Orlando Weekly - Music Blog

"It's not just a garage sale, it's a rite of passage."

That was the subject line of the e-mail sent by man-of-eclectic-interests Pat Greene, who can't put his old shit out for sale without turning the event into a circus with an emcee. Below is a copy of his invitation, and if you want more insight into the intellectual scenester who's always got an interesting story to tell, take a look at his blog.

This Saturday [June 28] I'm having a garage sale, several others will have tables set up. Garage sale comic Gene Slacks will be hosting the event. There will be a fashion show at noon. There will be clothes, vinyl, lawn maintenance gear, kitchen crap etc.
The event will be from 8AM-2PM.

I live at 209 Hibiscus Ct.
Orlando, FL 32801
(407) 913-1426 if you get lost

No, they're not guitars for giants; they're art objects, silly. Blank canvases, in fact. Orlando's newest public art venture will feature these hulking axes in conspicuous spots around town, but they won't be all white like you see them here -- they'll be painted or otherwise artistically adorned by local artists. Organizers are really hoping this exhibit "strikes a chord" (their pun, not mine) with everyone who views it.

According to press releases we've received, the entire exhibit won't be revealed until September, but local artist "Tattooed Bill" Roberts is getting a head start by being chosen to paint the inaugural sculpture, which is installed outside CityArts Factory -- a prelude to the big unveiling, if you will.

Anyway, on to the important stuff: many of these 10-foot sculptures are waiting for artists to make them beautiful. Interested artists should visit the official website, e-mail orlandoguitartown@gibson.com, or call the hotline at 1-866-321-4212 for applications and all the gory details. But you'd better get cranking, 'cause there's a July 15 deadline.

I got a call yesterday from Orlando Arts Getaways, one of the organizations behind the Red Chair Project, asking for help in getting the word out about their Neapolitan Saturdaze, a series of dinner/arts/drinks packages that give the planning-deficient a full evening of fun – and it supports local businesses and arts groups to boot. And as we here at C2G are nothing if not fans of ways to get folks out to support local arts, I was happy to oblige.

Here’s how it works: Each week they line up a trio of activities that includes dinner, an event such as a theater performance or concert and a drink at a local watering hole. The benefit to you is not only do you not have to rack your brain for solutions to the perennial “whaddya wanna do tonight” question, but you also get discounted deals on the food and tickets. For example, this week’s combo package includes dinner at Ethos Vegan Kitchen, tickets to see one of the final performances of the Fringe play The Boy’s Own Jedi Handbook and a drink of your choice at Infusion Tea. All for $25 per person. Not bad for a complete night out on the town, especially in these tough financial times.

There you have it. Consider yourselves informed. Keep an eye on the Red Chair Project site for future getaways, and be sure to come back and comment here if you go this week, to let us know if you loved it/hated it/became vegan (or a jedi) as a result.

As usual, a number of local happenings rolled across my desk a smidgen past deadline this week, so here are a few of the ones that didn't make it into print, in case you're looking for something to do tonight/this weekend and weren't quite satisfied with the plethora of options presented in The Week this week.

Tonight:
Juneteenth Kick-Off Reception (if you don't know what it is, Google it)
Art Show at Built 4 Speed
Unwind Open Mic

Saturday:
Juneteenth Music Festival

Have fun!

Here's an e-mail sent today by Seth Kubersky, our Live Active Cultures columnist and director of The Boy's Own Jedi Handbook, which debuted at the recent 2008 Orlando International Fringe Theatre Festival:

As you may know, Peni Lotoza (local actress, costumer, and box office manager for the Rep) has been facing some health issues lately. She was recently diagnosed with cancer, and had one of her lungs removed last week. She's back home and making an amazing recovery, but she's got some healing ahead of her, and plenty of expenses to cover.

To help her out, we are holding a benefit performance of Stephen Massicotte's comedy THE BOY'S OWN JEDI HANDBOOK at 7:30 p.m. Friday, June 20 at Theatre Downtown. The hit show from the 2008 Fringe festival stars Michael Marinaccio, Sarah Jane Fridlich, and Peni's husband, Christian Kelty, and is directed by me. Tickets to the Friday performance are $10, and 100 percent of the proceeds goes directly to supporting Peni's recovery. We will also be holding a benefit auction of rare and vintage Star Wars toys and collectibles.

Peni has done so much for Orlando's theater community over the years, but she hates anyone making a fuss over her, so I hope we can get a full audience to show how many people are behind her. Please pass the word!

