Setting Words to Music: “Songwriters In The Round” Live Again

It’s interesting to watch show concepts circle around. MTV debuted its Unplugged show in 1989 and it’s been a pleasure to watch the format–musicians sharing background stories and writing process with stripped down acoustic versions of their songs–move from tv to local stage.

When we did it at Deep Dish Theater in Chapel Hill a dozen years ago, we had local greats like Tom Maxwell (Squirrel Nut Zippers), Peter Holsapple (the dBs and R.E.M.), Caitlin Cary (Tres Chicas), and Django Haskins (The Old Ceremony) as well as a dozen others. The concept was picked back up in 2016 in Durham, where local Fayetteville musician Doug Burton performed at the 106 Main venue. “I ended up learning so much more about the other two performers’ lives and song craft than I ever would have under normal circumstances. We were encouraged to tell a quick story about what inspired our songs, or any anecdote that might offer a glimpse into our process. I immediately thought of the 90’s MTV show. I can still remember watching the very first one with Ray Davies, a personal songwriting hero, and I loved the episodes with Elvis Costello, R.E.M., Tom Petty, and David Bowie in particular.” Burton said.

Shaun McNamee, Doug Burton, Tish Mone in 2019

Now it’s Fayetteville’s turn to showcase local and state-wide musicians: how they link up with their muse, where their song ideas come from, their favorite musical memories, and perform their best and latest work. Burton teamed up with Michael Daughtry and started the show in 2019 at The Sweet Palette. After a pandemic hiatus, Burton is remounting the show this month and plans to run every Third Friday at the Fayetteville Bakery & Cafe on Boone Trail Extension.

I asked Burton how he selects musicians to perform for Songwriters in the Round. He replied, “Originality is something we highly prize. Also, some performers just have that “it” factor. I saw Shaun McNamee perform three songs one night at Coffee Scene’s Java Expressions and I knew I had to book him. If your songs tell a story, paint a picture, set a mood that the listener can easily find themselves in, we want to hear them. Likewise, if your songs are confrontational and force the listener to think in ways they hadn’t before, we want to hear those songs as well. Another good example is Jim Hurst. I’d simply never seen anyone play the piano like he did. It was almost like he was stabbing the keys. He played with such passion and feeling, you’d have thought he was at Madison Square Garden and not a local Open Mic. That’s what we’re looking for. And there’s lots of it here. I’ve seen some young performers recently who are extremely impressive and they will be on In The Round bills in upcoming months.”

Michael Daughtry, Lisette, Isabel Taylor

The first run of the show, in addition to Burton and Daughtry, featured musicians Kayla Dawn Cason, Isabel Taylor, Leah Kaufman, Glenn Jones, Kael Jackson, Lisette, Shaun McNamee, Tish Mone, Ernesto Rivas, Chris Scroggins, Jim Hurst, and Elisa Gale. The re-launch on Friday September 17 at 7:00 PM features Lisette, Alice Osborn, and Burton. The October line up will be Shaun McNamee & Neil Ray, Herman Ospina (from The Mood Kings) and Gamalier Padilla.

Burton is eager to feature musicians who want to share their stories, even if they don’t consider themselves strictly performing in the singer/songwriter genre of music. “In fact, our October bill will feature Herman Ospina from Charlotte’s The Mood Kings. They are one of the hottest rock bands in the state at the moment, so I was really happy when Herman was interested in joining us. He told me he is interested in performing in a more stripped down, acoustic format. From our original run, Chris Scroggins from The Scroggins Band was another example of a rocker who broke his songs down to the bare essentials, and Tish Mone, though definitely outside of the Singer-Songwriter mold, fit right in with our format and was one of my absolute favorites.”

Fayetteville has an incredible depth and breadth to its music scene. From Jazz to Rock, Classical to Hip-hop, Country to Pop, there are artists (alive and passed) who have gone on to fame and fortune from their beginnings here in Cumberland County. Songwriters In The Round is another great production to let us get to know the next round of artists on their way to making a name musically for themselves.

Musician and Teacher Tony Harrison Has Good Music Mojo

Tony wears a blue tie dye buttonup shirt and plays an orange and green bass guitar. He's standing in front of a fellow musician and a drum set, all under a large tent.
Tony at a concert. photo credit: Digital Wolf Photography

Tony began playing guitar, piano drums, trombone and guitar at an early age. After seeing Elvis Presley and later receiving his first electric bass for Christmas, his life path was made clear. Tony started playing professionally while in high school, later attending UNC-Pembroke and earning a Bachelor’s Degree in Music Business. Today, Tony is the sole proprietor of Rally Point, LLC aka Cape Fear Music Center, where he spends his days repairing instruments and teaching students of all ages guitar, electric bass, ukulele, beginning piano and music theory. His shop employs several of the area’s finest instructors and instrument repair technicians.

Tony is the bassist and a songwriter for Rivermist, a regionally recognized and award-winning variety band playing in the Carolinas and Virginia. His newest ballad, ‘Tangled’ is being released in late August, 2021 and is getting great responses at live shows. Hear and purchase Rivermist’s available releases on all of your favorite streaming services at https://rivermist.hearnow.com/

Rivermist playing the NC State Fair, 2019

3 Things making your life richer & why: Obviously music is my passion and I live to perform and teach. I love my wife, Suzanne, who is my motivator and cheerleader in all things. My love for animals inspired me to become a vegetarian last year. 

What changed about your practice in 2020? Will you keep this change?
With the world in disarray last year I found I needed to develop productive habits. So I started to really focus my practice and write more music. Part of this process has led me to experiment with writing several pieces with similar subject matter. Lately I have been using roads, highways etc. If you pay attention to your surroundings, inspiration is everywhere.  

Rehearsal at Cape Fear Music Center

Where do you practice your art? Describe your work space. I do most of my practice and writing in my teaching studio at 110 Old Street. It’s just a block from where I played my first gig in front of the Market House in 1980 and on land where the mill was in the late 1700’s that our whole community grew around. It has good mojo. 

