One of my favorite SXSW features is Knitta, Please, a now-large scale project begun by Magda Sayeg in her then-home of Houston. Everywhere she looked it was gray, and as a dedicated artist she wanted to infuse her environment with handmade color. She didn’t have paint. She had something better – yarn.
I first learned about the project at a commercial shown prior to a documentary screening at SXSW. My favorite line from Magda – “you don’t knit for hate. This is a goodness project.” And the world needs more goodness. In 2005, she started Knitta, Please, an organization dedicated to incorporating woven graffiti into urban environments. The work of the Knittas can now be found on 5 continents. The variety of pictures on her website’s gallery speak for themselves. Hop over there and take a look.
To earn more about Knitta, Please, check out their website and blog. How might your art help to bring more color to the world in a meaningful way?
I snapped the photo above in the green room at the Austin Convention Center during SXSW and posted it to my Tumblr photo blog. And yes, it did make me think about how many places in the world need more art.
Becoming a storyboard artist
I’ve been trying to find the right channel to share my love for design and creative living in a visual way. This blog is really meant more for my writing. This blog is a storyteller’s project, and while a picture can be worth a thousand words, pictures need their own space. I went looking for a place online that was easy to update on the go, that I could largely populate from my mobile phone as I’m out in the world, living it up. In short, I needed a channel to document my usual shenanigans and let them really shine.
Tumblr gets my vote
Enter Tumblr, a ridiculously user-friendly microblogging service that lives somewhere between mainstream blogging and Twitter. Post a quote, link, picture, video, audio clip, or some short text (perhaps slightly longer than 140 characters.) The mobile app has all kinds of features that are easy to use and make posting a cinch. I’m giddy just thinking about this new online adventure. I will post whenever I see or experience something really interesting that I want to share but that doesn’t necessarily warrant a full written post on this blog.
Pictures make a better brain
Lately I’ve been reading a lot about how to build a better brain. There’s a lot of evidence for visual learners to try to improve their auditory skills and for auditory learners to try to improve their visual skills. I am part of the latter group – the weird ones. (Seriously – only 10% of people are auditory learners.) We’re the people who never forget a conversation or something we read, through are highly unlikely to remember what shirt we wore yesterday. I think in words, not pictures. Temple Grandin inspired me to try to make pictures a bigger part of my life. And I’d always like to find ways to boost my brainpower.
Born into Color is born
So here we go – the visual storyteller in me finally gets the chance to have her say in pictures. The title of my blog “Born into Color” is inspired by a line from a poem by Rumi entitled “Quietness”. Appropriate for a girl trying to use fewer words and more pictures. This is my attempt to “Become the Sky. Escape. Walk outside like someone suddenly born into color.” Isn’t that image beautiful – to imagine that every time I set foot outside my home I’m suddenly transformed by the world around me, like a black and white film suddenly brought to life by color.
I was honored to have the chance to connect with Mark H. Dold, the brilliant actor who plays C.S. Lewis, about his role, the piece, and why the ideas it raises are so important for us to consider in this day and age. I highly recommend grabbing a ticket as soon as you can.
Christa – How did you come to learn about and be cast as C.S. Lewis in Freud’s Last Session?
Mark – It was a random phone call from Barrington Stage Co. Artistic Director Julianne Boyd. A reading was being done in NYC at The Cosmopolitan Club in the Fall of 2008. The head of the board, Maryanne Quison is a member. The reading was to increase awareness of BSC. The actor scheduled to read the role of C.S. Lewis was not feeling well the day before, so I was asked at the eleven hour to step in. I’ve been in the role ever since.
C – What a wonderful turn of fate for you! What was your first reaction to the piece?
M – I didn’t know what to think. I only had 24 hours to wrap my brain around the script and that’s not nearly enough time. I’m still researching Lewis over a year later. I remember thinking that the script was dense and I was unable to see any of he humor that came flying out when we actually began rehearsing and performing the piece in the Berkshires. Beyond that, I will never forgot how I felt after the reading at The Cosmopolitan Club. In two quick days I had managed to fall madly in love with the play in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. I loved the idea, the debate, the characters.
What really struck me was how the two men seemed very real. They were hardly iconic cutouts. There was flesh and blood there. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be “brain smart” enough to play Lewis but I knew I was “heart smart” enough.
C – I love that idea of being “heart smart”. You’ve been researching C.S. Lewis now for over a year. How do you conduct that research?
M – I decided very early on not to do any reading beyond September 3, 1939. It was important to me to know everything Lewis had written up to this point. After all the play is about the man he is not the man is going to become. Of course one informs the other, but if the words didn’t exist on the page by Sept. 3, 1939, then I didn’t read it. Of course I am familiar with The Chronicles of Narnia but, again, I didn’t go back to them.
