Posts tagged: Michael Berton

The Show and Tell Gallery Podcast #9

For the second of three Show and Tell Gallery Productions events in one week the featured art was feeling multi-sourced and the touchable performers were  familiar and reliable.  Not so mit podcrash inducer Splice Finders feeling a patch of blackness, perhaps due to driving around Show and Tell Gallery Towers for half-an-hour looking for a parking place to touch, or perhaps due to the touched feelings of the besotted gentleman whom Richard Schemmerer astutely escorted “to another gallery.”  More likely it was Splicey’s maniacal desire to employ both mono- and tri-podal digital capturing thingies that distracted him just long enough that he did not notice the flashing standby light feeling like being touched on the stoic Olympus LS-10 until the middle of Eric McEuen‘s set. 
touching1
We’re afraid that you’ll need to go back to the Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art #30 podcast to hear the one about the fish – that toe-tapping one about, ironically, disappointment – because the only part of his set that was captured consisted of Eric’s touching interpretations of, among others, Neil Diamond and The Beatles, and the Splicemeitser cannot afford even the few cents in heartfelt royalties that would be due those deserving songcrafters.

Feeling: A Touching Show was itself missing the work of Gary Aker, who was feeling a touch of the crud on March 5, 2009.   That left Patrick Bocarde, Brittany Baldwin and Rick J to flesh out the touching performance portion of the feeling presentation with spoken words, whilst the visual art by Rage Anders, Melissa Armstrong, Dave Benz, Brittle Star, Nicolas Hall, James Honzik, Chris Ives, Elizabeth Kuzmovich, Richard Schemmerer, Anna Todaro, Robin Urton and Cathie Joy Young remains tactilely available at the gallery through March, 2009 or monetarily yours at the sensualist shrine of your choosing indefinitely.  Attendees Wayne Flower, Michael Berton, Tom Mattox, Christian Kenseth, Benjamin Fisher, and Dan Tree and Emma (and Celestial Concubine, who touched down at the after chow) have all long since felt the sheets and touched the pillow.   The Show and Tell Gallery Podcast caress thine soft ears just there, no, there, yes, that’s the spot, and on the spong-iTunes-a-dermis subscribus so if you want to, and you feel like it, then it’s okay, you can touch its link:

http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=295435468

Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art #32

silly rob childish

Rob Gray

Intensity, brilliance, contrast… yes, those are nouns, exceedingly important to this nounery that bloguets forth of the Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art and other art purveyed by Show and Tell Gallery Productions.  How easy it should be then to employ such parties du discours superlatives in the service of these lines regarding the February 16, 2009 event.  But ease be forewarned that this reckless hope may choke reconcile upsetting and broken ever-be, which is fine with us – we’re up to the challenge.  And so forth were welcomed the multidisciplinary Rob Gray and the multi-discipled Jack Klatt and there was intensity, brilliance and contrast and so forth.  Glorious, riveting and superb are words that also flow from the recollections of their performances, captured for part one of the audio podcast by the drooling and productive Splice Finders.

National Poetry Slam legend has it that Rob was a member of the first ever Ventura Poetry Slam team to compete at the National Poetry Slam competition in Austin, Texas in 2006.  Taking chances and not holding back are noun-like phrases that might suffice as euphemisms for his singular and industrious trail, as he has been making music under the pseudonym silly rob childish for four years, so far releasing sixteen solo albums and EPs.  Start looking for them; maybe start with Artshole of which he is founder.  On a whim, in the pursuit of adventure, he’s in Portland now, and we’re thankful for his new coordinates.

Jack Klatt

Jack Klatt

Also just moved to Portland (from somewhere near the Elektra label circa 1969) Jack Klatt arrives  “steeped in a long tradition of Minneapolis folk music” – thank you for the head start, Twin Cities.  His delicate odes and haunting ballads stick to the walls like smoke and shadows, which are nouns, but they are no substitute for these songs, and these similies are really no match for sitting quietly and listening to Jack sing and play.  Or should we call him “howlin’ bobbi lee” to maintain editorial consistency?  We just want to hear another one.  We strongly encourage you to catch either Rob or Jack, preferably both, to consume what they’ve made and enjoy what they do.

Comes a time to change the agenda to the Show and Tell Open Mic and employ nouns of shorter and more varied character.  Melissa Sillitoe (who may have the pseudonym “silly toe curatish,” what if everyone had one? send us yours today!) and Joel Wegman performed Melissa’s drama-in-progress-within-a-drama-in-progress.  Mike G (“gimme da Mike nowish”) shared an early indicator of his talents, and more-than-proper-nouns Christian, Judith Fay Pulman, Michael Berton, Wayne Flower, Paul Evans, Dennis McBride and Benjamin Fisher joined the chorus line with indicators extemporadish julienned, and… and even yours unruly among other wordy speakers mic-ish, as well as guitary music makish Colin and Dylan.  We made so much noise that silly splice fiendish was obliged to split the pod atom in two, always something, often glorious, riveting and superb.