********************

THE BOY'S OWN JEDI HANDBOOK

The sold-out hit of the Orlando Fringe Festival is back by popular demand!

Michael Marinaccio stars with Christian Kelty and Sarah Jane Fridlich star in the hilarious and heartwarming tale of three best friends and their 1977 quest to master the Force. .. and survive the school play!

Written by Stepen Massicotte, award-winning author of Mary's Wedding.
Directed by Seth Kubersky

"You don't have to be a Star Wars fan to thoroughly enjoy The Boy's Own Jedi Handbook. You just had to have been a kid once, and I think we all qualify for that ... Fantastic acting ... plus great direction ... Check this one out, folks." -- Kelly Fitzpatrick, Orlando Sentinel

"Better than a night in a Tatooine dive bar." -- Carl F. Gauze, Ink19

Only three shows Left!
Friday 6/20 @ 7:30pm ***SPECIAL BENEFIT PERFORMANCE***
Saturday 6/21 @ 7:30pm
Sunday 6/22 @ 3:30pm

Theatre Downtown (2113 N Orange Ave @ Princeton Avenue)
ONLY $10!
Call 407-841-0083 for reservations
www.theatredowntown.net

Not for humans. For puppies!

Bring your un-innoculated pups or kitties (they must be older than four months) to the Taft Community Center (9450 S. Orange Ave.) this Saturday, June 14, between 9 a.m. and noon and they'll get a free rabies vaccination, compliments of Orange County Animal Services. It's like pet amnesty day! OK, so I stole that from the event organizers. But it's still a sweet deal if you've got domesticated animals that might occasionally make their way out into the streets and rub shoulders with God knows what kind of furry riff-raff. And who doesn't want their pets to practice safe slumming? Call (407) 836-3111 or visit www.ocnetpets.com for more info.

Oh, and you can apparently also unload any unwanted cats or dogs on the spot, no questions asked, at this event. Taking your neighbors' pets, however, is not recommended.

Yup. It's true. Liz Langley of Juice fame is back in our pages this week, with a review of The Big Penis Book. (See a big, long preview for yourself at www.taschen.com.)

Yes, Gay Days may be over, but the penis is still in front, and so Liz invites fellow aficionados to browse the pages at her Liz Langley's Back With Big Ones Cocktail Party, 7 p.m.-9 p.m. Friday the 13th at (where else?) the Peacock Room.

I've been a lover of Liz's writing for years, and when we met for a drink and I told her about the book, she just had to have it. That girl. And it arrived from the German publishers with its own brown cardboard carrying case to tote it around.

As soon as the story's posted tomorrow, there will be a live link here. In the meantime, here's a tease of Liz's review:

It’s crazy that “dick” is a pejorative term when so many of us, whether we have one or not, look upon the phallus with giddy fascination, fierce pride of ownership and/or big, big love.

This big, big love does not require a big, big cock to inspire it – we’re not blowing smoke up your skivvies when we say volume isn’t that important.

If, however, a wang as big as a party sub is right up your alley, boy, do the size queens at Taschen Books have something for you.

The Big Penis Book is a big book (an LP-sized hardcover, 384 pages) celebrating supersized stiffies and the photographers who immortalized them. It’s the follow-up to Taschen’s 2006 hit The Big Book of Breasts, also edited by Dian Hanson, and boasts more than 400 photos of some startlingly major tent poles, including rare pics of “the 13-and-only” John Holmes. Hanson, once dubbed “the most cerebral pornographer in America” by New York magazine, offers us not just the pictures, but also a fascinating history of penile aesthetics and erotic male nude photography. …

“I hate Chuck Palahniuk.”
“Well, I hate him more.”
“Well, I hate him so much, I hate people who like him.”

This conversation between me and Billy Manes was spurred by his espying Snuff on my desk. And before I go any further, I should mention that I liked Fight Club; this isn’t an across-the-board Palahniuk bashing. But:

I read this book over the weekend, and it is simply dreadful. Dreadful. I don’t even have a problem with the subject matter—oh and what is that subject matter? Glad you asked. As you might assume from Chucky P’s involvement, it’s not about a preparation of pulverized tobacco to be inhaled through the nostrils or placed against the gums; it’s about the dethporn.

