Listen to the latest news, interviews and analysis from the world of visual and performing arts. Sourced from leading podcasts and talk radio shows.
A highlight from 777: The Lightkeeper
"Freedom, and how to hold on to it. And I think of my friend T, who, if I'm anxious or too serious about my obligations, is always determined to make me celebrate. She won't let me take joy for granted. Even if sometimes I start going, okay, this happened. Let's start planning. She will text me in all caps, but this is so exciting. She won't let me forgo my joy. Even when I'm trying to worry myself into a lather about this or that. Those people, those people who can remind you of how to face the world, live in the world, are so important. Each time I stop and cook a meal, even a simple one, if I really enjoy it, by turning on the music and dancing in the kitchen, making it fun. Making it feel like the end of one part of the day and the beginning of another part of the day, I feel as if my mother and my stepmom are with me. My grandparents, too. It isn't always the big lessons that stick with me. But a way of being. I want to be someone that savers this life. And I have been encouraged all my life by my best ones to do just that. Today's poem, honor someone, and the lesson they offered. I love how this poem feels like a way of thanking the person, but also of thinking the light itself. The light keeper, by Carolyn forche. A night without ships. Foghorns calling into walled cloud, and you still alive. Drawn to the light as if it were a fire kept by monks. Darkness once crusted with stars, but now death dark, as you sail inward. Through wild gorse and sea rack, through Heather and torn wool, you ran, pulling me by the hand, so I might see this for once in my life. The spin and spin of light, the whirring of it, light in search of the lost, there, since the era of fire, era of candles, and hollow wick lamps, whale oil, and solid wick calls are enlarged, kerosene and carbide. The signal fires lighted on this perilous coast in the tower of hook. You say to me, stay awake. Be like the lens maker who died with his lungs full of glass, be the you in blossom when bees swarm. Be their amber cathedral, and even the ghosts of cistercians will be kind to you. In a certain light, as after rain, in pearled clouds, or the water beyond, seen or sensed water, sea or Lake. You would stop still, and gaze out for a long time. Also, when fireflies opened and closed in the pines, and a star appeared, our only heaven. You taught me to live like this. That after death it would be, as it was before we were born. Nothing to be afraid. Nothing but happiness, as unbearable as the dread from which it comes. Go toward the light, always. Be without ships. The slowdown is a production of American public media, in partnership with the poetry foundation.
A highlight from (Episode 336) "Adventures in Babysitting" Actor: Keith Coogan.
"Babysitting. And this is only the beginning. The front is dead. Chris can handle it. Sarah's probably paying for the rats to find out. Hold on. I'm still in control here. You could say they were having a bad night. The problems? No, not really. If they weren't having such a good time. Adventures in babysitting. You can still have asked me to babysit again. If they do I'd ask them for a buck more an hour. Hi, this is Keith coogan and you're listening to Monday morning critic podcast. So there's a lot I want to ask you, I will condense it for your sanity. Looking through your filmography, Keith, I forgot how freaking strong it was. Like I knew it was solid. But when you really examine and research somebody and take a deep dive into their life, in your case, it's like, I forgot a lot of this. I mean, I knew it. I mean, I grew up on it, but it's like, I'm sure you haven't, I'm not the first person that's ever told you that. My family said to you, ever want to get hot because then you could go cold. And they said, just be warm. Have you for your whole life? Have just had a warm career. And honestly, if you're just lucky enough to get in and get a job in this business, it's amazing. But I did lock out on being a bunch of iconic TV shows. And then when I did the movie, these are made at a time where there was a line of in theaters, and then direct to video. And you knew when you were working on something that was going to go straight to cable or because there was like this line. Right. That now they move the move the line on people after they shoot now. They don't know if it's going to be on HBO Max or in the theaters or shown, you know, it's going to display at the gas station. I'm a little pump. And so doing the even the kind of hard scrap lower budget I got to work like on a new world picture. And New Line Cinema in their earlier days and that it well, first of all, it's fun. It's really, really fun to make a movie. I have to say. But I had a good fortune to work with really fun people, not just on the Christina applegates and Elizabeth shoes and Anthony raps. But John cryer and William Peterson and Lloyd Bridges and truly cool calves even on the lower feet like the pythons and the downhill Willy had Lachlan Monroe. Python had Billy Zabka and will Wheaton. And really fun, you know, it's the people, it's the friends we made along the way. Yeah, yeah. It's well said, you know, and the other thing that I realized too is and I'm sure this is like people watching this or hearing this or like, but it's almost like you're a big part of people for me growing up. You're such a part of these crucial moments in television and movies that like, I don't want to say movies raised because I had wonderful parents. But I kind of was raised by movies and TV if we're being honest. Like I loved it. And you were the, this is gonna sound such fanboy into a cheesy, but you were there every step of the way. I just think I just think that's a really cool thing to be on that end if I can't speak for you, but I can certainly say that looking at your work, we'll dive into a few entries, but like, man, you were there for the whole ride. That's awesome of you to say. That it's funny when they're often wasn't a connect to the TV work is like 7 and 8, 9 years old or whatever connected to being 17, 18 or 19 years old. They'd make it go, oh yeah, you were that kid that was on TV all the time. But there wasn't like this direct connection and I was hoping there wasn't too much. You never want to get known for one. We're never want to be unhappy days and that's it. You're rich in Cunningham for the rest of your life. You can't do another show. You're the fonts. Henry Winkler. He said it was 20 years before anyone would call him for a job. And so that was that be unrecognizable from picture to picture, dye your hair, cut it, limp. Whatever it is, I would love diving into characters which always are serving the piece and the story. And I think that the stories were.
A highlight from 776: Bonfire Brides
"My best friend growing up, Sarah, was the best confidant, a girl could have. Funny and kind and supportive. We lays in the creeks by my house in the valley, or play in the shaded creek by her house in the hills, or climb the oaks to pick mistletoe, or talk for hours, as we'd walk my yellow lab dusty through the streets of Sonoma, California. Just two days ago, she called me and said, I'm in town, and I'm walking down dusty's path, and I thought I should call you because I am on dusty's path. And it made me tear up. Here we are. 46 now. And still we hold each other, and our shared past, so dearly. Today's poem is a tribute to those early kinships and how it's not only the memories that are important, but the fact that they are shared in the hearts of our beloveds. Bonfire brides, by felica, hicks. The embers of a thousand years, uncovered, by the hand. That fondled them when they were fire. We'll stir and understand. From Emily Dickinson's 1383. Remember when we hurried ourselves into the evening's sacral blaze, our coal covered bridal gowns drenched in the long silver of our mother's ears. Our hearts ceaselessly sucking on their stars long dead. Our laughter, pouring out of us, like a sacrifice to age and weather. If we had known what lay beyond the gates of our hooded child. Would we have even left? Would we have so happily run into the inflamed morning with our fists and query and hunger, should we have stayed? Sister, do you remember when we wanted God? Were all tendril, sweet cheeked, for heaven. Do you remember when we were sick with Bible verses and hymns? Our mouths overcome with hallelujah? Our mouths slowly sewn into the crooked neck of every sunset. Do you remember the place where we laid down our child shapes and grew out our hair? Yours and unrelenting wave slipped from the bed of your precious scalp down into the looped bone of your back, mine, a cacophony of glitter and grease, leaping from the barrel of my hungry scalp to arrive, restlessly around the pillars of my ears. Do you remember the place where we skipped two girls chasing themselves across the lakes green and warm lid off into the untested fields of Prairie grass and unchecked verbena? The place. Remember, where we learned the dissonant lean of every foot worn into the unpaved pathways. Somewhere, outside of Dallas, where we skinned our knees, running after pink biscuit kisses, from sun tzu, back then, hung up praise before our names. Where I buried my first did. A bird, I found. At the Lake house. Where we swore, never to be, like our mothers, or our fathers. Where we swore, under God's morning light, to be more like the comets falling in our cabins, night after night. Do you remember where, together, we came from a yard full of Jesus, where he was under every wooden plank. Every split stone, always guaranteed, to follow us home. Jesus, we thought we'd have more time. Jesus. What happened to time? I blinked, and we were in love, then out of love, then child shaped again, then not, then the both of us alone. Together. The both of us crying into the empty of our kitchen sinks.
