books for thirty years. Her published works include a picture book, Extraordinary Chester, and a book for teachers, Write-A-Thon! How to Conduct a Writing Marathon.

Most recently, she’s co-written a book about writing children’s books, Passage & Its Making. Wilde is a teaching artist who has spent the last fifteen years encouraging children and adults to think and write like writers. To learn more about Wilde, visit her website: ignitingwriting.com.

What does your writing and teaching practice look like in normal conditions? How has Coronavirus impacted this practice?

I am so used to creating a caring community in my home. My architect-husband designed a welcoming space, I love to bake yummy treats and The ArtsCenter sends me amazing students. It’s a dynamic combination for success and I was worried about how that would translate virtually. I’ve been amazed at the bonding my large group has done and the way they are supporting each other’s work. Part of this may be that I’m working with an extraordinary group, but I feel like in some way they have created a strong virtual community.

One of your areas of expertise is in children's books. How might children's books and stories handle large-scale crises like the Coronavirus pandemic?

The pandemic has created time that has restored my earlier passion for reading. I have found calmness and escape in the books I’m reading. Young adult novels are fabulous for adults—you can lose yourself easily in the remarkable worlds these authors build. Children are the toughest audience in the world—they won’t put up with long-winded descriptions or taking forever to get into a story. That produces a powerful, incredibly readable literature.

I have been reading daily to my grandchildren—picture books for my 6 year-old grandson and novels to the eight-year-old. It has provided almost daily connections, something we’ve never had before. It gives me such joy to share with them the books I love.

Anxiety is huge for children and there are a bunch of books that parents can use to talk about anxiety. Here’s a link I wrote a couple years ago with some excellent young books on anxiety.

There have been some great responses by the children’s book community—everything from Michelle Obama’s read-alouds to Mo Willem’s drawing lessons. Here’s a good link for some ideas.

Please describe the "Imagine a Children's Book" class you’re offering through The ArtsCenter’s online program. What can students expect to learn in your class?

I am just finishing a class and would love to offer it again because it works beautifully online (much to my surprise). We begin by imagining a character and by really living with that character (I prescribe a bit of schizophrenia) and the groups’ helpful questions, these characters are taking on their own vivid lives. I also rely on the wisdom of the excellent books published by children’s book writers…and my “Wilde writers” learn to read like writers, examining books for what they can apply to their own work. This week we’re having our Everybody Reads class, which is my favorite! Hearing my writers’ symphony of stories is magical! Do I not have the best job in the world? People read me stories and I get paid to listen to their splendor.

Are there any pieces of artwork or music, film, books, and/or TV that are helping you cope with this crisis?

I have a stack of books by my bed and am plunging in and losing myself in a variety of wonderful words and compelling stories. I’m also listening to audios. Curiously, they really help me focus when I feel a bit lost. Right now, I’m cleaning out cabinets and closets and audios are a great comfort. At night my husband and I are indulging in Netflix series.

Are there any lessons we can learn from this crisis?

I am seeing the gift of time. Time to reflect, time to create, time to renew. I have had a hard time calling people, even those I love. It’s a measure of the overwhelm that I think we’re all feeling. I have always worked from home and definitely have my introvert side that’s very happy.

Susie teaches several ArtSchool Online classes, including Creating an Imaginative Narrative: A Family Writing Adventure (starting May 12th); Parent-Child Journal (starting May 13th); and Imagine a Children’s Book, Part 2 (starting May 20). View them and the rest of our ArtSchool Online classes at artscenter.live/ArtSchool.

Art instructors who are interested in exploring the possibility of offering online instruction through The ArtsCenter should contact Jenks Miller, ArtSchool Manager, at [email protected] for Adult classes or Allison Tierney, Youth Programs Manager at [email protected] for Youth classes.

Art in a Pandemic: Lauren DeSerres

The ArtsCenter’s new interview series “Art in a Pandemic” explores the ways that artists in our community are using the arts to stay engaged and connected in a time of crisis. Interview by Jenks Miller.

Lauren deSerres creates narrative imagery inspired by her home state of North Carolina. She uses bright, saturated color and patterns made with acrylic paint, watercolor, pastel, collage, and ink to capture vignettes from visual stories inspired by fables and folktales. Much of her imagery is devoted to themes such as conservation and community. Lauren enjoys making people smile with her work, but also wants to show the importance of appreciating and conserving our natural world. 

What does your art practice look like in normal conditions? How has Coronavirus impacted this practice? 

I usually spend each day in my studio working on my mixed media paintings. I teach private lessons, work with The ArtsCenter teaching youth classes and I travel for art fairs and exhibitions during most of the year. This year I would have traveled to about 12 shows nationwide selling and demonstrating my art. Because of COVID-19, almost all of my shows are canceled or will be canceled this year. Nevertheless, I’m still working in my studio almost every day, I’ve been selling my work online and I’ve been creating more work for an upcoming solo exhibition in October at the Halle Art Center in Apex. See my work on my website: www.LaurendeSerres.com/gallery

I’ve also moved my teaching practice online. I’m teaching private lessons, lessons through The ArtsCenter, and lessons on other online platforms. You can see my upcoming classes on my website: https://www.laurendeserres.com/upcoming-classes

Please describe the class you’re offering through The ArtsCenter’s online program. Did the crisis inspire any aspects of your lesson plan? What can students expect to learn in your class?