Advice to newer artists in your genre. My advice to musicians who desire to make a living or just want to enjoy playing and writing music is to be true to yourself. Write and play what makes you happy.  I play a wide variety of music from classic rock, beach music, latin and jazz to musical theater. I love many styles, but love most to play whatever makes the audience happy on any particular night. 

Guiding Light: Jeremy Fiebig

photo credit: Jacob French

Jeremy Fiebig is the Master of Play/Founding Artistic Director of Sweet Tea Shakespeare and Professor of Theater at Fayetteville State University. He also serves on the Cumberland County Library Board of Trustees. He holds an MFA from Mary Baldwin University and an MALS from UNC-Wilmington. He regularly works with other theater companies and performing artists across the region and writes and lectures on Shakespeare for schools across the country.

What does success mean to you?

This is an answer that has changed for me over time. I think it’s happening for everybody: COVID forced us into a different set of priorities, and we’re going to come out changed.

I’m an ambition-oriented guy, or that’s been my story. I like little achievements. I like badges. I like awards. I like degrees. I like collecting things like rank and status. And the sort of gamification of life has been the language I have understood and been successful at to this point in my life.

But I think where that’s changing is the artist in me actually has always wanted to push against that. To disrupt it, to use the language all the young people use these days. What does it mean to make art that actually doesn’t try to get to the next level, but is perfectly fine and happy where it is? I think the framework that runs counter against achievement-oriented success is meditative and reflective space. So how do you do that? I mean, theater does that naturally but, how do you, say, run a theater company where the goal is not to grow? That’s what the business world does: the pressure of work, capitalism generally, is to keep achieving and to keep growing. There’s a personal health version that’s necessary, but the economic version of that is not particularly healthy.

So it’s just more and more and more, and if you chase that rabbit too far, it goes to the opposite of Wonderland. So for me, what is the space that pushes against that? What are the hedges we build to create that space? What does success look like in that world, which is sort of quiet, maybe methodical or repetitive or, to use another word from another part of my life, liturgical. What does that work look like? I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately and it’s drawn me to some early conclusions about how success is quiet. Success is being able to get up in the morning and have two hours with a cup of coffee and my mind. I’m not getting up, looking at my planner and trying to think about the nine things I have to knock off my to-do list.

In my recent history, the last five years, I’ve had to really re-examine what success looks like. It used to be how many tickets can I sell and will my theater company survive? Will I get the kind of attention I got into this business for? But is that space as healthy as it can be? Is it as sustainable as it can be? That’s been a real shift in terms of success personally, artistically.

I also think success is about how am I empowering others to do what they need to do. I just turned 40 this past year and I’m working with folks in the Sweet Tea world who are younger and I’m remembering, oh yeah, I was basically exactly like that. What did I need that I didn’t get that I can provide to others? I worked in that sort of mode for a long, long time. I no longer have to prove anything to anyone. I can just live my life. And there’s a calm that can come with that.

I think this is true for all kinds of artists, but I know it is true for theater people: it’s like an addiction. And I mean that in the most direct and literal sense. It takes you to dangerous places if you let it. And it requires a kind of constant state of recovery–in all of the senses that that means–to be ongoing. And so success is a little bit like what success would look like in AA, which is did you make it through today? Do you have support? Did you make responsible choices today? And if you didn’t, are you cool to reset and keep moving on? So much of the talk about artistic life is really positive. I mean, there’s the negative side of it, nobody makes any money at it, for example. But if the positive side is oh, you’re this leader, you do eccentric stuff, you do things that nobody else does, you have talents nobody else has. And all of that is true, but I think for a lot of artists, if they’re in it, they’re doing that expression because there’s so much pressure and a lack of conformity in the other parts of their lives and it’s super stressful, incredibly exhausting, and risks being pretty dark. That is the addiction part of it, too. Everybody wants to talk about the high, they don’t want to talk about the withdrawals. They don’t teach about that in directing school. And so success is am I doing this in a way that is making an ideal life, just today?

What change do you seek to make with your art?

The change that I still have the fire for is a change in belonging, how we think about belonging. I had a lot of theater experience before I started Sweet Tea. That’s essentially why I founded a theater company because I think it was very rare to get right the idea of belonging. We use ideas like “community” and “common experience” and how we’re getting everybody in a room and we’re breathing the same air, how all the heartbeats in the room sync together.

But then we have professional structures where everything is temporary. And this is true, not just in the professional world, but also in community theater, educational theater. At the same time that we champion safety and care for actors but don’t provide that economically. Yes, there are lots of people who do this just because they love it, and the pay is bonus, but there is no security even in unpaid theater contexts because you never know the next play you’re going to do. You’re sort of artistically homeless the whole time. And that was something I felt like we mostly get wrong. And a lot of that, I sort of lay at the feet of bad tax policy and non-profit policy.

The theater world is such that you go contract to contract four weeks, eight weeks, 12 weeks at a time, if you’re really lucky, it’s much longer than that. But then you’re homeless and you’re jumping from spot to spot. But there are things that people like me can do, that theaters and arts organizations can and should do within that context. What does it look like to play around with the idea of a continuing community ensemble where actors and other artists have a stake and a say in the direction of the place? And that’s the experiment: the art is the company structure. The way of making plays in this regard has been the thing behind things.

And I say that on the educational side, too. There are days I feel like I’m good at teaching. For me, it exists on two extreme poles: I can work some magic because of my actor background, in a room full of 80 people who need the fire of a great sermon about whatever that thing is that day. And then the other side is one person at a time. But so much of the expectation of being a professor is nonstop measurement of what you’re doing rather than doing what you’re doing. And that’s just built for discouragement. Despite theater being a collaborative art form, if you’re in higher ed, you’re a silo, doesn’t matter what you do, you’re a silo because that tenure race is yours to run by yourself. There’s no one to hand the baton to. So we’re not good about creating spaces for belonging in that world. That’s the kind of change overall that I think I’m after.