A highlight from 775: A Case Study of Beethoven's Nine Symphonies
"It's hard for me to write while music is playing. It's not that I don't love music. It's maybe that I love it too much. It takes over. It's all there is. One minute, I'm finding a song, and the next minute I'm singing full throated in the kitchen so loudly, even the neighbors can hear me. Music and poetry are inextricably linked. What we do in a poem is make room for all the music on the page, the harmony, the melody, the bridge, and so on. But we have language and form to make that happen. Not a full orchestra. Today's poem honors one of the greatest composers of all time. And it also honors the relationship between music and poetry. A case study of Beethoven's 9 symphonies. By Keisha, castle. One. What if I told you not a single war happens dramatically? Not the wars in your home. Nor the wars on your body were all capable of violence, of destroying every one in our path for pure pleasure. Of dismantling our bodies, limb by limb until their less shameful, a vessel, someone would be willing to hold. Brutality, ravages, slowly. It is aided by proximity. Not a single war happens dramatically. Two. Tongues are heavy. And mine keeps tripping over the language of being alive. This is the part where I gnaw on my tongue until it falls from my mouth. Three. Aurora. The state, saying her war songs, and lying dormant in her belly was an aria that rang out like a tech through the air, leaving the town square, bathed in the blood of her enemies. What did you expect? Don't speak ill of the dead. There were no eyed geologies to reject no memories to repress always the son and never the moon only hurt people hurt people. Don't speak ill of the dead. 5. Transfiguration transformation. I am a statement of contempt. Content with ugliness. I am a sight of loss. I am a sight of abundance. I am a study of how institutions wreak havoc. I am stagnant. I am of the state. 6. Anti pastoral. You want me to be gentle, to grab these men by the collar, dragging them through the mud until there's something worth looking at, speak softer, wear yellows, lure them with a smile, let them eat from
A highlight from (Episode 335) "The Sandman" Actor: Lloyd Everitt. (Hector Hall).
"Know mom is Jamaican and your dad is Welsh. I've been watching this show on Apple TV plus called welcome to wreck some have you heard of it? No, I haven't. No, what is it? They bought a Welsh football team. Wrexham. Oh yeah, I do know what you're talking about. Yeah, Ryan Reynolds a football team. Yes, yes. And it's just so much fun to watch unfold. And it gives me an introduction to Wales and it's just so much fun for a lot of reasons. Yeah, you should have brought Barry town. For the people of Barry town uplift us. It's interesting how that works, right? Because a lot of people in the states don't know how the leagues work, right? Whether you get regulated or it's just like you get moved up or moved down depending on your record. Yeah, interesting how that works. There's so many levels to it. Yeah, no, the pyramid scheme is huge. But I think Wrexham's like, you know, it's a really cool club really. Yeah, yeah. It's always their fighting at the top of the Welsh Premier League. So yeah, it's a good buy, but again, you could have bought Barry town and then up front. You know, before we get into your life into your career, I did want to do a little bit of a dive into your social media Instagram. Are you a taekwondo guy, MMA guy? Yeah, yeah, I'm a black belt in taekwondo, yeah. Yeah, I studied it for like ten years when I was quite young. I was like, I think I sounded like 6 years old. And then by the time I got the 16, I still dabbled in it, but I became a bit more interested in the other sports I loved, which was football soccer as you call it. And boxing. Wow. Would you embrace the opportunity to ever use it in an acting situation, you know? Because obviously you're athletic, clearly. Yeah, no, absolutely. You know, to be honest with you, not many opportunities have come around. And so I've written a TV series incorporate in all those attributes of myself, which I'm now in talks with about making. So nice. Yeah, this just isn't that like, I don't know there is. There are films from here and there, but yeah, for me, I'm definitely want to be using utilizing this skill for sure. Now, I know you had a big move recently. Was that career based? Was that just focusing more on your career? Yeah, yeah, it was focusing more on my career and yeah, just because obviously I'm an actor but like I've got so many projects and ideas that I want to make and I just felt like America was the best place as well. Come and live and just like fulfill the potential of all those things I've got in mind. Yeah, and it's not an easy move, right? I mean, I get it, you know, you have to do it and it makes perfect sense, but you have to kind of pick up and leave everything that you're kind of you have to get out of that comfort zone. Yeah, absolutely. No, it's been challenging. I'm not going to lie. You know, are you Friends and your family? Everyone who.