One of the things I liked to do best when I was a kid was to sketch in my sketchbook. I think kids are in need of some enrichment during this time at home, and so I’ve created an introductory sketching course. My class is called “Drawing Techniques” (Grade 3-6), and it runs May 4-26 from 3-3:45 pm on Mondays and Tuesdays. In this 4-week class, students will build basic drawing skills by exploring various artists, drawing tools, and techniques. We will address art techniques such as line, shape, pattern, space, proportion, mark-making, and perspective. I will demonstrate these techniques in each session and students will be able to create their own works of art using the skills they learn. In this class, students are encouraged to give each other and themselves feedback on their work in order to grow and improve. 

In week 1, we’ll be working on making interesting lines and using them to create contour drawings inspired by Pablo Picasso. In week 2, we will work with value and using contour lines to create depth and value to give our drawings dimension looking at the work of Albrecht Durer. In week 3, we’ll work on drawing in one-point perspective through the art of Vincent Van Gogh and Filippo Brunelleschi. Lastly, in week 4, students will work with human and facial proportions, examining the art of Frida Kahlo and Leonardo Da Vinci.

What media have you engaged with in this era of social distancing? 

I have used Zoom and Skype to teach my private classes online. I’ve also created “studio visit” videos on Facebook and Instagram. I’m developing new classes on Outschool and at The ArtsCenter and they booth use Zoom as a teaching tool. Both of these classes are live and interactive, and I’m looking forward to starting them in late April and May. My online classes are reaching a much wider audience than before, so I will continue to teach online in addition to in-person classes in the future. 

Are there any pieces of artwork or music, film, books, and/or TV that are helping you cope with this crisis?

I’m doing a daily yoga session with my friend Hannah Levin from Heartfelt Wellbeing on Facebook live. She reads excerpts from poems each day and those really get me through a lot of morning dread about the future. 

One of the poems that spoke to me most was by Mary Oliver. For me, it was about waiting and renewal:

Sleeping in the Forest by Mary Oliver 

I thought the earth remembered me,

She took me back so tenderly

Arranging her skirts

Her pockets full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before

A stone on the riverbed,

Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars,

But my thoughts.

And they floated light as moths

Among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

Breathing around me.

The insects and the birds

Who do their work in darkness.

All night I rose and fell,

As if water, grappling with luminous doom.

By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times

Into something better.

I also read a lot of fiction, and I’ve just finished Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik. Excellent and imaginative story about female protagonists. I’m also reading Herbal Rituals by Judith Berger. It’s a deep dive in nature and herbal remedies.

Are there any lessons we can learn from this crisis? 

COVID-19 has had a devastating effect on human life, and a striking impact on our environment. It’s brought to light the things we’ve taken for granted like being with loved ones, going to work each day, traveling, or simply leaving home. Although it’s brought many losses to light, I think that nature is doing what it can to get our attention. It’s asking us to reflect on how we can tread more lightly on the planet, and in most cases, it’s forcing us to do so. Though much pain and suffering has and will take place, the planet is quickly healing itself as the hustle and bustle of daily life comes to a grinding halt. 

COVID-19 has also brought to light the disparity between socioeconomic classes and the inequality that still plagues our social, political, and economic systems. It has highlighted the importance of our workers, from janitors to grocery store employees, to healthcare workers. This virus is telling us that we are all in this together–not just America, not just one country or the other, but the whole world. Our actions really do affect everyone. The actions of a few people have an enormous impact on the whole. This virus is asking us to be selfless, to be patient, and to wake up and look around and most importantly, to listen. It’s telling us that what we do and what we say matters, not just personally or locally, but globally.

Lauren is based at Proud Chicken Studio, located in Pittsboro, North Carolina. She holds an MFA from the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth and a BFA from East Carolina University with a focus in sculpture. Lauren has been painting since she was 15 and has been an art educator for over 10 years, working with children in public schools, school enrichment programs, community arts centers, and other art venues. She enjoys working with children and seeks to recreate the perspective that young people bring to everyday situations. 

Lauren teaches the new online youth class Drawing Techniques, which starts Monday, May 4th. View it and the rest of our first round of youth classes at artscenter.live/YouthClasses.

Art instructors who are interested in exploring the possibility of offering online instruction through The ArtsCenter should contact Jenks Miller, ArtSchool Manager, at [email protected] for Adult classes or Allison Tierney, Youth Programs Manager at [email protected].

Art in a Pandemic: Jennifer Austin

The ArtsCenter’s new interview series "Art in a Pandemic" explores the ways that artists in our community are using the arts to stay engaged and connected in a time of crisis. Interview by Jenks Miller.

