First I had to drive through that raging thunderstorm to get to the Visual Arts Center and then make my way through ankle-deep rushing streams of water overtaking the curb to get from the car to the safety of the building.
I did both for the sake of a poetry reading which couldn't start until after the rain ceased beating noisily on the roof. There was a surprisingly good crowd in the room for the latest installment of the Fresh Ink literary series; poetry lovers are not afraid of a little cataclysmic weather it would seem.
Tara Bray led off with her lyrical poetry focused on nature and bird life (chickadees, starling, pelicans), transitioning from that to her next subject by saying, "I like birds and I like avocados."
Poet Bill Notter, standing against a side wall, missed his cue to go to the podium, asking, "Have I been introduced already?" as he approached it (he had, along with a story about how he'd spent a summer digging post holes on John Grisham's estate. "Is that awful for a poet or what?").
A reference to public phones in "Breakfast at the Roadrunner Cafe" resulted in him acknowledging, "This was back in the days of pay phones." Wow, this was ancient poetry.
His work evoked many locations because of the assortment of places he'd lived ("Parchman Farm," also known as the Mississippi State Penitentiary) or traveled to ("California Pasture").
Rounding out the reading was Jehanne Dubrow, whose poetry focused on female voices and experiences and domestic life. References to food (beets, potatoes, onions) and being a wife ran throughout.
One of the loveliest poems was about the elegant embassy parties her parents attended as members of the Foreign Service, with descriptions of clothing and the aura of excitement that surrounded their leaving. "His hand rested on the small secret of her back..."
I followed poetry with a girls' night in party at the home of a local restaurateur. It was fun because I knew only her and one other person, so I got to meet some interesting new women, including a neighbor who lives barely two blocks from me. How have we missed each other?
The food was an eclectic feast with quite a sampler from Kobe, two kinds of hummus and pistachio baklava (and I thought I didn't like baklava; this was sublime) from Mediterranean Bakery, cheeses from Urban Farmhouse and a host of other homemade taste delights (stuffed mushrooms, roasted asparagus, guacamole, crab dip) to ensure that we had something to mitigate the effects of so much much excellent wine.
We repaired to the man cave in the basement and the girl talk flowed right along with the wine. The only problem with a roomful of women is that I can't join in on a lot of the discussions. Tonight that included Short Pump mall, the pleasures of jewelry, shopping for clothes and TV favorites.
I did fine on discussions of city living, biking (and the need for a helmet) and dog walking, though. I'm always the first to acknowledge that I'm a poor representation of my sex and actually, I'm fine with that.
After the party, I wandered down the street to Gallery 5 for music, specifically to hear Chapel Hill's Embarrassing Fruit. Great name aside, I had checked them out online and really liked what I'd heard. They billed themselves as indie Italian pop, whatever the hell that meant (and I meant to find out).
Occupying audience space was the usual assorted musician crowd (more smilers than usual), in addition to mere fans like me. One talented musician spotted me and said, "You're at every show...or at least the ones I'm at. We must like the same music." You mean new and good?
It's always fun to watch drummers study the drummer and guitarists study the guitarists. Those guys got a special treat tonight because one of the Fruit's guitarists had a double neck (6 and 12-string), not an instrument you see out often and apparently of interest to everyone.
Standing with both a guitarist and a drummer, the three of us came up with comparisons to Guided By Voices and a Southern Weezer because of the great guitar sound and melodic vocals. I particularly liked the bass lines, but that's a personal preference. All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable set and I hope these guys come back through town again.
They don't have to bring another epic thunderstorm back with them, but they do have to bring that doubleneck. I love watching guitar geeks gawk.
It's practically poetry to a mere music-lover like me.
Showing posts with label fresh ink. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fresh ink. Show all posts
Friday, March 11, 2011
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Avoiding the Revenge Apology
I could say that my evening began highbrow and moved to lowbrow, but that's not really a fair representation of the two parts of my night. How about I began with the low key and moved on to the more raucous? Let's just say managed to cover two vastly disparate bases, both quite enjoyably tonight.
The Fresh Ink literary series was conveniently (for me) being held at the Library of VA and was to feature Jake Adam York and Kathleen Graber. He teaches creative writing at the University of Colorado Denver and she at VCU. And the man sitting next to me had on the most exuberant pair of blue, black and white plaid pants I've ever laid eyes on; it was hard not to stare.
Graber mentioned meeting the Scottish poet John Burnside and his comment that the tenderest kind of love is unexpressed or unrequited love. "Now that's an idea I can get behind," she enthused. "Let's not talk about it!" Spoken like a true poet, one who writes lines like, "Each living bone carries more than it can bear."
York began by telling us that he'd be reading "...five poems about music and two that are not." Several had song titles for names, including "Blue Velvet" and "Some Enchanted Evening" and dealt with the Civil Rights movement. About traveling south, he noted, "If you've never been to Oxford, Mississippi, pack an extra liver because you're going to need it." His final reading was a new poem he read off his phone because he hadn't had the time to print it out. It was a very 21st century reading.