A highlight from 774: Uncertainty Principle at Dawn
"I meet with a very small writing group every couple of weeks to work on various prose projects. Some of us are more poets than prose writers, I am pointing to myself here, so we thrive on the deadlines the group gives us, as well as the encouragement to write all the way to the end of the line and the page. Some of us are working on books that have already been sold to publishers, some of us are working on essays and some of us are working on novels or short stories. Our process is simply that we bring in something to share, and we read 5 minutes of the piece, and then we get some positive feedback. That's it. And it's wonderful. In the last meeting, we started talking about the journals that we keep now, or have kept throughout our lives. One of our members started talking about the journal she kept as a young person, and how she was amazed by how few feelings were in them. They were only lists of things she did or had to do. Another member said that hers were just the opposite. They were all feelings, flooding on the page like loose ink, pooling on paper. She said she wished she had written some things down. Some things about what she had done that day, anything concrete. Instead, it was all about her emotions and what she was going through in her heart. My journals, as a kid, were all about what was happening. They usually turn toward crushes or things I desired. One entry was all about a boy I liked in elementary school, and then the very next entry read that my best friend liked him too and I wrote, that's okay. She could have him, whatever. I think my old journals are weird because they don't seem to have any processing. It just goes from desiring one ting, wishing, and then when the thing doesn't happen, that little girl on the page just says, oh well, I didn't get the part in the school play. No big deal. And moves on. What a resilient little sociopath. My journals now, which I keep daily, often are a mix of a long and annotated to do list. Poem drafts, reports of my dreams, and still, my once and desires. And this journal, my adult journal includes a lot more processing. I don't always go from thwarted to thriving. I do love that it's a recording of my life, and whether I like it or not, I can flip through those pages and see what held my attention. Today's poem is an exploration of both memory and obsession and how sometimes we like a little more control, over both. Uncertainty principle at dawn. By Catherine Barnett. Come morning, I'll make a list of obsessions, and maybe you won't still be on it. Only $5 bills. Telescopes, anonymity, waiting, beauty, silent comedy, the silent comedy of beauty, of waiting. Could I forswear all these things? And just crawl back into the bed, you and I once slept in? What would happen then? Play any film backward and its elegy. Play it fast forward, and it's a gas. This slowdown is a production of American public media, in partnership with the poetry foundation. This project is also supported in part by the national endowment for the arts on the web at arts dot gov. To get a poem deliver to daily, go to slow down show dot org, and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram and Twitter at slow, down, show. Best slowdown is written by me, Ada, limon. It is produced by Micah kilburn. Our music is by hennes Brown. Engineering by Alex Simpson. Production help by susannah sharpless, James Napoli and Sarah Kaplan. Our executive producer and editor is Beth Perlman. Our executives in charge of APM studios are Chandra kavat, Alec schaffert, and Joanne Griffith. A Philadelphia doctor today was decided to 22 years in prison and find $100,000. This was just unbelievable. We didn't understand the genius and Larry. Nobody was doing Coke at this point. No one could believe that this highly educated young handsome man was this can pin drug dealer. This is wolves among us, the Larry lavin story,
A highlight from 773: The Dead Are Beautiful Tonight
"I remember once being pulled through an entire year simply by the desire to be desired. I was in New York City and life was rougher than it had been in some time. I couldn't see past my own grief over a friend's death and a recent heartbreak which seemed to be more of an indicator of my life's downward trajectory than a singular event. I was good at one thing that year. My own self fulfilling isolation. All I would do was work, try to save money and count calories. It seemed that when I couldn't control anything, I wanted to control the way my body looked. The way it felt. I thought only about what I was eating and how much I was eating, and what I would feel like once I weighed less. Like many people, I've had a strange relationship with my body for years. It's only been recently that I have learned to love it, to treat it with all the respect and care it deserves. But back then, I thought, loving myself meant becoming smaller. Something more digestible for others, or perhaps something more invisible. That year, as I got smaller, I did not get happier. My friend was still dead, and my heart was not mended. Still, I learned something about what it is to do what you can to get through a year. I wasn't making the healthy choices, or were the wise decisions, or taking care of myself, the way I should have. But sometimes it's about simply getting through. From one month to the next. Today's poem is about what we do sometimes to make it through for ourselves, and for each other. The dead are beautiful tonight. By Luther Hughes. Even the hemlocks moan. Black rind, black faces, winter stern grip of their necks. They say it's the worst one yet. But they've all been the same. The dead die every year, and I think I'm too good for such repetition. I've gained so little this season. The things I've lost stain the day a rough stillness. I don't tell him this. But I want my life to end. He wants another hallelujah, in bed with me, and I don't blame him. Our lives are so ridiculed with pining. I used to want the romance of hemlocks, the subtle conversation between the sky and crows. I can't help but study things that bear my resemblance. And that makes me a narcissist. But the crow. Headless, in the bush. Has been there all week. And if I can't bring it back to life, what else am I supposed to do? So much is my want for everything black around me to live. Where does want? Get me. I have my limits. My childish dreams barreling into the minds Merck. I want, but I must be careful. A shower here or a shower there. The hemlocks will still be a spider's web of what was. It's true what they say. About the day disrobing into a sudden stroke of sorrow. I unthread, and he arranges me on the bed. How he sees fit. Ready to love me. The blackest way, he knows how. Salt, in my mouth. Light in the corners of my eyes. The slowdown is a production of American public media in partnership with the poetry foundation.
A highlight from Episode 505: Robert Samuels and Toluse Olorunnipa
"Aaron lammer, max linsky. Evan. Hey you guys, Evan, who is on the program this week. This week I spoke to Robert Samuels and tolu, Oli nipa, they are both reporters at The Washington Post. Robert is a national enterprise reporter tolu is The White House bureau chief currently, but they are together the two of them, the authors of a book called my name is George Floyd, which, among other things, was just recently on the long list for the national book award. And the book is basically the deeply reported story of George Floyd's life, family history, all of the institutions he encountered in his life, and also what happened after his death. And I found it to be extremely illuminating and almost like gripping in a way I didn't quite expect because you think you know the story. And I wanted to know how they went about reporting and writing this thing. And it was a pleasure to talk to them both about it. Our show is produced in partnership with the fine people at vox, thanks to them. Now here's Evan with Robert Samuels and tolu oligarch. Robert tolu welcome to the long form podcast. It is an honor to have you both. On at the same time. And I want to talk a lot about the book, obviously. But I want to start with what were you reporting on when the George Floyd murder happened? I can start. This is tolu, I was a White House reporter covering the presidency of Donald Trump and all the turbulence surrounding that presidency, especially in 2020 when we're in the middle of a pandemic. There was a big presidential campaign going on. There were a lot of issues that were facing the country and it seemed like we were in a moment of turmoil on a really big inflection point in the country's history even before George Floyd was murdered and then obviously we saw the protests and so I was covering how The White House was responding, seeing how president Trump was responding saying how in many cases he was in flaming some of the tensions that were exposed and that was really the vantage point that I was viewing a lot of this from before I took a little bit of a break to join in on this project that led to the book his name is George Floyd. Yeah, and I had been an enterprise reporter and early in the pandemic. It was very