How have you constructed the bridges of your career?

The bridges I’ve built have to do with two things. One is miracle: I have a mix of great privilege as who I am constructed in the universe. There are people who are constructed like I am, who don’t do what I do. The simplest way to describe it–although it seems a little woo-woo and new agey–is that I can manifest some shit. I can have a dream, whether it’s career-based or artistic-based, work or life oriented, and I think about that and it basically becomes true.

And the other piece that is a different kind of miraculous is I have just incredible resistance and grit, although I pay for it dearly. Like, I can keep going many times more than others who will quit earlier. And I have learned enough over my life to know that–I’ve had to go to therapy for some of this–but there’s a magical mix of questionable self-worth that I am built with that would cause other people to quit because they have too much self-respect or their time becomes too important to them. There have been long stretches of my life where that just hasn’t been true. I’m trying to prove something because I feel inadequate or whatever, and that kind of drive doesn’t happen in everyone. And the fact that I keep going, I think makes the manifestation thing more likely to happen.

And so, in terms of building bridges, there are lots of things that people who might otherwise be in my shoes would have said no to, and I haven’t, I said how can we make that work? My first two jobs in higher ed I got because I was a sort of jack-of-all-trades who could do theater tech work in addition to directing plays. I wouldn’t have gotten those jobs had I not said yes to the tech and design stuff. There are examples like that all over the place. There’s a version of that with Sweet Tea and founding the company: is this the way I would have done it had I the budget I wanted and the way I wanted? And the answer is no, I’m going with a path of at least less resistance. And that’s been part of the puzzle too.

I am happy and glad that Sweet Tea is able to expand to Raleigh, but I don’t think we expand there and then think, Hey, we’ve achieved the end. I’m honestly not sure what the other end is except more adventure. And, frankly, a little bit more financial predictability.

Who do you consider your present artistic cohort?

A handful of folks. Individuals and groups at Sweet Tea: two assistant artistic directors Claire Martin and Tracy Zapata, and music directors Jake French and Aaron Alderman. Dena Vassey, who does our costumes and Sana Moulder, who wears several hats from box office to costumes and other things: they’re part of that mix. And it includes this funky company that’s built on a medieval guild structure. So all the folks involved in that: it’s structured for us to develop those people and for them to weigh in on the company. That is a really, really difficult thing to manage and smarter people would probably choose not to do it, but it’s part of the soul of the place.

Outside the company, in terms of people that have and continue to influence me, I would include the American Shakespeare Center as a cultural institution.

My dad has been a big piece of this. He and I kind of follow each other: I got into Shakespeare grad school and then he took an interest, then I started a Shakespeare company and then he started a Shakespeare company, and we directed for each other, things like that. And he’s a college professor. So we sort of lead the other person now and again. And my mom is a jane-of-all-trades sort; the music piece is definitely tied to my mom, who plays piano.

Then there are a couple of other people: Rob Gibbs, with whom I’ve done a podcast off and on for years. We went to grad school together and we just fit. He’s a Hollywood screenwriter now. He landed in a different spot than I did, but we work together really well. And Rick Blunt, who’s another grad school friend. He’s just a good friend who cuts to the actual truth, whether we’re talking about art or whatever else. And that’s great.

Adaptation and Inspiration (with icing on top): Actor Matthew Stuart Jackson

photo credit courtesy of Bryan Sullivan

Matthew Stuart Jackson is an actor, writer, standup comedian, and voiceover artist currently living in Fayetteville, NC. He loves pizza, cats, and (for some weird reason) mowing the lawn, and he hates scratched DVDs, wet socks, and getting logged out of his accounts arbitrarily.

“Tribes” by Nina Raine at Portland Stage Company


3 Things you can’t live without & why: I don’t mean to be impolite or think that I know better, but I’m going to reject the premise of this question. I’d like to flip it so that we see it from the positive angle, rather than a scarcity-mindset. Artists spend so much of their lives with a scarcity outlook, that I actively try to see the positive, and what plenty I have in my life. So here are three things that make my life richer. [Ed note: I appreciated Matthew’s take on this so much that I asked if I could borrow it. The reframe will feature in future Q&As!]

A) My family. My wife, also an artist; my sister, who is also an artist and teacher; and my parents, who are life-long teachers and academics. They are also artists in their own right (or own write, if it’s my dad).  My entire family has been so supportive of my creative journey; I will be eternally grateful for their encouragement.

B) My mom’s home-made pizza. She makes the dough from scratch. She gave me the recipe, and I can make a good pizza, but it somehow NEVER matches hers. She’s the Queen.

C) Rain. I just love the rain. I grew up in Washington State, which everyone thinks is super rainy, but that’s only the western part. I grew up in the eastern part, where it’s remarkably dry (we’re basically neighbors to a desert). But I went to college and then subsequently lived in Western Washington, and I just love the rain there. I also love the rain in North Carolina. While Western Washington rain is the tortoise (slow and steady for about nine months out of the year), the rain in NC means BUSINESS. I love how hard it rains here. And for all you folks who don’t like getting wet, here’s a quote from my wife’s grandma: “I won’t melt. I’m not made of sugar.”

Local artist (any genre) you admire My instinct is to name my wife, Ella Wrenn, because theatre administrators–ie, the ones who HIRE all the artists–don’t get nearly enough credit. But I’ve been told that I’m not allowed to choose her, so I’m going to go with Marc de la Concha. He’s the Director of Education at Cape Fear Regional Theatre, and I am simply astounded by the work he does. The talent he fosters, the productions he creates, and the classes he offers… it’s incredible. THEN you add on top of that his live performances (did y’all see “Shrek”?) – I can’t get through a performance with Marc in it without crying. Either he’s so moving and truthful that it moves my soul, or he’s so flipping funny that my eyes leak with laughter. That man is a gem, and we are so lucky to have him in this town.

