Debate Night

Monday night, I watched the Presidential Debate between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. At first, it seemed like we'd see a different Trump than the "tangerine trash can fire" that won the primaries. He sounded like maybe he had an argument about trade, rather than the word salad strewn with casual lies he usually employs when speaking publicly. For a second, I thought, maybe he did prepare, and I got a smidgen worried. Not for Hillary exactly, because she's had a lot of debate experience, but for America. I thought if he could make himself sound halfway plausible, he might be able to reach some voters that have so far been undecided.

Trump sounding halfway plausible for two seconds.

But then, as the debate went on, and Clinton needled him on some of his past comments, the old Trump emerged, the one who can't let anything pass, the one who keeps smearing people even after it'd be to his advantage to move on. He melted down like a CheezWhiz volcano, and Hillary Clinton got to look at America like the cat that got the cream.

Nevermind, CheezWhiz volcano in full effect.

You may not love our choices, but if you have to cross a chasm, do you go with the bridge that you don't totally trust, or do you just throw yourself off the precipice? The thing that makes me really sad is that even after this election, after Hillary wins (I really hope she wins), Trump and the ugliness he's brought out in our national discourse won't go away. He's legitimized conspiracy theorists, white supremacists, and alt right nuts and made a place for them in the mainstream conversation.

Whatever you think, please do register today, and VOTE on November 8th.

Charlotte Brontë

I read my first Victorian novel at the tender age of 14. It was Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre and I was an immediate fan. I admired the titular character's independent cast of mind, even as she grew up under the thumb of cruel guardians, teachers, and punishing circumstances. The author's biography was another reason to love her. As an adolescent in the hinterlands myself, with mainly books and my imagination (and, ok, TV) to amuse me, I felt a kinship with Charlotte and her siblings. Tampa may not have been Haworth Parsonage exactly, but my 14 year old self wanted to believe we were kindred spirits. Back then, books had such a hold on my imagination, they were more real than my waking life; their characters and their creators walked the school halls with me, whispering commentary in my ear as I made my way to class or tried to concentrate on a lecture. I'm happy to say that even now, Jane Eyre still satisfies. I read it every couple of years, and I'm always impressed with Jane's insistence that she live her life according to her own ideas, and no one else's. So here's a portrait of one of my favorite writers, with the bleak and beautiful Yorkshire moors of her home. Couldn't you just see her sitting at the back of the classroom, whispering ironies in my ear?

The GOP Debate...and the Donald

Last night was the GOP debate, and as promised, here's a drawing I made while watching. The stage was still pretty crowded, with seven candidates debating, which made for a much more crowded picture than the Democratic Town Hall. Cruz and Rubio are doing the best, so they're the biggest, with Christie, Paul, and Jeb still there, all trying to stay relevant. Fading into the background are Kasich and Carson. More prominent are the moderators, especially Megyn Kelly. Her profile's a lot higher thanks to this kerfuffle with the Donald—who takes the center, because even in his absence, he's doing the best in the polls, a black hole sucking all the sense and most of the air out of this race.

Democratic Town Hall

I missed almost entirely all of the Democratic Town Hall the other night, but happily, in the internet age, that doesn't mean I missed it forever. I was able to go back and watch the whole thing (or most of it. It was long!), and sat down and did some drawings. I'm posting the one I like the best. I started with some big patches of color that I put down just because. Those stages are so sterile and always red, white, and blue. I get it, they're being patriotic, but I wanted to get away from the flag colors and just have some fun. It's mostly Bernie and Hillary, but there's Martin O'Malley in the middle, drawn to about the scale of his polling numbers.

I'm getting ready to draw the Republican debate Thursday night (but not the Donald).

Debatorama

Last night I went out to watch the Republican debate with friends. The down side of that is that I didn't get to hear too much between bar patrons and the Mets game that was going on in the front of the bar. Luckily, I don't need to hear the debaters to draw them! Aural context always helps, but so much can be picked up from their expressions and body language, it's not really necessary.

Rubio and Rand

Carly Fiorina

Jeb Bush

By far, Trump is the most fun to draw. It's not just that he's always pulling hilarious faces, but he has great theatrics. His gestures are as outsized as his rhetoric.

Happy birthday, Herman Melville!