I focused on Lewis’ early writing. His letters, his poetry, and found his autobiography Surprised By Joy very helpful. That book was written later in his life but it focuses on his earlier days leading up to his conversion with Freud. I also made sure to read anything that is referenced in the play. GK Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man, The New Testament, etc. I did a lot of reading. I still am.
People coming to the show are now sharing some of their favorite books with both Martin [Rayner; the actor who plays Freud] and me. Some they’ve read and even some they’ve written. I’m trying to read those as well.
C – Is it at all intimidating to play such a well-known historical figure?
M – I was completely intimated! I still am! I think I will remain in a state of continual intimidation until the day the show closes. I never thought I would be smart enough to play a man with a brain like Lewis. Once I started working on the role I quickly realized that you can’t play a man’s brain. You play someones heart and soul. The more I read about Lewis in his younger years, uncovering events and people who had critical influence on his development, the more I began to understand him. He’s a man, just like me. His experience brought him to his thinking. Not the other way around.
I’m an actor; I can play experience. You can’t play thought. At the Yale School of Drama our brilliant acting teacher Earle Gister was always talking about how to make your scene partner “feel” something, because you have to change the way someone feels about something before they change the way they think about it. The head FOLLOWS the heart. Not the other way around.
C – Has your performance evolved throughout the show’s run? If so, how?
M – People keep asking me how I can keep my performance fresh after six months and I have to admit I’m not having trouble doing that. I believe that speaks to the wonder of Mark St. Germain’s script and the subject matter. How could you possibly tune out while having a discussion with one of history’s most fascinating characters? A discussion about one of the most mind-bending issues known to man?
Just yesterday a line hit me like it never has before. I thought “O,M…..,that’s what that line is really about! Of course!” Also, over time, Martin and I have gotten to a place where we know this piece so well that there is an ease, a complete lack of tension on stage that I can’t remember ever feeling. I feel completely open and available to anything that may occur.
Also, now I really have the sense that when people come to see this play they are putting themselves into our hands. They truly trust us to take them on this journey and deliver them back safely by the play’s 75 minute conclusion.
I’ve always known that to be the unspoken agreement between actor and audience but I’ve never felt it more intensely then I have with this production. People are coming to see this play really out of trust. Out of faith. We’ve discovered over the months that 80% percent of our audience is there because someone else told them to come see the show. They aren’t there because of some million dollar advertising budget, or because a superstar is taking a turn on stage between movies. They are coming because people they trust told them to. They come to this little theatre that no one’s heard of to listen to two actors that most people wouldn’t recognize talk for an hour and thirteen minutes. That trust gets transferred to us. It’s an amazing feeling.
C – Can you talk a little bit about your acting partnership with Martin Rayner?
M – Martin and I are very lucky. Our chemistry just works. Plain and simple. It’s something you can’t bottle, buy or rehearse. It’s either there or it’s not. We’ve shared a lot and learned a lot from each other both on stage and off.
Freud’s Last Session runs its 200th performance this evening at 7pm at the Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. Tickets are currently available for performances through Sunday, May 1st. For more info, click here.
“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” ~ Thomas Merton
I love the power of art to inspire us, to help us reach higher ground, while also taking us away from our day-to-day lives and giving us the permission to dream of a different way of being. It helps us to reduce attachment to where we are, and then as if by magic, a new vision of our lives comes crisply into focus. Good art, in any of its forms, alters our perception of time.
On this rainy (albeit warmer!) weekend, take some time out to lose yourself in art and see how your deepest dreams surface. Let me know what you find and I promise to do the same!
The image above depicts the painting “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” by Georges Seurat. It inspired the musical “Sunday in the Park with George” by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine. The original hangs in the Art Institute of Chicago and is one of my favorite paintings of all time.
This blog is also available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.
Last Friday afternoon my office offered a few sets of tickets to Sting’s company-sponsored concert at the Prudential Center in Newark, NJ, and I was lucky enough to get to go. I’ve never seen Sting in concert and he’s one of my favorite artists. His consistency and relentless focus on just the music has stood the test of time. His rendition of Fields of Gold is one of my favorite songs of all time.
At 59, he sounds better in person than he does on any of his stellar recordings. He defines the archetype of the classy performer. He was in black, every day clothes, as was his small band consisting of a drummer, guitar player, keyboard player, and backup singer who have been with him forever. The lighting enhanced the show, but wasn’t the show. Black stage and backdrop. The evening was about the music and nothing more.
In an age of Gaga gimmicks, Perry costumes, and tabloid controversy, it was so refreshing to experience an artist up there on stage, offering exactly what he’s been offering for decades. Nothing more and nothing less. He didn’t need any grand entrances, elaborate special effects, or attention-getting stunts. A guy and his band, endlessly talented and greatly appreciated by people who have loved him and his music for years. It was a perfect evening. Just goes to show that the best plan for success, particularly in art, is quality – pure and simple.
