Month: September 2023

View the world from the unique perspectives of kids and teens at Light House Studio’s Annual Youth Film Festival. A celebration of the art of storytelling, the fest supports the org’s annual budget and offers a look at  short films created by student filmmakers in the past year. Previous selections range from a ghastly zombie chase and toe-tapping music videos, to hard-hitting documentaries on tobacco use, climate change, and the pursuit of social justice.

Friday 9/15. $17–102.50, 7:30pm. The Paramount Theater, 215 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. lighthousestudio.org

From the throes of loss, heartbreak, and chaos, singer-songwriter Noah Cyrus released her debut record, The Hardest Part. Miley’s sister draws influence from country soul and acoustic pop, like the sparsely instrumented and jarringly lyrically “I Burned LA Down,” and the heartbreaking piano waltz “My Side of the Bed.” Cyrus is joined by Death Cab for Cutie’s Ben Gibbard on “Every Beginning Ends,” a call-and-response that details the demise of a tired romance. With Anna Bates.

Tuesday 9/19. $33–125, 8pm. The Jefferson Theater, 110 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. jeffersontheater.com

“Minds are different and healing them is likewise so,” writes Kay Redfield Jamison in her latest book, Fires in the Dark: Healing the Unquiet Mind. She adds, “It is the healer’s order to restore the mind to soundness: to repair and mend it, to pry it from disease, to reassemble.” These are the seeds from which this book grows, through which Jamison formulates and explores multifaceted questions about society, trauma, recovery, and the people who work tirelessly to help us better understand the full range of human experience, from melancholy to mania. But rather than writing an overly clinical book about mental health and best practices for treatment, Jamison shares a sociocultural history of healing, a celebration of the mind in joy as well as in darkness. 

Influenced by the author’s work as the Dalio Professor in Mood Disorders and a professor of psychiatry at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, as well as her experiences as a psychiatric patient, Fires in the Dark is deeply personal yet expansive. Building on Jamison’s previous book—An Unquiet Mind, a memoir exploring the author’s experiences with bipolar disorder—Fires in the Dark also touches on her time at the Esalen Institute and undergoing lithium treatment, as well as her corresponding professional journey in psychopathology and psychopharmacology. However, framed by an in-depth examination of the mental health implications of World War I, the book takes a more holistic view of healing practices and the people who serve as guides in the recovery journey, which Jamison describes as “a reflection on healing the mind … an archipelago of thoughts, experiences, and images.” Deeply researched sections celebrate healers across history, attempting to unpack their personal and professional qualities—“A healer should be a refuge”—and approaches to care that resonate over time and reveal something intrinsic about human nature.

The scope is outstanding, ranging from Robert Falcon Scott’s expedition to the South Pole in 1910 to the burning of Notre Dame Cathedral in 2019 and covering World War I from inception to armistice, including in-depth accounts of the lives of Sir William Osler, considered a “father of modern medicine,” and W.H.R. Rivers, a doctor, psychologist, and anthropologist whose notable work included treating soldiers for shell shock—what we now know as post-traumatic stress disorder. Woven in across sections are quotes, experiences, and insights from household names in psychiatry and poetry—Carl Jung, Sigmund Freud, W. B. Yeats, Elizabeth Bishop—alongside names that are likely less familiar, such as psychiatrist Anthony Storr, 19th-century mental illness expert Daniel Hack Tuke, and Scottish poet Douglas Dunn.

Jamison also undertakes a condensed history of psychotherapeutics, from magicians and priests to electroconvulsive therapy and techniques that remain experimental today, such as ketamine and psilocybin. Alongside a list of ancient medicinal remedies that reads like poetry, she examines Greek and Egyptian healing practices, including sleep temples that “served as hospitals, sanctuaries, and centers for purification.” From ancient Egyptian physician Imhotep to Greek god of medicine Asclepius and Greek physician and herbalist Crateuas, Jamison celebrates some of the healers who laid the groundwork for modern medicine, noting, “Ways to heal the mind go back unimaginably far in human history.”

Throughout, the author’s probing attention to history and the human mind makes for a rewarding read. Seemingly disparate topics are united by repeated refrains, connective tissue that coalesces in stories of healing and guidance for those seeking to recover from trauma. “It is difficult to accept, but pain is essential to healing,” is one such refrain that Jamison uses; so too, the idea that work can be a balm to the healing mind. Imagination, creativity, and artistic self-expression are also returned to often, through extensive examples of the congruence of poetry and pathology and also as exemplified in the lives of singer, activist, and athlete Paul Robeson as well as writers such as Ursula K. Le Guin and Lewis Carroll. 

Perhaps the most interesting part of the book is found in the latter, this celebration of imagination and reading—and the psychotherapeutic benefits of both. Jamison writes, “Both writing and psychotherapy create stories from the material of life. … Whether told to a therapist or created by a writer, stories give form to the inchoate and construct a path out of confusion and pain.” 