As the COVID-19 pandemic reorganizes our lives, many of us are turning to the arts to provide insight, human connection, and healing. The ArtsCenter's new online learning programs allow students of all ages stay creative, learn new skills, and maintain meaningful relationships with others from the comfort of their own homes. We will be profiling the artists, writers, and educators offering online ArtSchool instruction at The ArtsCenter to get a sense of how their creative practices have been impacted by the crisis, and what they are doing to cope. Please join us!

Jennifer Austin has taught stained glass through The ArtsCenter since 2001. Under normal circumstances, she holds classes in person at her private studio in Mebane, “The Kaleidoscope,” online at kaleidoscopestainedglass.com. 

What does your art practice look like in normal conditions? How has Coronavirus impacted this practice?  

One of my favorite things about what I do is sharing creative discovery with others. On open studio days, students are working in different art glass techniques simultaneously: traditional stained glass, glass on glass mosaics, leaded glass, etc.… The positive energy it generates in my studio is one of my greatest joys.  I am very much an introvert unless I’m in my studio surrounded by creatively minded people. The steady stream of problem solving, inspiration, and laughter helps to sustain me in many ways. The current state of the world, with everyone attempting to find ways to communicate, and find creative resources, feels very disjointed. I miss my students very much, however, I am trying to use this as an opportunity to learn about different ways to connect and share creative information with others.    

What media have you engaged with in this era of social distancing?  

I have used Zoom to schedule online meetings with my regular students to hopefully continue the support we are used to in the studio. We have all become very good friends and we miss our conversations about not only art, but many aspects of our personal lives as well. I have, in the distant past, had a few online students. However, at that time it was not something I chose to continue because that was before the age of livestreaming. All interaction was through text conversations and video clips. Hopefully, through livestreaming platforms, like Zoom, online creative classes can be a much more positive and interactive experience.

Are there any lessons we can learn from this crisis?  

Yes, I hope that we emerge from this crisis with a new found respect for the privilege of human connection, and reverence for the environment, which is flourishing in the absence of our often careless and destructive presence on the planet. Last, but not least, a resolve to place our scientists and medical professionals in a place of power and influence over policy and governance.  

Please describe the class you’re offering through The ArtsCenter’s online program. Did the crisis inspire any aspects of your lesson plan? What can students expect to learn in your class?  

My first online class offering is Stained Glass Mini Mosaics: Pendants. In this class, students will learn about art glass types, basic glass cutting, and nipping shapes for mosaics. We will talk about design choices and planning, and laying out a design. I will demonstrate how to reverse grout mosaic pieces into the pendant tray, and then finish it off with a clear jewelry resin. We will cover two different projects: one with stained glass, and one with millefiori glass. These projects are small and manageable. I felt that it was important to begin with a class that would offer design freedom, brilliant color, and simplicity. When learning a new technique in what is perhaps an unfamiliar medium, it is always best to start simple. Even more so during this current crisis, I feel that students who are turning to online learning are likely hoping to detach from the stress of our daily lives. Navigating in an online learning environment can be a challenge unto itself and the subject matter should be presented in a way that does not overwhelm.

Jennifer Austin’s new ArtSchool Online class “Mini Mosaics: Pendant Workshop” is a two-day workshop being offered four times in April and May. Sign up for it and the rest of our ArtSchool Online classes at artscenter.live/ArtSchool.

Art instructors who are interested in exploring the possibility of offering online instruction through The ArtsCenter should contact Jenks Miller, ArtSchool Manager, at [email protected].

Jayme Stone’s Folklife

Interview: Jayme Stone Posted by Jenks Miller In 2015, banjoist and composer Jayme Stone released Jayme Stone's Lomax Project, a record featuring a selection of songs from Alan Lomax's vast catalog of field recordings, re-imagined and recorded for a modern audience by Stone and a hand-picked ensemble of roots musicians. The success of the Lomax Project, which Folk Roots called "an essential album," inspired Stone to continue his investigation of archival folk music traditions from around the world. The updated project, dubbed "Jayme Stone's Folklife," explores Sea Island spirituals, Creole calypsos, and Appalachian dance tunes. We spoke with Stone in anticipation of the Jayme Stone's Folklife performance at The ArtsCenter in Carrboro on Friday, April 27th. Tickets for the performance are available here.

