Blog :: Culture|Pulse

Quick Update, or, hmmmm... I spent money

2007-02-03T23:21:00.000-08:00

So, short post, on account of the fact that it's 1:21 in the morning. Just wanted to say, real quickly, that I achieve slumber this evening a happy man. A week of almost too much visual art has passed, and I'm okay with it. On Tuesday, at the Evening With The Arts, I got two pieces of cool art for under $100. One of which is a super cool commentary on terror attacks (from the 1960's).

At Art See on Thursday, I saw a piece of art that I loved, and I came home and told James, "I love this piece, but I'll never get it."

Well, I got it. Tonight - at the ND Museum of Art's Silent Auction and Benefit Dinner. It is sitting next to me. It's called "Talking Shit," and I think it's brilliant.

Though it was a battle, right to the end, I won, and really -- that's all that matters, right?

Even without the "positive blessings," an evening of hanging with some friends always is fun. At the end of the event, I won the raffle, which was an Adam Kemp mirror made out of the remains of wood from the building in which I live, which is also super cool.

Plus I won our table centerpiece - so I came home with three new pieces of art tonight, five total this week. That's not a bad haul. I'll talk more about the auction itself another time, but for now - this is where I sign off, happy about the art options in town, and greet an evening of wonderful rest. Happy rest. A good night's rest...Though, I can hear James downstairs having issue with the wine he drank tonight. It doesn't sound pretty. I think I'll take pictures. Then again, no.

Next week - the 14th - Club Red. See culturepulse.org for details.

I'm out.

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

Tonight's The Night, or, Let's Honor the Arts

2007-01-30T10:32:00.000-08:00

Tonight is the NoVAC (North Valley Arts Council) Annual Meeting, Winter Market and Annual Arts Awards.

The North Valley Arts Council (NoVAC) invites you to attend An Evening with the Arts, a celebration of the arts community, on Tuesday, January 30, 2007 from 4:30-7:00 pm at the Third Street Gallery, located at 28 South Third Street, in Grand Forks.

The evening will feature Winter Art Market – a silent auction fundraiser of “recycled” artwork that is ready for new life, to be shared with others. We have encouraged members of the Greater Grand Forks community to go through their homes and select quality items for the Market. Included in the auction are paintings, sculpture, and other unique objects d’art. Donated items are on view at www.culturepulse.org, click on special events.

Annual Arts Awards

NoVAC is pleased to announce recipients of the Annual Arts Awards:

• Job Christenson will receive the Artist of the Year award. This award recognizes extraordinary artistic achievement with gift of $1,000, underwritten by the Grand Forks Herald.

• Bruce Gjovig will receive an Individual Support of the Arts award in recognition of his extraordinary support of the arts through sponsorship, volunteerism, or other efforts.

• Sanders 1907 Restaurant will receive a Corporate Support of the Arts award in recognition of its extraordinary sponsorship of the arts.

• Lee Barnum will receive a Career Achievement Award for dedicating her career to the arts.

Admission is $10 at the door. All attendees will have the opportunity to win one of two door prizes: one two-night stay at CanadInns in Winnipeg, including a meal and a show; and one two-night stay at CanadInns in Winnipeg.

Also... coming up this week...

See you at these things, or else:

Peace::Ben::TeamCulturePulse

Victory is OURS, or, East Grand Forks Takes First

2007-01-23T13:36:00.000-08:00

In my attempt to equate arrogance to fear, I forgot to boost my own self worth by mentioning the recent victory of the East Grand Forks High School Competitive Show, "Us and Them" by David Compton, and directed by yours truly.

Last Saturday was the first round of contest, and we took home first place honors, by unanimous decision of the judges, in fact.

The play is an absurdest-epic theatrical look at nationalism and the concept of "if you're not with us, you're against us." I swear I didn't chose the play based on my politics, and was very careful not to direct it with any bias one way or another. To be sure, I failed. :-).

The play begins with a narrator, who, on a bare stage, is expecting someone. Two groups of travelers both enter, and lay claim to the same land. Eventually, they chose to share the land, not by joining together, but by dividing the land with a line. After all, good lines make good neighbors, and good neighbors make good lines.

Eventually, they determine the line is not suitable, and begin to build a wall, which grows higher and higher. Especially since it has to be strong enough to keep livestock from breaking through, and high enough to keep chickens from flying over. This continues until each side is obstructed from the other. After all, good walls make good neighbors, and good neighbors make good walls.

Well, as it happens, thoughts run wilder than any livestock, and suspicions fly higher than any walls, and the two groups begin to display distrust for each other. Eventually, they both decide to climb the wall, and see what the other is up to. As this happens in sync, they both discover the other, spying, and after a rousing game of accusation, they rip down the wall, and war ensues. After the battle field is cleared, both abandon the land, blaming the problems on the wall.

The recorder lets us know that this is not new. It happens the same way every time - whether the wall is religion, politics, territory, history, et al. She wonders aloud, "will we ever learn?".

Ha.

The play is shocking not only in its content, but in the fact that it is staffed, quite successfully, with high school students, who get it. I couldn't be prouder of them. First place is an honor, and they are reveling in their arrogance this week.

In any case, a lesson worth learning, and the play is only 20 minutes long. We'll be performing publicly on the 6th of February at 7:00pm with a two other plays in an evening of one acts.

That's all. Horn tooted.

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

David Hasslehoff, or Rid Yourself of Fear

2007-01-22T19:20:00.000-08:00

Fear is an interesting thing. I don't pretend to understand it. I don't pretend to like it. I pretend it isn't there.

When I was growing up, I was the child who was always holding doors for people, fearless. I was the kid that wandered off in the mall, and eventually found my way to the office to alert them to my "lost parents." I wasn't ever lost. My family was. This caused problems growing up; i was the child on the leash.

At some point in growing up, I lost that "fearlessness" and became a smidge of a coward. I think we all go through this cycle, at at some point we try to come in to our own. This is a strange point in life - and it happens around high school. For some reason, I became self conscious about everything... the only place I felt safe was on stage, which is odd. I had great friends, but still felt uncomfortable in most situations. This continued on through college, oddly enough. It continues today.

People counter fear with a lot of things; I counter it with arrogance. It's easy to "put on the cocky" and cover you fear. However, as my friend Wade always said, "Arrogance perceived is confidence achieved."

There's some truth in that.

I think about fear in another way too. I think about the arts. We spend a lot of time talking about "art" vs "cinema," or "art" vs "sports," and we always seem to think about it in terms of finances. Of course, we are competing for discretionary income with these other groups, but we must look closer at the experience.

Cinema, it is you I shall discuss first. The cinema is safe. The cinema is easy. It doesn't take a lot of emotional investment to go see a movie. You can talk during it. You aren't part of anything "vast" and the audience is disjointed.

This is the difference between cinema and live art or sports. Sports and live art create experiences. You become part of something. You have a vested interest. This can be terrifying for some people - especially if they haven't experienced it before. Sports are much more open. You enjoy basketball? Go to a game. You enjoy baseball? Take in a game. You can watch this live, or you can see it on TV. The accessibility is vast, and the opportunity is everywhere.

Not the case with live art. You can only see it live. You can not reproduce a museum experience over television, and before the advent of YouTube, you couldn't readily access Broadway shows, absent of the trashy movie versions of Broadway hits. Live theatre, as well, is only powerful live. It can become a part of your experience.

That, coupled with the decorum of live theatre (what to wear, how early to arrive, when to clap, when to stand, when to sit), and you've got a stressful experience, especially for first timers.

This is especially true with what some consider the "high arts" which include straight plays, ballet, classical symphonic music, and opera (in that order). This includes visual art and museums as well.

Truth be told, there was a time where opera and classical music were for the elite. When art itself was a luxury few could afford. However, those times are past. In Grand Forks for instance, the Symphony is no more threatening than the community theatre, and the ballet has something for everyone. We don't have a lot of opera here, but it is the same. It is all about your personal experience, and I say, to hell with anyone who says differently.

In GF, though, we are fortunate to have some crossover experiences for our arts, and these serve as perfect opportunities to get your first take on various arts, without risk, without challenge, and without fear.

In terms of the visual arts - the Third Street Gallery is always an nonthreatening first stop, but if you want a peek at the North Dakota Museum of Art, please consider ArtSee. Sponsored by the Museum of Art, the North Valley Arts Council and the Grand Forks Young Professionals, ArtSee is an opportunity to mingle with the artists exhibiting at the North Dakota Museum of Art's Winter Art Auction. The artists will be present to discuss their work, and they will have additional examples of their work for sale.

If you are looking for art at a lower cost, consider a couple of alternatives. First, the Third Street has a ton of Bachmeier's on sale right now, very affordable.

Also, there is a new venue in town right now, You Are Here, located at 25 S. 4th St., in downtown Grand Forks. Under the sign "YOU ARE HERE", the show is an "art show-&-sell" group exhibit of works in all media by over 20 area artists.

The North Valley Arts Council, at their Annual Meeting on January 30, is holding a Winter Arts Market. The Market is a silent auction fundraiser of “recycled” artwork that is ready for new life, to be shared with others. NoVAC has encouraged members of the community to go through their homes and select quality items for the Market. Included in the auction are paintings, sculpture, and other unique objects d’art. It is the communities opportunity to purchase quality art at a lower cost.

Besides the Market, the Arts Council will also be presenting their Annual Arts Awards, specifically the Artist of the Year award to Job Christenson, as well as Corporate Supporter of the Arts Award to Sanders 1907, and the Individual Supporter of the Arts Award to Bruce Gjovig. Lee Barnum will receive a Career Achievement Award for dedicating her career to the arts.

There are three opportunities to immerse yourself in the world of visual art with very little risk, ergo, very little cause for fear.

On the performing arts side, there are a couple of events coming up that can serve as a great first glance.

For those that like symphonic music, the Symphony Orchestra has an event coming up that is tantalizing. If you like acrobatics, all the better. Cirque Symphonique is a musical tour de force, featuring the Symphony, the Youth Symphony, Special Guest Artist Renate Rossol (winner of the Young Artist Competition) and former Cirque de Soleil acrobats Ninon Parent and Peter Boulanger, performing astounding acrobatic feats to accompany music by Moussorgsky, Rossini, and Strauss.

The Fire Hall Theatre is also throwing together a great musical, I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. Directed by Job Christenson, this show features some of Grand Forks most talented players. Returning to the stage are Fire Hall veterans and area residents Misti Koop, Katie Hill-Brandt, Jared Kinney, Darin Kerr and Daniel Dutot. Joining them, in her Fire Hall Community Theatre premiere is Debra Berger, a graduate student in Theatre Arts at the University of North Dakota.

In April, the UND Music Department will present an opera workshop, with performances open to the public. More information on this will be available as we grow closer. The Opera Workshop is directed by Dr. Anne Christopherson, who I've blogged about before.