Inviting the reader on a journey back to childhood, she skillfully conjures the awe and wonder of children’s literature, complete with quests calling for courageous feats and the lessons learned along the way. From The Once and Future King to Mary Poppins and Peter Pan, she contends, “Writers show us ways to field anxiety, face adversity, and take delight in living.” While the examples used could be updated to reflect more diverse writers and stories, the message resonates nonetheless: Through stories, we come to know ourselves and the world, but we also learn valuable tools for mapping new stories—whether in response to a changing world or healing from the traumas that we experience in it. She argues that stories and imagination are tools for recovery that also teach us how to be more resilient going forward. 

Reflecting the same passion and intensity that she clearly embraced in researching and writing this book—that can be felt with every turn of the page when reading it—Jamison writes, “One should be passionate in dealing with life: grapple with it, know it, and master it. Passion and knowledge protect.”

Since 2013, the City of Charlottesville has officially recognized the third Saturday of September as Cville Sabroso Day. This year, more than 4,000 people are expected in Washington Park for the annual Cville Sabroso Festival, central Virginia’s largest annual Latin American music, dance, and culture gathering.

That will break the event’s previous attendance record, according to Sin Barreras, the organization behind the day. Cville Sabroso launched alongside Sin Barreras in 2012 because of “a need to celebrate and to share a piece of yourself and your own traditions with the broader community,” says Edgar Lara, executive director of Sin Barreras. The Charlottesville- and Waynesboro-based organization supports the area’s Hispanic immigrant community with services including legal consultations and educational workshops.

Lara experienced this need when he first moved to Charlottesville in 2012 and struggled to connect with the city’s Hispanic community. “It was very clear to me as I met people that most didn’t know anything about the culture and the people that I come from,” Lara says.

He found folks who understood his background through Sin Barreras, and the inaugural Cville Sabroso Festival helped set the stage to connect those people with the broader Charlottesville community. “Oftentimes we have heard people say, ‘This festival makes me feel a little more at home. It makes me more comfortable,’” Lara says.

Estela Knott, who co-founded Cville Sabroso with Fanny Smedile, is a member of the Lua Project, a musical group blending Mexican and Appalachian musical styles. Like that Mexilachian blend, Knott describes Cville Sabroso as an opportunity for cultural bridge-building. “We were all immigrants, we all are descendants of immigrants at some time in our past,” says Knott. “The people that are coming now come with rich cultural traditions that add to the fabric of Virginia. These are people who are bringing something to our community, not taking.”

Encouraging positive perception of the impact of immigration on Charlottesville has become especially important for Sin Barreras following the violence that shook the city in August 2017. Lara calls that year’s Cville Sabroso, which was held less than one month later, “a healing moment” for the community. “This event, specifically right after, was such an important part of the healing process,” Lara says. “People saw diversity. They saw all these different things that really stood against what was seen on August 12 … that’s how we push back.”

This year, food trucks will include Mexican food from Antojitos Mexicanos, Sabor Latino, La Flor Michoacana, El Chapparito, and Guadalajara, as well as Uruguayan food from Marina Del Delicia and Argentinian fare from Arepas on Wheels. Vendors will display artisan goods from Mexico, Guatemala, and El Salvador.

Live performances will feature music and dance from Mexico, Bolivia, Panama, Puerto Rico, Peru, Honduras, El Salvador, the Caribbean, and Colombia. The formation of a Mexican dance group, Villa Sabrosa, was inspired by Cville Sabroso, according to Knott. “Coming to see El Sabroso, it’s an introduction, it’s a taste, and it might lead you to learning about not just where people come from, but how they live and who they are right here,” Lara says.

Step into a world of sawdust and swinging axes at the Devils Backbone’s Lumberjack Classic, two days of extreme timbersports, live music, food vendors, and family-friendly fun. Lumberjill Hanna Quigley is one of the competitors who’ll be racing to start her chainsaw and notch some wood in disciplines like underhand chop (imagine chopping through a tree that’s a foot across in seconds) and the stock saw (using a chainsaw to make precise cuts in a log). The free event is held September 15–16 at Devils Backbone Basecamp Brewpub & Meadows. dbbrewingcompany.com/events

Name: Hanna Quigley.

Age: 25.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers.

Hometown: Honeoye Falls, New York.

Job: Landscape designer.

How did you get into timbersports: I didn’t make the cut for the volleyball team or the wind ensemble upon tryouts in college, where SUNY ESF students had to compete against SU students in New York. I hoped to continue with sports and extracurricular activities. My friend signed me up for the Woodsmen Team at the club activities fair, mainly as a joke after we saw a “firebuilding event.” But as I joined the team, made friends, and learned the events, I came to enjoy how challenging the sport was and wanted to continue further with it.

What’s something about timbersports that people would be surprised to learn: Timbersports is a global sport that started in Australia. Many of the most talented athletes in the sport live in Australia and have passed their knowledge down through multiple generations. Several competitors worldwide travel there to compete against these athletes to learn and improve their technique.