What is one of your current artistic experiments? I currently work at The Sweet Palette, peddling cupcakes. I just sell them–I am not nearly talented enough to make them. But the reason I even got this job was because they have this incredible gallery/performance space, and CFRT did a show there that I was in, and so I got to know them over a few weeks. When they started getting more business after Covid and needed more staff, they hired me to sling desserts, with the goal that we could really start using their gallery to its full potential. I’m really excited about what we can start hosting in that space, and what creativity will be born in that room.

What changed about your practice in 2020? Will you keep this change? Man. Everything changed. I felt like I was really gaining momentum and making headway into the voiceover industry, and then Covid hit, and every single film and stage actor turned to the only thing that was still available: voiceover. The demand stayed the same, and the supply skyrocketed. I had to get *gasp* a “real” job. That job was terrible terrible (don’t worry, it wasn’t Sweet Palette), and it was honestly a pretty bad time to be an actor. My hope is that I can merge this current position at Sweet Palette to cultivate more creativity.

photo credit courtesy of Abacus Entertainment

Where do you practice your art? Describe your work space. The most work I do is in my “booth”. It’s the closet of our guest room, and I’ve converted it into a recording studio. I’ve padded the walls, trying to dampen the sound, and have set up my little nest in there. It’s janky, and I love it. 

How do you find your subject (next piece, idea, voice)? This is still in flux, and I think it might be for a while. Adapting is never easy, but it’s always necessary. I’m just trying to keep my eyes and ears open for new opportunities, now that the world is starting to open up. My guess is that it will be a partnership with Sweet Palette and their space, and we create something together.

Advice to newer artists in your genre. Listen, and be humble. The minute you think you know better than someone is the minute you become unpleasant to work with. Every person you encounter is an opportunity to learn, as long as you listen to them. 

Guiding Light: Brian Adam Kline

Brian Adam Kline is a director of film and theater, Artistic Director of Chameleon Children’s Theatre, and, perhaps most importantly, the theater teacher at The Capitol Encore Academy, where he brings his passion for enlightenment to his lucky students.

What does success mean to you?

Success to me is how I feel as a person, where I am as a human being. Success is measured on how you help other people, how you encourage young people who are going through the same things that you did. I don’t think that success is necessarily measured in awards or in money or what other people think. I think that to a degree that has something to do with it, but I myself measure success as Am I where I should be at this moment?

When you feel there is a disconnect, “no, I don’t feel like I’m being particularly successful,” What then? How do you look ahead and go, “well, what do I need to do to change that?

Well, I’m all about the journey. I’m all about the process and not the product. I say that all the time to my students: it’s the process, not the product. If you look at the product, you get in a lot of danger; no one knows what’s going to happen. So I try to embrace the process more if I’m working on a children’s show, right. And things are not right. I don’t dare think about opening night right now. I’m thinking about where we are right now, how we improve ourselves, are the kids having fun? Am I having fun? Are we learning? Are they being artistically expressive? Am I being artistically expressive with them?

I think we’ve all seen that image of the iceberg: the bottom of the iceberg, it’s really deep and you see all of the things underwater that an artist goes through like rejection. Then you see the top of the iceberg: awards, money, applause. Those things everyone sees, but they don’t actually see what’s really below. Art is not instant. I like to give a Renaissance example: Michelangelo worked on the Sistine chapel for years. I’m just amazed by that, by the fact that somebody worked on and off for that many years to complete a project.

What changes do you seek to make with your art?

I want to educate everybody. It’s just that the level of that education is different. For instance, if I’m teaching a theater class to first graders, that’s going to be a lot different if I’m working in New York City with a group of actors trained at conservatory. Even if I’m on a set with adult actors, or experienced kids, I still want them to learn something.

I want people to be enlightened as much as I am. Enlightenment is key. Not just the people I work with, but the audience, too, I want to enlighten them. Even if I’m doing a piece that might not seem too much of an enlightenment piece, I think that there’s always something that we can find in there. In everything that I do, whether a children’s show or a film with adult actors, I want the people I’m working with to feel enlightened and to learn something and take something from the project.

Everything’s a stepping stone, it just keeps going up and up and up. I didn’t see it before, but I see it now that I’ve worked with some of these students for 10 years. I get to see how far they go. I have a student who I’ve known since she was maybe 11 or 12 years old and she just graduated with BFA in acting, which is the same degree I have. It’s so cool to see her take that journey. I didn’t see that as a young acting teacher in the beginning. I didn’t see the importance of that and the evolution of that.

I feel like I’m making a change through education primarily because whenever a student wants to come back, or is excited, or they talk about your class, or they talk about a play that we’ve done. I’ve gotten messages on Instagram from students who moved because of the military and then I’ll get random message thanking me for “Peter Pan” that we did four years ago. That’s proof that I’m making some type of change. I want students to feel that no matter what race, what gender, what sexual preference, what nationality they have, I want them all to feel they are worthy and they can do anything. They really can do anything. And theater and film is such a great vehicle for that.

Kline (kneeling front left) and Houck (front right) with the cast and crew of “Love and Coffee”

How have you construct the bridges of your career?

As a kid, as a teenager, I used to think about “how am I going to become the next Steven Spielberg?” And the thing is, you cannot do that. You just can’t. You can’t be sitting around and waiting for it to happen either: you have to find a balance. And so I started discovering that balance. I’m finding that if I work really hard on each project, then more things come. People will hear about your work.

I’m from a very small town and film making was very expensive back then. I actually had an opportunity in high school. The librarian received a grant and she bought a camera that you had to use a cord that went to the back of the computer with it and you would have to press play and then press record on the computer. And she stopped me in the hallway one day and asked, “Aren’t you the kid that makes movies with your parents’ RCA camera?” So the librarian offered to let me use this equipment. And I just went crazy casting high school friends. We were making sci-fi films. We were making horror films. We were doing exactly what I wanted to do as an adult.