All in all, Grand Forks is a great place to get over the initial fear of the live Arts.

For a complete list of these activities, of course, head over to CulturePulse. As for me, I'm going to work on honing my arrogance.

I, however, fear that I have no reason at all for putting David Hasslehoff in my title. Aw, well, I fail.

Peace::Ben::CulturePulse

It's a brand new year, or, fish out of water

2007-01-02T13:47:00.000-08:00

I consider myself fairly cultured. In a weekend of games, I was voted the most likely to be invited along by friends considering an art purchase. At least I've got that going for me. Right now, I am on my last day of forced vacation, ridiculously procrastinating all the things I should be doing. Item number one: blocking for the EGF competitive one-act.

I sit here, avoiding the blocking and awaiting the arrival of my financial consultant/insurance/investment guy. His name is Michael W. Smith. I know, I know, it's all very "go west young man" but there is an aura of trust about him. Even though, it is because of him that I am painfully aware that I have no worth.

Disjointed as my thoughts are, the future looms. New Years, besides being a painfully ridiculous holiday, makes one ponder their place in this life, and what is next. This year, we celebrated with a few wonderful and bitter people (artists, you know) at a friends apartment. This apartment is a corner unit in St. John's Block, so it gave us a fabulous view of the fireworks all from the comfort of home. Because it was a lot of musicians and theatre folk, much of the night was spent mocking one another through games or around the piano belting out showtunes. Evenings like this, regardless of their placement in the calendar, give me pause; but when we are ushering in a new year, and I am placed one year closer to 30, thoughts of the future take hold.

Because I am a smidge OCD, I have been writing a five year strategic plan for me, and was shocked when all options took me abroad. I am not sure if this is just where my soul wants to be right now, or if I am harboring some jealousy towards my friend Melissa who is teaching in Ireland this semester.

I have spent much time abroad, having toured Eastern Europe while in college, and then spending time abroad in Oxford studying and doing an internship. This opportunity afforded me the ability to travel a lot. It's easy to go to Paris or Göteborg when it's only a 2 hour flight and $50. Same goes for anywhere - looking to blow a week holiday from class? Grab a Euro-pass and jump a train from Paris to Rome.

Living in England was a fantastic experience for me - it is truly a world center. This is not to say that I don't love America or North Dakota, quite the contrary. However, I felt very at home in England. Here, there are times I feel like a fish out of water.

The most obvious difference I note here is my aversion to all things "eco-tourism" or "nature." I don't snowmobile. I don't hunt. I don't ski. I don't boat. I don't hike. I don't bird. I don't fish. And, I most certainly do not walk on frozen bodies of water, drill holes in them, and fish.

That said, I am not obtuse enough to believe that those things aren't cultural. This concept of eco-tourism is a culture on to its own, and while the stuffies that spend all of their disposable income on opera and theatre can snoot about how much their cultural choices cost, eco-tourism, especially hunting and fishing are not cheap sports.

In my effort to extend my vast cultural knowledge (scoff) too those less fortunate (snort), I drag James to a lot of things. When he first told me he wasn't a fan of theatre or musicals, I asked him how he knew. He said he had seen "The Nutcracker" and hated it. Truth be told, I've never made it through "The Nutcracker" and I find the show almost offensive in how terrible it is. (I know, some people love it) I told him straight up that "The Nutcracker" is no representation of theatre, and forced him to go to Sweeney Todd. He loved it. He went twice. Two times to Cabaret. To a Ballet. To a Concert. To the Fall Art Auction.

So, when he proposed that I accompany him on his first ice fishing excursion, I begrudgingly agreed. Imagine the process. I have no jacket appropriate for this adventure. I had to borrow one of his. I don't own the correct gloves... or, more accurately, any gloves. My only stocking hat has a Human Rights Campaign logo on the front, and is a skull hat. I had no boots, or warm socks (bamboo black argyle don't count apparently). It was quite the process, but I managed to get to the ice none the less.

Apparently the large blue thing in the back of our under-stair storage is an ice house. Who knew. Apparently tackle boxes weigh 50lbs. Who knew. Apparently the ice house converts into a sled, so we can pull said 50lbs tackle box, the ice auger, coolers, chairs, underwater camera, last season's camo ski pants and other ethereal items whose purpose i couldn't ascertain. Apparently you must purchase a license for this activity.

The drive to Larimore Dam in James' 1982 Blue Chevy Celebrity, smoke billowing out the windows, was tenuous. A blizzard was moving in to the area, but we were fishing, hell be dam(n)ed... pun completely intended.

I must confess, it was an enjoyable experience. From the first fish I caught, through the 14th. Yes. I caught 14 fish. James caught 25. We released all of them (Fishing was a concession I was willing to make. Cleaning fish was not.) and had a great time. I baited the hook myself. I took the fish off myself.

It was a very manly day, so we countered with a good night of showtunes when we got back to Grand Forks.

At some point throughout this process, the "fish out of water" feeling, at least for me, ceased. It seemed more natural the 5th time your removed a fish from a hook. The meal-worms got a bit less gross each time I had to bait the hook. The 3x6 hut that sheltered the two of us from the storm a'brewin outside felt more like home. It made me wonder how easily we acclimate to our surroundings and how easily we settle into our lives. I suppose the cigarettes and Capt. Morgan helped. So did the company.

This is not to say I'm having a "grass is greener" moment, or anything like that. I adore Grand Forks.

Now, time to sit down and write this five year plan.

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

A New iPod, or, The Year Winding Down

2006-12-26T12:54:00.000-08:00

Here I sit. It's my week off; forced in fact. At the U, you loose a certain portion of vacation time each year if it goes unused. I don't vacation a lot, so consequently I went in to the holiday season with 31 hours of use it or loose it time. Thus, here I sit, wondering what to do with myself. I went ahead and scheduled a couple of meetings for this week. That is okay, right?

This morning, after a night of almost no sleep, I watched PBS. I had tivo'd all the Lutheran Choral concerts that air each year - St. Olaf, Luther and Concordia, specifically. As a student of the Lutheran Choral tradition, these concerts are almost my "reason for the season." They allow me to live in the past and remember the tradition I come from. St. Olaf, especially, since Waldorf's choir and their were founded by the same composer, F. Melius Christiansen. We shared a lot of the same Presidents, faculty, staff and students. I have a warm place in my heart for them.

Christmas was again a blessed time for me. My cynical response to "Did Santa bring you everything you wanted" is typically, "My family doesn't exchange gifts, just barbs and insults." There is no truth to that statement, but I find it hilarious none the less.

This year, my parents relocated to Fargo, ND, and thus my Grandmother played the musical nursing home game. While Ashley, or the surrounding areas, has been her home for the duration of her life, all of her family has no left the area. She willingly relocated to the Good Samaritan Home in Oakes, ND, where her 2nd oldest, Jocelyn, lives. Several of the family members got together in Oakes to celebrate the holiday with my Grandma on Friday. It was a wonderful time, and a throwback to when my grandparents threw huge holiday gatherings on the family farm. Keep in mind, there are seven children (plus spouses), seventeen grand children, and seven great grand childern (plus some grandchildren's spouses). This, coupled with the fact that the Klipfel's know how to have a good time, made for enjoyable holiday family time.

Now, those children and grandchildren have scattered the nation, and our get-to-gethers are few and far between. That said, we still know how to have a good time.

The rest of Christmas was celebrated in Fargo at my parents house, and my niece and nephew proved the theory that Christmas really is about children. Each present was met with awe struck, pure, thanks. The time was relaxing, and the food was to die for. The fat clothes had to come off the top shelf, and I am planning on spending some of the holiday forced vacation in serious detox.

As I finally was able to afford a new iPod without too much strain, I am surrounded by piles of CDs. This week of vacation will exhaust me, and has flown by so quickly I am not sure what is going on.

In arts news, I will be starting as an interim executive director of the Fire Hall Theatre on the 9th of January, while still serving as the ED of the MSP through June. This will be an interesting transition, but we will be working with the Fire Hall and it's potential, upcoming merger. Things should start to get very interesting. Giddy up.

Peace::Ben::TeamCulturePulse

Almost a month, or, Pound that wall, you filthy... (plus some upcoming events)

2006-12-18T11:52:00.000-08:00

It appears that I have an aversion to noise. Perhaps not all noise, but repetitive noise. Recall the slamming of the doors.

My office is fairly fantastic. It has huge windows overlooking a smaller quad. I painted the walls a cool dual blend of taupe and crimson. I enjoy working from this large room on the third floor of O'Kelly Hall, but there are some downfalls. The office is at the juncture of O'Kelly Hall and Ireland Hall, and used to be a dissection laboratory. The upswing of this is that we have central air. Gotta keep the bodies cold.

As it stands, Ireland Hall is going under major renovations, and has been for almost two years. Therefor, our days are blessed with pounding, hammering and concrete drilling. Often so loud that it is difficult to have conversations. Often so forceful that items have vibrated off my desk.

I try to remain positive about these things, and smile, though most of the muscles your face uses to smile were already working to reign in my migraine headache. We have taken to working from home or our conference room, where these noises do not seem to reach.

A month has gone by, and craziness has ensued. Off the cuff, I was sick. Much of my diatribe is taken from an e-mail to a friend in the midst of that, but it serves this purpose too.

One of the benefits of being a vegetarian is, in fact, the lack of illnesses that bog me down. However, it hit me hard. When it comes to illnesses, I am the biggest baby in the world. I spent a full Thursday and Friday in scrubs, on the couch, under as much faux down as I could muster, with every herbal remedy known to man, tons of medicinal remedies, and enough carrot juice to pacify Bugs Bunny. I will someday perform a one man show about the tragedy I've overcome. While I felt better on Saturday, I suffered through three more days before I was 100%. I still have a cough and it has been over a week. Feel sorry for me.

First, let me address the down. As mentioned before, I live in a pretty kick ass apartment. However, as I sit typing this, I can feel wind. I don’t know if it is coming through the brick, the ceiling, the gaping hole in one of our walls from shoddy construction, or just a bitter figment of my imagination, but it is present and obnoxious. “The draft”, as it is often coined, is the cause of our $200 energy bill the past two months. (Have you ever noticed how adding “the” before something hateful or irritating makes it seem less? My sister and I use it to describe my mom’s cancer. “Ever since you’ve recovered from “the cancer”…” We get a chuckle out of that, because the “the” makes it seem like a hangnail. It’s our passive-aggressive way of coping, I suppose. I got it from my friend Mishka who told me about the time he thought he had “The Herpes,” which I think is a reference to Jerry Blank’s “I got’s me “The Syphilis” real bad” in the episode where we learn “Chlamydia is not just a flower.” What? I don’t know...)