photo courtesy Jayme Stone

Jayme Stone's Folklife is a touring ensemble show that grew out of your 2015 album, Jayme Stone's Lomax Project. The updated name suggests that you've expanded the project's repertoire beyond the scope of the heralded Alan Lomax collection to include songs from the larger folk tradition. Is that a fair characterization?  Yes, certainly that is a fair characterization. The project began focusing specifically on songs that Alan Lomax and his father, John, had collected. Over the years of doing the project, it evolved and expanded, and we started to include the work of other folklorists and open the aperture a little bit wider. More than anything, we focused more on the songs and the singers and traditions themselves, rather than the collectors so much.   Will Folklife be an ongoing project, or is your work under that name specific to this tour?  Folklife has been an ongoing project. The Lomax Project started almost five years ago. Historically I've made a new record every two years – that's a vastly different concept in lineup and repertoire – I've done that, then I've done a one-eighty and made something completely new. But this project has lasted because it's so deep – these archives are so vast, and I will never get to listen to all the songs as long as I live! It's a very deep well.  And we are continuing, still. I'm beginning to work on a new project that is a big departure from anything that I've done, but the Folklife project will continue. The band is like a family now and we love to play together, unearth old songs and dust them off. The lineup for your April 27th show at The ArtsCenter includes Moira Smiley, Sumaia Jackson & Joe Phillips, each an accomplished musician in their own rite. Your Lomax and Folklife projects feature collaborators from a diverse array of musical backgrounds. How did you choose the lineup for each of these projects? I have met all the musicians that I've worked with in an organic way. There's a loose-knit community of musicians who are interested in this old music. I keep my ear to the ground, and I'm always checking out new people and seeing who's on the scene. These were all musicians that I was really moved by – both their musicianship, and they're all wonderful human beings, which is a major criteria. Even though folks have to be interested in these old folk songs, the music draws influence form jazz improvisation and a certain connectivity that happens in chamber music playing as well as all kinds of other references coming in. I like to work with people that have a foot in the tradition and are willing to step outside and have varied interests. Do you perform the same selections at each show? What can your ArtsCenter audience expect from your performance?  We tend to have a setlist for a tour or a season. It will slowly evolve and morph: certain songs might fall away for a spell and new ones are always being folded in. At this point we are playing most of the songs from the new Folklife record, a few that we are forever in love with from the Lomax Project record, and then there are a couple of new things that have never been recorded. And we're still a month away so who knows what might evolve before then! But the last two records definitely will give people a clear idea of what to expect.  

You've said that you hope your work with folk archives turns people on to the world of field recordings. What is it about field recordings that appeals to you, as a folklorist, musician, and/or a listener? Although I'm someone with a modern sensibility in how I make music, I'm always interested in going back and learning from our elders and exploring the more arcane corners of the roots music tradition. So I try and find songs that are more undiscovered. And we like the concert to also feel educational, where people get introduced to traditions – you know, maybe they haven't heard music from the South Carolina Sea Islands, or maybe they didn't realize the banjo came from West Africa and you can hear all those influences in both Appalachian repertoire and things in the Carribean which have strong relations to the African American tradition here. So we definitely try and turn people on to the wide scope of this music.   Ever since I was a kid I always loved avidly reading liner notes, and if somebody would mention an influence or where they learned a song, I would look that artist up and in turn find out who they learned from. That's how I found field recordings in the first place. They're a great touchstone, as well as just being beautiful, raw, often very emotional, and unpolished in the most beautifully organic way. You made your own field recordings when you traveled to Mali in 2008 to study the banjo's African roots. I've read that you wanted to capture the sound of instruments like the n'goni for your own learning process. How does a folklorist determine how to use field recordings, and whether or not to release them commercially?  I did spend three months in Mali, West Africa in 2008. I didn't make field recordings for any kind of public use – they were very much personal. I wasn't super concerned with the quality, I just did the best that I could. Mostly I was making recordings because there weren't very many that were available of people playing n'goni and other ancestors of the banjo. Much like the banjo in bluegrass music, the n'goni in West African music is part of the fabric of a band. It can easily get buried, so there wasn't much solo n'goni music where you can hear what was going on. I was looking for recordings that I could bring back and study -- whether it was a balafone player or a kora player or a singer, I wanted to be able to stop and just listen to what one person was doing and get some of the nuance and detail and polyrhythm. I never even thought to release them commercially, nor do I think I ever will! But I still go back from time to time and learn songs that I never got to learn in the last ten years.  Are there guidelines for how a musician featured in a commercially released field recording would be credited and compensated? Does that factor into the decision a folklorist makes about how he or she might use a recording?  You know, I've never gone about doing that. I have friends that have worked on, edited, or curated collections for Smithsonian Folkways who have a lot more experience. I typically think these things are negotiated one-on-one with individual artists. In some cases, artists are not paid and in other cases they make special arrangements. And of course, what was done in 1933 will be vastly different than what's done now.   There are all kinds of complex legal issues with these old songs -- it is a very, very complicated and philosophically complex issue. How the law works is based on precedent. So, somebody with enough gumption who's lawyered up can go ahead and say, "Well, I wrote such and such traditional song," and until they get challenged in court, they have the ability to say that whether it's true or not. Oftentimes the origins of these songs are obscure, or there are many cases of songs where an artist has claimed publishing on them and yet in the recording itself they talk about where they learned them from! Or people just change the title or rewrite the lyrics to a melody or rewrite the melody to lyrics.   The Lomax Project benefited from the relatively recent digitization of Alan Lomax's field recordings. (All seventeen-thousand-odd original field recordings are now available online at the Cultural Equity organization.) Can you talk about the impact that digitization and internet distribution have had on your work as a folklorist?  The work that I've done has been enormously helped by the fact that so much of the Lomax archive and the work of many other folklorists has been digitized. Even with Smithsonian Folkways, you're able to stream or purchase most of their catalog now, digitally. And for free, they provide full liner notes on their website, which is a little-known fact that is an incredible benefit for people like me. It's really an amazing resource. It's not without its issues – it's very different to scroll through a list of songs and click on them, listening through your computer speakers. It can have such a different experience to it than sitting at the foot of an elder musician or learning a song from somebody with whom you can spend time in their community or their home. And yet it's such a good resource: the ability to access this vast, vast trove of songs. Yeah, I have relied on it heavily.   Also, wanting to have more of a first-hand experience, I have spent a bunch of time at the Library of Congress and the American Folklife Center, looking through card catalogs and wandering through the archives themselves down in the basement, pulling things off shelves and having a more tactile, curious relationship with the material. Also, I've had things digitized, or I've listened to things in their original format, and learned songs that have not been digitized. So all kinds of different processes are at work here, but yes, the internet is greatly beneficial to this process. 