When I went to college, a similar thing happened: they had camera equipment which I would use. So I got to practice. I went to school for theater because at West Virginia University they had a theater program, but not a film program. So I sort of did my own independent studies through filmmaking. And then everything I learned in theater class–acting or lighting or makeup or sound–I took advantage of that and took those elements of theater and used them in my filmmaking.

I worked at The Cameo and Lynn Prior, the founder of the Gilbert Theatre, heard about me. He met me, he introduced me to Robyne Parrish, then the new Artistic Director. She puts me into education there at the theater. I start directing plays. And then I started directing bigger plays. And then, CFRT asked me to do work for them. I’m now working with Sweet Tea Shakespeare. So if you focus really hard on what you’re currently doing, others see it, and then things will– as they say– blow up.

Now, Michael [Houck] heard about me through the Gilbert and actually we ended up producing and I directed a film called “Love and Coffee”, which was based on one of his plays at Gilbert. So that is kind of how those things happen now. You should just work really hard where you are, and then things start coming to you. Sometimes you just start your own set. The Chameleon Children’s Theatre I started because I had a space at school, all these resources, I had kids that wanted to do theater. So you start your own thing.

Has there ever been an idea pitched or an opportunity that you were like this is too scary, I can’t do this right now. Or I’m scared out of my wits, but I’m going to try this.

I usually say yes unless I feel that it will not allow me to grow. I mean, it’s not the size of the project; I have said yes to really small projects. But if it’s something that I cannot grow in, then it’s not something that I should do now. There are some things that I could have grown in and then I made the decision not to do it. And it was a mistake that I didn’t say yes. One example is an opportunity to be in a film that was being shot in Atlanta. I was gonna have this really small role. I was much younger and said no to it, because I would have to drive to Atlanta, I’d have to take off of work and all this stuff. And that was something I regretted.

But I’ve also said yes to things like that. A few years ago, I got the opportunity to work on a movie called “She’s Out of My League” in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It’s on Netflix now and it’s so cool to see something like that. It opened up a lot of doors for me. Sometimes you make mistakes by not thinking the right things. And then sometimes you take a chance. I don’t necessarily use the word regret often. I think that every mistake you make is actually sort of a step. It makes you stronger, you know?

Who do you consider your present artistic cohort?

Well, I want to first start out by saying that Gustavo is a writing partner and love of my life. Then, professionally, Robyne Parrish is my fairy godmother. She is wonderful. She basically was the head of the transition from me being a student, not making any money, doing everything free to actually feeling that I had professional potential. She still does that for me, makes me feel that way. My second one: Mikey is so amazing to work with. I love how we produce things together. He helps me with projects. I help him with projects. He’s a wonderful writer and he knows how to make a screenplay just perfect enough to where it can be handed to me. Our working relationship is just fantastic. And he’s a great friend too. Third, is Gerard Falls, the director of The Capitol Encore Academy. He’s just a huge pusher for me to keep me going. He’s a big supporter of the theater company. Fourthly, Nicki Hart, she’s an actress and we’ve worked on I think, six projects now, and we just have this really great director-actor chemistry. She’s sort of like Tom Hanks to my Steven Spielberg or Uma to Quentin. And then the other artistic directors in town, Jeremy Fiebig and Mary Kate Burke; they’ve just been so wonderful on keeping me involved. I really do appreciate what they’ve done for me. And then just the other artists in Fayetteville, there’s so many, from the six year olds to the 60 year olds. There’s so many people that I’ve worked with in town and then there’s so many people that I haven’t quite got the chance to that I really would like to.

Through Observation and Experimentation, Blanca LaCortiglia Blossoms

Blanca LaCortiglia is a painter and an arts administrator. Her work has been published in magazines, a book, and featured in a podcast. She has a BA in Arts Studios and a MA in Arts Administration. Her work has been showcased in solo, group, and juried exhibitions. Blanca is passionate about arts education and has hosted a variety of art workshops and has taught pre-K. She has curated art exhibitions in a gallery setting and has worked at a museum. She is a mixed media artist who enjoys exploring a variety of styles and techniques. Blanca describes her art as Frankenstein, which is dreamy, surreal, and abstract, as her pieces are all different and she doesn’t just fit in one category.

3 things you can’t live without and why Well, I can’t live without ART! I know what a surprise lol. I seriously need the arts in my life because I have no idea who or what I would be without it. I was born and raised in The Bronx. I used to hop on the train as a teenager and visit art galleries, museums, and any public art featured in the city. It kept me sane and happy. I participated in plays, dances, art clubs and much more. The arts have always been in my life. I couldn’t be me without it!

I love Jolly Ranchers. It’s the only candy I can’t live without. They’re so tasty and crunchy. I can knock out all my work with some hard candy crunching in my mouth.

I need my water! I love drinking water. It keeps my body feeling great. To me water is such an essential element in life. It helps plants grow, it keeps humans healthy, and you know, keeps living things alive. Water is so underrated. I love you water!

Local Artist you admire: Damien Mathis. I’ve never met him, but I’ve seen his work and I like it!

What is one of your current artistic experiments? Ok. I’ve been working at this FOR YEARS! I still am trying to develop a better way of showcasing my 3-D flowers made from acrylic paint. Most people want me to use clay and other mediums that are obviously 3-dimensional. I am obsessed with paint so I’m always going to stretch it to its limits. I’m hoping to one day make a huge piece with over 100 handmade flowers from acrylic paint! This will be a long process since it takes about four days for the paint to cure. In other words, each acrylic flower takes up to four days to dry. Talk about having patience.

What changed about your practice in 2020? Will you keep this change? I had the biggest artist block EVER.  It was bad. I was able to create a few paintings in 2020 but I usually create a lot more. I wasn’t inspired. As I mentioned before I need to see art and be around art. It was difficult not experiencing the art scene. I will not keep this artist block. In fact I hope to create a lot more art in the future so stay tuned!