I was unimpressed over the energy bills, and revealed said feelings to our managers, as did most of the apartment, and they are working to rectify the situation, but time, apparently, is not on my side. It has been almost a month. Still, "the draft" is ever present. Ever taunting.

Thus, I can blame "the draft" (James sleeps in scrubs, covered in wind pants, and a hooded sweatshirt under three blankets – I am better, my room is about 8 degrees warmer) for my cold.

This blistering breeze killed four of our fish in three days. Secretly, I am not all that worked up about this since we were beginning to look like sea world. But, James takes his fish very seriously, and it really affected him.

I was, of course, near death… hovering just a pica above complete flat line (in reality, I probably had a mild cold), but, determined to play my part in the tragedy of the fish, got up. I mustered a shower, and even shaved. Clothed in the warmest garments I could conjure up, we headed to Petco. It was there I met Lucinda.

We went to Petco because we are exploring the possibility of adding amphibian or reptilian life to our humble abode. I don’t know why I think I want a lizard, but the desire is there. I blame a James Bond movie, where a lizard had a rather larger role, and a rather large diamond neckband. Perhaps it was the bling. Perhaps it was the fact that I am naturally drawn to the exotic. Most likely it was the distracting power of all things shiny.

Upon entering, we ventured to the “adopt a pet” section of the store. In the midst of a variety of filthy ferrets and other vermin who needed homes was Lucinda. Lucinda was a rat. Well, she in fact remains to be a rat and a live one at that (much to my dismay). I apparently was too ill (I love the blame game) to notice the huge “CAUTION: LUCINDA BITES” sign. As I got to close, her very slim, Secret of NIHM snout shot through the cage. Teeth. Sank directly into my index finger.

Needless to say, I bled. I don’t like bleeding either. I laugh as I write this, because it is such a character study of my own inadequacies, but I revel in them. I most certainly wasn't going to let the Petco folk know that I can't read, so washing the wound at Petco is out of the question.

Of course, the nearest place for Band-Aids and a good washing is Wal-Mart.

I may hate Wal-Mart more than Lucinda. However, I suffer through.

Though we are in the midst of the holiday season, and classes have begin the holiday break, there is much to do in Grand Forks.

Let me start with the Greater Grand Forks Symphony. I went to "Messiah" this past weekend and was blown away. Completely. I thought the Symphony, the Master Chorale and the area schools that participated did an unbelievable job.

I have been a "Messiah" fan since probably the sixth grade. My small community's Christian religions banded together and performed this oratorio (look it up if you don't know it - you know the rules, there will be a test) when I was probably in the 6th grade. As my mother played the piano for it, I attended the rehearsals. It is interesting to me that my perception of a person changes the moment I can hear them sing (though this goes for any artistic expression).

I'll take for instance Colleen Dawn. It wasn't that I didn't like Colleen growing up, because I did. She was a young, wonderful woman. She was the wife of the Salem Reformed Pastor and lived just down the street from me. However, she was my piano teacher. With that daunting responsibility comes angst. I disliked piano. I think, because my mother was so ridiculously talented at it, I had a bit of an inferiority complex. Thus, I didn't respect Colleen for her talents, mostly because I had never heard her play the piano, nor perform any kind of music (had I gone to her church, this would probably have been different) so, my cocky attitude was "what does she know?"

This attitude problem wasn't limited to Colleen. You could ask my other piano teachers: Lois, Marcie, and Mrs. Flatland. They would all concur, and probably say something like "lots of talent, no commitment to rehearsal." They would be right.

So, back to Colleen. In the first part of "Messiah" (number 16) is a soprano recitative: And suddenly there was with the angel which is the third of a series of soprano solos. It was when I first heard Colleen sing this that my respect for her flourished. She was a goddess in my eyes, and her voice was the ambrosia of heaven.

Well, consequently, I have been a long standing fan of "Messiah" and it was such a pleasure to see it performed with so many familiar faces, and an even larger pleasure to hear the soprano recitatives performed by local coloratura soprano Dr. Anne Christopherson. Anne, who completely rocked the stage, was also Nellie Lovett in this past summer's Crimson production of Sweeney Todd, so I have had the distinct privilege to work with her.

Rumor has it, she may be gracing the stage again this upcoming summer as Mademoiselle Cunégonde in the Operetta "Candide." This is just a rumor though... well, at least at this point. If true, however, it means Anne will be wowing the audiences with the fiendishly difficult aria "Glitter and be Gay." In sheer vocal/technical terms, it is among the most ridiculously challenging coloratura soprano arias. If sung as written throughout (alternative phrases are provided at several points in the score), there are four high E-flats (above high C), two staccato and two sustained.

I've heard her sing it. She has absolutely no difficulty. She is ridiculous.

In any case, the competitive one-acts at East Grand Forks have begun - this year we are doing an insane "epic theatre" one-act on nationalism. It's tough as all get out, but I think the kids will pull it off nicely. Speaking of high school - I also got to experience the Christmas Schooner at Central High School this past week. The Christmas Schooner is a musical written by John Reeger with music and lyrics by Julie Shannon which premiered at Bailiwick Repertory Theater in Chicago, and has run successfully for 12 years. The coolest part of this production was the lyricist Julie Shannon came to Grand Forks to see the show, meet the students, do a talk-back with director Job Christenson and sign some CDs. It was a very cool experience.

Since this post is already 2 miles long, I'll close by giving a heads up to some cool and upcoming events. Right now, Brad Bachmeier has work at the Third Street Galley in an exhibit called Embers. I own a couple Bachmeier's and am excited to purchase my third piece of his work. I am big fan - Brad was the Art Fest Featured Artist two summers ago.

Steve Augustin along with Jinae Swenson and Nicole Schempp are on display at the Dakota Harvest Gallery (in the bakery) until the 6th of January.

Currently on display at the North Dakota Museum of Art is "Moment by Moment: Meditations by the Hand".

However, if music is your "reason for the season" Central High School's holiday concert is the 21st, and there is a Phil Vassar concert at the Alerus Center on the 30th.

Of course, there is always ongoing live music at Suite 49, the Blue Moose Bar and Grill, and Sanders 1907, where "Still Fighting It" will be playing the 29th and 30th.

If you haven't driven through, Christmas in the Park goes until the 31st and is only $5/car.

Of course, New Year's Eve is marked in Grand Forks by the First Night Celebration. First Night Greater Grand Forks is a family-oriented, alcohol-free New Year's Eve celebration that showcases visual and performing arts and cultural activities for people of all ages! First Night showcases a variety of regional talent, both well known and obscure. Performances are held in venues throughout downtown Grand Forks and East Grand Forks. Shuttle buses run continuously to all sites throughout the evening. With the purchase of an admission button, a wide variety of entertainment can be enjoyed all evening ending with a dazzling display of fireworks marking the beginning of the First Night of the New Year. You can visit the First Night CulturePulse page here, or visit their official website.

Also, make note. According to CulturePulse, the following restaurants will be serving food Christmas Day: Blue Moose (open bar @ 7 PM with appetizers only); Great American Grill @ Hilton Garden Inn (7 AM to 12 PM); Peatree Restaurant @ Holiday Inn (hours TBD); Royal Fork (hours TBD). For more information, visit Christmas Dinner.

With that, I'm done. Complete. I'm Tired. I'm not a wabbit! I need some west! ...

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

An update, or, How great it feels to see things work out

2006-11-19T12:48:00.000-08:00

It's Sunday. The slammers seem to have abandoned their game. This makes me glad, although I can't say that our neighbors were impressed with James and I last night. They will get over it, much as I got over the slamming.

To Fargo yesterday afternoon... by the time we got there, the parents had arrived and my friend had been not only let in the room, but included - by both the family (although begrudgingly by some) and the Merit Care staff.

I must apologize, since I didn't get the full story yesterday. My friend was not allowed in the room, until the wishes of the family were known - not due to the wishes of the family. While this changes things a bit, since HIPPA forbids the release of health information to non family members, the fact remains that in North Dakota my friend would not have been able to become family with his boyfriend. This is where the tragedy lies.

In any case, enough bantering about the legals... know that our friend is in stable condition and they will know more tomorrow.

Off now to spend the final moments with my friend Ali before she departs back down south. Coffee and good conversation ensue.

Peace::Ben::TeamCulturePulse

Sad Turn of Events, or, Brace Yourself, I'm About to Get Political

2006-11-18T14:29:00.000-08:00

There is slamming of doors. Over and Over. Bang, Boom. It is irritating to me - not only the very sound, but the absence of need for such behavior. People, as selfish beings, care not for the others that are inconvenienced.

The "slammers" are laughing. They think it's quite clever how loudly they can slam their doors... they are having a contest and a good chuckle. They are grating my last nerve. It isn't there fault though.

This was a bad week - all around, and I thought I'd escape it when Friday's bell tolled 5. It amazes me how wrong I can be. The bad stuff was not just personal or professional, but a mix of the two, coupled with terrible events happening to those I care about. I was vilified by a member of the arts community I work for because of her personal bias against me. My nephew was vilified by his kindergarten teacher because he is too shy. My sister and her husband work to make sure this experience doesn't ruin education for him. A friend's longtime family pet died, and her kids found him. How to explain what has happened? Hiding tears and stay strong.

A friend and colleague who I have had the honor of directing was diagnosed with lung cancer, and the outlook is not promising. To California to see a specialist, he tells me. He throws in a joke, with a genuine laugh. We hug. Again, tears, but this time their ownership was mine. Hide them, stay strong, and hope for the best.

A teacher who was one of the single most influential forces in my life, passed away after a terrible battle with cancer just yesterday. Her influence was not only educational, but social as they were close friends of the family. So close to the holidays. Tears, again, joined by those of my family. Pray for peace for the family.

Cancer is a scary word - but for my family, it is a word just like any other. It took my maternal Grandmother. It took my paternal Grandfather. It took a great aunt and a second cousin. It is currently battling my mother, two more aunts, and several extended family members. I hate it. My mother told me today "I believe everyone has cancer, some people just die from other causes before they find out."

This was my week. I had hoped to find relief in the calm of an empty Saturday. I've got a friend coming from afar for a visit this evening. I clean my laundry room too keep busy.

A phone call today is the final straw. A friend, new to our social circle, had a hear attack last night. He was in his low 30's, and very healthy... in great shape. There may have been other circumstances leading to this tragic event, but their place is not here.

This man found his way into our social circle when he began to date a friend of mine, who also happens to be male. It was easy to accept him - he was kind, caring, and enjoyable. They were a gay couple trying to make love work in the conservative area of Grand Forks.

As it stands right now, my friend is not allowed in to the hospital room to see his boyfriend, due to the wishes of his parents. He, of course, has no legal rights, nor will he ever, as long as the current state of things is allowed to prevail. Fear and bigotry, hatred and cowardice have won out, and we create a second class citizenship. I am going down see my friend because someone has to. He's just sitting in Fargo, with no information, no rights, and a lot of fear. Congratulations America.