difficult to figure out what to do because you can go anywhere. And one of the first stories I did was looking at Milwaukee Wisconsin, the first 7 people to dine in Wisconsin were all African American. And what I saw really haunted me because covering coronavirus on the ground, I remember getting a list of people who had been infected or had been killed. And there are all living within blocks of one another. And I had come in thinking of one thing and the people kept on telling me, no, it's not simply because we don't believe in social distancing. It's because we can't social distance. Because we have to go to work. We live in these houses with our parents, and our grandparents, and it really sort of reoriented my focus to thinking about systemic challenges. And when George Floyd died, I was still thinking about those things because they had seen interrelated. And the first thing I wanted to do was I wanted to understand why people were acting so strangely. And by strangely, I mean, as a black person, I had a lot of friends who were asking me if I was okay. I had some of some people from my church who were sending me money, and it was very weird. And the first thing I did was I went to Tulsa Oklahoma and I started interviewing white women who had seen the footage and felt they needed to change their lives. And I realized that there was something that was important that was happening that we were really at a moment where if we talked about these bigger issues, people with less than to them. It was a very unique and precious moment. And I know there was a team at the post who were covering all aspects of what happened. But I'm interested in how it kind of went from that team approach to you guys ending up partnering up on the book. What caused the two of you to feel like, you know what? We can do this together. We can keep this story going even after the initial post reporting. Yeah, well, after we had done this series, I think all of us were surprised the original series, there were 6 stories done by 7 reporters that looked at different institutions that George Floyd had intersected with education, his family history, healthcare, housing, criminal justice. And the prison system. And I think we are all really struck by just how resonant some of the theories of how systemic racism operates or functioning in the life of George Floyd. Also, I think for those of us that you had the privilege of spending time with people who had known George Floyd, his friends and his family. We were just really staggered by his heart, his humanity, and so much of that had been flattened over time. He had
A highlight from 772: On Friendship
"I can be terrible at answering the phone. In fact, I answer the phone so infrequently that when I managed to call a friend, I'm often accused of frightening them as something is sure to be wrong if I call instead of texting. I can become a hermit, too. I close myself in sometimes and can be alone for not just hours, but days, weeks even. And so when a friend does try to reach out or stop by or offer an invitation, I can hesitate at times. But I've learned throughout my life that every time I say yes to seeing a friend, to a small moment of pleasure, I am better for it. But sometimes those moments come more serendipitously. When I lived in Brooklyn, I remember running into my friend Caylee on my way back home from the gym, and instead of going our separate ways, we went for a quick drink to catch up. Then, on the way home from that drink we stumbled across a live concert in an abandoned public pool by famed Texas based R&B performer, Archie bell. He was singing tighten up with his full backup band, and it sounded so good. We could hardly believe it. We still have trouble believing it happened. Suddenly, we were dancing and laughing, and it felt like there was nothing better than this moment, to be alive on a summer Sunday in Brooklyn with a friend dancing by your side, and beer in your hand, and some legendary R&B band performing live right in front of you. And what if I had gone home? Step to my routine or begged off to be more alone and more in the shadows, as I wrote my solemn poems, and cut my vegetables for some simple meal. I wouldn't have been unhappy, surely. But it wouldn't have been this, this true elation of unexpected music, this dancing on the concrete dance floor, while the moon was rising, and life was full of possibilities. Today's poem honors those simple and unexpected moments where you lean into each other and something delightful happens. On friendship, by rajit Grossman. Translated from the Hebrew by Benjamin balint. If a friend calls out to you late at night, from beneath your window, never send him on his way. And if you sent him away, and still insist on rigid rules, regain your composure after a moment and run to the window, and shout his name, come merhav, come back. I've got some corn cooking come eat something. And he'll placidly retrace his steps and gladly accept the key, you toss down from your window. We'll come upstairs to the first floor, and will be impressed by the large pictures on the walls. He'll sit and wait for you to slip into a clean shirt, and you'll put on the movie and the kid's room, and your baby daughter will rush to the kitchen and come back with a red pepper for him. Kill the cline, the warm corn, and say, he's already had dinner. In the meantime, your husband will chat with him about Tai Chi, and pour him a glass of cold, sweet, pineapple juice. You return to the living room and go out to the balcony, and light a cigarette, and sip a cold beer. You don't yet realize that this is a sublime moment in your life. One of the most sublime, you'll ever know.
A highlight from 771: Your Damage
"When I'm feeling down, I Google my childhood home. I put in the address and it usually pops up on the page on Zillow or some house buying site, even though it's not for sale at the moment. And there's a picture of the front, the garage, the second floor edition, my grandfather built, and the high fence, the new owners built. The inside has been renovated nicely. But there's still the fireplace that my stepmother painted white, and I almost lost my mind because it had always just been brick colored brick, and then it was white brick, and even then I didn't like change. There's the back deck and the small studio where my mother used to make her ceramics. There is no picture of the garden, but I bet you could make one. I've always wanted to own it. Though most likely I never will. There's something about the idea of returning to it. To make it my home again, that's intriguing. And maybe it would be strange or too emotional or maybe it would collapse the timeline too much in my mind. The traffic's probably too loud. The wildfire threats are real. But I had good memories in that house, and yes, every once in a while, it goes on the market at some outrageous California price. I could never afford. And I joke with my husband about buying it. I want it to always be mine. Even though it already always is, in my mind, my first home it looms large in the cells of my body. In today's poem, we see that connection to place and how grieving a place can be like grieving the past. Your damage by Mary bittinger. Some days the Lake eats your face. Some days the car eats the key. Other days you deposit ten minutes of Saab into a trash can. Your childhood home will not be yours again. You won't walk out of those Woods you wish you never entered. Much of your early adulthood and mine was coming up with innovative ways to vomit, and then innovative ways not to vomit. My roommate holds my face steady, pushes the earplug in with a flick like fake eyelashes. Fans, my water logged childhood books on the fire escape, pausing to flip through the one with owls and tight sweaters. Dime in a striped cotton dress without shoes or a bra. Maybe its evening. Tankard of pedialyte. Ghost cat stepping across my chest, everything inside burns. You have to remember this was back when we had to take cabs, so we take a cab. My roommate tells me the Bengal bracelet is a sea band. Puts a wig over my hair and an all day sucker in my hand, like going to a rave. Jams my heels and heels, drags my heels into the cab. When we reach my childhood home, which probably looks very much like yours, we realize we brought nothing to throw. So I throw my voice around every tree into the chimney, my father built, across the yard, where my ghost dog, still, ghosts. This slowdown is a production of American public media, in partnership with the poetry foundation. This project is also supported in part by the national endowment for the arts on the web at arts dot gov. To get a poem delivered to daily, go to slow down show dot org and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram and Twitter at slow down show. A Philadelphia doctor today was decided to 22 years in prison and find $100,000. This was just unbelievable. We didn't understand the genius and Larry. Nobody was doing Coke at this point. No one could believe that this highly educated young handsome man was this king pin drug dealer. This is wolves among us, the Larry lavin story.
A highlight from (Episode 334) "Cobra Kai" (Teenage Johnny).