I snapped the photo above during the concert.
This blog is also available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.
“A society is defined not only by what it creates, but by what it refuses to destroy.” ~ John Sawhill
I’ve been watching the coverage of Egypt with a heavy heart. I’m sure you have, too. An art curator in Egypt was interviewed by one of the networks recently and he talked about his deep concern that the violence could jeopardize so much priceless art in Cairo. I’ve been so focused on the human element of the conflict that I never considered how this could reshape Egypt’s artistic heritage.
This new perspective got me thinking about the creation and destruction we do every day in our lives. What we build, tear down, rearrange, and leave intact says a lot about who we are and what we value. It deserves some reflection time.
2.) I’m building Compass Yoga, a yoga teaching business, with a strong eye on delivering yoga to under-served populations particularly in conjunction with the medical community.
3.) Though my natural inclination is to make my living through working with small organizations, I’m currently a part of a large financial institution that has become a great test lab for me to learn about industrial psychology, mobile technology, and the levers that move the market.
4.) This blog continues to be a big part of my life as I work on other writing projects. My writing is a way for me to reach out, connect, and work through the situations of my life.
What I refuse to destroy:
1.) I used to take a lot of risk in my career. I still value risk though I’ve also learned to better calculate the consequences. As a result my risk taking in recent years has yielded a higher return, personally and financially. My improved analytical skills have helped me build a life of real value and independence – something I would never compromise.
2.) I work hard to create a peaceful life and home, which may sound funny to people who know that my schedule can frequently get packed to the gills. It’s only in the past year or so that I’ve felt any sense of peace, something I always desperately wanted and could never find. Despite a long-lived yoga practice, where I would find moments of peace and well-being, it faded quickly once I got back to real life. What I didn’t realize for a long time is that peace is a daily process and it is actually always with us. The quiet within wants to surface. We just have to slow down enough to let it reveal itself. Every day I carve out time to just sit and be. I have to.
3.) I have a ritual of preparation. Even if I never use a lick of what I prepare, the preparation itself is part of my creation process. Brian and I have been working a lot on my improv skills, my ability to trust my gut so I can show up and just be. I was trained as a preparation junkie, trying to madly cover every possible base. It took me years to realize that every base will never be covered. There will always be unexpected circumstances, thing we could never prepare for because we never even imagined their existence. And while I’m getting much more confident in my trusty gut and my intuition, I’m still preparing. My prep time these days is greatly reduced compared to what I used to do, but it’s still there in some form. I need it. Rituals bring comfort, especially in new situations.
What about you? What are you working on creating, and what are the non-negotiables of your life?
The image above is my latest doodle on my Wacom. It’s how I feel when I’m writing late into the night.
“To think creatively, we must be able to look afresh at what we normally take for granted.” ~ George Kneller
How many times have you caught yourself saying, aloud or to yourself, “well, that’s just the way it is”? It’s a dangerous phrase, though entirely understandable when we are in the throes of frustration or disappointment. I’ve made a career out of busting up that phrase and trying to help others banish it from their thought patterns. I’m all for getting inside a system and learning its inner workings, but once I learn a system the tinkering begins. I get a kick out of seeing how my re-arranging of the rules, no matter how long-standing those rules are, can improve a system.
If you’ve been in a system for a long-time, whether that system is a job, a relationship, the city where you live, it can be a challenge to find joy, to think creatively about any challenges, to make it feel new again. Here are 3 ways to take George Keller’s advice and freshen up your eyes and mind.
1.) Yoga and meditation. (You knew that was coming, right?) No yoga practice, class, or even posture is ever the same experience twice for teachers or students. There is always nuance. Our bodies are different every day – literally. Our rate of cell turnover is tremendous. Some scientific studies say that every month all of our cells – every single one – is entirely new. That means you’re physically a new person every month. And since a yoga and meditation practice often begins in the body, then those practices must be new every time. Embrace the change from your practice, and you’ll be able to embrace change in other areas of your life. That’s yoga’s whole purpose.
2.) Check out the world with a dog or a child. Their eyes are new every day, and their literal and figurative perspective, is very different from that of adults. They are open to the world in ways that we are entirely closed off. We have a lot to learn from them. My nieces, Lorelei and Aubree, and my dog, Phin, show me new ways of thinking whenever I’m with them.
3.) Take in some art. We’re blessed in New York City is have the most incredible art, music, and performance landscape in the world. There is art in some form for every taste. Artists are constantly reinvesting themselves. Their livelihood depends upon reinvention. Let them inspire you to do some reinvention of your own.
