Graceful Goodbyes

Graceful Goodbyes

By Tom Wachunas


Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. (James 4: 14)


I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16: 33)



Sometimes I think that both the happiest and the saddest words in Scripture are in Genesis. The happiest, in 1:3: And God said, “Let there be light,”… The saddest, only two chapters later in 3:9 : But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?”

For various reasons and on various levels I will remember this summer as one of departures, separations, fragilities; and amid such vicissitudes, the need to keep my priorities in order. I was reminded of these things – powerfully, poignantly – during the July 6 memorial celebration of the life of Anthony P. DiGiacomo at St. Stephen Martyr Church.

I did not know Anthony, having met him only briefly on one or two occasions. But I know his wife, Lois – one of our community’s most present and ebullient arts champions. In the course of the service there were several tender acknowledgements of her orchestration of the proceedings, prompting one of the speakers to jokingly refer to it as a theatre event that might be reviewed by The Repository. While the occasion was artfully presented, to dwell too much on the merely esthetic accoutrements would be a terribly misplaced attention on my part. Still, Lois, along with her pastor, Rev. Dr. Bruce Roth, and other friends and family, brought all their sensibilities and gifts – artistic and otherwise - to the fore in directing our attentions to a life lived in faith and love. A life that clearly impacted many, many people. A life not ended, but joyously relocated.

Of course, then, this isn’t a review. It’s a thank you note to Lois. Thank you for being married to Anthony for 49 years. For walking beside him and not behind him. For your children and their children. For savoring the light that brings faith, the faith that builds perseverance, the perseverance that builds character. For sharing the reason for your hope, and in that, your courage and unselfishness.

For the remainder of the evening after the service, and even as I write this, another verse - the shortest in the Bible - has been resonant in my heart, John 11:35: “Jesus wept.” The Lord of the Universe, in a moment totally surrendered to his humanity, cried. But his was and is a complete, realized humanity. He knew exactly where he and Lazarus were in eternity. I often think he was mourning more than the earthly passing of his friend and the pain it brought to those who loved him. He was grieving for the fragility of our vision and faith, and how easily we forget the plan behind our immortality. It is in fact a joyous plan.

So again, thank you, Lois, for your loving reminder of that plan and all of our places in it. Here’s to the day when ALL of us hear not “Where are you?” but, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Close Encounters

Close Encounters

By Tom Wachunas

“Any great work of art…revives and readapts time and space, and the measure of its success is the extent to which it makes you an inhabitant of that world – the extent to which it invites you in and lets you breathe its strange, special air.”
- Leonard Bernstein -


With apologies to Olivia Newton John, let’s get metaphysical. All art – the making, presenting, and witnessing of it – is a lover’s pursuit of the beloved, and consummated in mutually fulfilled desire.

So, desire for what? Think of the beloved as a living essence, an ineffable presence, the spirit of an idea that desires to be embraced, savored, given form. A story longing to be told. In turn, think of the lover as a storyteller. All artists are, to one degree or another, storytellers. Their tales may be clearly autobiographical yet at the same time clothed with mystery and metaphor.

Further, in as much as artists invite us to witness their stories – their consummated desires - the invitation presupposes that we, too, are lovers of a sort, desiring to embrace and be embraced by the stories we encounter. Our desire, then, is to give those stories form and meaning - to in essence retell them - in our own minds. A symbiotic relationship of the most elegant kind.

And so it is that Joseph Carl Close has gone to great and admirable lengths to bring us a story in his show, “Prologue: Origins of a Tale,” currently on view at Anderson Creative in downtown Canton. Prior to this exhibit, Close’s work has been highly visible in our community, over the past several years, as individual works placed in a variety of contexts and venues. As such, they have often posed a challenge – albeit a thrilling one – in discerning exactly what they’re about. Here is, for the first time in Canton to my knowledge, a concerted effort to present them as a cohesive, interpretable ouvre. Not that the individual works aren’t somehow compelling in their own right. They certainly are. But now, Close’s esthetic takes on a whole new, collectively resonant and gripping logic.