"Looking at your life, I see just a very positive person that has the best attitude you can have to be an actor. Well, thank you. It doesn't feel like that sometimes, but at least it feels good to hear that, you know? You know, in South Carolina, how long were you there? Was it was it through high school? Yeah, so I grew up in South Carolina and North Carolina and moved to California to LA right after college, which was about 2016 now, 2017. Yeah. That's a big leap of faith. That's tough to do. Yeah. You know, I mean, like I said, I said it earlier. I think your attitude though is a big help for you. I think you have a very much glass half empty type of person. Sure. I would be a terrible act. I'm not going to be able to find tomorrow's paycheck. I blew that role. My audition was terrible. I would be the worst person to be an actor. Well, I appreciate you saying that because sometimes it does feel like you just have to stay positive or you got to get out. You know what I mean? I mean, if you can't find some positivity in it, it kind of makes you go a little crazy. So it's good to at least see some light at the end of the tunnel, you know? Yeah, Logan explained to me what a speech debate is. Is it just a debate club? Is that correct? I love that you're asking that from the start. That is a research. Speech and debate for the forensics out there, forensics, which is not other forensics, but it's speech and debate, but something I did in high school and basically we went to different high schools and competed and I did the speech side, which is basically like monologues. There's humorous interpretation and dramatic interpretation and duo and basically you're doing scripts or plays or books and just kind of putting your performance with it. The debate side is very different and that was not a part of that, but most of my first monologues for auditions for work and for college were all from speech and debate. So you show something really easy like The Lion King. Oh my God, that's so tough. That's like gotta be a very difficult choice, right? Yes, I did the like and honestly, it was because I did like the golden book version of The Lion King because it speaks to me, has to be like a script. But what was so fun is I think I did well with it. I did all the characters and so all the voices and everything. So I would say a chaotic version of Lion King to say the least. Well, it's a brave choice. You know, I always asked actors this and it's one of my favorite questions because I just I love talking movies and shows who are your inspirations Logan when it comes to an actor or a movie. I'm sure there's more than one. I mean, I'm sure, yeah, I'm not that naive, but or who is somebody that you love on a movie or a show that you just adore? Yeah, I mean, I don't know if it's cliche, but always the first that comes to mind. I mean, my first favorite movie was always Titanic. So it's always going straight to like Leo, you know? Yeah. I think that's always the easy route, but newly I love Timothy Chalamet, I think he's just killing it. And doing great roles. So I'm always looking at the new kind of young guy that's kind of up and coming and choosing those roles that are really diverse and kind of courageous, you know? He was fantastic in dune. He was so good. So good. Awesome. Did you go to college for acting or that's the one part I could not find Logan? There was a mention of college, but then I couldn't find any follow-up to that. Anything you wanted to say about that. So I went to scad, which is the Savannah college of art design. And that's in Savannah, Georgia. And I went for performing arts. And I think it's changed since then, but basically I did a lot of stage over there, but we did film, stage. Basically, all sorts of different kind of diverse training. And the programs kind of has taken over to direct it more towards film and TV. Which I think is great for students, but definitely did a lot of stage and improv work over in school. Before kind of getting over on the West Coast. And you definitely did have a lot outside of this as well. I feel like that involved the stage in theater and that's important for an actor. To me, and I've said this before, I would be so frightened to be on a stage. I could never do it. I don't know how actors they're on an island out there. And if you mess up good luck, whereas if you're on a set and you mess up, it's like, all right, let's do that again. There's no retakes on a stage. I mean, but that's a heavy thing to be and I couldn't do it. I don't know how you do it. I love that I love the fearlessness that it takes to be on stage because like you said, it's not another take. He just kind of got to own it and whatever happens happens and I love the thrill of that. So I think starting doing more of that before kind of entering into film and TV and getting those first few jobs allowed me to be more confident, you know? Yeah, for sure, for sure. You know, and how hard is the journey been for you? Like I said, you're out of too big, but how hard has the journey been for you since South Carolina? I mean, it's definitely been tough, especially because I graduated and came straight to LA right before the pandemic. Right. So then I was getting my trying to get representation. So it felt like I finally got an agent and manager. It was like, bam, bam, bam, and then the pandemic hit. So that obviously changed everything for me personally. But it's still been good through the pandemic and since. I mean, this opportunity that we're talking about even today is because of during the pandemic. So it's just like pivot that I've had to kind of go through. So it's definitely been a challenge and a battle and still under every week. You know, with the auditions that are coming through. So just trying to stay positive.
A highlight from 770: And
"I have a love of those small words we take for granted every day. I once wanted to call a whole book with. Wi, TH, just with. But then when I said the word over and over, it lost its meaning, and I couldn't even remember how to spell it. With. With. With, even if I do it right now, I might lose the threat of this episode and the threat of language altogether. Once, too, I wanted to call a book as if, which might be a good title, but again, once I set it out loud, I could only see it as a part of language and not language itself. Still, you see what I mean about loving these little parts of language that gets sucked up and swallowed by the bully nouns and those hardworking verbs and all those abundant adjectives and adverbs decorating our walls. But all words are a wonder, aren't they? Even the word but I love how it turns a sentence or a line into something entirely different. We are on the road in the car together, and then someone says, but, and there we go, veering off in a whole new direction. My husband has an ex-girlfriend who said, you know, I don't think you can say, I love you, but. And I'm grateful to that ex-girlfriend. As Ned Stark once said, everything before, but is a lie. And then there is my favorite conjunction in all of the English language. And if I could start every sentence with and I would. In improv acting class, there's the rule of yes and which means you're always adding to the scene that's in progress always forwarding the momentum. Yes, and is also about not saying no. Yes, I was in an improv group in college, and we were called the 5 30 fish sticks, and I was the only girl, and we went on stage at the drama school at 1130 p.m. on Saturday nights. But I digress. Back to and. And is a word that I'm fond of for more reasons than just its engine of continuation. Yes, and is so much better than, yes, but, for example, I love its abundance, and is generous. It's ongoing. I'd like eggs and we'd like pancakes for the table. Pancakes for the table is a game changer, by the way. Something I think we can all learn to appreciate, come brunch time. And today's poem is about the word and. And not how it works in a sentence, but how it functions inside words themselves. If you listen carefully, you can hear the word throughout the larger words. I love how this poem celebrates the word. And the music of language. And, by Nicole, Seeley. Withstand, pandemonium, and scandalous, nightstands, commanding candlelight. And quicksand, and zinfandel, clandestine, landmines, candy, handfuls, and contraband, and handmade. Commandments, and merchandise. Second hand husbands, philandering and landless, and vandal, bandwagons, slandered and branded, handwritten reprimands. And meander. On an island, landscaped with chandeliers, abandon, handcuffs, standstills, and backhands, notwithstanding thousands of oleanders and dandelions handpicked, and sandalwood, and mandrake, and random demands the bystander wanders. It Wonderland.
A highlight from (Episode 333) "Cobra Kai" Actor: Owen Harn. (Gabriel).
"Use your remaining time to write yourself an ending that you can be proud of. That's enough. This piece of shit's asking for it. Let it go. It's not worth it. Hello, this is Owen horn, and you're listening to Monday morning critic. So let's get right into it, man. I've been dying to talk to you all day. Pretty psyched about it. So mom's a nurse dad's in construction, right? Big loss at 9 years old, oh, and how do you take that at that age? I don't want to start the interview with a somber note, but I feel like this gets the ball rolling for how your life ends up where you are today, right? One step leads to another. Do you remember it at 9? Do you remember I've got a great memory, you know? Yeah. Of course I remember all that. Yeah, but that was just kind of like a turning point for me. I had to grow up very fast. You know, we moved to Florida right after that, and I kind of was just on my own from 12 to about 18. Just nobody looking after me, so I just had to kind of have to, you know. Wow. I don't want to say the streets raised me because I didn't live on the streets, but you know, it wasn't nice. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And yeah, it made me a much better actor. And then, you know, by the time I was in my 20s, I didn't want my mom to die for nothing. So I just decided I'm going to really give this a go. And do people always believed in me, you know? All throughout high school. Everybody was always expecting me to be this famous actor or something one day. Not famous ish, but you know, getting there. Yeah, you sure are. You sure as hell are. And your mom, not to be cheesy, would be super proud of you, man. That's awesome. And you're also a big Florida guy. I feel like I feel like the move, right? So you're born for those listening. You're born in Maryland. But the move to Florida, I feel like Florida is like your home. I feel like this is where you really found yourself. Yeah, I mean, this is where my dad grew up in all the whole family, the harn family, the generations, like we had the whole boulevard named after us, not too far from where I live here, and we have our own museum, harm museum, and Gainesville, Florida, so horns run back quite a ways around here in Florida. We used to own 8 miles of land of this highway out here. And of course, sold it and for like $300,000 back and late 1800s. Yeah, you can't imagine what that's worth now. Oh God. Yeah, yeah. So I always ask this. I mean, I know in your case, it was, I think it was an early play for you or an early talent show that really kicks things off for you. Yeah, it was a talent show when I was 6 years old and first grade and I just remember seeing these kids like, you know, basically, you know, lip sync to the song wipe out up on the stage and you know me and my friends try to just emulate it later on and we just I was just so blown away by some of the performances I saw in my first grade talent show that I was like, that's what I want to do. And that really inspired me all those kids getting up there and having the guts to go do that. I'd never had the guts to do that and I didn't do that at that age. I mean, I didn't do it so much, much later. I was extremely shy. Believe it or not. So what does bring you out of your show? Is it maturity age, just growing up?