I was all set to do a post with some people drawings, but then my friend Carly Larsson reminded me that it was Herman Melville's birthday with her drawing of the Seaman's Bethel in New Bedford. I read Moby Dick earlier this year, and since then, my regard for Herman Melville is through the roof. Not just for his brilliance in examining America through the lens of whaling (although, yes!), but for the absolute unique quirkiness of the book and the voice that animates it: thoughtful, philosophical, tender-hearted. I mean, it is really one of a kind, and if it didn't exist, I don't know how one could even imagine it. (If you want to find out more, but maybe don't want to read 700+ pages, check out the Studio 360 show on it.) So, here's to unusual personalities that make astounding art! I've drawn him with the ocean on his mind, dreaming of whales. Happy birthday, Herman Melville!

Upper West Side Café

In case you haven't heard or live elsewhere, New York is COLD right now! As in, single digit temperatures! When winter comes around, I try not to let it affect my social life too much. In the warmer weather, there are plenty of outdoor activities, but on days like these a café is my most likely destination. I'm lucky that every neighborhood in New York has its own cafés and each showcases the personality of that neighborhood. In this case, I went to meet April of Brass Ring Studio on the Upper West Side where we found a very Upper West Side crowd. It was a good chance to break out my watercolors and work on my people!

There was a college student working on her paper.



A couple having a very thoughtful discussion. I know it was thoughtful because he kept stroking his beard.



A couple of older ladies talking about mutual acquaintances and holiday plans.


A little girl dressed very stylishly and complaining about her hot chocolate as her harried mother tried to work out their schedule.


Hope you're staying warm, wherever you are!

Subway Portraits

When I'm not reading a book during my commute, I'm usually people-watching. I'll admit, I'm very sneaky: sometimes my book is just for cover so I can people-watch all the more! The subway is a great place to see everyone doing their thing. You'll see just about everyone on the subway,

tired, older ladies on their way home from work,


fashionable young men,


hipsters (that mustache was for real!),


people engrossed in their reading material,


and, of course, missed connections.

Time for Friends

The Dalvero Academy has featured a drawing I made of a crit in progress on their homepage and it made me think of sharing a few more of the many, many drawings I've made of my friends and classmates over the years. I like being able to draw the same people over a long time. Each time I draw them, I know them a little better and hopefully am able to get a little closer to who they are.

Roomful of Teeth with William Brittelle, Caleb Burhans and Merrill Garbus

Saturday night, I went to the Ecstatic Music Festival with my friend Julia to see the vocal ensemble Roomful of Teeth singing compositions by William Brittelle, Caleb Burhans, and Merrill Garbus of tUnE-yArDs. Roomful of Teeth filled the hall with throat singing, exhalations, yodeling, and more. This drawing was made over two of William Brittelle's compositions "High Done No Why To" and "Done No Why Say Do." Sometimes, their voices would hover in the air, melting all together into something striking and beautiful.



Merrill Garbus of tUnE-yArDs joined Roomful of Teeth onstage for the second half on the concert to play several compositions. I've heard a song or two from tUnE-yArDs from the first album, but the concert converted me into a fan. Garbus has a warm stage presence, and even invited people to get up and dance if they felt like it.



And here's Caleb Burhans playing his super cool violin. At least I think it was a violin. He joined Roomful of Teeth and Merrill Garbus for a few songs. This one was very moving, as you can probably tell from the title "why must you leave me now, when you're so far away?"



Last but not least is a drawing of Garbus and the ladies of Roomful of Teeth performing one of my favorite pieces of the night. Garbus cited the music of West Africa as her inspiration, and dedicated the song to the women of West Africa. The sound of the drum, her ukulele, and the swooping, yodeling voices of the women combined to create something kind of magical and joyous.




Be sure to check out Julia's beautiful drawings and her write-up here and special big ups to Judd Greenstein, the curator of the festival, for the tickets. You can see my other drawings from the Ecstatic Music Festival here.

Balzac at Cimetière du Père Lachaise

I have it on good authority that Père Lachaise Cemetery was one of Balzac's favorite places. When he wasn't feverishly writing, or drinking gallons of black coffee, he wandered the quiet lanes of Pere Lachaise. So I thought when we visited, it would be appropriate to look him up. I can see why he liked it. The outer arrondissements aren't bustling, but the quiet in Pere Lachaise is of a different quality, like you've entered a parallel city. The sounds of Paris are muffled, the light is filtered through the tall trees to become diffuse and soft. A curtain has been pulled between you and the world outside.