But what do we do? We can't be political - or we face polarizing ourselves. We can't make a scene - we have to remain neutral. Hoping we can bring some peace to the situation, a trip to Fargo is impending.

Mix all the tears together: tears of tragedy, tears of loss, tears of hatred, tears of fear. Blend them all and hope for a better day.

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

Tis the Season, or, You're of no use where you're not.

2006-11-13T16:32:00.000-08:00

It's 6:25. I'm still in my office. It's dark out, so I had to actually turn on my fluorescent lights. I detest fluorescent lighting. I have this theory that it sucks out your soul, creativity and will to live. And people say I'm overdramatic.

So, if the fluorescent lighting doesn't make things saucy enough, my iTunes just got to "lonely Goatherd" from the sound of music. Seriously. Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo.

Just when the song seems to have gone on forever, the iTunes transition magic occurs, seamlessly, and I'm now at Gwen Stafani's "Wind It Up," which, as it were, samples "Lonely Goatherd." This is not intentional placement - it was a random occurrence that led to a seamless transition. This is one of life's wonderful moments. Truly.

It has been well over a month since I've posted, and I'm going to own that. I have several drafts of blogs in the queue, but never got around to publishing them. These things happen.

Time, though a social construct, guides our lives. I was thinking 'bout the concepts of time and money the other day. I changed my checking account to some other version of a checking account that gains interest and has no ATM fees. I have no idea what it was, but the no ATM fee excited me, so the transition occurred. It occurred to me that my money was not sitting in a vault somewhere. There was a computer that controls my money with a string of 0s and 1s. This disturbs me - since physical money or the system on which it is based has no reality. It's all a social construct.

Time is the same way. We move about our days in strings of meetings, agendas, to do lists, and deadlines. This is much more an American philosophy - at least it wasn't present when I lived and worked in England. The only time construct that existed there was tea at 3 (which never included tea, but rather beer from the White Horse Pub outside the VEI building where I worked) and family. Holiday from June - August. Weekends on the mainland. Time was a way of living life.

Here, time takes away life, if we allow it. By the way, right now, "This is Halloween" from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" is playing. How very eclectic.

I want to get into why things are so busy. In addition to the typical MSP stuff. There are some exciting, upcoming things which you will be among the first to be privy.

First, on a CulturePulse note. CulturePulse has been in conversations with the ND Council on the Arts to expand statewide. A state-wide culturepulse would be an amazing advancement for the state's arts and culture presenters as well as artists. I will get into the specifics at another time, but know this is a very exciting future.

Also, there are three arts organizations who are looking to move to the next level, and are planning a "merger" of sorts. I can't disclose the three arts organizations yet, but this concept would create the 2nd largest arts organization in the community, both in terms of staffing and budget. I believe they would be the largest presenting organization in the state, in terms of programming. This is one of my personal projects, and I'm uber excited about it. I'll provide details here as the happen - but this will really put a fire under these organizations.

Lastly, and this is far too early to give any details, but the concept of a community collaborative arts center has taken leaps forward, and look for more on that to come in 2007.

These three projects dominate all of my nonwork spare time, and leave room for little else.

I went back to Iowa last weekend for an alumni board meeting at my alma mater Waldorf. In a very exciting turn of events, somehow managed to end up president of the board. I now have the honor of speaking at graduation commencement, so it's a good thing I kept my cap, gown and hood. While driving back, I decided to stop in Iowa and visit my friend Chase, who I just recently met at Waldorf Homecoming. I was very glad I did. Though I was with someone I barely knew, It was amazing alone time for me. It was reflection time. It was a time to discuss anything, or nothing.

It was one of those amazing, awe inspiring moments that seemed like a half hour, but was really 5. Seriously. We met for coffee at 5:30, and finally got out of the coffee shop at 10:30. After that, I was able to sleep again.

Note: prior to that, I'd had this annoying insomnia for almost a month - going on only 2-3 hours of sleep a night. Hated it.

One of the most amazing things to come out of the conversation was very much a "grass is greener" situation. Since both of us have traveled abroad extensively in our college days, we were bantering about what it meant for us to be in Grand Forks and Sioux Falls, respectively. We were talking about lives of service. We were talking about making a difference. The question came up, well, couldn't we make a difference no matter where we are?

Chase, gave response in the form of a quote. "You are of no use where you're not."

Think about that. Ponder it. See if it causes a transformation.

Then get out there and make a difference.

Idealism, Smidealism, or, Maybe it's the Weather

2006-10-03T12:52:00.000-07:00

I am an idealistic person. Sometimes it is a positive. Sometimes it is a negative.

I think about these things when I ponder decisions... am I just making a rash idealistic decision? Have I thought this through?

As is the blessing with human nature, however, we are multi-faceted. Today, I am a dualistic person. Today I am miserable.

When most people say they are miserable it translates to very unhappy; full of misery. That is not what I mean. I mean that I am miserable to be around today.

I think everyone has those days where they can barely stand themselves. Much like an infant throwing a tantrum for reasons they don't even know, I am sauntering through my day with a furrowed brow for no apparent reason.

My German heritage tells me to blame it on the weather. Gloomy days cause these things, my Grandmother would say. Then, most likely, she would shove fattening German foods towards me, because nothing feeds the soul like some unhealthy decisions. I'm serious on this - gloom is dissuaded by kuchen and the like. If you don't believe me, try it some times.

Since there is no kuchen to be found in my vicinity, I am drinking a coke. I don't drink soda, typically, so this is unique to me (at least straight soda... toss some Morgan in there and we're in business). It tastes like acid on my tongue, so naturally, I love it.

I wonder about days like today. How can typically high energy people with passion for life fall in to days where everything infuriates them? It started at my lunch meeting when I couldn't get the WiFi to work in the restaurant. Don't advertise it if it is not going to work. I was irritated about parking. I was irritated at the students who were walking on the street instead of the sidewalk. I was irritated at my car for being low on gas. I was irritated at my own irritation.

I was my own walking contradiction. It's delicious, actually.

Of course, I am traveling this course with a smile on my face so no one will suspect that I, too, have my "Bea Arthur" days. It's like being in a play, only one where no one will pay the $5 to see it. Of course, that irritates me as well.

I laugh as I type this. My cynical humor has amused me. The caffeine has given me a bit of a rush. Things are looking up.

Never mind. It just started to rain.

lol. Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

Yard Signs, or, Is the Election Over Yet?

2006-09-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

The time has come again - the midterm elections are creeping upon us. Signs are adorning yards, ads are on the air. The typical politics of politicking [sic] is everywhere you look. Who should we elect? Does it matter?

Especially in local politics where the even the liberals are conservative, does anything really change our landscape?

Let it be known before hand, that while I certainly have a political orientation, culturepulse.org does not. Our agenda here is simply for the arts. That being said, I will try my hardest to not drip my own persuasion all over this post. Since I will most likely fail, let me give a pre-enmptive whoops.

I want to talk about the arts and politics. Many do not know, and I realize this is contentious, that the arts are subsidized on a federal and local level. The National Endowment for the Arts receives its funding from the national legislature, and the North Dakota Council on the arts receives it statewide.

It is important, then, that supporters of the arts support candidates who support the arts. Make sense, right?

Let's talk about about the National Endowment for the Arts. The purpose of this overly-criticized organization is to support public access to the arts. Right now, advocates are urging Congress to support a budget of $170 million for the NEA in the FY07 Interior Appropriations bill to increase funding for the creation, preservation, and presentation of the arts in America through the NEA’s core programs—Access to Artistic Excellence, Challenge America: Reaching Every Community, Federal/State Partnerships, and Learning in the Arts.

[link to NEA talking points and informational statistics]

I'll let you know, as a point of reference, that the Mapplethorpe exhibits are a small, small minority of what is actually funded out there. For instance - my agency, the Marketing Services Partnership, which brings you culturepulse.org, is the recipient of a Challenge America Grant.

As it stands right now, the NEA funding is in a bit of hold-up. [From ArtsUSA] As expected, it appears that Congress will put off appropriations legislation and pass a continuing resolution through November, when they will return for a lame-duck session to finish the appropriations process. Congress is also expected to wrap-up numerous appropriations bills—including those that fund the NEA—into one large "omnibus" bill, which may not pass until after the November elections.

Apparently, and I've only heard this through the grapevine, our own Sen. Byron Dorgan is one of the committee members that is not interested in funding an increase. Dorgan is the ranking member of the Interior and Related Agencies Appropriations Subcommittee, which is reviewing the NEA's appropriation. On the other side of the aisle, (and the river) Sen. Norm Coleman (R-MN) has circulated a "Dear Colleague" letter to his Senate colleagues, asking their support for an increase of five to 10 million dollars for FY 2007.

Politicking aside, Dorgan is typically a supporter of the arts. As it stands right now, Dorgan and Conrad (who is up for election) have a 100% voting record with Americans for the Arts in terms of supporting arts. Rep. Pomeroy comes in close, only voting "against the arts" on three bills, one of which would have increased the NEA funding. We can't know his reasons for those votes, however. We must assume he is a supporter of the arts, since he voted positively in 22 cases.

While there are a ton of reasons the arts are important, it is most important that people get out and vote. Find out what is important to your candidates, do not just vote on party lines. This goes local all the way to the top. In the 2004 election, much to do was occurring in my parents house when we would all get together. My parents took a different route in voting than my sister and I. Based solely on concepts rather than issues. I bet if you dug up my parents voting records, they have voted one way their entire lives (for the most part... ND is a unique state, in that we are RED, but send the BLUE to DC). My voting record is spotty at best. I doubt that either party really wants me - I just simply can't be trusted.

Those that know me would assume my blood flowed blue, but in reality, would be shocked to learn I worked on a republican presidential campaign in the lead up to 2000.

Granted as I get older, it is easier to formulate personal dogma and vote according to that, and typically one party will personally triumph over the other.

That being said, North Dakotans are unique in the sense that we don't have to register. We don't really have to chose party affiliation.

As the election draws near, I urge people to focus on issues of importance - education, social welfare, economics, the conflict in Iraq, national policy and the safety of our way of life, both in terms of national security and in terms of personal liberty. Many of these topics were noticeably lacking in the last election. Republicans launched what appeared to be a tactic of scaring and the Democrats responded in-kind. Both parties failed in the last election. Both. Bi-partisan politics and the electoral system work in some situations, but I would be willing to bet that mainstream America could find a candidate in the last election that wasn't polarized on one side of the aisle or the other. In the same way, we continue to have a polarized country.

What issues are dominating the headlines? Gay marriage, abortion, social morality and Iraq. Where are the stories about the social welfare of our country? Where are the stories about the local issues? Where are the stories about the failure that is our public education system? Where are the stories about our loss of industry and jobs? Those are all again missing. The national media fuel the polarization. It's a vicious cycle.