A highlight from 769: Meeting at an Airport
"Friendship is underrated. I think it's underrated as an actual meaningful part of our chaotic little lives and I think it's also underrated as a subject for our poetry for our art. In Buenos Aires, I had the pleasure of talking with two wonderful poets daniela aginsky and Laura whitner. We spoke about the trends and poetry in Latin America, specifically in Argentina. It delighted me that friendship was a theme that was coming up again and again in Latin American poetry. That feels like an important paradigm shift in our literary landscape. I have long been a fan of writing about my Friends and I've loved friendship poems and how they point out that some of the greatest loves of our lives are, in fact, our Friends. For me, I'd be unable to function without my Friends. Just today, I've texted my friends at least a dozen times on different threads and email chains. I ask advice on everything. I try not to offer too much advice of my own because who needs that. And for the most part, I just want to be sure that everyone knows that we are in this bruised and swirling world together. I think often of the friends I had as a young person, many of them are still in my life, I remember the games we play the waiting in the creek to the one big rock that was big enough for sunning. The all day wandering, and later the boys, the heartbreak, the colleges, the long drives away from each other, and to each other again. I'd be no one and nothing, without my friendships. And I'm so glad that more poems are being written about them. Today's poem celebrates friendships and how people return to us just when we need them. Meeting at an airport. By taha, Muhammad Ali. You ask me once on our way back from the mid morning trip to the spring. What do you hate? And who do you love? And I answered from behind the eyelashes of my surprise. My blood rushing like the shadow cast by a cloud of starlings. I hate departure. I love the spring and the path to the spring. And I worship the middle hours of mourning. And you laughed, and the almond tree blossomed, and the thicket grew loud with nightingales. A question. Now for decades old, I salute that questions, answer. And an answer as old as your departure, I salute that answers, question. And today, it's preposterous. Here we are at a friendly airport by the slimmest of chances, and we meet. A lord, we meet, and here you are, asking, again, it's absolutely preposterous. I recognized you, but you didn't recognize me. Is it you? But you wouldn't believe it. And suddenly you burst out and asked if you are really you. What do you hate? And who do you love? And I answered, my blood fleeing the whole, rushing in me like the shadow cast by a cloud of starlings. I hate departure. And I love the spring. And the path to the spring. And I worship the middle hours of mourning. And you wept. And flowers bowed their heads. And doves, in the silk of their sorrow. Stumbled.
A highlight from 768: Lately I Am Trying
"I know it's easy to be let down by humanity. You might be feeling let down by humanity right now. Humanity, ugh, who needs it? And yet, amazingly, people can overcome loss or grief or great tragedy and just keep living. That perseverance can overwhelm me, can shred me into tiny pieces of emotional ash, it can flatten me. So I want to praise those little things that allow us to continue. The garden, the birds at the feeder, the friend who texts out of the blue to see if you're doing okay. My dog is one of those bright spots in my life. A reason to wake up or be kind to myself or walk or nap or laugh. Right now, my dog is sitting on the back porch watching the birds come and go from the feeder. Still, so upset that I dared to feed the flying beasts that flit in and out of our Kentucky backyard. Watching her makes me watch them. And for a while, we are both just peacefully noticing the world. It's something I had forgotten to do. She brings me back to myself, yes, but she also brings me back into the world. Today's poem explores how the love of an animal can help us process grief and even remember the precious value of touch. This is a poem by sana wani. Lately I am trying. To teach my dog, how to be alive. When she arrived in my life, she was a surprise. And because she surprised me, she was a miracle. It was a time of death. It always is. I was afraid, and then undone by her. She has never known her mother, and when my mother sees her, she scrunches up her nose and says, you have no mummy? Me too. She just lost her mom. My brother was angry, he asked, whose fault? And I said the state. I had no answer. What does blame do in a catastrophe? The week after my grandmother died, I attended class. They were talking about what killed her, like it was an inconvenience, like it wasn't a monster, haunting my bed, hunting the vulnerable, who are the vulnerable. Those who work hard, who were born, who bear something that says, I might be possible to you. I don't like that I wrote that, but I won't erase it to grand. It forgets the bruise tendons of her hands, the last time she held them out to me, the blister, on her left heel, the last time she walked. The last time I felt present with her, her breaking lungs, she sat up to eat, to drink milk. I threw out all her medication, my aunts were angry, I cradled her head in my hand and said, 24 years ago, I was your baby, and now you were mine. Some day, my dog will die. I might touch her once before she goes. My parents are getting older. My brother is so far away, and my sister's house is flooded. The Texas snow. But I went on a walk with my Lola, and sometimes she kisses the ankles, she gnaws. When I want to kiss someone, my lips throb. Every touch is a miracle. All of you are so beautiful to me. Please. Teach me how to be. This slowdown is a production of American public media in partnership with the poetry foundation. This project is also supported in part by the national endowment for the arts. On the web at arts dot gov. To get a poem delivered to daily, go to slow down show dot org and sign up for a newsletter. Find us on Instagram and Twitter at slow down show. A Philadelphia doctor today was decided to 22 years in prison and find $100,000. This was just unbelievable. We didn't understand the genius and Larry. Nobody was doing Coke at this point. No one could believe that this highly educated young handsome man was this can pin drug
A highlight from Episode 504: Pablo Torre