But no, it’s not the porniness; it’s the ~~suckiness~~ ~~shittiness~~ (it’s really hard to find a word here without a porny double entendre and hey, oops, I did it again). In this situation, it’s tempting to downplay squeamishness so as not to seem like a sex-negative killjoy, but Snuff is unsexier than Andrea Dworkin. Not to mention the sloppy writing: the flabby pacing, the absurd plot (not in a good way), the cringe-inducing descriptions (again not in a good way). Reading it, I began to experience that particular fling-it-across-the-room sort of rage induced by a hype-fueled literary load of bullshit. Even the choice of brown ink for the text made me sneer.

But the jacket design is kind of good: Nice work, Rodrigo Corral. Corral also designed James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces, and in my opinion, a good chunk of its sales were thanks to his design. Especially pre-Oprah (and pre-media takedown), book shoppers picked it up just because of that jacket. But book design is a subject for another day.

Got a note from Becky Morgan, producer of the Arts Connection radio program on WMFE, announcing her dismissal from the station after six years – and before that, Ben Brotemarkle was the voice of the show he founded in 1992.

It was unexpected, even though last August WMFE started a television version of Arts Connection, and cut back Becky's hour-long show into 30 minutes and moved it to Thursday instead of the show's signature Friday evening. (FYI, I've had the pleasure of working with Debra Lindgren, the producer of the TV version, and she's sharp.)

Until last year, the radio Arts Connection was the only local programming left at WMFE after the station made drastic cutbacks years ago, with promises of new local programming down the road. (Read "On the Comeback at WMFE: Local Programming.")

The station claims it's just the part of the cost of doing business in a weak economy and that they can't justify spending the money to keep the show afloat.

But stepping away from the alleged "business-only" decision, I have to say that I'm going to miss listening to Becky's interviews that were fueled with her passion for the local arts. She worked her butt off to get Arts Connection on the air every week, and she did a damn fine job. We're going to miss her.

Not sure how this one slipped by me, but I wouldn't rule out the possibility that it was eaten by some weird SQL hacker bots from China (yeah, I don't know that that means, either) that spent most of last week driving Mr. Ian Monroe (and others of us here who depend on our website to, you know, do our jobs) batty. Regardless, you won't see this show in the paper tomorrow, but I'm tellin' you about it now--a full two days in advance--so don't say I never gave you nothin'.

The Dark Romantics are playing at Redlight Redlight on Friday (9 p.m.; all ages; $7) to celebrate the release of their brand new 7" vinyl, Lonely/Roads (New Granada Records), with Mike Dunn & the Kings of New England and Candy Bars rounding out the lineup. Show admission includes a copy of said 7", plus free downloads. Which means for seven bones you get a sweet record, downloads, plus one free beer (if you're of age). Not a bad deal at all. If you can't make it to Redlight, TDR will be playing in Tampa on Saturday, and Pensacola on Sunday, if you fancy a road trip. Check out their MySpace for details.

It’s impossible for me to objectively evaluate Godot Arrives: it the sequel to a classic work that I just directed myself, and it’s helmed by my close friend Christian Kelty. With that disclaimer in mind, I’ll say the show wildly exceeded my substantial expectations. The idea of sequelizing a seminal work of absurdist literature like Samuel Beckett’s Waiting For Godot seems, well, absurd. But Daniel Curzon’s script demonstrates an understanding of Beckett’s concepts and characters without being a simple rehash.

The story starts almost precisely where the original stopped, with Gogo (Tony Robinette) and Didi (Ryan Leyhue) waiting forlornly for the eternally delayed Godot. Things quickly diverge when Godot (Erin Cline) shows up (or does she?) in the form of a ditzy and demanding deity. She tortures the two with theological trappings (like a tater-tot communion), training them to be indifferent to pleasure and pain. Just when her pseudo-Buddhist blathering becomes unbearable, in comes Bozo (Joshua Eads-Brown) the satyric clown to bedevil them some more with a squirt gun and a sinister smile.

Curzon accurately apes Beckett’s back-and-forth bickering, but Kelty’s cast blasts things into overdrive by plowing through it at a blistering pace. Their verbal and physical dexterity make the show a vulgar vaudeville of vertiginous velocity. But it isn’t just about crude regurgitation gags and drive-by Grouchoings: Beckett’s subtext about the futility of self-improvement in the absence of divinity is intact, only transformed into text – likely a wise choice when reaching an impatient modern audience. There isn’t a ton of subtlety in watching God and Satan toy with their creation over a capricious wager, but there doesn’t need to be when the expertly-executed pratfalls come this fast and furious. As the Mad Hatter-eque master of the universe says, “the rules are always clear, it’s what they mean that isn’t”. Amen and hallelujah.