Jayme Stone's Folklife performs at The ArtsCenter on Friday, April 27th Doors: 7pm Show: 8pm Venue: Earl & Rhoda Wynn Theater Tickets are available here The ArtsCenter Jayme Stone’s Folklife

Dirty Dozen Brass Band: New Year’s Eve at The ArtsCenter

Interview: Roger Lewis Posted by Jenks Miller The Dirty Dozen Brass Band is an American cultural institution, widely credited as the group that both revived the traditional New Orleans jazz style and expanded its sound palette with influences from bebop, funk, and Miles Davis’ pioneering fusion era. Founded in 1977, the Dirty Dozen extended their reach throughout the 80’s, 90’s, and 2000′s, collaborating with artists as diverse as Dizzy Gillespie, Norah Jones, and Modest Mouse. This year, as they celebrate their 40th year of barnstorming live performances, the Dirty Dozen will dish out a helping of their famous “big old musical gumbo” at a special New Year’s Eve show here at The ArtsCenter in Carrboro. To prepare, we talked with founding member Roger Lewis about the history of the band, their connection to New Orleans’ Social and Pleasure Clubs, and the enduring politics of Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. Purchase tickets for the Dirty Dozen Brass Band’s New Year’s Eve show here. Interview continues after the break.

photo courtesy of Dirty Dozen Brass Band

The ArtsCenter: The band's name references the Dirty Dozen Social and Pleasure Club, a Tremé neighborhood benevolent society which, like other New Orleans social aid and pleasure clubs at the time, helped its members with health care and funeral expenses. I like the idea of a band growing out of that sort of community organization. Does the band still have a connection to today's social aid and pleasure clubs? If so, what are those organizations like now?

Roger Lewis: The band isn’t really associated with the club anymore, that was just where it all started with Benny Jones and myself. The Social and Pleasure Clubs were originally called Benevolent Society groups, like you said provided aid for health care and funeral expenses. They merged into Social and Pleasure Clubs over the years. They now mostly work in community service and putting on parades for different causes. Some of the big ones are the Black Men of Labor and the Money Wasters who put on lots of second lines and parades for the community. 

  TAC: Gregory Davis has said that a lack of gigs in the early days of the band is what gave the Dirty Dozen the freedom to experiment with different styles. In those days, did the band have an end goal in mind for its experimentation – that is, were you consciously trying to develop a new sound, to move the music in a new direction? And did it become harder to experiment after the band hit and you had regular gigs, along with expectations from labels and audiences?

RL: No, we just played what we liked. We liked to mix in stuff like Charlie Parker, Jimmy Forrest, Dizzy and even Michael Jackson and bring it to the streets. Add that second line groove to it. I remember I brought in Caravan to play, just because I liked it. Some traditional jazz players looked down on us, but liked to bring in avant garde, funk and bebop. We weren’t thinking about changing history, we just wanted to satisfy the need to play more styles. We really still do the same thing and its brought other artists to us, that want to play with us from a wide range of genres over the years.

  TAC: The band hit in Europe first. What was your experience of the European jazz scene at the time? Was there more support for jazz in Europe than in America in the early- to mid-1980's?

RL: Our experience was playing a lot over there, but we were playing a lot in the U.S. And over there. We played with Buddy Rich, the Texas Tenors, Cab Calloway, Count Basie Band, Miles Davis. They love jazz in Europe, in fact one time opening up for Buddy Rich we had to play 6 encores! But we still kept a lot of gigs going on in the U.S., we’d play for a month at a time in NYC then head to Europe, all while playing all the parades, conventions and riverboat gigs in New Orleans. So the support was really there from both places.

  TAC: In the late 1990's, the Dirty Dozen signed to Mammoth Records, a label that was located right here in Carrboro. How did that connection come about?

RL: Our earlier manager hooked us up with them for a couple of albums, Buck Jump and Ears To The Wall but I don’t remember much else about how that came about.  