Politics are a personal journey. Find a candidate, regardless of party affiliation, and judge them on the merits of their issues, not what animal mascot adorns their letterhead.

What does it mean, anyway? My friend Scott (who is on the opposite side of the political spectrum than I) have long discussions about how republicans are the new democrats and democrats are the new republicans. Politics have become so cyclical that the labels mean nothing anymore.

It reminds me of Barry Goldwater, the favorite "old conservative". Goldwater is often considered the father of the modern conservative movement — he was a libertarian republican who despised big government.

However, Goldwater on many occasions has blasted his own party as it moved towards the policy of morality. As early as a Sept. 15, 1981, Senate speech, Goldwater noted that Jerry Falwell's Moral Majority, anti-abortion groups and other religious right groups were sometimes referred to in the press as the "New Right" and the "New Conservatism." Responded Goldwater, "Well, I've spent quite a number of years carrying the flag of the 'Old Conservatism.' And I can say with conviction that the religious issues of these groups have little or nothing to do with conservative or liberal politics. The uncompromising position of these groups is a divisive element that could tear apart the very spirit of our representative system, if they gain sufficient strength."

Now, I'm not making any comment on Barry Goldwater as a person or as a congressman. I'm simply throwing forward one of the republican old guard, considered the quinessential conservative messiah by many, who was a supporter of a women's right to chose and gay unions.

So, where is the label in that?

Let's drop the labels and vote for representation that is logical and supportive of our growth as a community, as a nation, and as a people.

Get out the vote. Or else.

What's that Noise, or, Listening to the Call in the Conversations and Circumstances of Daily Life.

2006-09-25T22:45:00.000-07:00

Long title, I know. Perhaps a bit wordy. Perhaps a bit theo-babble... but there it is.

Outside the realm of politics and religion, you don't hear about "the call" very often, but it is something that exists in our very lives and the fabric of who we are.

The call can be a variety of things. Some people consider it a burden on their hearts, or an act of consciousness. Some people consider it the inescapable desire to serve (think nonprofits here, or people that give philanthropically). Some people consider the burden to be the cosmic balance where things fall right in to place - whether its coincidence or not.

In many ways, my decision to move to Grand Forks was the basis of a call. From the day I read the job posting in the Herald, I lost the ability to sleep... I knew I must make this job mine at all cost. Even if that cost was working in food service at Moorhead State for 6 weeks.

As we think about the state of the arts and their play on the community; as we listen to the needs of the community that we have the capability to serve, I ask you to consider your personal call in the conversations and circumstances of daily life.

How much of what goes on around us can we impact? How much of our talents go to waste because we fail to put them into practice. I've blogged about James's philosophy of living each day to do something extraordinary. I'm sure I've mentioned my desire to positively impact the lives of those around me. This weekend, I met a wonderful man named Chase who's vision is to provide voices to the voiceless. In fact, the exact mission statement is: Giving a voice to those silenced by society. Wanting to expose worldly injustice fuels this driving desire. Read about, learn from and be inspired by the people I meet, and the experiences I am having."

After recovering from the fact that this individual is not a unicorn, I stood in humble reverence when I met him, having known how he's put this ideology into practice.

When something like that happens, those random, almost cosmic meetings, you know there is greater purpose. If we don't watch out, they can slip us by, unless we watch for our call in the conversations and circumstances of daily life.

What are your passions? What drives you? Where do you find your joy? Is it in your job? Is it your ability to give? Is it in the knowledge that you are financially stable?

In most major religions, when they are not trying to destroy the world and each other, a tenant of happiness is service. Living a life of service to others is a way to answer the calls that we encounter daily, and respond.

James constantly climbs his soap box and rattles about people refusing to perceive what's going on around them. I don't mean in a Miss Cleo (who just came out as a lesbian) faux-precog fashion... I mean, people tend to have a complete lack of empathy for their brothers and sisters.

Believing in the confines of social construct, he believes that most people spend life unhappy, because they have not lived to their full potential, and will take security over the joy of answering an employment call that reflects the circumstances of daily life.

The question itself is profound. The answers, however personal, will blow your mind.

I encourage you to listen for that call, and get involved. Life is best when we work together for the common good.

Listen to the calling the conversations and circumstances of daily life. Can you hear it?

Peace::Ben::Team Culture Pulse

All Hail to Thee Oh..., or, What Puts the Great in Great

2006-09-24T19:36:00.001-07:00

I'm beat. Bushed. Kaput. In the words of Lilly Von Shtup, "I'm not a wabbit."

A long drive today, with a lot of time to ponder. I remember how much I loved that drive from my days at Waldorf. It's amazing what you can process in 9 hours on the road.

What a weekend (I hope you went to arts events)... lots of official things to do, from the dedication of Waldorf's new 6th Street Entrance to banquets, to tailgating and, of course, the "social engagements."

Waldorf's growth is very evident to me, because I come with perspective. I was at Waldorf during a tenuous period, and I notice the changes, both in the bricks and the brains behind the growth. I can't imagine what those classes that celebrated 50 year reunions felt about growth, changes and Waldorf's new missions of service. It must have been overwhelming. It's amazing what a point of reference and a bit of perspective give you.

Though it may sound weird, I stayed with two of my professors (they're married). These professors have become so much more - they are amazing people. They are just one of the reasons that Waldorf is such an amazing place, and holds such a special place in my heart. A flood of emotion accompanies any trip back, and I become overjoyed. I remember thinking, as I was driving the last 10 miles into Forest City on Friday night, even the pig s%it smells good...

It was good to be back. I got to see great friends (Joy, who I haven't seen since her wedding... Jeff, who I haven't seen since my graduation... and Jamie (who apparently now goes by Jim, which I refuse to accept) who I haven't seen in several months). It was great to see them, especially in our old haunt. I even made met new people, one of whom I'm looking forward to getting to know better... It was a good trip. It was a meaningful trip.

This morning, at our homecoming worship service (Waldorf is a Lutheran School), the pastor delivered a sermon that asked "What makes a Great college Great?"

The new president of Waldorf (Dick Hanson) is a sociologist by trade, and has a certain disdain for the word great. According to him, over the years, the word great has lost its meaning and has become a word void of any specific purpose. How often do we say "Great" and really not mean it?

As the pastor was discussing what makes a great college great, my mind focused on the many applications of this particular question, and I thought to myself "What makes a great arts organization great?"

Perhaps a great arts organization is great when it achieves a certain financial status. Those organizations that have budgets exceeding $200,000/year. In Grand Forks, that amount of financial positioning is unique, so surly those organizations are "great."

Perhaps an arts organization becomes great when it reaches a certain point of critical acclaim. Once the community recognizes the importance of the organization to the cities welfare, greatness is achieved.

Perhaps an arts organization reaches greatness once they exist for a certain time frame. Existence for several decades certainly achieve "greatness."

If you informally define "great," it is used to express enthusiasm, approval, or agreement. If we look further, beyond the informality that has come to plague our language, it defines as remarkable or out of the ordinary in degree or magnitude or effect. So, what is it, intrinsically, that causes an arts group to fill that descriptor. What is it that makes not only an arts organization "great" but defines a "great arts community."

Many of our arts organizations, by their age and nature, seem fledgling, but really have achieved many things that are "great." When I first moved here, I noticed immediately the amount of emphasis that area arts organizations placed on education. Even our pre-professional and professional organizations focus a portion of their efforts on youth education. The mission of our organizations reach beyond the ordinary scope of "art for arts sake" and really strive to bring art to the masses, starting with people at a young age. From baby ballet to the youth symphony, these organizations look to create artists rather than provide entertainment. At the same time, these groups are creating their own audience by infusing arts into community early on.

Many of our arts organizations are created for community access. Our organizations and their events, whether perceived or not, are not cliquey or closed. They embrace all. From the high-brow genre of symphony to community theatre, the organizations are open to all interested in participating. Granted, many are audition based, but the door is open to all.

Many of our arts organizations perform challenging programming, and are looking to expand their scope to challenge the audience in Grand Forks. Through we, by national statistics, are a small community, we perform beyond that level.

Do these things make us great? Are these things extraordinary? Perhaps, but these are not what makes our community great. These are things on the tip of my mind. Over the next week or so, I plan on asking the arts groups, and community members this same question. What makes arts organizations great, and specifically, what makes our arts community great? What are these strengths that we can capitalize upon, and what are the areas where we need to work harder?

These are the questions we need to ask. Moving forward, and moving up takes perspective. We must have a point of reference, and a benchmark. History is worthless if it teaches us nothing, and we as a community are nothing if we don't know what makes us great. If we are unable to laud ourselves and the work we do, people will better come to know us. We do a lot of things well, and many organizations are positioning themselves to be even better in the coming year. It's time to let the world know, it is time to preach what we practice.

9 hours worth of plans and ideas. A refreshing weekend. New friends. New perspective. It's refreshing and I can't wait to get started.

We begin.

Peace::Ben::TeamCulturePulse

Weekend Drizzle, or, the Itsy Bitsy Spider Went Down to Iowa

2006-09-22T07:54:00.000-07:00

I like the rain. I really do. It ushers me back to a better time, back on the farm, with open skies and a hint of manure in the air.

Among the list of things that would probably surprise people, I grew up on a farm. We moved in to town in 1988 when I was in the 6th grade, having built a home in a community of under 1000. So, in reality, being a town boy meant nothing more than we had to travel further to feed the cattle.

I started to get into the arts as a young child... I had my first real acting gig in a centennial show (also the late 80s) where I said "I think I hear it coming" in reference to the train that ultimately caused the community of Hoskins, North Dakota to pick up and move three miles to the east to coincide with the coming of the Burlington Northern Trains (the same trains that I'd like to move three miles away from me today). Later on in that same production, I somehow came out of a huge glittery box as a child of the future (wearing an awful lot of white) to a rousing rendition of "Celebrate" as sung by our local centennial choir.

Now, when people talk about their home town centennials, they are typically spouting about some tragic "Waiting for Guffman"-esque event where people really overdo their own tragedy. Not Ashley. It was a remarkable event, and almost the entire town was involved. The production was well over two hours long, with a cast of around a hundred and a choir of more. Some of the music required two pianists. The entire show was a tintypes musical, and the backdrop was a multimedia presentation (keep in mind, this was in 87, so it was done with a framed scrim and a slide projector). We converted our high school proscenium stage into a thrust that jutted 30% into our gym. We hired a professional directing staff. The lead was an actor who had Ashley roots (and, as it were, was the Asst. Dean of Students who would recruit me to attend Waldorf College almost 10 years later).

In fact, it was so good, that our choir was selected to represent the state of ND one year later in a touring show for the ND Centennial. This was my second acting gig. I played Flicky the Flickertail, to critical success, I may add. In fact, in one scene, where I'm pulling a tumbleweed, I almost brought a tear to my own eyes.