Where do you practice your art? Describe your work space. My workspace is a combination of a lot of paint and canvases around. I have a beautiful window that provides lots of sunlight for me and my plants. I am currently updating my furniture and will be working on a couple of murals in my space. My goal is to make it edgy, fun, and inspirational! I have the best studio space at home…

How do you find your subject? I am such a weird person. I can be driving, talking to someone, or looking at the sky and bam an idea comes to mind. I usually have to write it down, so I won’t forget it. Beach trips always help me feel relaxed and thus leads to inspiration. My studio space hands down is my cozy spot where I can doodle and sit on my grey couch and daydream (I’ve had this couch for years, it’s my fav).  

Advice to newer artists in your genre? Just paint! I know, I know art supplies can be expensive, but you need to paint. I usually use my “ugly paintings” and repaint over them to make a messier painting. After the damage is done, I move on to the next one. Keep going and don’t stop. Not all pieces are going to be your favorite, but you never know who might want that one piece you don’t like. The more you practice your art the closer you will be to achieving the look that you want. I dare say you will also discover who you are as an artist. Make time for your paint and the paint will love you back.

On Scraps and Sketchbooks: Textile Artist Katherine Matos-Gonzalez

Katherine Matos-Gonzalez is a multidisciplinary artist and textile designer from Brooklyn, New York and currently residing in Cumberland County. She holds a BFA in Art and Design Education from Pratt Institute and an AAS and BFA in Textile and Surface Design from the Fashion Institute of Technology.

She has a passion to teach and learn. And her deep love for textiles and fibers has taken over her current art practice. She is a self-taught quilter and enjoys the improvisational method of creating patchworks. Her work is inspired by the juxtaposition of the abstract shapes, color and texture within her hand-dyed fabrics and the more rigid patterns of the patchwork. Katherine creates to ease the clutter in her mind and space, this process brings her peace, calm and creative resolution. She likes to “see what happens” with her fiber pieces. Venmo & Paypal: Katherine-Matos-Gonzalez

3 Things you can’t live without & why: Creatively speaking I CAN NOT live without my two senior dogs, sewing machine, and sketchbook. My two old men keep me company while I play away on my sewing machine and my sketchbook is near and dear to my heart. It contains so many ideas for future making.

Local artist (any genre, Cumberland County preferred) you admire: I haven’t had the opportunity to meet local artists, but  the artwork on display in the Public Arts shows is inspiring me to creatively connect with fellow artists.

What is one of your current artistic experiments? Painting future or imaginary quilt designs using opaque watercolors in my sketchbook.

What changed about your practice in 2020? Will you keep this change? Simply, I make more. Being homebound at the peak of Covid I discovered that gaining access to a variety of art classes and workshops was actually a lot easier. It’s always been a pleasure of mine to continue learning and gaining skills. And through zoom and other platforms I managed to take classes from around the country! I’ve always loved to supplement my creativity with the help of other creatives and this really helped my productivity and creativity. I also have the great privilege of having a spare room that I turned into a studio where I have my own space to make, freelance…  and keep a portion of my plant collection! My dogs also love the futon I apparently got for them. I will definitely try my hardest to continue learning and making in this new space of mine. 

How do you find your subject (next piece, idea, voice)? Rummaging through my collection of hand-made (woven, embroidered, silkscreened) hand-dyed fabrics, yarns and thread help me with my next piece. Looking at art history books and vintage textile art technique books are quite helpful as well.

Advice to newer artists in your genre. Don’t stop learning, use what you have to create, and save your scraps!

Roxanne Rothenberger Embodies Determination in Painting, Work, and Home

photo credit Jenifer Fennell photography

Roxanne Rothenberger was born in 1980 and grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico. As a girl, she was heavily influenced by the Chicano-Art movement of the early 90’s. Finding constant inspiration in it’s alluring mix of aesthetic value and cultural representation. Her first exposure to traditional drawing and painting techniques came at the hands of the US Army, where she served 8 years in a lesser known MOS of 25M, or Multimedia Illustration. She continued her education with an AOS in Computer Animation but found that the digital art world did not satisfy her need to be a tangible artist. Seeking a more tactile expression, she soon found herself concentrating on painting. In 2016 Roxanne took over as studio manager at Wine & Design, Fayetteville and her painting blossomed into a productive commissioned art business. 

Roxanne builds her work through continuous study of the human form and her subject’s emotional environment. Seeking to place her figures in an state of their own creation, Roxanne relies heavily on interview and intuition. When working on commissioned portraits, she strives to capture her subject’s warmth as well as aesthetic qualities. Working in both oil and acrylic paint, she tries to harness each medium’s specific merits to evoke excitement from the viewer. An underlying current of movement can be found in most of her work and it is intended to both intrigue and unbalance the viewer.

Roxanne currently teaches oil painting and drawing at Fayetteville Technical Community College. Additionally, she is available for commission work.

Three things you cannot live without & why: 

  • God’s grace and a pocket sized Bible. I find I need to reference it daily…trying to be a better person. It is a journey, and I am not anywhere near done. 
  • At least one audiobook and a few library books. I listen to the audiobooks while I work and enjoy the physical books whenever I get moments to myself.
  • My broken yoga practice. I am relatively new to it (only practicing a year) and I know enough to know that I know NOTHING! The act of turning my focus into my body helps me to compartmentalize and focus. 

Local artist (any genre, Cumberland County preferred) you admire: Tiffany Ragin is a local artist who also does figurative painting. I find joy in her work, her use of color is explosive and invigorating. Additionally, her paintings explore femininity and faith, two things that are not easily discussed together. 

What is one of your current artistic experiments? I am currently working on a body of work that combines byzantine religious iconography and realism with modern symbolism. 