And then for something completely different, I headed over to Strange Matter on Grace Street to see the documentary End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones. Apparently the guys in the band became friends because of shared musical taste. As Dee-Dee Ramone put it, "If you liked the Stooges, you had to be friends with each other. There were only three of us." Inspired by seeing bands like The New York Dolls and Television, it was the end of overblown 70s rock with narcissistic guitar solos (thank goodness). Joey Ramone explained the development of the group as a chemical thing.
To the world, the Ramones were proof of how good music could be without good musicianship and generations of kids were inspired to imitate that spirit. Between their first national tour and their second, a host of bands like the Replacements, Bad Brains, the Dead Kennedys and Black Flag sprung up in the Ramones' wake.
As was said in the film, "The songs were short and fast and these guys were dead serious." And no guitar solos ever. Footage of the early live shows were awe-inspiring with such energy and brevity; it's hard to fathom that these guys toured that hard and relentlessly for 22 years.
Now that Strange Matter is selling beer, the crowd for the movie was larger. I even ate there tonight, choosing the special, a turkey, Gouda and Granny Smith apple sandwich with honey mustard on rye bread, which was tasty. The most expensive item on the menu is the Apology for $10. It's turkey, prosciutto and bacon with fried bacon mayo between two grilled cheeses. Even funnier, though, was the Revenge Apology with vegan ham, vegan bacon, Jackfruit and basil mayo between two grilled teeses. Ha!
From poetry to punk with puns in between; now that's a hell of a Wednesday.
The Fresh Ink literary series was conveniently (for me) being held at the Library of VA and was to feature Jake Adam York and Kathleen Graber. He teaches creative writing at the University of Colorado Denver and she at VCU. And the man sitting next to me had on the most exuberant pair of blue, black and white plaid pants I've ever laid eyes on; it was hard not to stare.
Graber mentioned meeting the Scottish poet John Burnside and his comment that the tenderest kind of love is unexpressed or unrequited love. "Now that's an idea I can get behind," she enthused. "Let's not talk about it!" Spoken like a true poet, one who writes lines like, "Each living bone carries more than it can bear."
York began by telling us that he'd be reading "...five poems about music and two that are not." Several had song titles for names, including "Blue Velvet" and "Some Enchanted Evening" and dealt with the Civil Rights movement. About traveling south, he noted, "If you've never been to Oxford, Mississippi, pack an extra liver because you're going to need it." His final reading was a new poem he read off his phone because he hadn't had the time to print it out. It was a very 21st century reading.
And then for something completely different, I headed over to Strange Matter on Grace Street to see the documentary End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones. Apparently the guys in the band became friends because of shared musical taste. As Dee-Dee Ramone put it, "If you liked the Stooges, you had to be friends with each other. There were only three of us." Inspired by seeing bands like The New York Dolls and Television, it was the end of overblown 70s rock with narcissistic guitar solos (thank goodness). Joey Ramone explained the development of the group as a chemical thing.
To the world, the Ramones were proof of how good music could be without good musicianship and generations of kids were inspired to imitate that spirit. Between their first national tour and their second, a host of bands like the Replacements, Bad Brains, the Dead Kennedys and Black Flag sprung up in the Ramones' wake.
As was said in the film, "The songs were short and fast and these guys were dead serious." And no guitar solos ever. Footage of the early live shows were awe-inspiring with such energy and brevity; it's hard to fathom that these guys toured that hard and relentlessly for 22 years.
Now that Strange Matter is selling beer, the crowd for the movie was larger. I even ate there tonight, choosing the special, a turkey, Gouda and Granny Smith apple sandwich with honey mustard on rye bread, which was tasty. The most expensive item on the menu is the Apology for $10. It's turkey, prosciutto and bacon with fried bacon mayo between two grilled cheeses. Even funnier, though, was the Revenge Apology with vegan ham, vegan bacon, Jackfruit and basil mayo between two grilled teeses. Ha!
From poetry to punk with puns in between; now that's a hell of a Wednesday.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Garnett's: The Anti-Ipanema
What's bright and high-ceilinged, offers meat sandwiches of every kind and already has a homey vibe like it's been around for years? That would be the new Garnett's at Meadow and Park, named after owner Kendra Feather's grandmother. They open at 7 a.m. as a coffee shop with scones, muffins and coffee cake, shift to lunch at 11 and stay open until 10 during the week and 11 on Fridays and Saturdays. As I sat at the bar tonight eating way more than I should have, the crowd was part familiar faces and part neighborhood types eager to check out their local spot now that the lights are finally on.
Here's the only problem: the menu offers 21 sandwiches (including peanut butter for vegans) and there are so many delicious-sounding choices, narrowing it down may take you a while. I finally gave up and just chose one, knowing I'd be back to try the other nineteen. Turns out the Croque Monsieur I ordered (Black Forest ham and Gruyere cheese on grilled Italian bread with Mornay sauce) was so amazing looking that a guy who came in after me took one look at it, closed the menu and said, "I'll have that." For my side, I chose the Black-eyed Pea salad, as did the copy-cat on the stool next to me. It was wonderful. A guy at the other end of the bar loved his side of French red potato salad (mayo-less with mustard vinaigrette) so much he ordered another round of it instead of dessert.