Fittingly, his monument features La Comédie Humaine at its base, and a dedicated soul had left some roses there.



Le Tour de France

The peloton finally made it to the last stretch of the Tour, the Champs Elysées, around four in the afternoon. They came tearing down the boulevard, made a turn right in front of the Arc de Triomphe, and then went right back up the boulevard. Eight times. It's lucky for me they came by eight times, because they go faaaast! I'd have been hard pressed to draw them if they only came by once. The gendarmes, of course, looked less than impressed.





One of the cool things about the spot I'd picked is that after the race, the bikers all came down to have their team picture in front of the Arc. Before they made their tired way back to the bus, they came over to the crowd to shake hands and sign autographs. Since I was standing in a very, ahem, vocal section of the crowd, several bikers came by to soak up some love, which was my chance to make a few portraits.

Alberto Contador was the overall winner, and the proud wearer of the coveted yellow jersey. He looked exhausted, but found a smile for the crowd.



This is Andy Charteau, the King of the Mountains, in his polka-dot jersey.



And here's Andy Schleck in the white jersey that signifies him as the best young rider. He was favored to win through much of the race, until his brother and racing partner Frank broke his collarbone and had to pull out. Without Frank on his team, pushing him, Andy just couldn't get it done. Here's an interview (it's in English, so just keep watching past the introduction) from the middle of the 2009 tour. The circumstances of their near-win and Frank's accident earned my sympathy, but their fraternal devotion and charm made me a fan. Better luck next year, guys!


And here's an interview with the ultimate team player and my favorite biker ever, Jens Voigt. Around the 1:27 mark, you can hear what he says to his body when he's in the middle of a race. Hysterical!

Matmos and So Percussion at (Le) Poisson Rouge

I went with some friends to hear Matmos and So Percussion play a show at (Le) Poisson Rouge this week. Lichens opened for them. I've never heard of him, but he played an interesting set consisting of only one song. Although perhaps when a song passes the ten minute mark, you make some allowances. It was just one guy, whom the interweb tells me is named Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe. I'd like to tell you more about how he made music, but all I can say is that it seemed to come from a box with a lot of wires coming out, which he would manipulate to different effects. And his incredible voice. It was an ambient swirl of sound with his otherworldly vocals on top. His visuals were extra trippy too, with brightly colored shapes dripping into each other.



I've seen So Percussion a couple of times (see my earlier post about them here), but never Matmos. While waiting for them to come on, my friends and I discussed the cactus sitting on a stool. It seemed to be wired up, but just how would it be "played" or "percussed?" Our only answer: very carefully.

So Percussion did not disappoint. They did indeed "play" the cactus, coming out one at a time, and gathering around it, plucking the spines in playful counterpoint. The cactus is a good example of the unexpectedness and the humor that I've come to associate with So Percussion. They seem like pretty quiet guys. They don't do a lot of stage theatrics and hardly any talking, but they always provide some surprises and a lot of their humor comes through in the music.







So Percussion moves around a bit onstage, but the duo who are Matmos pretty much stay put behind tables. From where I was standing, I had a hard time seeing them. Now that I've been introduced to their music, I'd love to hear more. Matmos makes music out of everything from pouring water to samples of heart murmurs. And it's not just an exercise in musical idiosyncrasy, they actually make it tuneful and exciting to listen to. They also seem like the Gilbert and George of the experimental music world and how can you not like that? Also, I read that Drew Daniel teaches at my alma mater, Johns Hopkins! Charm City, indeed. Despite my obstructed view, I managed one drawing of MC Schmidt as he told a ridiculously funny story.


Look and Listen Festival

This past weekend, I went the Look and Listen Festival to see and hear! The stated mission of the festival is to allow audiences to "simultaneously experience a stimulating visual environment for new music and a vibrant aural context for contemporary visual art. " That sounds about perfect for me, since everything I experience wants to come out of my hands as drawings. It was a varied program and first up was So Percussion, a group I had heard back in March at Carnegie Hall (You can see some of my iphone drawings of that performance in my friend Julia's blog) playing a piece by John Cage called "but what about the sound of crumpling paper." I could only see a couple members of the group, but here is Jason Treuting scribbling on paper during the piece.