What changed about your practice in 2020? Will you keep this change? In 2020 I was commissioned to paint quite a few memorial paintings. Portraits of loved ones that have passed on. I found so much peace and solace in working on those portraits. I’m hoping to do more of them, I am extremely honored when somebody asks me to memorialize love one.

photo credit Jenifer Fennell photography

Where do you practice your art? Describe your work space. My studio is a room right off the kitchen. I work in spurts, as I am a wife and mother of two young children. I only have 20 to 30 minutes at a time to get work done. My current piece is in my line of sight all day long, I walk by it and look at it and make decisions while I’m vacuuming, doing dishes, making food etc. And then when I finally have a moment to paint, I don’t waste any time. Because I’ve spent all day making plans on what I’m going to do. By doing this, I find that the 30 minutes that I get in front of the canvas, is extremely productive.

How do you find your subject (next piece, idea, voice)? I get inspired by looking at other peoples work and art history. I enjoy learning the historical background of a particular piece. I am intrigued by the context of a painting, the political and cultural state that painting was created in. To me, a painting is a mirror of the time and place it was created in. I find so much inspiration from artists who have come before me. 

Advice to newer artists in your genre: My advice to newer artists is to trust your instincts and don’t be afraid to fail. There is so much learned when you make mistakes. You have to paint the bad paintings and draw the horrible drawings. It is that work that will make you a great artist. Keep pushing through, keep painting. Every time you make a mistake, you learn something! It’s not about creating one amazing painting; it’s about creating 30 mediocre pieces, to hone your abilities, then using all that you have learned through trial and error to finally create real beauty. The piece that you create after all that will be infinitely more powerful and insightful, because you will have earned it.

Also, to let go of your ego. Nothing will keep you stuck in a rut and unable to grow as an artist, more than your ego.

Michael Curtis Houck Comes Home to Writing and Film

Michael Curtis Houck is the Creative Producer for A Yellow Beanie Project, a digital collective rooted in collaboration among regional artists with intent to provide a new platform for emerging and established voices within the Cumberland County community. Michael’s produced and published work can be found in print, on stage, and on the screen. Michael lives in Fayetteville, NC, with his significant other and two kids and two dogs and one cat and too many plants, some would argue. To financially support his work, use Cashapp $AYellowBeanieProject and watch for a Patreon account coming soon.

on set for LOVE, LUCY a short horror comedy that is currently in post production. Marc de la Concha and Tori Gowland Ortiz de Rosas. co-directed with Ashley Owen

3 Things you can’t live without & why:

Music. The world is a noisy place and often it’s too much to handle and I need to drown it out. I always have background music. Some days I need Nina Simone, some days I need Fugazi.

Kindness. The last few years have uncovered a lot of (not so) hidden ugly in the world. Stop.

Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches. When you really, honestly, truly examine the science of it, it’s the perfect meal.

Local artist (any genre, Cumberland County preferred) you admire: There’s a local singer-songwriter I really admire and love working with: Ayana Laurene. She’s a hustler and, dang, does she have some pipes. We’ve been collaborating on a concert film/documentary called BOY, YOU AIN’T SHIT. It’ll come out this summer on social media.

Houck and Jordan Barnett on set for an episode of DOGWOOD; this episode is directed by Alason Little.

What is one of your current artistic experiments? Right now I’m developing a digital series called DOGWOOD, which aims to put a spotlight on some southern themes. This series is coming together sort of like an extended universe set in the fictional town of Dogwood, NC, and it will include eight short films and weekly podcast episodes and live video streams across social media starting in July 2021. It’s a really big experiment and kind of daunting! The Yellow Beanie team and I have been working really hard for a few months building the fictional world of Dogwood, writing all original content including original music, and *fingers crossed* we’ll produce an original theatre piece later this year!

What changed about your practice in 2020? Will you keep this change? 2020 pushed me from working exclusively in live events, which I had been doing for nearly a decade as a full time job, to just written and filmed works; like the rest of the world, this was due to safety of public gatherings. It was a sudden ‘stop and change what you’re doing’, and I did go through a period of grief. But what this forced me to do is find other outlets and return to my foundations: I went to school for creative writing and film. Coming back to this kind of work that I haven’t done in a decade has been therapeutic for me. In hindsight, I don’t know why I ever walked away from this genre, it is my language.

Still from DOGWOOD. With Sarah Chapman and Malissa Borden

Where do you practice your art? Describe your work space. I consider my art to start with what I write: It all begins on the page. I believe in having a farmed yard, so I spend a lot of time outside and I write while gardening: standing up or crawling around in the dirt, talking out loud. I need to feel the space around me and imagine how the characters would contort their bodies or gesticulate when saying something. When I like what I have in my head, I take a break and hop inside to my office and jot it down in one of my many notebooks or turn on a recorder and play out the scene.

How do you find your subject (next piece, idea, voice)? Most of my work begins with collaboration. I admire a lot of locals, and there are many folx I’ve never had the chance to work with professionally. I really enjoy approaching these people asking, “Want to make something?”

Advice to newer artists in your genre.

For newer writers – workshop those pages! Get with some friends and share your work. Schedule a table read. Trick people into coming over for brunch then slide your manuscript around. They’re trapped. Make them read. It took me a long time to be comfortable having my work read aloud, but what a difference it makes!

For newer filmmakers – you are likely reading this article from a device that has a high powered camera installed on it. What’s stopping you?

Guiding Light: Yolanda “Yogii with 2 i’s” Barnes

Photo Credit James Bass

I first heard Yolanda “Yogii with 2 i’s” Barnes do an extemporaneous motivational speech at El’Ja Bowen’s 3:10 book reading at the Arts Council downtown. Her stories trilled, dipped, pushed, and pulled. She was mesmerizing. So it was no surprise to find out her background with Toastmasters and she was obviously ingrained into the local slam poetry scene. But the more you talk to Yogii, the more expansive you realize her artwork is. And her community. And her heart.