Ah, the 80's. Bad hair, bad clothes, terrible music and tragedy afoot. But these were the golden years of my youth. Now back to the rain.

When you live on a farm, you almost feel part of nature. I think this comes from the fact that it surrounds you, both the good and the bad. I loved living on the farm - there were vast acres of land to explore, each with its own adventure. There were rock piles to climb and claim as your castle. There were forests to explore, forts to build, and sticks to forge into weapons. There were bales to climb, and buildings to scale. You could truly remove yourself from the world, and disappear in to your own, invented, world. I believe this phenomenon is why so many "farm boys and girls" turn out to be authors, poets, etc. Escape-ism comes naturally, and the imagination runs away from you at times.

That being said, we were connected to the world. We had a dish. We were "in town" every day. My mother was a teacher (and my father went back to that profession when we scaled back the farming in 1997) and so we were always on the go. My parents were unique in many ways. My father, your typical alpha-male farmer with a good heart and a great laugh, who listened to the Statler Brothers and Kenny Rogers on 8-track (I grew up on "Flowers on the Wall" and "The Gambler," and both songs are among the tunes someone now listens to on my iPod). My father, however, had a huge thing for Elton John songs and Queen. In fact, Queen was his first CD, and Elton's greatest hits was his second, and I don't think he's purchased one since.

My mother, on the other hand, had vinyls of Jesus Christ Superstar and was more hip to music than I. I remember driving to elementary school, and my mother jamming out to Alice Cooper's "Poison" and "When I See you Smile." This was when they were all the rage, not when they became tragic throwback. If nothing else, my mother is hip to the world, and since I'm not a huge fan of top 40, keeps me connected to what the kids are listening too. Sometimes I forget I'm still in my 20s.

My grandparents were of the big band era, and it as there I got introduced to the polka, the waltz and the wonder of "dancing music."

What more could a blooming artist want? Nothing. This is what I think of when it rains.

Now, if it were snowing - I'd be thrilling you with a diatribe about heat vents, crocheted blankets, ice cream and saltine crackers. But that's for another time.

James and I were talking last night (en route to prank a friend's car while he was at the movies) about the human brain's inability to be reflective on the now. He and I both live in the past. We reflect on how good it was and hope that in 10 years, we look back on our present and feel the same way. That's not to say life sucks right now, quite the contrary, but I don't think about it in term of qualifying. I just live it.

I often wonder if everyone lives in the past, because they've got both historical perception and a point of reference, or if just creative types live in the past, because it is from those experiences that we draw our inspiration.

This week has been a reflective one because of so many things. The weather... the smell of fall... the rain... It reminds me of football. It reminds me of the first day of school. It reminds me of one of my favorite pre semester rituals - the new backpack and trapper keeper arrangement evening. Oh God - the fun. The sorting. In fact, I was so nostalgic this year, I went out and purchased a new laptop bag, and like a kid in a candy store, converted from old to new with a smile on my face.

Our past is filled with rituals - rites of passage. From the first time we fell off our bike, to the first time our sister's left us on a swing set being attacked by a rabid skunk. It is these rituals that build our historical perspective. It gives us points of reference to analyze our present and our current state of being.

Another ritual approaches. In two hours I pack my car and head to Iowa (sans iPod) for my college homecoming. It's a weird place, and 10 miles out, I always start to feel nauseous. There are places I can't go on campus (the tunnels beneath the theatre) alone because I am overcome with emotion. In fact, my friend Emilie has only been down there once. In silence, she walked... looked at the names, no... the legacy scrawled on the walls, and left. She's never been back.

I heard through the grapevine that the new faculty at Waldorf painted over the legacy wall. Years and years of theatre students leaving their mark and their wisdom for the future to come... years and years of historical perspective gone. Covered.

[update: I went to the tunnels this weekend, and though they are painted, the legacy was left unscathed... it meant even more to me than before to realize it wasn't taken from us... I know, oh, how dramatic... shut up - it was the theatre, we're allowed. lol.]

So, think about what makes us human. What makes us challenge ourselves to push forward and better ourselves. What gives us perspective.

One of the great things about art, is that is what it was designed for. Theatre is the now - taking you away for awhile and giving you a glimpse of topics and concepts. Visual art draws you in. Music surrounds you. Dance entrances you...

This weekend, while it is raining, I challenge you to see something in our arts community, and then actually process it. Sit down with a nice glass of wine after words and really talk with your partner or guest about what you felt, where you were inside your head, and what you take from the play. Share here, in the comment section, if you feel so willing.

Dinner with Friends is in its second week at the Fire Hall, and I haven't seen it, so I can't give you a "go or no go". But, I still say, attend, and check it out. Rebecca Sefcovic Uglem, Steve Augustin, and Allison Peterson all have work on display around town. The moving exhibition Vanished: German American Internment 1941-1948 is on display on the corner of University and Harvard Avenues.

The University of North Dakota Observatory is hosting Star Parties at dusk this evening.

Tomorrow, we've got Farmer's Market and a Mini-Silent Auction: Angela Sweic, Prairie Portraits at the World's Smallest Gallery in Urban Stampede. East Grand Forks Campbell Library has a River Forks Watercolor Society Exhibition. On Sunday, Introductions: Artists Self Portraits opens at the North Dakota Museum of Art.

There is a lot going on this weekend. So, get off your toosh and experience it. Enjoy what we have to offer, and think of me driving to Iowa.

Be reflective. Enjoy the now. Take some time to listen to the rain drops pounding your rooftop and remember. It's a good thing.

Peace::Ben::TeamCulturePulse

I Felt Metropolitan, or, Jammin on Third Street

2006-09-21T10:53:00.000-07:00

Real quickly... a co-worker and I met at Dakota Harvest Bakery today for lunch.

The first time I went, I was underimpressed. They had no vegetarian option. I don't know why this irritates me, but it did, and I vowed to never go again. Apparently they cought me on a rough day. I, of course, went back. They now do a lovely job with the vegetarian fare and have really come in to their own.

So, if you haven't gone, it's a must. Today was a spicy corn chowder day, and that was enough to reverse the damage of the insurance adjuster calling at 7am this morning.

But, this has nothing to do with my story. It is important, however, because otherwise the story would be one sentence long.

My excitment came from a guitar player set up outside Scott's Music on Third. With guitar case out, and a couple people listening, he was playing music. On the street. This is the first time I've seen this during the daytime. Since I work on campus, I am not downtown a lot during the day, but it made me smile none the less. Plus, my cell phone just arrived via fed ex. Literally this moment. It'll be a good day.

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse.

Faux Progressive Awakening, or, Times is Hard, Sir... Times is Hard

2006-09-20T07:34:00.000-07:00

So, for those that don't know me, I'm a vegetarian. Long story about why, and it doesn't matter. I don't have any sort of affinity towards our bovine or pork friends... my car seats are leather, and my couch is suede. I am not a member of PETA, though I support their ability to do what they do (though they may be a smidge radical). I grew up on a dairy and beef farm (with a few pigs on the side). I just have a huge veggie fetish. It's true, and I fly my veggie pride flag high.

In anycase, as a result, I take vitamins to make sure I'm getting all my daily whatevers. The place I order from threw in a free progressive awakening CD. Something quite scientific, in fact, or so the CD may lead me to believe.

Apparently based on octavinal scales and the Fibonacci number sequence, an initial melodic tone is supposed to key your brain to slowly draw itself out of REM sleep, and over the next 6-8 minutes the tone and octavinal intervals should awaken you progressively, versus jarring you out of sleep.

Now I am used to the jarring. Whether it be the demon spawn that is the Burlington northern conductors, or my obnoxious alarm clock, it's an all out psychological battle every time I try to wake up. So, I thought, what the hell, I'll give it a try.

Yesterday, my first attempt at Progressive Awakening, was a no go. For some reason, my brain had me up by 7. Never made it to the alarm. Strike One.

I should side note here: There are six tracks you can chose from. One in the key of C, one in the key of G, one in the key of E flt, one that has "rock underscoring" and than one called "Children's Sunrise". Allow me to spout a bit about Children's Sunrise. Underscored with what appears to be carnival and playground noises, the track features intermittent, octavinal children's laughs. If this doesn't describe it enough, picture the first Freddy Kruger, or any Steven King movie. Creepy is not even on the short list of adjectives.

So this morning, the initial melody from track one hits. I wake up immediately and throw a pillow at the CD Player. I fall back asleep. This continues until at some point, having shifted back into some sort of delta or REM sleep, I began to dream. Apparently, the CD continues on after track one is complete, and, as you can probably guess, my delta sleep coincided with the playing of track six. Welcome to Children's Sunrise. Only in this version, there was indeed a pennywise the clown, and very little laughter. Strike Two.

I will give it another go tomorrow. I believe in truly testing things out before I ship them away from me. In the meantime, pass me a bottle of ibeprofun and a glass of scotch. It's time to begin my day.

Peace::Ben::Team Culture Pulse

Glass Art, or, Don't Park on the Street

2006-09-17T14:20:00.000-07:00

Friday began like any other day. I awoke thinking I was really glad it was Friday, then immediately chastised myself for being that common. Of course, everyone is glad when it's Friday. That's why there is that ridiculously annoying TGIF and the associated restaurant and ABC family lineup.

Little known fact, the phrase was first popularized by the 1978 movie starring Donna Summer, Thank God It's Friday. The phrase has also become common for advertising and promotional materials. On college campuses beginning in the 1970s, the phrase became associated with Friday afternoon beer parties, usually held outdoors. I'll get to that tie in momentarily. The only time I've not been enraged by it's use was in the movie Dragnet when Pep Streebeck says the line "Thank God, it's Friday!" I thought it was fun. I digress.

So, after the rage subsided, I did the normal morning routine of shower, breakfast, banter about life and such with James and the subsequent niceties. Wandering to my closet, I realize I was pret-near out of clean clothes, and the only dress shirt I had left was chartreuse, so donning that bit of spring cheer, I wandered to my car.

The evening before, James and my friend Scottie and I made feeble attempts to upgrade my Verizon cell phone. I have been fighting with Verizon for some time now since I am not eligible for an upgrade until February, but my phone is such a certifiable piece of crap that many of its features no longer work. And by features, I mean the 9 key and the ability to talk on it for longer than 2 minutes without it shutting off.

Keep in mind I have been with Verizon since the mid-90's when my 1989 Red Pontiac Grand Prix (complete with red hubcaps) had a car/bag phone that made me look super cool, ala Zach Morris. My frustration lies in the fact that any new Joe off the street can sign up for two years, and get a new phone, but I, the ever faithful client, can not.