What’s the story? Generally, as he offers in his posted statement, it’s “Welcome to my mind in three dimensions.” Specifically, his mind has been, for the past few years, processing the known histories of three distinctly separate “entities,” and recasting them into an epic-scale, personalized fiction. The reformulated entities are: Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, artist and founder of the Whitney Museum of American Art; Punchinello (of Punch and Judy), the clown character originally from 17th century Italian theatre; and Snow Flake, an albino gorilla. The gallery is organized into three “rooms” – areas, really – each with art works inspired by one of the characters. Additionally, a fourth area is literally the transplanted room where Close lives and makes art - the birth place of this intriguing saga. So the show is actually a reinvented history wherein the characters live, love, and otherwise embark upon adventures both strange and harrowing.

But the art we see goes much deeper than illustrative renderings (which are executed with masterful and breathtaking elegance) of fantasy situations, or painterly snapshots of a fairy tale. Close doesn’t make these characters “live on” in his art so much as he lets his art be a vehicle for melding his persona with theirs - a platform for exploring and expanding upon the aspects of the characters that he finds both relevant and emotionally compelling, as well as mystifying. Even Snow Flake gets to show his art. And after talking with Close, I agree that the dynamic at work here is a complete immersion in the story’s characters – a visual and very tactile “method acting.”

And here’s where, on at least one level, Bernstein’s “strange, special air” comes in to play. The gallery has the slightly musty aroma of oil paint and rust, mingled with old attic wood (though, granted, some of that may be lingering and natural to the space). Close makes art largely from found objects including antique furniture (pieces of which often used as frames for his paintings), metal scraps and hardware, and glass. All of it contributes to a sense of arrested decay and rustic industrialism. Even his paintings seem to be exhaled from the stressed wood, rather than just decoratively sit atop the surface. Close’s palette is dominated by earth tones blended with dusky blues and smoky grays. So there is, to be sure, an unmistakable aura of melancholy that pervades the show, though one that’s far more genuinely tender than morbid.

Above a closed door in Close’s room is the text, “Beyond the door is the next adventure, more dark trials and a chance for redemption.” The appeal of - indeed the desire for - a well-told story is timeless and universal. It’s our stories that reveal our dreams and loves, and our struggles to exorcise our demons. Our victories and vulnerabilities. If what lies behind the Closed door is anything like the Prologue, I imagine it to be a bestseller.


Photo: Joseph Carl Close’s transplanted room. Part of his exhibit, “Prologue: Origins of a Tale,” currently at Anderson Creative, 331 Cleveland Ave. NW, downtown Canton, through July 31. Gallery hours: Tuesday – Saturday, noon to 5p.m.

www.andersoncreativestudio.com

Cold Case Catharsis

Cold Case Catharsis

By Tom Wachunas


A Shakespeare quote for the title of a modern play can certainly be effective in defining its tone. It can also be an attention-getting icebreaker when spoken in the opening scene. Such is the case in the premiere of “The Evil That Men Do,” a thrilling new play written by Deborah Fezelle (of Canton, Ohio) and Sherry Yanow (of Springfield, Illinois), performed by the Richard Moore Theatre Company at Theatre 8:15 in Green.

“The evil that men do lives after them…,” says the character, Andrew Brady, a ghost addressing the audience with genuine urgency in the opening scene. He was murdered two years ago and vows to not only bring his killer to justice, but also protect his still-mourning wife, Jessie, and son, Anthony. Protect them from what? And here another quote from classical literature (Sir Walter Scott) comes to mind, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.”

Tangled indeed. Set in the show business world of New York, Andrew appears to his older brother, Nick McDeare (who was given up for adoption at birth), and enlists his help. Nick is an investigative reporter turned globe-trotting celebrity suspense novelist. He’s also very flawed (an inveterate womanizer), and doubly haunted by his shortcomings as a father and the death of his son. With Andrew’s blessing he takes up residence in Jessie’s New York City home while conducting his investigation, in the process endearing himself as Uncle Nick to Anthony. But there are many tensions and suspicions afoot as he begins to unravel family history, secrets, and connections, not least of which is Jessie’s long-standing relationship with family friend Gianni Fosselli, a rich Italian owner of a cruise-ship line.

The writing in this play is notably dense with intricate, vital dialogue, and as such it demands careful attention. It’s also a fairly long play, but the time factor is greatly ameliorated by the engaging intrigue of unexpected yet thoroughly credible narrative turns. A Nick McDeare page-turner if ever there was one. There are real surprises here that are, thankfully, not prematurely telegraphed in the story line that takes on an increasingly cinematic aura as it progresses. So in that spirit, I won’t give them away here.