"For Sports Illustrated, then ESPN the magazine, and he was starting to appear more and more on television and the conversation he and I had 6 years ago was about that transition. Since then, Pablo fully transitioned to TV, he got his own TV show on ESPN called high noon. It was hosted with Beaumont Jones and it launched. It lived. It died. And we talked about that. And now he has transitioned again into podcasting. He is the host of ESPN daily ESPN's daily podcast. And so we talked about all of those transitions and what his relationship is to writing now and the vast array of content that he has put out into the world in what his relationship to all of it is. Is this a tie in with the NFL season starting? Or just beautiful serendipity? You would think that I would have asked some questions about the NFL season starting, but instead I just asked him about, you know, his interior life. So this is not a tie in with the NFL season. We started over the last couple of weeks, but you know, not a bad time to do a do a little sports on the program. It's been a while since we've covered sporting life. So I look forward to this one. The show is produced in partnership with vox media. We thank them. Here's max with Pablo Torre. Hi Pablo, hello, max. How are you, sir? I'm good. I'm good. We were trying to figure out the last time I talked to you in this specific context. Yeah, this podcast and what did we find out? It's like 6 and change. That's a lifetime. I don't even remember what I was like at that point. Truly. But I'll try. You were wide eyed? You were excited about life. You had a joie de vivre. Yes, I had a buoyancy of spirit. Yes, exactly. That has now been waterlogged. By all of the content that I mind in the present tense. You have mined oh so much content since we last talked. You even think about how much content you have produced in the last 6 and a half years. Minutes, words, it's not great that when I heard the description of how Bitcoin gets mined. And I was like, there are environmental negative externalities to this. Probably not safe for those in the surrounding environments. I was like, that's how I feel. What's your version of emissions? I mean, man, my wife is probably better suited to answer that question. The degree to which I am bringing the decreasingly slow heat death of my sanity. No, I'm being I'm being extreme, but look, I host a daily podcast at ESPN now. After hosting a daily TV show, ESPN from 2018 to 2020, and now I host another talk show called debatable on ESPN. That is a conversational talk show with my friend Dominic foxworth and our other friends. And that has been daily. And so I have over the last two years, definitely done, I don't know, 700 episodes of stuff of stuff of stuff. And then adding TV onto that probably closer to a thousand. I don't know, man. I'm saying these numbers and I'm unsettled by them, honestly. Yeah, so there was a world in which and now I remember what I was like in 2016. I was a magazine writer. Well, there was a very specific thing that we were talking about when you were on in May 2016, which was, hey, you're a magazine writer, but I think maybe you're like a TV guy. Are you a TV guy? That was basically, it was like 45 minutes of me being like, are you a TV guy now? And how does that interact with your writing? Yes. And that was what it was about. It was about the wrestling you were doing with where your career was headed and getting pulled toward the screen and away from the page. And at the time, maybe this was the wide eyed joie de vivre that I was referencing. I think that you were hoping that you could have it all. I think that was the plan and the hope was that little of this little of that, all of it at a high level, but the writing will be present. It can't not be present. Oh, oh, my sweet. Sweet joie de vivre. Spoiler alert. No, I mean, look, the incentives of the business are obvious. TV pulled me away from writing. My sensibilities, my appreciation, my taste for it. And I say taste in terms of both like what I like by discretion, but also like my ability to taste flavors. They still remain. I still absolutely, and especially in this podcast job. Now, I'm constantly reading and consuming more than ever. But the ability for me to live the lifestyle that I'm now, as I talk to you, nostalgic for, in which I'm not making a thousand things over two years, I am making 8. Yeah. And they are true to the whole premise of why I was on this podcast in the first place. There were long form stories that I got to sort of marinate it. That became unsustainable, the travel, the ability to go away for a while, and not live in the daily news cycle. And that's a big change is that sports has this, you know, we're mixing a million metaphors, but the gravitational pull of what sports is animated by. Is definitely in that daily spirit. And so I find myself now trying to resuscitate and truly, I think successfully inject a bunch of that sensibility, a magazine sensibility into a daily news approach, which is incredibly difficult, but very rewarding and also exhausting. And I'm trying still max, what I'm saying to you is that I now realize I am still believing that I can have it all. And what a fucking. Well. Thanks so much for coming back to the show. It's been good. I feel like it's been good. I feel like I'm gonna just limp out. The way that I lived it. You were about to go for a really long walk. Yeah. Well, I have some questions about that balance. Yeah. And one of them is in this daily churn.
Off the Wall: Van Gogh’s Art Comes to Life in Immersive Exhibit
"Immersive art shows aren't displaying the real thing but our review of a new van gogh show suggests. That's not the point. These exhibits can still be authentically. Inspiring the immersive exhibit of vincent van. Gogh's paintings playing on sunset. Boulevard in los angeles is part of a hugely popular global trend in projected art produced by mostly non museum for profit companies in the los angeles production. The main event is a florida ceiling wall to wall surround showing van gogh images. These are produced from sixty. Four projectors that run on a continuous loop visitors themselves splashed with the images. Sit on socially distanced cubes from there. They watch a mash up of masterpieces. Morphing for one to the next in which crows fly win meals turn clouds shift and iris's grow the soundtrack ranging from edith piaf to mode dust. Muzar sqi is integral to the production. At the show's end. Visitors applauded with enthusiasm and even whooped one visitor browsing in the gift shop afterward said he loved the show. I felt put into the art. He added the monitor's francine keefer had wondered how giant video projections could possibly compare with a face to face encounter with authentic works of art but after she watched the show and talk with visitors. She realized she was asking the wrong question. This isn't about a comparison with the real thing she writes is a variation on a theme a building on what's come before
Interview With Pianist, Melody Quah
"Curious how this job works with your performance side and Do you still perform. Obviously that's may be a different story with the pandemic as well but Have you kind of crossed the performance and the teaching pieces. And how do you see them benefiting each other. Yeah so you know. Part of many university positions. Include this expectation that you're going to maintain A performing A platform and so. That's part of my position as well as that. I've got this teaching portion of it. My creative activities you know what they consider the performance element as well but that could be researched. That could be presentations. That could be other things as well. I'm an in service to the university So it's it's sort of a given that you know you're not just teaching every week by your Also playing using those opportunities also to get to know the community. Get to know the students recruit in all of those things so well. Yeah this past. Year is has been unusual in that sense that i'm in a new place you know i'm still getting to know who are the folks around the area. Who are my colleagues. Actually we've got a department and most people were still teaching online. So i haven't met actually a lot of the of the faculty and staff In person yet but We have been able to perform on recital space and have that being livestream so we definitely have had opportunities to connect in that way.