And speaking of desserts, they are just as awesome at Garnett's as at Ipanema; Kendra has always served the sweet-tooth crowd very well and, for that, she has my enduring gratitude. I had the chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and raspberry, so there was much for me to like on that plate. I came home with a slice of the chocolate pie for tomorrow, after watching a girl eat a piece of it and close her eyes in pleasure after each bite . My next visit will conclude with the Hummingbird cake, a favorite of mine that's hard to find anymore.
It'll be another week or two until they have their ABC license for beer and wine, so until then, you'll have your choice of homemade mint lemonade, iced tea or Boylan's sodas.
On a side note, I began my evening at the Visual Arts Center for the latest installment of the Fresh Ink literary series. Josh Harmon, a finalist in VCU's First Novelist competition, read from his book, "Quinnehtukqut." Harmon's sense of place and the fiction he creates around it made for a very satisfying listen, even for someone like me, who rarely reads anything but non-fiction.
You may have missed Harmon, but you've got plenty of time to check out Garnett's for a very satisfying experience. And so you know, you can admire the jars of pickles that line the bar wall, but they're just for show.
Here's the only problem: the menu offers 21 sandwiches (including peanut butter for vegans) and there are so many delicious-sounding choices, narrowing it down may take you a while. I finally gave up and just chose one, knowing I'd be back to try the other nineteen. Turns out the Croque Monsieur I ordered (Black Forest ham and Gruyere cheese on grilled Italian bread with Mornay sauce) was so amazing looking that a guy who came in after me took one look at it, closed the menu and said, "I'll have that." For my side, I chose the Black-eyed Pea salad, as did the copy-cat on the stool next to me. It was wonderful. A guy at the other end of the bar loved his side of French red potato salad (mayo-less with mustard vinaigrette) so much he ordered another round of it instead of dessert.
And speaking of desserts, they are just as awesome at Garnett's as at Ipanema; Kendra has always served the sweet-tooth crowd very well and, for that, she has my enduring gratitude. I had the chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and raspberry, so there was much for me to like on that plate. I came home with a slice of the chocolate pie for tomorrow, after watching a girl eat a piece of it and close her eyes in pleasure after each bite . My next visit will conclude with the Hummingbird cake, a favorite of mine that's hard to find anymore.
It'll be another week or two until they have their ABC license for beer and wine, so until then, you'll have your choice of homemade mint lemonade, iced tea or Boylan's sodas.
On a side note, I began my evening at the Visual Arts Center for the latest installment of the Fresh Ink literary series. Josh Harmon, a finalist in VCU's First Novelist competition, read from his book, "Quinnehtukqut." Harmon's sense of place and the fiction he creates around it made for a very satisfying listen, even for someone like me, who rarely reads anything but non-fiction.
You may have missed Harmon, but you've got plenty of time to check out Garnett's for a very satisfying experience. And so you know, you can admire the jars of pickles that line the bar wall, but they're just for show.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Poetry to Feed the Soul and Mind
Fresh Ink, a new author series at the Visual Arts Center debuted tonight with two poets doing the reading.
Carol Ann Davis and James Hoch were very different stylistically, which made for a most enjoyable contrast in what the audience heard. I couldn't have been the only one who appreciated the contrast.
Davis' work was far more introspective and even she acknowledged having to look for "something lighter" to read us toward the end. Her poems had the loveliest phrasing and, not surprisingly, I could relate to her female take on things.
On the other hand, much of Hoch's poetry contained a great deal of humor, both overt and implied. Not all of it was humorous by any means, but when it was there, it caused many of us to chuckle or even laugh out loud.
I know poetry readings aren't for everyone, but then neither is poetry. In my humble opinion, though, far more people would appreciate poetry if they heard it read, rather than just reading it silently themselves as is so often the case.
Not sure I'm right? Close your eyes and imagine a lover reading a poem to you.
Especially when it's read by the author, poetry read aloud can be a beautiful experience.
And who isn't looking for beautiful experiences?
Carol Ann Davis and James Hoch were very different stylistically, which made for a most enjoyable contrast in what the audience heard. I couldn't have been the only one who appreciated the contrast.
Davis' work was far more introspective and even she acknowledged having to look for "something lighter" to read us toward the end. Her poems had the loveliest phrasing and, not surprisingly, I could relate to her female take on things.
On the other hand, much of Hoch's poetry contained a great deal of humor, both overt and implied. Not all of it was humorous by any means, but when it was there, it caused many of us to chuckle or even laugh out loud.
I know poetry readings aren't for everyone, but then neither is poetry. In my humble opinion, though, far more people would appreciate poetry if they heard it read, rather than just reading it silently themselves as is so often the case.
Not sure I'm right? Close your eyes and imagine a lover reading a poem to you.
Especially when it's read by the author, poetry read aloud can be a beautiful experience.
And who isn't looking for beautiful experiences?
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