Suffice it to say another factor that makes this play so powerful in its storytelling is the consistently superb cast, from “lesser” roles to the main ones. Paula Hillenbrand plays Mary, the housekeeper, with an enjoyable mix of buoyant charm and fierce loyalty to her charges; Rufus Malone Jr. plays suspect Ian Wexley with convincing fear and loathing; Young Alexander Borne is believable in his portrayal of the trusting, vulnerable son Anthony; Kathy Lewis is remarkable as Andrew’s best friend, Abbie – alternately tender, coy, and cunning; and Phil Robb is warmly genuine as police Lt. Lyle Barton who aids Nick in uncovering the truth.

Warm and genuine, too, is Timothy Mark Adkins as the ghost of Andrew. Even his most subtle facial expressions, as he watches the complicated revelations unfold in his family, communicate real compassion. Joe Martuccio, with authentic Italian accent, is suave and self-assured in his pivotal role of Gianni. The best, most compelling chemistry here, though, converges on Ross Rhodes as Nick, and Denise Robb as Jessie. This riveting, dynamic duo embodies all the play’s darkness and light, its pathos and humor, with startling, palpable sincerity.

Theatre 8:15 is an intimate venue, unique in its décor that might be described as Rural Victorian, or Country Baroque. It’s a refreshing departure from the old “black-box,” and the good folks there fondly refer to it as their “jewel-box theatre.” All the more apt on this occasion, as this play is truly a gem.

Richard Moore Theatre Company at Theatre 8:15 presents “The Evil That Men Do,” play dates July 1, 2, 3 and July 8 – 11, all at 7:30p.m. Tickets $10, available by calling (330) 896 – 0339. RESERVATIONS ENCOURAGED. Theatre is located at 4740 Massillon Road, Green, Ohio

Photo (courtesy Rod Lang): left to right, Timothy Mark Adkins as Andrew Brady; Ross Rhodes as Nick McDeare; Joe Martuccio as Gianni Fosselli

A Heap of City Kitties

A Heap of City Kitties

By Tom Wachunas


Every time I walk north on Cleveland Avenue, through the heart of the Canton Arts District and approaching the northeast corner of Fifth Street, I cringe as I behold that monstrous excuse for public art called “Shattered Expressions.” Those sickly-colored faces are unavoidable and joyless reminders (despite the one that purportedly conveys joy) that Canton’s much-ballyhooed celebration of its public art installations might be a little overdone, if not a tad premature. And as if to add insult to injury, those sculpted masks of mediocrity seem like ghoulish sentinels overlooking the pale yellow metal duckie plunked down across the intersection on the southeast corner. That particular sculpture is a magnetic work, to be sure. Evidenced by the garbage accumulated at the bottom of its belly, it’s a magnet for urban litter. Duck droppings indeed.

Ahhh, but hope rules the day. Sometime in late July, a new public art work will appear, interestingly enough, very near “Shattered Expressions,” on an exterior wall of the HEAP Building at 201 Fifth Street NW. The work, DOWNTOWN CATS MURAL, is by Vicki Boatright, who is widely known as BZTAT, and was commissioned by Tim Belden and the Timothy S. Belden Charitable Fund, with support from ArtsinStark and Canton Development Partnership.

The mural (BZTAT’s mock-up is the accompanying image for this post) is comprised of four 4’ x 8’ wood panels, each depicting a cat on a window sill. The windows are simply fashioned in a manner harmonious with the style of the building, and in an interesting twist of perspective, we as viewers are “inside,” like the cats, seeing a city skyline outside the windows. The whole affair is rendered with the crisp BZTAT signature look of fluid, robust shapes that dance in brilliant colors. In all, it’s a delightfully whimsical and bold feline fantasy that will hopefully neutralize the cloying weirdness of its shattered neighbors.

These cool cats will have the upper scoop, as it were, on much of the city litter parading as public art these days.

www.bztat.com

Tripping the Turpentine Fantastic

Tripping the Turpentine Fantastic

By Tom Wachunas


I’ve used the image accompanying this post before. I’m using it again. Get over it. It’s an oil painting called “Leitzel” by Frank Dale, our region’s master teacher of the Flemish method. Unfortunately I am not able to see the show at the Gallery at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Akron, “Legacy: The Master and His Students – The Life and Work of Frank Dale,” which ends on June 30. But I have seen and written about his work in the past, including my post of August 21, 2009, about his breathtaking one-man show at the Canton Museum of Art. Additionally, I’ve commented in the past, sometimes extensively, on a number of his students who are also in this show, including Pam Larocco, Michelle Mulligan, Erin Mulligan, Debra Thompson, and Kris Wyler – remarkable artists all.