A Conversation With Art Historian, Curator Plus Writer, Stephanie Von Spreter
"Now going back at you talked about working at some by any os and such so. The fascinates me is what is it. That differentiates a so. You did it as a curator correct. Now i didn't. I was the curator thoughts in the case of documenta levin hundred curatorial assistant but i worked really closely with a curator's which obviously influenced my curatorial work later on. But when i worked for documenta and the biennial i was not a curator. Or in the case of documented eleven as a curatorial assistant whereas at the berlin biennial. I had different roles kind of like moved up the ladder from the third to the fourth to the fifth biennial so i ended up project manager in the fifth one but in all cases my positions where an kit in what was called the autistic office so it was working closely with the curator on the one side with the artists on the other sides. And so one would be also a care in that sense in the curatorial sense in carrying lots about the artists actually Being a mediator. Being a friend as well being in a sense trustworthy person you could share your thoughts with but also somebody who would be higher to make things possible. Basically so tat's several sites to disposition
Why Fame and Success Won't Heal Your Wounds
"I found out about your story because you wrote in About your film the golden age and. I think that the thing that really struck me was that you wrote about this idea of this obsession that we have is a culture with fame which i thought this is kind of a no brainer to me because it's so important because i think that often we've prioritized fame over mastery and craft but before we get into all of that I want to start asking you. What is one of the most important things that you learn from one or both of your parents that influenced and shaped who become in what you ended up doing with your life while it's a great question Well i think you know. It's the parents came from a generation where they did what. They felt that they had to do but didn't necessarily want to do you. Know of course have a traditional family. My father was an attorney. My mom was like come dance teacher. And but secretly. My mom always wanted to be a singer. My dad was this really great saxophonist and they both loved jazz. And the irony. And i talked about it a little bit in this book. That accompanies the film released later. This fall as the irony is. I became like the hybrid of what they really wanted to do at an a generation where they couldn't my dad to be a musician. My mom wanted to be a singer. And it's like i became a high bit of what they wanted to do. Was kinda strange but i. I've learned so much from them especially like my love of music like my dad was incredibly large beach. Roy beach boys fan and as a kid. I just couldn't stand. Listen to that music but i realize you know i didn't realize brian wilson's genius as a child and and now i realize how much brian wilson's affected my life and how important they are in my life and it was almost like i had to go through all this crazy tutelage with my father. He was an alcoholic and abusive a gun into it into the film a little bit but it was like he was training me. You know with all these jazz records than the beatles and you all these different bands but especially the beach boys. And it's like i get so obsessive recording with all the production stuff and i can't just make regular album it's like oh here's me on piano singing. It's like i have to do my brian wilson and i i realized that was kind of the badness of being raised by my father's like he was training me for something that i didn't even
RODNEY CROWELL Launches Vincent Neil Emerson
"Hi rodney crowd. Welcome to the show. Welcome to launch left are our you. I'm good what an honor to be speaking to you. my god. you're just an incredible career and more than that like you. As an artist have been such an incredible influence on so many other artists and Helped pave the way in a left of center way In country and and pop and and production all of that. I could sing your praises and speak about your accolades for a while. But the question burning question i have is about the intersection between What every artist wants to have your music be heard by white audience and not compromise your creativity in to do so I feel like you could speak to that. And i'm just curious where your journey is. Ben if you feel like sharing a sure happy to share. I'm here to protect and serve Well you know funny. You should ask of actually given that some thought. I was speaking to my co producer slash son-in-law Just a little earlier today. We were talking about that very thing. I said you know During the most commercial part of my career. When when i was you know top the charts and stuff. I was not comfortable in my body at the time and Maybe psychologically i i sort of started trying to wiggle out of it in a way because it felt like there is a trap that i had allowed Laid for myself. Which is that thing you know when you when people are when you're on the top of the radio charts. You know in this some time ago so you walk into a room. People look at you know certain way
Philip McKernan on Finding the Courage to Speak Your Truth
"Philip. Welcome back to the mystical creative for the fourth time. Yeah thank you. it's i can honestly say it's an absolute utter privilege. I've talked to you. It's been what it's been like for the audience. But i can tell you. It's been immensely rewarding for mesa. Thank you well. Before we hit record. I don't think anybody in our audience is gonna be complaining that you are back for a fourth time. You have a new book out which we will talk about quite a bit of detail. But for that i wanna ask you something that. I don't believe that i've asked you before. And that is what did your parents do for a living. And what impact did that end up having on the choices that you've made throughout your life in your career. My mother was a stay at home. Mom and i think that she in later life had some regrets and has some regrets around that she is a massive animal lover. And i don't think she ever fully embraced and stepped into that so when i was growing up so kid or maybe when i was even before i was born my mother would have home students. My parents chose to put a true private school. Even though argue they couldn't really afford it as put them under pressure so my mother did that for for income but for the most part she was a stay at home mom and my dad was in sales and he ended up becoming the sales director of a very large distribution drinks company beverages soft drinks pop alcohol etc etc which were eventually acquired by guinness. He contemplated becoming an entrepreneur And as most of us do when we think about studying business we often think sometimes from a very limited standpoint. sometimes we think about it through the lens of who we are and what we've done as opposed to possible excited out in the peripheral and a member him looking at buying a pub at just outside of the city of dublin. And i'll always remember going to see the pob and it would have been a huge outlay in order open. A big change lives and i'm so glad he never takes. I think it would have been his grave now if he if he did both in terms of the work ethic the smoking in the pubs at the time and just the general lifestyle so my dad was in sales and my mom was A stay at home mum
Shame and Guilt in the Artist
"Now. I know this might sound a little interesting Shame and guilt in the oddest because there is such a wide array of opinion about these subjects in in the arts. You have a group of people that literally believe that because we are human and because we are communicating to humans through arts that we should try to use whenever possible. Shame and guilt and in all the other things that are inside us. But we're just talking about shame and guilt and this show and use it on a regular basis and in fact Use it all the time practically and then of course you have another group that say You know issue used sparingly or. Should this be used strategically. You know where we're has them real relevancy so that you can still remain an artist or you can still have something that's artistic and not just a rant or rave or you know a complaint or something like that and then of course you still have another group top of that that believe that somehow in some way we should try to put together things arts whether it's nonfiction frictional. Whatever doubt don't really have a lotta bearing in our lives or maybe even a lot of bearing in people's lives in general they just stories period. You know or like a science fiction writer. I know tells me all the time mark now this is real so i mean i don't need to be gene roddenberry and try to lose every single thing that's happening on earth in order to make my science fiction relevant. He makes he makes fun of the word relevant a lot. I mean he has a point. i don't wanna go as far as he he's gone to where You know he can't do anything. It is writing ille- resembles anything that happens on. Earth happens with human beings because everybody any anyway marked. So what's the big deal
Part 2 Being a Witness, Storytelling, Play, and Art With Ella Reilly
"Then I have another lovely example of, you know, a child very much taking what they need and knowing what they need. And, and I had this little guy in Iraq and this was ages ago, but he, you know, he had come in and was it was pretty obvious that it was kind of an insecure attachment. So a lot of distress with new people and unable to leave home side. You know, very much stuck to her. Glue, you know, wouldn't move with it were moving and so we, we did a lot of work around that move. Eventually got into sections that are owned and in one of our sessions, he walked over to to my books cuz they helped him quite load off the kitty ones. And he picked up the one. What is it called? A little babies? You come across that one. I haven't. I'm writing it down though. I will babies and I will, I hope you ma'am. Let me grab the the order so it's a really beautiful and yeah, it's called our babies and it's by Martin waddle. And it's illustrated by Patrick Ben Branson. Now it's a relatively old book. I got a second-hand version on Amazon but he picked this up off and the story is is basically about one night. These three baby owls. Wake up and Mom has gone. Okay. And they're, they're in the dark and they're they're in a forest and it's nighttime and and the three babies react very differently. But the youngest is is distraught and very worried and very much just cries out for Mom throughout the book. And and then, of course, mom eventually comes back after they try to comfort each other and, and do all sorts of things. Mom comes back. And I just love her reaction cuz she comes back. And she says, what's all the fuss? You know, she could come back and I remember, he picked up this book, and I read it to him. And he kind of looked at me, when I finished, she looked up at me and looked at the back of the little baby. And put his hand over the smallest owl and then just closed the book and put it back on the Shelf. But that will him, you know, he's, he's not baby owl, you know, as soon as this goes upstairs in high circles, the bathroom work goes to work. He's worried the whole time, you know, where's mom wears?
Interview With Curator, Silja Leifsdottir, Norwegian Sculptors Society
"Could you please pronounce your name correctly for me. My name is celia life stupid and you do many things you are both an artist and curator and then even within those. It seems like you're very many different things. Gimme a lay of the land. What are all the different roles. You have in the arts industry right now jeff. I have many hats. And i do enjoy that. Although we can be a bit confusing for myself and others at sometimes my main job my hundred percent main job is to be a curator at what in the region is called nashville running which translates to the region sculptor society. So that is one thing that i spend mondays to fridays on. But then i'm also the chair in the region curtis association and then. I started eleven years ago when i moved back to norway in oslo ice started what is now known as the snow art guides which is a free guide to the contemporary art scene in oslo and along with that we also arrange the also art weekend in september each year