Philadelphia WCA Chapter Exhibits Collaborative Handmade Book "Who We Are" 

A collaborative idea emerged one year ago in February, 2003 as the members of the Philadelphia Chapter of the Women's Caucus for Art were sitting around Michelle Wilson's living room.

Wilson, co-President of the Philadelphia Chapter of the Women's Caucus for Art, describes the conception of the handmade book project, "Who We Are." to be the product of fifteen visionaries. see full text


WCA's handmade book, "Who We Are". Photo, Alison Altergott.

 

Hollywood, Ending? Bruce Graham's "According to Goldman"

Ridley, PA-born playwright Bruce Graham is quick to point out the secret of his success: "I wouldn't describe myself as an artist-artists suffer. I'm a craftsman."

The wry quip, in the context of his new play, "According to Goldman," reveals an artist's acceptance of both his limitations and strengths. Several parallels can be drawn between Graham and his main character, Gavin Miller. Yet one stands out the most: Each faces a career change. In his early days, Graham was primarily an actor. While he would write humorous monologues, he never considered himself a playwright until he arrived in New York. Why the sudden switch to writing?  see full text

 

Art Came from Behind the Shower Stalls: Reset Gallery Emerges with Collaborative Show

On the second floor above the cobblestones of South Camac Street, within the site of an old Turkish bath house, ghosts meld with telephones, African masks protrude from shower stalls, Xerox transfer prints festoon stained floral bed sheets, and spa rooms become gallery and performance space. This is the gala re-opening of the Reset Gallery at the Reset Spa. see full text

 


Heather Caufield standing before her contribution to “Vice Versa” at Union 237 Gallery. Photo, Steven Holland

Putting the Urban Art onto Market Street - Union 237 Gallery

Self-described, "tall dark and convincing" gallery director, Brian Brown sits behind his desk on the gallery floor. Two thousand square feet of hardwood floors, a raised arch-shaped metal staircase, a five by eight-foot projection screen, and edgy modern art surround him.

An artist, muralist and independent filmmaker, Brown describes the Union 237 mission with the emphasis on mixing familiar with unfamiliar. see full text

 


"Window II" Photo, Smita Rao.

Layered Landscape Luminates Lushly in Lahaska: Smita Rao at Radclyffe Gallery

Bucks County landscapes have never seen so many layers. Digital printmaker and Leeway Window of Opportunity grant award recipient, Smita Rao is showing her painterly multi-media works at "Varied Vistas," a group show at Radclyffe Gallery and Framing in Lahaska, which opened on March 27.  see full text

 


Kate Moran. Photo, Frank Walsh.

Arts Sorcery on Leverington Avenue  Roxborough-Manayunk's Spellbinding Artist, Kate Moran 

Even the simplest summary of Kate Moran's credentials can't be accomplished in one breath. The Roxborough resident is a sculptor, painter, photographer, wood carver, metal worker, ceramics firer, school bus driver, teacher . . . she even finds time for sleep. Moran instructs two seminars at the Academy of Fine Arts on North Broad Street and teaches a 3-D class at Arcadia University. She has also won the coveted 1993-1994 Pew Foundation Grant for Photography. see full text

 

"King Otep" 
D.J. Otis the Rigger
by , Jason Cicchini and Taylor Hart

Pulsating beats blast out of the speakers. Clicking and dinging, accents float about the room like glittering, electronic airwaves. The indefinable sound of the new EP "October," is built from an electronic wonderland of over-lapping sounds, beats, and rhythms, by DJ Otis Brown, a.k.a. Otis the Rigger.

The psychedelic thrills, beating drums and dreamlike synthesizers have been blended masterfully here. The artist repeats his father's prophesy. see full text

 

Mickey Roker 
The Voltan of Ortlieb's Jazzhaus 


"I have practiced hard to be able to play with greats like Mickey Roker," said trumpet player John Swana.