El’Ja was kind enough to provide her intro: Yolanda A. Barnes aka Yogii With 2 I’s is an award winning Spoken Word artist, painter, and workshop facilitator. She is credited for being the first Fayetteville poet to compete in a major regional slam competition that in turn brought the city of Fayetteville visible to the Poetry Slam world. She is also the author of the book, “Y Aren’t U Listening” and the owner of Inspired Ink Creative Consulting.

What does success mean to you?

Success to me is definitely being able to not only grow myself, but to have the ones around me grow as well. So if there’s no growth in me and there’s no growth for the people around me, I’m not successful. I love being able to walk around and see all the seeds that have been planted–whether they were intentional or unintentional–and everything they have produced in the harvest; it’s been amazing. Success to me is just being able to not only do well for me, but to do well for the people around me and my community: as big as slam coming to Fayetteville on a national scene and to as small as my daughter passing her EOGs, and everything in between. 

Success is definitely not just a singular thing for me. It’s a group effort. I can’t tell you how many babies –I call all the poets, babies–how many poets I have named, or how many poets I have given counsel to, or how many poets have just come to just sit near me at a show just because, they didn’t want anything, they just wanted to sit there. Then they grow out and branch off into these trees, these teams, they leave the state, they go do other things, but that stem is still rooted, what they learned. And those are things that are beautiful to me. 

Becoming a mother with a preemie baby– now a vibrant creative tween– changed how Yogii thought of success and her own artistic practice. 

I was no longer Yogii the poet that I had been prior. My complete and utter life flipped on its head. I felt the death of me. I felt like my voice was no longer the same as it was before. I honestly was grappling with how do I become this mother? And how do I continue to live in the shell of what I was? And there’s no real way to do that. The butterfly doesn’t have a choice of staying kind of in. And so I had no choice but to become that butterfly. It’s still every day deciding to be that butterfly and not go back to the Caterpillar.

But I got a chance to see myself and to deal with me in a way that helps me grow and become more successful in the process. It was different; my poetry was different. I was everything from angry to sad to hopeful and yet melancholy at the same time. It was just a mix of things that I hadn’t felt all at one time. Some days are better than others, but I’m better for that process everyday.

Photo Credit Eric L. Brim

What changes in your audience do you seek to make with your art? 

I love being the person that teaches without people knowing I’m teaching them. I don’t want to be the person that’s like, “Hey, you gotta do this and you gotta do that” because people don’t learn that way. But if I can get you to laugh and we can talk and have a conversation, and then I can hit you with a question every now and again, and then I can give you a long pregnant pause for you to think about some things, and then we come back and talk about it again later. If my art does that, in a poem or on canvas or my mannequins or different avenues, various techniques and skill sets, to make you look, and then look again and then make you wonder. I think if my art doesn’t make you wonder, if my art doesn’t make you sit quietly and reflect, then I’m not doing something right, because I need you to go within yourself and say, “how do I feel about that?” Or even just want to think about that. Cause a lot of people don’t have time and don’t make time. And that is one of those things that I want for my art to do, if it’s singing, if it’s rapping, if it’s painting, if it’s drawing, whatever it is that I’m doing, if I can get you just to say, “how does that relate to me?” That’s when I’m hitting on something.

How have you constructed the bridges of your career?

Honestly, I was doing a certain thing by accident back in the day: categorizing people. So if you know me from poetry, then I’m not going to put you in my art realm or I’m not going to put you in my music route. But I didn’t realize the six degrees of separation is real. And because it is so real, when I would put people in those different categories and people would know each other from those different categories, they’d be like, “well you mean Yogii the poet?”

And they’d be like, no, I mean, the artist, 

no, you mean the singer, 

but like, no you mean the girl that works at Belk.” 

Somebody told me “you wrote a book, I don’t even know why you didn’t tell me.” Well, you’re not in that box, you know? But that’s how that works and now people want to know more about my work.

Another thing I did was I wanted to prove things to myself. When I went to Southern Fried Poetry, I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know it was the second largest national poetry festival. I had no idea. I just put my money up and decided to go. I didn’t tell anybody. Finally, I told El’Ja, “You need to see this.” It was like the last two days of competition, the day before the final stage, and he knew a lot of the people there. I didn’t hardly know anybody, but I wanted it that way. I was trying to prove to myself that I was not wasting my time by writing poetry, by being just who I was. I was proving to myself that it wasn’t a waste of time. And I think for me, a lot of things that I have done and still do to this day are just to prove a point to myself. 

A lot of times, too, for me, it takes a contest. When I wrote my first book, I put it up for a contest. So Fried, that was a contest. The wire dress was for a contest. Sometimes that extra push of a contest makes it even more exciting: just being able to know that it can be done, even if I don’t know anything about it, makes it even more amazing.

And I pivot myself into positions that have always been able to bridge me into the next thing. People don’t believe it, but sometimes you just gotta go, you gotta do. Because if you’re in that space, they will see you and they will wonder about you and they will make room for your talents. I continue to put myself in places that most people wouldn’t even dare, just because they thought they wouldn’t make it in that space. I’m in that space and you’re going to see me. 

Photo Credit Eric L. Brim

Who do you consider your present artistic cohort? 

I have been going to writing workshops during this whole pandemic: Cultivating Content, Craft, and Conversation by Christine-Jean Blain and Kimberley Gaubault. It’s open with donation for anybody to come to the workshop. They are amazing: they push and they question and they give the best prompts. When I’m there in that virtual space, I feel free. I can write, I can really just put pen to pad: whatever comes out comes out. I give them a lot of credit for creating that space. There’s other workshops I’ve gone to and I have my own artists’ retreats where I work with people. But for me, for that release, yeah, that does it. 

Right now I’m focused on writing, but when summer hits, I go back into painting because I can be outside. I can’t wait to get on canvas cause I want to practice more with watercolors. I have lots of visions in my mind, so I want to get those down. Usually I cycle a year creatively, so when I can get outside, that’s usually the time I paint and when it’s cold outside is when I’m inside, working on next year’s plans or writing and doing things.