Here, then, I am simply tying up some loose ends of my abiding appreciation of Dale and his painting method. It is one, of course, that he didn’t invent outright, but rather researched vigorously, adapted and personalized to one extent or another, I’m sure, and then went one important step further: passed it on. So ‘Legacy’ is a great word to put into the title of his latest show. For without his generous teacher’s heart (along with a handful of like-minded others, wherever they may be) and desire to preserve a technique for which he is clearly passionate, this kind of painting may all but disappear from our midst. And that would be a great loss.

I have been aware for a long time that there are innumerable “contemporary” artists and educators who dismiss this re-kindling of Old Masters methodology as an irrelevant curiosity, or a meaningless anomaly in this overly-democratic era of unfettered, in-your-face expression. I submit to you that such an attitude indicates a laziness of the soul, a tragic reluctance to recognize and savor the disciplines needed to make compelling images in a traditional manner. To make truly beautiful, timeless things. To make poetry. To make magic.

Don’t get me wrong. I have a studied and deep connection to many kinds of painting, both representational and abstract, new and old. The great Expressionists of the 1950s and 1960s, for example, speak to me just as much as Leonardo or the Van Eyck brothers. But I fear that our love affair with wild modernity has ventured into murky waters as we drift farther away from the lessons and visions of the past. We have increasingly become enamored of the notion that anyone can be called an artist (and celebrated as such) not because they’ve rigorously learned, practiced, and mastered a skill, but simply because they made something “unique.”

Consider for a moment these ingredients that Dale listed in his statement as necessary to his “system” of painting: Amber, Copal, Mastic, Venetian Turpentine, Canadian Balsam. The words roll off the tongue like an alchemist’s inventory. These are some of the raw materials that contribute to magical, glassy surfaces, and colors that seem to go on forever, simmering and glowing deep beneath the shine - literally inside the painting, not just resting on top. And let’s not forget impeccable draftsmanship and the demands of careful observation.

I like to think of Frank Dale as a composer as well as a conductor. I know for a fact that in the world of symphonic music there is great concern as to building new, younger audiences for the masters – Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin and a magnificent host of others. Hope rests, for better or worse, in our arts education programs, which in many regions are non-existent, in others a shambles. Similarly, lingering questions come to mind in the world of visual arts. It’s one thing for Dale to pass his baton, as it were, to new teachers.

The bigger question is whether or not new students - who have been taught to savor history - will be there to receive, treasure, and continue to pass on an invaluable legacy.

Wholly the Some of its Parts

Wholly the Some of its Parts

By Tom Wachunas


Expectations and assumptions are fragile, tenuous things, and easily subjected to shattering. Take, for example, the word ‘diva.’ Rooted in the Italian/Latin term for goddess, in the music world it generally connotes, variously, a prima donna, an operatic personality, or an eminently accomplished singer.

The recent show by the Canton Cabaret Dinner Theatre at Tozzi’s On 12th was billed as “Divine Divas” (something of a redundancy there, but that’s certainly the least of its problems). The question is whether the term referred to the original women who made the hits (from the 60s, 70s, and 80s) performed in the show, or the women who covered them here. If the latter, then one might fairly expect an evening of electrifying, stellar vocal performances. Unfortunately, too often that wasn’t the case.

Abby Knowles, Me’ Na, and Terry Everett, accompanied by the Steve Dallas Trio, offered a lengthy program of homogenized pop, soul, and soft rock tunes. All were big hits in their day, while just a handful could rightfully be called timeless (like Your Song, Fire and Rain, Natural Woman). I say ‘homogenized’ because one of the more cloying weaknesses of the show was that many of the vocal performances were tarnished with a patina of generic-sounding karaoke kitsch. And at times the evening evoked those classic Bill Murray parodies of night club acts on Saturday Night Live, which I’m sure was not the intent here.