Thus the resulting three-part, two-hours-and-change (sorry, but it’s worthish every moment) is to be found here, alongside others that came before and those yet to come, to Portland, to the inviting and Three Friends Coffee House, the “arty three friendish” of the coffee houses where this stuff happens and sticks to the walls like shadows, like art, even like… intensity, brilliance, and contrast.  Checked it out now?  Still have Jack Klatt’s closing song in your head?  Us, too.

Similarly, there’s silli iTunes appish, where your i.d. sticks to the silicon like the proverbial binary in the gold mine just a-picking at this link, take a byte:

http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=295435461

Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art #30

michaelberton

Michael Berton

We’ve decided that this is a pretty neat thing, a quite beautiful thing, really, this Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art thing, this infinitely changeable thing, this unpredictable thing what it has been all along we suppose but one can’t really see such a trend in a small sample.  So we arrive at number 30, and after a month of caffeinated Mondays we assert, smiling, yet humbly, that this is a pretty cool thing, a quite handsome thing, really.

Milo Duke

Milo Duke

Consider the February 2, 2009 “Blind Date Edition” line-up, per se.  Initiating, delightfully, with the accomplished troubadour Milo Duke packing emotional and technical wallop-mastery and more tempo changes than a Tchaikovsky ballet; Michael Berton, deadpan voice declaiming his uncompromising verse, often cantankerous in its lack of punctuation and asphyxiation of grammar, all to sublime effect; and Ezza Rose bearing multiple stringed instruments, each an angel’s harp to accompany her stunning voice, rendering a canon of wicked-smart and delicate songs: “Power is a dangerous thing/And all the beautiful that it brings,” as she sings in “Storyteller,” and we can’t help but agree, regarding each of you, dear performers.   We who have the good fortune to be part of Show and Tell Gallery Productions are truly blessed, and we want you to always be a part of it, to return to it, to bring your friends, to show and to tell, as it seems to be real, and it feels good – a real, good thing.

Ezza Rose

Ezza Rose

And share we do, although we forget what we are doing, our shoelaces untied, in the afterglow of each week’s invited performance, leaving the power on, the mic open – an open, “on” mic available – it is not the Machiavellian star, rather it is the steel stagehand of the outstretched arms of the Show and Tell Open Mic, our nuclear ars gratia artis embracing our friends, our heroes, our champions all.  Is that why Melissa Sillitoe shares, as if revealing Secret Knowledge, the story of why she calls people “chipmunks,” who root for the roto-endearing Justin Parris – seems he’s got it as bad as we do, and his sink drain (rhymes with brain) is infested.  We scrutinize the inscrutable writings of Christian and we follow blind (could this be… an infirmary?), and that’s a fact.  And, you, young man, Dwight Peters… yeah, well…  there’s imagery here… that… well, our dirty mind is interpreting…  so… keep it up, man, this is… intense.  And, check it out: Wayne Flower sings – SINGS – a capella… you had us at “broken,” man, we tell you what.  We are grateful for Rick J, who is MySpace friends with Keats and we are but his brief and accidental audience – the reverse would be impossible to arrange, not even by Melissa Sillitoe, whose Astoria pilgrimages are apparently as legendary as our own.  We encounter the thoroughly digniified Tob(e)y, reciting from memory Tom Crawford’s “Pacific City” as well as one of his own, and betraying a depth of memory yet to fully expose itself to this brief and accidental audience. The present satori of Mike G’s writing “into a very dark and painful place” (see 3FM:CA #27) appears to us to be a lateral move.  Then appearing and disappearing in sequence let’s go down to Big Pinkside for the sage, steel-handed Patrick Bocarde vs. the modern yeti machines, and xonclude, delightfully,  with Eric McEuen showing off his infectious, three-week-old ditty “…for anyone who’s been disappointed.  Anyone in this room?”  Not us – not tonight, anyway.

Justin Parris

Justin Parris

Ars gratia iTunes, while a beautiful thing, may not have the same ring, at least not to our traditionalist ears, much less to those of Edgar Allan Poe’s, whose prose in The Poetic Principle goes “that would we but permit ourselves to look into our own souls we should immediately there discover that under the sun there neither exists nor can exist any work more thoroughly dignified, more supremely noble, than this very poem, this poem per se, this poem which is a poem and nothing more, this poem written solely for the poem’s sake.”  When we are taking a break from looking into our souls, might we remember that this thoroughly dignified podcast lives at the same old Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Series page at brokenhours.net under the same old, dying sun?  We forgot to point this out last time.  Nevertheless, permit thyself to look into the sink drain of the modern yetiTunes machine, for there you should immediately discover the podcast, this very podcast, this podcast per se, which is posted solely for the podcast’s sake, and which can be subscribed to via this link:

http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=295435461

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