 TAC: In 2006, the Dirty Dozen released an interpretation of Marvin Gaye's classic, What's Going On, partly as a reaction to the devastation caused by – and the federal government's response to – Hurricane Katrina. But you [Roger Lewis] said that the record was "geared toward what's going on in the world today, not necessarily New Orleans. It's bigger than New Orleans. Much bigger." The sense of unrest captured on that record feels like it's still a part of our social fabric. If you were to interpret What's Going On in 2017, what would you be talking about?

RL: It’s the exact same thing that’s going on now that was going on then. Exactly what Marvin was talking about on that record is happening now, it’s the same political stuff, they just put a different coat and tie on it.

  TAC: Your show here at The ArtsCenter is on New Year's Eve! Do you have any special plans for that show? What can audiences expect from the Dirty Dozen Brass Band on New Year's Eve?

RL: We’ve got something for your mind, your body and your soul! We’re going to make it do what it do. I always say you better bring your tennis shoes because you’ll get a workout at one of our shows. We always play a special NYE show and each year brings a little something different to the table. We’re looking forward to celebrating the night in Carrboro! Dirty Dozen Brass Band plays an NPR Tiny Desk Concert:

Purchase tickets for the Dirty Dozen Brass Band’s New Year’s Eve show here. artscenterlive.org dirtydozenbrass.com

John McEuen & Friends present: “Will The Circle Be Unbroken”

Interview: John McEuen Posted by Jenks Miller

We spoke with John McEuen about his time with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band -- and about his plans for his first tour after leaving the seminal folk-rock group -- in advance of his show at The ArtsCenter in Carrboro on November 10th. Get tickets for John McEuen & Friends present Will the Circle Be Unbroken here. Interview continues below. Audio from this interview is streaming at the bottom of this post.

The ArtsCenter: Your tour this fall is a celebration of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s classic record, Will the Circle Be Unbroken. Each show features stories and songs from the record. Storytelling has always been an important aspect of the folk tradition, and at this point Circle has its own mythology. What kind of stories should audiences anticipate at these shows? Are they stories about the recording sessions? Stories about the songs themselves?

 John McEuen: For years, with the Dirt Band, I’ve been very frustrated by not having enough music reflecting the Will the Circle Be Unbroken album. In fact, the band only did one song from the album. And that is such an important record for my life and for many people’s lives that it just needs to be covered more. When I started doing that at my own shows, I found out there’s a real hunger for knowing about how it all came about. And I have all these photographs from the session, and stories behind it.

 It’s always different every night, but what usually happens is I have the video running behind me and I might be talking about part of the album recording and I say to the audience, “Instead of trying to tell you what Maybelle Carter was like, let’s just go to the session.” And that’s when her voice will come up on the screen and say, “Well in the old days I used to play it like this.” Then Doc Watson says, “Do you remember the ending you put on that old song?” And she says, “Well I started it like this…” That’s when we start “Keep on the Sunny Side,” live on stage with the pictures going behind us.

 And we go through the whole process of recording the album, with some sound bytes from the studio, from Roy Acuff and Doc and Merle [Travis] and Maybelle. But preceding that is also the story of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, a group of young hippies in Southern California that had a dream of getting on the radio, and did against all odds. Our first review in Billboard Magazine, before we had a record company, was: “Very entertaining, but doubtful if they’ll ever be captured on record.”

 TAC: Well, you proved them wrong.

 JM: That review is in a frame with the first platinum album. [In this show] I try to take people through this strange path I’ve been on, the dream of an Orange County teenager. The first part of the dream was just to get out of Orange County — that’s Orange County, California. I’d spent several years working in Disneyland, then music came along and took over the pursuit, my passion.

 TAC: So the music was kind of a ticket out of where you grew up.

 JM: It became one, for sure. The pathway out. After I saw a group called The Dillards, I was driven to play the banjo. I went home and took the fifth string off my guitar and put a HO [scale] railroad spike at the fifth fret so I could tune it like a banjo. From that point on, I wanted to be on stage and travel the world as a troubadour, mainly in the folk tradition.

 The first guy that I had a band with was Les Thompson. We had a group called the Wilmore City Moonshiners in 1965. That lasted about nine months. We probably did twelve jobs, then went our separate ways. Then he called me up the next year and said, “We’re putting together a new band — it’s called the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.” And in about the second month of the band coming together, I jumped in. I taught ‘em a song I’d written with my brother, ‘cause I’d wanted to play a banjo contest with more behind me than just me. And they did a good job! So I said, “OK, I’ll go with this group, ‘cause that might get me on the radio.” Nine months later we had our first single out, “Buy for Me the Rain,” with banjo on it.

 TAC: Now, was that an actual banjo or were you still playing a modified guitar?