For Christmas, I bought myself a Wacom – a drawing tablet that attaches to my computer. Sort of like a high-tech Etch-A-Sketch. I have been wanting to do some art work that I can showcase online and this seemed like the best outlet for that. To the left here is my first real doodle – it depicts a dream I had a few weeks ago about standing at the very edge of a cliff and shouting out into a valley. And when I woke up, I felt like a tremendous release had occurred.
I was a little clumsy with the Wacom for the first month that I’ve been trying it out. I would draw a shape and then try to use the paint bucket icon to fill it in. It took me a while to realize that doesn’t work. I actually had to color in a shape myself, just like I would with a paintbrush. I laughed at myself. It’s been so long since I’ve created any visual art that I almost forgot how to do it. I really do need to be doing more art.
I tried to think of a way to write about the experience of my dream, of that release, but no words came to mind. The dream was so visual, that I felt a drawing, albeit not a very sophisticated one, would be a better reflection of it. So here it is – me on the edge, shouting dreams into a valley. My first doodle of the year – what do you think?
This post is available as a free podcast on Cinch and iTunes.
“If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing.” ~Marc Chagall
I love Marc Chagall’s windows. I remember walking through building after building in France to see and feel how much beautiful light filters through them. They aren’t something we look at; they are works that we experience. There is so much heart in each tiny space.
I thought about this quote of his as I put together the sequences for my upcoming yoga classes for Compass Yoga. I work with a loose structure when I create classes, starting with an energetic quality and an intention, and then growing from there. That way the poses fit together well and give students a more holistic experience. That’s the method I’ve seen work best for the students I teach. It feels like a more authentic way for me to give.
Sometimes when I begin building a new sequence, I can feel choked up, stuck, as if I have never done a yoga posture before. It’s a manifestation of a form of stage fright that I’ve heard some performers describe – right before they begin a song or a scene their minds go completely blank. When I was a performer, it used to happen to me all the time. It can be unnerving so when that happens I stop and breath and remember that this practice comes much more from the heart than the mind.
To create a class is to create a gift, and the process of its creation is something that makes me even more grateful than the actual end-product. I remember what a treasure it is to be here, on this mat, at this moment, building something for people that will bring them joy and peace and a brief time to self-nurture.
How does the process of creation work for you? When do you feel you’re really building from the heart?
The photo above depicts Chagall’s windows in the Reims Cathedral in Paris.
“What hope there is for us lies in our nascent arts, for if we are to be remembered as more than a mass of people who lived and fought wars and died, it is for our arts that we will be remembered.” ~ Maxwell Anderson, “Whatever Hope We Have”
“Art is fundamentally a survival device of the species. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so persistent.” ~ Milton Glaser via Bruce Mau
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away I used to manage Broadway shows and national tours. I was ridiculously lucky that I always worked with big budget, award-winning productions that had incredibly high production values and top-notch talent. I started that work when I was 22 and stopped about 6 years later. Somewhere along the way, I got discouraged despite all of the success of the shows. I was afraid that I was losing a part of myself, that I was running all over the country working on artistic productions when so much of the world was suffering. People were starving, victims of war and poverty, there was so much violence and the world needed a lot of healing. And what was I doing with my fancy education? Putting on a show. I felt hollow for making art. I started to wonder if art mattered at all.
So I set off on a journey that took about 6 more years. I tried new careers, new organizations. I collected some additional skills and made my way to a good paying job that gave me the opportunity to travel and explore. If someone asked me what’s the one great discovery I’ve been hoping to make all these years on my travels it would simply be this: I want to know what matters.
David Stone, the Broadway producer of productions such as Wicked, once told me that a life in theatre, or any performing art really, is difficult. So difficult that if I could find something, anything, else that I’d be reasonably happy doing, I should do that instead of theatre. “It’s just too damn hard a life,” he said. “You should only do it if there’s literally nothing else you want to do.” I believed him and that thought lingered with me for a long time. It may have even inspired my journey away from the theatre.
In the past few weeks, a new idea’s been gripping me. Maybe art in some form is what I’m meant to do. Maybe it is my reason for being this time around. I go to museums. I watch street artists. I have recently been gobbling up books of all kinds as if tomorrow all the paper literature of the world may be gone for good. It inspires me, pushes me, makes me look at the world differently. Art reminds me of how lucky I am to be alive.
If I accomplish nothing else in 2011, here is the one enormous, glorious realization that may be sending me out into the world in a very new and unexpected adventure: art, mine and yours, matters. No matter its form or audience or scale. We don’t know who it will affect, or when or how or why. Creating is an act of faith. The act of creating, building something from our hearts that celebrates the world as we see it, may just be the most valuable thing of all.
One of my favorite SXSW features is Knitta, Please, a now-large scale project begun by Magda Sayeg in her then-home of Houston. Everywhere she looked it was gray, and as a dedicated artist she wanted to infuse her environment with handmade color. She didn’t have paint. She had something better – yarn.
Christa Avampato 
