Late one evening, a man was walking back from the store to his home. Moonlight trickled through tree limbs and Spanish moss like a stained glass canopy. The air was warm…and very still. Even the crickets had gone quiet as if they themselves didn’t want to disturb the now deafening silence. Sweat trickled down the back of the man’s neck, and yet he crossed his arms over himself and quickened his pace.

Upon passing the Second Presbyterian Church, the man caught wafts of voices echoing off of stone and brick. He stopped dead in his tracks to listen…

“I’ll take this one, you take that one”

“I’ll take that one, you take this one”

“You take this one, I’ll take…”

The conversation continued. The man amazed, realized that he was listening to God and the Devil in the midst of dividing up the souls that made their final resting place only a few yards away in the church’s graveyard. Worried he had lost his mind, he ran back to the store, made his plight, and convinced the store owner to come back with him to listen.

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I wrote this after visiting the Charleston Artist Guild Gallery last night for their “Painted Palettes” Silent Auction. The Charleston Artist Guild will also be participating in tonights French Quarter Art Walk (which occur every first Friday of the month) from 5pm to 8pm.

The shuffle of feet
Bring the old ones out of their
Faded lawn Chairs
Eyes twinkling
Behind Dusty Frames.

Colors trumpet so they almost
Spring canvas and wood
Off of walls
On their own accord.

Scratches made on paper
Finalizing a well
Thought out
Decision.

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Who hasn’t heard of “The Have Nots!” ??? Its seems they are everywhere…including all over this year’s festival, calling their shows “Piccolo Fringe” and “Piccolo Cheap Laughs”. Last night I got to see the latter in the last running of “Big Dicktionary” (” Stars Bar”; American Theatre) put on by funny men Timmy Finch and John Brennan, who not only hung out greeting every single audience member as they strode past with their tickets and beer in hand, but afterwards offered up an invite to anyone interested in drinking with them (”So…uh…we like to drink…“).

Sitting on a plush over sized blue couch with their comrade, fellow “Have Not”, Andy, and “Have Not in Training”, Meaghan, I realized how much of a family these guys really are. It isn’t all about the laughs. Its about performing, learning from, and supporting the whole troupe.

“Big Dicktionary”, I learned quickly, was entitled as so because the entire show was based on words randomly selected from a (guess?) big dictionary. Ahem, and please note the spelling. I was simply amazed at how two people could keep an audience in an uproar over the words (in order) Physiological Psychology, Quasar, and Emissary.

Favorite quotes:

“I was down at Eric Clapton’s place in Jamaica where its okay to smoke reefer…just as long as it’s not heroine.”

“Here at Outback we offer the ‘Dingo’ (drink)…it’ll kill your baby.”

A theme throughout the entire show was the significant discovery of the irreversible ailment caused by drinking “Dingos”: Thinking Through Your Thighs (which also in turn causes talking through them as well). Don’t ask…I wouldn’t do it justice.

Best parts?

Eight people arriving late, being put on the spot, having imaginary roses strewn at their feet, and watching Timmy and John recount for them the entire show thus far…in fast-forward (it involved several fabulous impressions of the space monkey who’s head exploded and later was transfered through a telescope, “Coco”)

A standing ovation and the “first ever experienced” improv encore for Timmy and John, rightly deserved because I think they possibly played 15 different characters each, interchangeably, and with great gusto.

If you can’t fit in any laughs in the remaining few days of Piccolo, don’t forget that Theatre 99 regularly hosts improv. Check them out at: www.thehavenots.com

Even though I am merely a poor young professional (heh), I have found that the greatest aspect of Piccolo has nothing to do with the various things one can do for free (although, yes an added plus). The greatest aspect is that Piccolo uses local venues for programs, in this case, City Gallery at Waterfront Park hosting the Sundown Poetry Series. Not only was I given an entrancing hour of “spoken word” poetry last night, but I was allowed to wander around afterwards and enjoy the present show in the gallery titled Vanishing Landscapes. How fantastic is it that the Arts always seems to flow into one another?