The inspiration for the colors and shapes that surround him came from the paintings in the gallery by Beatrice Mandelman. They seemed to go perfectly with Cage's composition, with their playful and surprising swoops and blocks of color. The piece had a lot of quiet spaces, punctuated by the sounds of scribbling, or crumpling paper (for instance) and it's true what I wrote at the bottom of the drawing that sometimes I was afraid to make a mark because I felt shy about the sound it would make.
Between musical pieces, journalist Lara Pellegrini interviewed the gallery owner, Gary Snyder, who gave us some background on Beatrice Mandelman. I loved the paintings, and if you're in the neighborhood (26th and 8th Ave), you should definitely check it out.


Next, Phyllis Chen played three pieces on the toy piano, and if you think that sounds cutesy, then just check out the drawing I made of her while she played:

"Intense!" is what I wrote there on the side, and she and the pieces she played definitely are. While you might think the sound of the toy piano is sweet and tinkly, Chen's approach is more like an attack and she really fights that sweetness to create some surprising and stirring music. She debuted a piece by Karlheinz Essl, here where she reaches into the piano to stir the strings. A microphone inside the piano fed the sound into a computer which gave it back as an echo, a reverberation, a memory?


Here's the composer, Karlheinz Essl as he was being interviewed about the piece.

The choral group Meridionalis gave their debut performance. Their focus is ecclesiastical music from the colonial period of Latin America. Hopefully the drawing gives you an idea; it was just beautiful. They were all holding their music books, but I loved how gracefully they all held their hands. I think it was the sublime music directing their body language.

Later in the evening, the conductor of the ensemble, Sebastian Zubieta, was interviewed. Every sentence was accompanied by a flowing gesture, as if he were still conducting.


After the intermission, Jason Treuting of So Percussion played a piece called "The King of Denmark" which was one of the quietest pieces of the night. The program notes tell me that the composer, Morton Feldman, wrote it to only employ the performer's hands, fingers or arms as opposed to sticks or mallets. And the delicate gestures of the musician's hands were what I noticed most of all in this piece, which is why it's mostly hands.

And cropped and cleaned up to emphasize the hands.


The only drawing I didn't get to finish was for one of my favorite pieces of the night, So Percussion playing "an imaginary city," composed by Jason Treuting (below, during his interview) as a site specific work for the train stations of Brattleboro and Bellows Falls, VT. The piece was perfect, but I could wish it longer so I'd have time to finish the drawing!

The Smithy

Lately, I've gotten more interested in drawing machinery, metal, tools and workshops. Sadly, I don't get to see too many workshops in New York, but I took advantage of a recent trip to Mystic to visit the blacksmith's shop. Not only is it nice and warm inside, but they have more tools than you can shake a stick at! Plus, how often do I get to see a forge? Not often enough! I have more drawings of the printer and the shipyard, which I will probably post at some point, but I think this was my favorite drawing of the trip.


And since it seems appropriate to put him here, here's a page from my sketchbook with the blacksmith who was nice enough to let me sit in the shop for hours.

Berlin iPhone Portraits

I recently got back from Berlin, and while I have great memories of fun at bars and cafés, and being out with friends, a lot of my time was spent companionably sitting around the kitchen table with Julia and our roommate Konstantin. So on the way home from Berlin, while the plane shook in the turbulent air, I distracted myself by playing with the Brushes app on my iphone.
Here's Julia; silk scarf, hair poof, freckles and all:



Konstantin was harder, since I don't know his face as well and I didn't have the original in front of me. I have promised a more faithful portrait the next time I have the chance.

A shout out to my friend Julia, who keeps a beautiful blog of her iDrawings, which were my inspiration. Also, here's a fantastic slideshow of David Hockney's iphone drawings narrated by Lawrence Weschler of the New York Review of Books, as well as a video of a New Yorker cover done by Jorge Colombo with the app.

More from Mystic

One of the high points of the weekend in Mystic was a meeting in the blacksmith's shop. It was a gathering of (mostly) men who are interested in blacksmithing. I appreciate the interest in bygone ways of doing things and lost arts. It's refreshing to find people that are still interested in crafting things by hand, as these people are, in our increasingly digital world. The physicality and the labor intensiveness of the work seem the exact antithesis of our digital present. At the same time, while so many of us are making out livelihood away from it, our physical being is still tied to that world, we still need, will always need things. Ships still need to be built, and not everything can be done by a machine, at least not yet. So here are two of the head blacksmiths, who host these meetings at the Mystic Seaport Museum, and teach others the craft.