In 1932, Granville 'Mickey' Roker was born in Miami, Florida. His mother Willie Mae Roker shared a small house in a poor section of the city with her son and brother Walter James Bowe. Mr. Roker's father, Granville Roker Sr., never lived with them. see full text


Mickey Roker. Photo, Downbeat Magazine

 

 

 

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A Modern Girl's Guide to Philadelphia III: Dissecting Philadelphia's Spoken Word 

April is National Poetry Month, and I would be remiss not to identify at the very least, a sampling of the places in the city where the seedy underbelly of the carnival thrives, where the bards beckon and bow, where sonic scenesters stride snidely to the next spotlight. see full text

 

Artist Ivey: Genuine Outsider Propensities 

Another one of the great, fine, fairly undiscovered artists in Philadelphia is the sculptor/ painter "Ivey," who resides on North 33rd Street in Powelton Village and sustains a studio on American Street (a.k.a. North 'Two' Street) in the Northern Liberties section of the city. see full text

 

"Everybody's Gonna Find Out" 
Trouble Everyday CD Release Show/Band Interview 
by A.E. Masek

It is March 19 and Trouble Everyday has just finished its sound check. There are five young men on stage, wearing sweaters over dress shirts, shuffling their feet, picking at chords, and generally trying hard not to be there. This show, at Philadelphia's Khyber Pass, marks the Philadelphia debut of TE's first album, "Days vs. Nights." The appearance of venerable rock bands The Low Budgets, the Medications, and The Deadly makes an excellent bill. The show is sold out. see full text

 

 

mercator projection

When she awoke
And moved from one side of the door to another
She became a telescopic lens. Latitude and its leanings. 

The air was flammable with it. She saw a couple
But they branched into two solitudes
Retracting middle age. Hooded eyes
By the hooded wall. Nylon coats,
Maps slithering from their hands
& they spoke only into the splaying papers see full text

 

VII. The Indians Or The Ghost Dance 

WE ARE THE GHOSTS THAT DANCE
THE DANCE WE STOLE AFTER
MURDERING THE DANCING MASTERS.

What I'd found
in the thick of
this one big city
I discovered in
myself too late, 
see full text

 

 

 

 

Blinking On Out 
Handling Images and Holding on to Innocence with Singer / Songwriter Joe Webber

"I always write the lyrics second…I try to fit the mood."

Joe Webber reclines in a dilapidated office chair in the basement of his south Philadelphia home where the air is heavy and warm on an unusually balmy March evening. He seems relaxed. However, the sweat soaking his red t-shirt reveals his exhaustion. I am here to compose a segment of a book on the artist, record our conversation, ask Webber about songs he wrote five years ago. Webber's mind is still mulling over riffs and rhythms written minutes before my arrival. see full text

 

Modern Goddesses: Kerisa West - Painter
by Alex Seigfried

Tucked into a small, sixth floor apartment is a studio seen through a bay window. There are drop cloths strewn on the floor, paint cans in various states of decay and several half-finished canvases. Kerisa West is sitting in her wicker papasan. Her work, consisting of over a dozen six-foot by two-foot paintings, is drying. Ms. West confides why she began creating these large pieces. see full text


Kerisa West. Photo, Steven Holland.

 

A.K.A. GENE SHAY 


Gene Shay is 68. The name on his driver’s license is ‘Ivan Shaner’. When Mr. Shaner wakes up in the morning, he likes to have eggs and sausage and a cup of coffee and chat with his wife Gloria and perhaps read the newspaper. He leaves his home in Wynnewood jumps on Route 76 and drives through West Philadelphia and the UPenn campus to reach his broadcasting chair. But if it is a “non-broadcasting” day, he might see his grandson and granddaughter or chat on the phone with his two daughters Rachel and Elana, or gab with a retail chain about improving their broadcasting copy. see full text

 


Eric Alexander. photo, www.ericalexanderjazz.com

New Yorker Cats Can't Resist 
Eric Alexander at Chris' Jazz Cafe


The first Friday evening of February was a sopping-wet, freezing Philadelphia drag. The wind promised to blow street signs off of Samson Street. The windows of Chris' Jazz Café were opaque with steam. Bebop, mixed with swing, flooded the doorway. The patron pays twelve dollars to a bouncer who is bigger than the piano at Ortlieb's Jazzhaus. And she notices that a live quintet is pumping as heavy as a subway train but suddenly as light as a ghost. see full text

 

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