 JM: No, that was an actual banjo. I put a mute on it so it would sound like a harpsichord! We made four albums, then Jeff [Hanna] broke the group up after we did Paint Your Wagon, the movie. We spent four months on the set and when we got back a couple months later, we were tired. We split for six months. I went and worked on other things, including an album with [Eagles founding member] Bernie Leadon, mainly bluegrass. We worked for about four months on music, but he got a call to be part of Dillard and Clark. Then I ran into Jeff at a club and said, “We ought to get the band back together,” which we did. All this story comes out on stage, with the photos behind us from the era. It kind of takes people on the path, as if they were there like a fly on the wall. And Les Thompson is part of the group that I have. He’s on stage with me fifty years later.

 One of the guys in the group is John Cable. He was in the band in the 1970’s and went to Russia with us. We became the first American band to go to Russia.

 TAC: I’ve read about that. How did that come about? How did they decide it would be you guys that went over?

 JM: The Russians had to go look at a bunch of American groups and decide which one they would approve. It was in the agreement between the State Departments that America would bring over whatever they wanted, but they had to commit to bringing over a band — not a lead guy, a star with a bunch of musicians, but an actual, democratic band. They went and looked at a bunch of groups and they ended up picking us. We did twenty-eight sold-out shows.

 I took an 8MM sound camera with me, in 1977, and when I have enough time — which I will, for this show — I go through the Russia trip a bit. John Cable’s up there in the pictures, but now it’s thirty years later. He has more hair than Les, though. Les has less hair. [laughs]

 TAC: Besides Les, who else are you going to have on stage with you for this show?

 JM: On stage with me also will be a guy I’ve been playing music with the last twenty-five years: Matt Cartsonis. He plays mandola, guitar … but I don’t let him sing till the middle of the show ‘cause he’s so hard to follow. [laughs]  Matt just rocks out. It’s all acoustic, no drums: stand-up bass, mandolin, guitar, fiddle, banjo, mandola. We cover music from the early Dirt Band, music from my String Wizards album, and the new album, Made in Brooklyn. Matt’s an integral part of the Made in Brooklyn album.

 TAC: On your latest album, Made in Brooklyn, you play the title track from an earlier album, Acoustic Traveller.

 JM: It’s a song from Acoustic Traveller with a different arrangement. Made in Brooklyn features people I’ve been wanting to record with for many years, like David Bromberg, Jay Ungar, John Cowan. Matt’s singing the song John Cowan did, and he’s killing it. It’s exciting every night. After we do some Dirt Band songs, and the Circle story, we get into that music — more bluegrass than the Dirt Band does.

 What’s important about this trip — well, I think every show is important — but this particular trip is the first time I’m actually going out as an ex-member of the Dirt Band. I just departed at the end of October. After fifty-one years, I just need to do what I want to do. It’s awful hard to be in a band and say, “Hey guys, I’ve got twelve songs I want to put on the next album,” you know? It’s awful hard to be in a band and say, “I want to do these fifteen songs on stage tonight.” But my players — Les and Matt and John Cable — we like to play everything. They like to play everything. They like to follow my suggestions, and they have so many good ones of their own. Everybody listens to each other.

 TAC: You have more creative freedom under your own name, I imagine.

 JM: Totally. With the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, it had come down to where I wasn’t fingerpicking guitar anymore. I wasn’t playing enough bluegrass music or enough Carter Family songs, or our new music. The band basically played the same set for the last 11 years: “OK, the show started at 8. What time is it now? Oh, ‘Bojangles’ is starting, so it must be it’s 8:52!” [laughs] At this show, we’ll play at least one or two songs that we’ve never played before together. Somebody might yell out a request, and I’ll say, “John, do you know that one? Matt, do you know it? I know it, follow me.” Or, “You know it, I’ll follow you.” And that’s not to be haphazard. It’s to capture that moment when music is for the music and not just because it was on a record -- to put people to the test.

 TAC: It sounds like you have a lot of flexibility on stage, a lot of spontaneity.

 JM: Exactly. And keep in mind, the Circle album was thirty-five songs done in six days. And that was because everybody had studied what to do. The Made in Brooklyn album, with all the people I mentioned and several others like David Amram, Andy Goessling from Railroad Earth, Skip Ward on bass, John Carter Cash, Steve Martin plays banjo on a Warren Zevon song -- we’re doing a couple Warren Zevon songs because I think he’s an overlooked guy. Made in Brooklyn has fourteen songs and was done in two days. We recorded it all in one microphone, and you had to be able to know the song and play it right once.

 TAC: Tell me a little bit about that binaural recording technique, because it’s pretty interesting. In photos, everybody’s gathered around a model of a human head, and the mic kind of replicates how we hear the music in a room.

 JM: You know when you drop your car keys, you hear ‘em hit the ground, right? A bird chips in a tree and you hear it above you. A car honks its horn while you’re walking down the street and you can tell it’s behind you, right? That’s the way you actually hear. But most stereo records are mixed right to left, as though everything is right in front of you. This binaural mic — in a dummy head with two split mics, one in each ear — it hears the way you hear. When my daughter first got the album, she said, “Dad, I wish you would’ve warned me. I was home alone playing the record and I thought somebody came in behind me.” [laughs] It’s like surround sound without the speakers.