The poet last night was Barbara G.S. Hagerty. I would describe her work as being quite varied, covering a large spectrum of concepts and forms of poetry. Understanding this about herself, she gave the audience samples from each area of interest. Several of her works were based on Charleston, some so specific as being named after the streets themselves. We were also given poems based on word play (these were used as self explorations by Hagerty, such as the repetition of her initials forming words she associated with). She used her interest in the haiku to put together an entire stream of small poems describing her recent trip to Asia (appropriate…and also my favorite). What I most enjoyed about Hagerty was her use of the pause. Each word had its own meaning, like individuals holding hands to make up a circle, or as if after every word there had been placed a period.

Vanishing Landscapes had some very fine pieces in it. It was a juried art exhibition, so it was curious to see which pieces has been given ribbons and which ones had not…and whether or not I personally agreed. I recommend going to the gallery, and if you can manage to kill two birds with one stone, listen to some poetry as well. The next one is tonight, with Paul Allen at 6:30 pm.

I had never visited the Village Playhouse before tonight, but upon entering was pleasantly surprised to find it was perfect for a show based on the life and music of jazz/scat artist, Louis Prima. Crushed velvet flowed over walls of purple, red, and sea-foam green. Tables were topped with vases filled with peacock feathers which surrounded the main area filled with lush pleather seats and metal fold-out chairs alike…nice.

The stage was backed by brick walls and in its center a screen. The show itself consisted of a montage of historical monologue, film clips and sound bytes, and enthusiastic performances by four female and two male singers. The best part? The show was accompanied, well rather…based on, a live jazz band.

All in all, I was very pleased with the whole production. At first I felt the acoustics were off, but as soon as the singers began to use hand held microphones it was easier to get into the acts as the lyrics were no longer drowned out by the amazing band. Things really started to get “swinging” after the intermission. The performers came out into the audience and danced and things really livened up.

It was a show that left the audience singing on their way out with smiles on their faces.

The best part for me, were my “table mates”; two couples who were in the midst reminiscing about their younger years when EVERYONE lived downtown (West Ashley was the country), and Louis Prima was still on TV. Rick, Marleen, Louis (who says he’s “King Louis” at the house), and Rosemary all tapped their feet and clapped their hands the entire time. They thought it was great that a young person like myself enjoyed Prima’s work so much. My simple answer was, how could I not when he did a voice over for one of my all time favorite Disney character’s? Almost immediately after I explained my interest, it was brought up in the production. Apparently being “King Louis” in Disney’s The Jungle Book, was one of the last things Prima did before he died of a brain tumor. I feel blessed to have had an opportunity to get to know him through his music…and think it’s amazing that he was able to reach so many generations.

Oh yes, before I forget…Rick asks, “Give a shout out to my peeps.”

How can you not love that? Hooray Spoleto.

I arrived at the Footlight Players Theatre too late to get a seat for the very first dance in this year’s Piccolo Dance Festival.  Waiting to hear the applause before I could sneak in for a seat, someone leaned into me and said, “This next group isn’t really up to our normal standards…”  Startled, I immediate thought to myself, What exactly ARE the standards to be part of Piccolo Spoleto??? Especially for young unprofessional dancers?  I sat down and looked at my program to see who was coming up next.  Before my brain could register anything, the lights went down, and I watched with tears in my eyes, wondering at how anyone could be so demeaning to these girls…girls who are out of trouble and up on stage…girls with big hearts and blooming talent.  I applaud them for their courage and passion. 

After an hour and a half, I left totally inspired and came up with a list of all that I saw and why I think every group in that show (unfortunately I didn’t get to see them all) was “up to par”.  I danced when I was younger and studied the figure during my undergraduate education.  I believe that dance is really not only expression, but performance art, and perfection of the human form.  It is music visualized.  It is complete control and balance sided with organic and fluid energy.  It is raw muscle and tissue sided with ethereal grace and gravity defiance.  Who are you to put a restrictive line around what is and what isn’t in “normal standards”?  Each group had such individuality in their pieces, it would be ludicrous to discriminate one from the next.  Sure I had my favorites, but as a whole, Well done ladies and gents.