The fault, interestingly enough, was certainly not in the singers as technicians. Each displayed distinctly unique, professional vocal qualities. The problem was more in the subtle realm of interpretive skills – the ability to compellingly paint emotional color and draw us in to the lyrical message in a convincing manner, befitting the greatness of the song. It is an area of performance that, when mastered, separates good singers from truly remarkable ones.

Both Knowles and Everett are engaging, even charismatic performers, to be sure. Knowles in particular displayed admirable humor and grace under pressure as she weathered a storm of technical problems with her microphone in the first half of the evening. Each of them had their best, most believable moments in the second half: Knowles with a moving and sincere performance of “The Way We Were,” and Everett with a soaring rendition of “Blue Bayou,” which made excellent use of her distinctive vibrato. Still, they delivered many of their songs with a casual sameness of spirit that was more formulaic and cute than magical. I was left thinking that perhaps this genre of music is not their forte. Just when you anticipated that they would make a word or phrase really fly, or for that matter linger long and sweet, they often clipped the moment like pruning a rose bush in bloom.

Me’ Na, on the other hand, knew exactly how to let us smell the roses throughout the evening. She’s marvelously adept at communicating the essence of a song, getting inside it with a commanding sense of when to forcefully muscle a phrase and when to gently massage it.

The Steve Dallas Trio (Dallas on keyboard, Martin Nielsen on bass, Jim Howell on drums) provided an energetic backdrop that was for the most part remarkably tight and crisp. Dallas is an excellent pianist and arranger, though at moments here his lithe-fingered embellishments seemed overly-decorative and arbitrarily applied. Sometimes such indulgences had the effect, oddly enough, of diverting attention away from the singers and the song, bringing to mind the adage that less is more.

With some judicious tweaking both technically and artistically, I think there can be a bright future for this unique venue. The elegant room, which has a dance floor, is spacious, yet intimate and warm. The food is delectable (one of the best steaks I ever had). Lois DiGiacomo, founder of the Canton Cabaret Dinner Theatre, clearly has the heart and the drive for keeping the best of yesterday alive today, and should be congratulated for it. Here’s hoping that her ambitious and welcome vision continues to grow.


UPCOMING SHOWS: September 10, Memories of Motown / October 16, Sweetest Day Musical / additional info at facebook.com/cantoncabaret or rainbowrep@neo.rr.com


Photo: “La Chanteuse Verte” by Edgar Degas, 1884

Dinner with Divas

Dinner with Divas

By Tom Wachunas


And now for something completely different. Lately the lyrics from two songs have been pleasantly invading my thoughts. From the musical “Annie”: “Tomorrow, tomorrow. I love ya, tomorrow. You’re only a day away.” And from “Cabaret”: “What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play.”

Tomorrow, Friday June 18, only a day away, music will be made at Canton’s only venue for cabaret-style dinner theatre. Might make a nifty gift for Fathers Day. In any event, this healthy dose of sweet nostalgia should satisfy anyone with a heart for the pop divas of yore. My next post will be a review.

Meanwhile, thank Lois DiGiacomo for championing an oft-forgotten entertainment form. I’ve reprinted the info here.


For Immediate Release:
Lois DiGiacomo
330.456.7397
rainbowrep@neo.rr.com

Canton Cabaret Musical Dinner Theatre
DIVINE DIVAS Singing Hits of 60's, 70's, 80's
Enjoy the hits of Barbra Streisand, Dusty Springfield, the Supremes, Petula Clark, Karen Carpenter, the Shirelles, Helen Reddy, Linda Ronstadt and others in a musical, DIVINE DIVAS Singing Hits of 60's, 70's, 80's.
Enjoy this show JUNE 18th in a cabaret style dinner theater at Tozzi's on 12th (formerly the Four Winds Restaurant) at 4210 12th N. W. in Canton. Entertainers are professional singers Abby Knowles, Me'Na and Terry Everett, accompanied by the Steve Dallas Trio. The dinner begins at 6 pm and the show at 8 pm.
Tickets for dinner and the show are $40.00 and may be reserved by calling 330.477.7515.
The CANTON CABARET MUSICAL DINNER THEATRE was formed four years ago with an initial grant from the Stark County Arts Council, Arts In Stark, to raise funds for school programming. For additional information: facebook.com/cantoncabaret or email: rainbowrep@neo.rr.com.

Photo: “The Singer” by Vasily Kandinsky