After bitching, and finally threatening to break my contract and visit the nice folks at Altell, I was alerted that I did, in fact, qualify for the "Early Upgrade Program" which is Verizon's completely invented "appease angry customers" faux-program. I knew of its existence because I've had friends use it, and I may or may not have used it to procure the aforementioned piece of crap I am currently using.

So armed with my e-mail from Guillermo at Verizon Customer Service, I went on the mad hunt for a new phone, only to learn that I must order my "Early Upgrade" over the phone, or at a corporate store. Instead of anger, we went to Panda Buffet and made poor choices.

Arriving home, I parked my car on third street across from the county parking ramp. I've never parked here before, but figured what the hell, and went inside.

Fastforward now to Friday morning.

Upon approaching my car, I felt something may be askew. Call it a premonition, or maybe it was the fact that there was glass laying next to my car and my window was busted in. I surveyed... missing iPod. Now I'm just pissed. Is an iPod really worth that much?

I called the police, who informed me that there was nothing I could do, and hoped that I'd learned my lesson about leaving items of value in cars. I, of course, have. The officer gave me a complaint number and wished me luck in finding my stolen "I-Pon" but cautioned me that I'd probably never see it again, and I should prepare to buy a new one.

My next step is to James' scooby-inspired celebrity and a jaunt to my office. I know Apple has a strict policy about iPods. They use the serial number to track how many computers the media player has attached itself too, and of course, limit that usage. They do this to avoid people sharing media and thus allowing people free music. It stands to reason, then, that they could tell me the ip address of the computer my iPod was to connected too, and ergo, the identity. It seemed to me this would make sense to them, by protecting not only their clients but also the fact that I had around 3,000 songs on my iPod, which someone now has for free (I sure hope they like showtunes). I was wrong. Apple refuses to track stolen iPods. They told me "Buy a new one, and thank you for chosing Apple." At this point, I figured the threat to switch to Altell would not impact them as it did Verizon, so my battle was lost.

The light at the end of this tunnel is that my renter's insurance will cover the iPod. The window will not be reported to insurance since the cost is less than my deductible, but thanks to the good folk at Modern Auto Body (my auto body shop of choice in the Grand Cities - this is the 2nd time my car has visited them in about 6 months) we are keeping that cost ultra-low. Throw in an oil change (and the free vacuum that comes along) from Paul and Jay at Odin's Belmont (who didn't give me any shit about the glass they had to vacuum, but chewed my ass because my oil looked like molasses), and my day was looking up.

To celebrate my good fortune, James and I decided to partake in the ambrosia of depressed people, and were in the bar by about 2:30pm. Things did not go well beyond that point. Of course, I had a good time.

However, at one point in the evening my brain forgot to tell my left leg that my right one was moving and I now have an ice pack on my knee and a bottle of ibuprofen (fortunately, I had an ice pack already brewin' in the freezer). I may have had to be carried home, but dammit, all was well with the world.

My new iPod will be here in a week. My car will be out of the shop Monday afternoon. Sean at Verizon hooked me up with my new cellphone which will be here Tuesday. The fantastic folks at Modern let me store my car inside with them over the weekend since I don't have a garage. My hangover wasn't that severe, and all in all, life is good.

For a lasting upside to this whole dramatic situation, we've saved the shattered remains of what used to be my window. They will be turned into art as a lasting reminder to never, ever, park on the streets of Grand Forks.

Pondering Friday, or, This Ice Pack is Cold

2006-09-08T21:15:00.000-07:00

So, I just wrote a terribly long blog, and my computer apparently decided it wasn't good enough, so it sent it to that cyber-netherworld in the sky.

I'll attempt to re-cap. But, know that I am immensely irritated.

My apologies for my failure to keep this blog up-to-date have become daunting. It seems to me it would be easier to just update the damned thing than answer to people every time I enter a coffee shop or a Crimson rehearsal. Well, we all have our cross to bear.

Again, it's not a lack of love that precludes me from my cyber-duty... it's the sheer exhaustion, the crumpling into my bed at the end of a long day... the bed, which as of 4:00 today has been adorned with a feather-bed top... guess who's excited? It's been a busy time in the local arts, and a busier time in our downtown mecca... I'll recap in a bit.

For the first time since jr. high football (I don't want to hear about it), I visited a chiropracter this week. The tragedy of the entire experience is that I had no cause or reason for the three rotated vertebrae that plagued my very existence. Be sure that I am the worlds largest pain-pansy... and that I made every one around miserable, just to share in my glory. When asked what I was doing at the time I noticed the injury (or the hours leading up to it) I really did want to conjure a lie, some grand escapade that would immortalize me in the mind of this man with the magic fingers. My A game was not on, however, and I was forced to tell the truth. I was walking to the bathroom to take a shower. Unless, of course, the fact that I was visiting my parents made my vertebrae do the twist, but I highly doubt that.

Now, I search for answers to the anomaly in my back. Really I do. I had been up for several hours... watched a bit of TV with my mother, gone for a bike ride with my nephew (who was ever-so excited about the new kickstand Uncle Ben just got him), and played some Lego's with my niece (who will either be a WWE wrestler, or an architect... or ride a Harley - it's very much up in the air at this point, but she's cute and she's two, so we allow it). Now, the fact that said bike ride and Lego excursion is the most physical activity I've gotten in awhile aside, I was playing it pretty safe.

Be sure there was ample amounts of mockery from all who found out. To borrow a phrase from the grand dame of tragedy, Jerri Blank: G'Times! Mmmmph.

Time is relative here in Grand Forks... while the city seems to move at a slower pace, life is a flutter...

Strike that. I don't want to be remembered as the guy who dropped "a flutter." Oh well.

The 3rd Street Galley's art auction has come and gone, and by virtue of the wine, I thought I had more money than I do. If I look to my left, I can admire the Memo "Thinker" sculpture that is now a part of my permanent collection. Granted, I had to wrestle some lady, and take out BG in the final moments of bidding, but dammit, I won, and that is all that mattered.

Seasons are taking off here, and most arts groups launch their new offerings this month. Downtown is packed as well, as fall draws close. (Okay, really, who am I with this pretentious writing style?)

It's nice to see people downtown - and varying scenes too. The 2nd Annual Rock Fest brought GF's teen scene to the downtown with 11 bands in 11 hours (I used teen scene because it rhymed, and that makes me clever, but really, adults were representing as well). A few days before that, Gilly's shut down 3rd with the Johnny On The Block street party. I attended, adorned with a VIP pass which gave me access to my own port-a-potty.

As I was pondering life today, my college friend Marc called me from the set of CSI where he was somehow involved. He's an actor down in LA. He was wondering what "Southie" meant - since several people were wearing "Southie Pride" jackets. I told him it had to do with Boston, and he immediately became enraged. This happens a lot with him. He had a virtual breakdown about the lyrics to "Auld Lang Syne" once, and couldn't understand how there could be a "First Noel" with there has clearly been no noels since. I like him a lot... he keeps me grounded. He was also quite annoyed with an actor, who shall remain nameless, because he didn't know his lines. He'd been on the shoot for 11 hours, and was a bit delirious. He made me talk to an extra named Emily. It was all very confusing.

Stay tuned for some cool things that are up and coming. The MSP project is coming to a close, and we're quite proud of our accomplishments - specifically CulturePulse, which couldn't have been done without the help of the North Valley Arts Council, the UND College of Arts and Sciences and my boys down in San Hose (holla). The future holds some interesting things for me, all of which I talked about in my previously-deleted blog, so you don't get to know about them at this point.

Just know that as I sit here pondering to my laptop, apparently with a case of keyboard diarrhea, with an ice pack on my back, I am awaiting the unknown adventure that tomorrow will bring. I've got a smile on my face, and a g'times on the tip of my tongue.

(okay, I'm lying... I'm far to anal retentive for that... I've got tomorrow's pre-approved agenda printed, laminated, and taped to my fridge.)

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

Delicious, or, This One's for You, Megan

2006-08-11T09:29:00.000-07:00

So a week has gone by... well, more like 9 days, and all without a post. It's amazing to me that I expect people to read this, and then never post. I actually got scolded by Cabaret's Frau Schneider for my lack of posting, though she also scolded me for my overuse of the word delicious...

As Cabaret draws to a close (tonight's the last night - so get out and see it) I am reminded why I love living in Grand Forks. Don't get me wrong, I'm as bitter as the next person about things that go on here, but I feel a sense of community.

It's been an insane two weeks. The nonprofit community was dealt a potential blow (though the other side off the issue will not see it this way) on Monday with the possible loss of $200,000. Masking it in an act of tax relief, this seems to me to be much more about holding the nonprofit community hostage. What does this translate into? (If you are lost at this point, here's the article, the follow up, and here's Tu-Uyen's blog about it)

As a theoretic part of the nonprofit community, whose stakeholders belong as well, and a part of the Northern Valley Nonprofits steering committee, I've been a fly on the wall through this process. The nonprofits have tried direct appeals, education, advocacy, and the like. We have failed to get our message across. Some members of the council seem to believe the nonprofit community harnesses a sense of entitlement, when in fact, I don't think that is the case. The city desires that nonprofits run as businesses, and many of them do, but consider the client base, and the opportunity for earned or sustainable income. It just isn't there.

We take $200,000 away from the nonprofit community and provide it back in the way of low-income housing (whether that is hidden in tax relief, et al). However, I'd be interested in tossing out the percentage of social service clientele that do not actually own homes. When you get right down to it, Earl Beal was correct. The nonprofit social services community provides an obligatory service to the city and county, and should be supported. When the client base is living at sub-poverty lines, your ability to charge for services goes, and rightfully so, right out the window. Without these services, a community fails to be "healthy" and fails to "function" in an adequate fashion.

I've never understood this relationship between the council (albeit the previous one) and the nonprofit sector. In many ways, the council seemed to want to take a parental role for the nonprofits, in almost a micromanigerial fashion. I do not think this attitude is malicious at all, but perhaps it is this air of benevolence that causes some of the tension. Take the personalities out of the equation, and what it boils down to is this: Social service nonprofits engage our communities and give back to them the sorts of social capital that allows problems to be solved, visions to be created, and transformations to occur. Period.

They deserve support. They deserve this funds that were set aside for them.

Again, don't get me wrong. I've had good dealings with the city. I've had great dealings with Council President Gershman. Here is an area where we do not see eye to eye.

My larger concern is how this bleeds over to the arts community. Unfortunately we live in a society, in a region, where the community may not consciously realize the value the arts bring. We live in a region where arts are not considered an economic indicator, though nationally, they are one of the most important. We live in a community where people do not understand the difference between SPA and Crimson Creek (one being high school, one being professional...) As the community focus on art change from that of education to one of social positioning, we will need to force a paradigm shift in this respect.