 TAC: I’m not sure I’ve heard another binaural record.

 JM: There’s a bunch of ‘em on Chesky Records. They’ve made about four hundred albums over the years. When the owner of the company came to me with a proposal, it took a while to get it going, to get everybody’s schedules to match up. Then we rehearsed the songs for about five days — we rehearsed by email, too — and it came together.

 On the “Miner’s Night Out” cut on Made in Brooklyn, the drum sound is one of my favorite I’ve ever had recorded with my music. And it’s all with the one mic, all in one take! It amazed me. I was thinking the drums weren’t going to pick up good enough, but no: it was perfect. That was also because of the drummer: he knew that he wasn’t playing rock and roll drums. He was a percussionist. The engineer would come out after we ran a song once and he’d say to one person, “You move back two feet, and you move in a foot. And I gotta move you over to the left about four feet.” Because we were surrounding the mic. And dang, Skip Ward, the bass player — I used Skip Ward on The Crow, the album I produced for Steve Martin. I’d spent five days in the studio with him there and in rehearsal for this album, and I’ve never heard him make a mistake! It’s really disgusting! [laughs] He’s so good. One of the top New York bass players.

 TAC: Did the setup in the room affect the arrangements of the songs themselves?

 JM: It meant we didn’t need echo, because the room was a big, old, out-of-business church that had its own natural echo. That’s why we recorded there. Chesky records in that building all the time. It was a simple formula: the engineer said, “If you can’t hear the other guy playing, then you’re playing too loud. Play like you want to hear each other. If it’s your solo, and they can’t hear you, then they’re playing too loud.”

 TAC: You’d have to have some disciplined musicians to pull that off.

 JM: They certainly were. All these people have been recording for 40 years or more. They’ve gone through all the mistakes and the accomplishments of recording well. I told David Bromberg on “She Darked the Sun,” “Just play one of the solos that I used to have to buy the album for.” [laughs] Sometimes you’d hear a record back in the 70’s and go, “Geez, how did he play that?!” and you’d buy the album because of that one solo.

 That recording attitude is reflected in the live show. It’s a wonderful thing. We feel at ease in what we’re doing but excited about getting out there. We’re playing all the time. The sound check usually goes long because we’re done in about fifteen minutes but we play for another hour. Then we go back to the dressing room and play because you can’t play in the rental car, you know? That’s the excitement I miss.

 TAC: This is a Carrboro show, and The ArtsCenter is literally two blocks from where Elizabeth Cotten grew up on Lloyd Street. You told me you were thinking of doing a special tribute or acknowledgment of her at the show. Are you still planning on doing that?

 JM: Yeah. The first song I learned fingerpicking was “Freight Train.” Years later, I was booking and producing a show for Austin City Limits, and I booked Elizabeth Cotten to come out and tell her story. That was a really neat thing, to get to meet her. At thirteen years old, she had written a song on fingerpicking guitar that has had as much effect on the guitar world as Maybelle Carter’s guitar playing did.

 I was talking to Duane Allman’s daughter a year or two ago. She wanted to find out about her dad because she was only three or four years old when he died, so she was calling people that knew him. I’d spent time with Duane. When The Allman Brothers first came to LA — my brother had convinced the band The Allman Joys to come out to Los Angeles — they moved into the house that I’d rented up in the Hollywood Hills. We had one floor occupied by The Allman Joys — which was to become The Allman Brothers — and the other three by Dirt Band people. It was a mess. [laughs]

 It was really fun. We were on the radio for the first time, and this group of great players had come out. They were set up and playing on one floor, and we were on the other three. They became The Hourglass, which lasted about a year and a half. Then that broke up, and so forth.

 TAC: Looking back, that was such a magical time. You had an intersection of great talent, recording technology that was coming along very rapidly, and an industry with infrastructure that could support new artists. It’s incredible to think back on all the great music that was made back then.

JM: It was very strange: I was living in Laurel Canyon, in the middle of Hollywood, kind of. Across the street was [“San Francisco” singer] Scott McKenzie with flowers in his hair. Next door was Ian Whitcomb from England with a hit [“N-Nervous”]. Down the street were The Mamas & the Papas. Across from them were The Mothers of Invention. And at the top of the hill was Steve Martin, writing for the Smothers Brothers’ show, and my brother was managing him. I had a young kid, a nineteen year-old, approach the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band in 1969, and he wanted us to record some of his songs. So I had him come up to make a demo. I play one of those demos as part of the show and talk about how Kenny Loggins came into the radio world through the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, which has always been nice to remember. We recorded four of his songs from that demo. You’ll hear him at nineteen years old and we’ll sing along with him, it’s really fun. You feel like you’re going back to that era, only the sound is better. [laughs]

John McEuen plays some licks during our Skype interview:

John McEuen & Friends present: “Will The Circle Be Unbroken” The ArtsCenter in Carrboro

Friday, November 10th

8:00pm

Tickets:

http://artscenterlive.org/events/john-mceuen/

John McEuen’s website:

http://www.johnmceuen.com/