Statistically speaking, the arts are a primary force for relocation of a quality workforce (so are appropriate and strong social service offerings). The arts are one of the strongest catalysts for urban growth, and in the case of physical arts structures, urban development. The arts are important for social dialogue and political health. Especially so in Grand Forks. (For more information, I encourage you to read "Themes on Arts Participation in Grand Forks and Region" or the actual "Arts Participation Research")

The city currently gives money to the North Valley Arts Council, which is then re-granted to the community. This support is amazingly appreciated. However, with the position the city has taken on the nonprofits, I can't help but wonder how secure that potential funding is. Without the support of our city, our arts community would cease. As we have a very small amount of philanthropic giving to the arts, a severe lack of foundations, and a business community that is tapped is so many other ways, the lack of funding for programs is shocking, and a bit scary. At this point, is it then entitlement that we feel, or is it, rather, a sense of urgency.

I know that just like any other issue the council faces, there are going to be people on both side. I realize that. I understand that not everyone feels the arts should be supported. That's fine. It's nice to hear people that do, though. Last week, one of the surveys returned after Cabaret said "As a tax payer, I'd like to see more city money put into endeavors such as Crimson Creek." That is nice to hear. Though it wouldn't be a popular idea, it's good to know that what we do is appreciated.

Look for very cool things to come from the arts community in the next year. Look for a heightened sense of collaboration. Look to the future with idealism. Though I'm being intentionally vague, there is something a brewin', and I think it's going to be cool.

Until then, lets plug forward, and hope for the best. After all, our lives not determined by what happens to us, but by how we react to what happens. Our lives are not determined by what life brings to us, but by the attitude we bring to life. Positive attitude causes a chain reaction of positive thoughts, events, and outcomes. It is a catalyst, a spark that creates extraordinary results. (anonymous)

Peace::Ben::Team CulturePulse

Traffic Jam, or, There's Scanty on DeMers

2006-08-02T13:08:00.000-07:00

ic "There was a cabaret and there was a master of ceremonies and there was a city called Berlin in a country called Germany. It was the end of the world...and we were fast asleep...."

It's been 20 hours since Cabaret opened. In that 20 hours, I haven't been shot yet, or forced to pack my bags and leave town, so that is a good sign.

7pm last evening was marked by a new addition to the sidewalks outside the Empire. In a move of either brilliance or stupidity, we sent the Kit Kat Girls and Boys to the streets to mingle, flirt and welcome the throngs of people we expected for opening night.

While our audience was slightly above average on the age charts, they still seemed to enjoy the debauchery that was presented. Little old ladies greeted women leaving nothing to the imagination with smiles and novelty. Some of those same little old ladies greeted our Kit Kat Boys with wondering eyes... or so I was told.

While my favorite part of the evening (absent of the show) may have been Kit Kat Boy Herman unknowingly hitting on UND President Charles Kupchella, the looks of people driving past the Empire was priceless, and probably good for publicity of the show.

Often times, I think people are so unaware of options unless you find a way to be brutally in their face. Perhaps this will help. It was fantastic to watch, none the less. Perhaps delicious is a better word.

As for the show itself, a strong opening (with tweaking to be had), was met with an audience who may have not known what they were in for. Perhaps expecting a stage version of the movie Cabaret, people came in full force to our little number - giving us a great house for a Tuesday opening night. The crowd seemed a bit amused at the antics of Willkommen, thinking that may be the last of the daring Fosse styled moves... not knowing the racy was yet to be unleashed.

Amusement turned a bit to shock when Allison Brooks (Sally Bowles) came out for her first number. Many, perhaps even attending because of Allison, know her as the music leader from Calvary Lutheran Church... and let's just say Sally Bowles is no choir girl... That being said, Allison's tasteful portrayal of debutramp Bowles was appropriate and thoroughly enjoyable. Audiences seemed hooked.

It wasn't until after the boy-boy-girl dance masterpiece Two Ladies that we lost our first audience member.

Three others didn't return from intermission (not that I was watching the front door... but I was - of the three, two were a mother/daughter combo where the mother seemed to seriously be questioning why she had purchased a ticket for her apparently 13 year old daughter against the better recommendation of the disclaimer).

Other than that, the audience returned in full force for the much less sexual, much more poignant second act. The buzz I've heard was good, and the reviews have been strong.

I should let you know: I do not think the show is that racy. Compared to the 1998 revival of Cabaret, we're giving you nothing. There is simulated sexual situations. There is simulated drug/alcohol use. There is innuendo. There are boys too close to other boys and girls too close to other girls. You know... nothing worse that the modern day soap opera.

What is different, is this is a live theatre. Once seated, in a dark, full auditorium, it is uncomfortable to get up and leave. Beyond that, live theatre is an emotional experience, and very much the role of Cabaret is to challenge people's comfort zones. Beyond all this talk of racy sexuality lies a story that is touching and tragic. A story that has contemporary relevance. A story that we can all relate to, on either side of the equation.

My mother called me today to ask how opening went. I told her people left over content. She thought it was rude and closed minded. That got me thinking about the market for art in middle America.

While leaving a theatre is rude, and something I've never done (and trust me, this isn't out of lack of opportunities - when I was in L.A. this spring, a friend and I sat through the travisty that was Puna the $#%& Dog, some tragic effort to try shock theatre that overshot and under impressed... thank God for the boxed wine), some people just can't/won't/don't handle the content of the theatre, and I think that is okay.

After all, this was an audience whose shock at the atrocities of the holocaust (as presented in the play) was much more calm then when there was a boy-boy smooch on stage (now to all you out there that don't wanna see any of that, it's about a fraction of a second, and not even really a kiss... and you can allow yourself to be distracted by the 8 half naked women on stage).

Grand Forks responded well and I'm proud to be a part of it. I think we as a community understimate our audience. Just because we are in the midwest and harness a bit more conservative ideology, it doesn't make us all that closed minded.

In anycase, it's a show you must see. Absent of the scandel and the fact that there are moments of "hot, hot, hot" - the story is brilliantly written. If you want to know more, visit culturepulse.org.

Beyond the debauchery of the Kit Kat Club, which is metaphoric, we follow the lives of two pairs: Sally Bowles (who represents the British) and American Cliff Bradshaw (played by Mike Stromenger), and German Frau Schneider (Played by Megan Gredesky), and her beau German Jew Herr Shultz (Played by Adam Feguson). Their lives serve as the window through which we see the effect of the rise of Nazism. Their lives serve as the mirror through which we must reflect our own personal ties to the story's lessons.

Guided through the tragedy, the debauchery, and the lessons themselves is the emcee: chalk white face, crimson lips, and easily as menacing as he is fascinating. (Casey Paradies)

Don't come expecting the movie, however. When Bob Fosse grabbed ahold of Cabaret to adapt it to film, he created much more a spotlight for Liza (are you there mama? it's me, Liza) Minilli than a true-to-script adaptation. This is no more apparent than the number "Cabaret", which Minilli used as a show stopping number, but originally was the anthem of her vournerability

Cabaret runs through this Friday, and again the 8th through the 11th. Tickets are a mere $18 ($15 for students), and the show runs from 7:30-10:00pm at the Empire. See it. Be there.

After all, what good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is a Cabaret, old chum, Come to the Cabaret.

Peace :: Ben :: Team CulturePulse

Gather Yours, or, T-Minus 120 Minutes to Auction

2006-07-27T13:58:00.000-07:00

Today's the day to gather you and yours and come in full force to the Third Street Gallery's auction! Artwork by local and regional artists will be available for purchase at the First Annual Art Auction at the Third Street Gallery in Downtown Grand Forks. The auction will begin with a social hour at 6:00 pm. The actual auction will be at 7.

What a great event - and I've seen the artwork, there is some great stuff there!

Bring your friends, bring your wallet, and meet me at the auction tonight.

Peace :: Ben :: Team CulturePulse

The Summer Season, or, Reprise the Theme Song and Roll the Credits

2006-07-25T09:58:00.000-07:00

It's hot. It's oppressive. I, of course, hate it. But that's just me.

We've moved to the portion of the summer where it can easily be 46 degrees and 104 degrees on the same day. On of the many things that makes North Dakota unique is that it refuses to adhere to any scientific normality and basically bucks the system that is nature. Want to find a place where it has snowed and had a tornado in the same week? Come to North Dakota.

Though it is hotter than hell out, Crimson Creek rehearsals are in full swing. There is a lot of sweat involved. A lot. Not by me, understand, but by everyone who is physically working hard. I'm just sitting. Watching. Judging... it's quite lovely, actually.

Everyone needs to see this show. It's risque, it's raunchy, it's poignant, it's daring... and it's entertaining. That's all I'm going to say for now - that, and the fact that I may need to move after it is over.

In other fun news, I got an e-mail from Cheri Reitmeier, who heads up Farmer's Market. Farmer's market is interested in having street musicians playing from 8:30 or 9ish until 11am... they can set up anywhere in Town Square and play for donations (there is paid entertainment that plays from 11-1).

That's awesome - anyone that is interested, please contact Cheri at 218-779-1778.

Other must attends coming up collide a bit. JLG and Farmer's Market have teamed up to bring you the JLG Summer Block Party each Thursday from 4:30 until 8pm. This week, Ali Rood will be playing... check it out. It's great to see such energy in our downtown.

Also on Thursday is the Third Street Gallery's first Silent Auction. The Third Street Gallery is a non-profit arts organization committed to furthering the arts and culture of the Greater Grand Forks area.

The auction will begin at 7pm and features art created by local and regional artists. All items start at $60. Bid online or you can contact the Third Street Gallery for your bidding number today.

Everyone needs something by a local artist adorning their walls, so come out in droves to help make this a success for the Gallery. Plus, the gallery is run by two bang-up gals who I just adore. Be there, or feel my wrath.

I have a feeling it's going to be a day of empty threats.

A Moment of Silence, or, You Will Be Greatly Missed

2006-07-20T19:42:00.000-07:00

Sadly, I was informed today that Carol Graham, the former Arts Reporter for the Grand Forks Herald, passed away this morning. Carol was an amazing supporter and friend to the arts community.

Service information will be listed in tomorrow’s paper.

Agape :: Ben :: Team CulturePulse

Update: A memorial remembrance will begin at 6:30 p.m. Wednesday in the Grand Forks Herald Community Room.

Full Article about Carol here.

Holy Fast Response, Batman, or, It's nice when...

2006-07-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

Last evening I ran into Pete from the City of Grand Forks who let me know that all was well with the world. The city has addressed the problem of artists in the park (playing) and there should be no problem with it. The police have been informed, and unless the artists violate a noise ordinance, there should be absolutely no reason they can't peddle, play or pan handle. I promised Pete I'd give a call to all the street urchins I know and invite them forth.

It is a great feeling to be able to have answer's to your questions, and to get attention from the City of Grand Forks - to have your issues addressed and dealt with in a timely matter. Kudos Grand Forks, and well done.

Moving foward. Onward and up.

Thanks :: Ben :: Team CulturePulse