What disciplines are you competing in at the Devils Backbone’s Lumber­jack Classic: All the women’s events are offered to the athletes, including the standing block chop, underhand chop, single buck, jack and jill sawing, and stock saw. My best events are the standing block and the single buck.

What’s your favorite discipline: My favorite discipline is the underhand chop. While it is the event that I am slightly behind the field at, it was the event that got me hooked on the sport back in college, and with it being one of the first women’s events, it’s one of the most competitive and most rewarding to perform well at.

Do you have a favorite wood to chop into: About a year ago, I would’ve told you my favorite wood to cut was aspen. That was mostly because to cut the wood well, it isn’t necessarily about pace; it’s about the placement of the axe and the slope at which the axe enters the wood. However, more recently, I’ve enjoyed cutting pine because with improved accuracy, I’ve been able to speed up my hits and race more effectively.

How fast can you cut down a tree: My fastest time in the standing block chop (which mimics tree felling) is about 24 seconds—I hope to beat that this weekend!

Who is your hero: My hero is Tia-Clair Toomey, six-time fittest woman on earth (CrossFit).

Best advice you ever got: Think about one thing going into each event; it’s too hard to handle more than that. Other improvements will come in time.

Proudest accomplishment: World title standing block at the Hayward Lumberjack Championships.

Describe a perfect day: A fall day out on a hike, training in the backyard, and hanging out with my dog.

If you could be reincarnated as a person or thing, what would you be: A cardinal.

If you had three wishes, what would you wish for: A private jet, a house, and to make enough money to live comfortably and solely compete in timbersports.

Do you have any pets: Mini Bernedoodle—Elouise.

Favorite movie/show: “Ted Lasso.”

Favorite book: Jane Eyre.

What are you listening to right now: Imagine Dragons.

Go-to karaoke song: “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

Who’d play you in a movie: Jennifer Lawrence.

Celebrity crush: Ian Somerhalder.

Most used app on your phone: Pandora Music.

Last text you sent: Video of woodchopping.

Most used emoji: Crying laughing face.

Subject that causes you to rant: Transgender women in sports.

Best journey you ever went on: Study abroad in Barcelona, Spain.

Next journey: Tasmania Christmas Circuit.

Favorite curse word: F-bomb.

Hottest take: Pineapple and ham on pizza.

What have you forgotten today: How to draw my lines in a standing block (jetlagged and just got back from a trip to Australia!).

Nothing’s as it seems when illusionist Jason Bishop hits the stage. The award-winning performer wows audiences with his original magic, grand illusions, agile sleight of hand—where’d that goldfish come from?—and wry wit. Bishop is joined onstage by his lead assistant Kim for a set that incorporates audience participation, costume changes, rockin’ songs, and close-up magic projected onto a big screen.

Friday 9/8. $15–20, 7:30pm. PVCC’s V. Earl Dickinson Building, 501 College Dr. pvcc.edu

Israeli director Guy Nattiv’s new drama Golda isn’t a comprehensive biography of Israeli prime minister Golda Meir. Instead, it focuses on Israel’s 19-day Yom Kippur War in October 1973 and its aftermath. Although the film hits some sporadic high notes, it doesn’t maintain a level of quality or emotional intensity.

In wraparound sequences, Meir (Helen Mirren) faces a tribunal for the terrible human losses suffered during the Yom Kippur War. Her testimony segues into long flashbacks detailing the conflict’s rapid development, as Arab forces built up on the Israeli border, and then invaded. Working closely with military leaders like Moshe Dayan (Rami Heuberger) and David “Dado” Elazar (Lior Ashkenazi), Meir fiercely retaliates. With her country facing brutal early defeats in battle and woefully outnumbered, Meir bargains with U.S. secretary of state Henry Kissinger (Liev Schreiber) for military aid, and, eventually, to negotiate a dignified ceasefire. While carrying this hellish burden, Meir undergoes cobalt treatments for lymphoma.

Golda’s basic structure and characters are respectable and Meir herself is a potentially fascinating character. We quickly discover that her almost grandmotherly façade masks a flinty, intense, decisive leader willing to fight to the death.

With a modest budget, Nattiv wisely tells much of the story through various shots of Meir and her staff under extreme duress, thus precluding the expense of elaborate combat sequences, which are mainly conveyed by radio dispatches from several battles. And since bloodshed is heard and not shown, Golda managed to get a PG-13 rating.

Within this promising framework, Golda delivers only intermittently. Nattiv develops a satisfyingly naturalistic period atmosphere overall, and a few key scenes are gripping and memorable. But he tends to undo all this with self-conscious artiness, his camera swooping senselessly within an otherwise fine scene, wrecking its tone. This tendency toward trickiness—silly, slow-motion shots of Meir exhaling smoke or her blurry point of view while walking through a crowd of protesters—only hurts the film.  

As for the cast, Mirren is decent and has several outstanding scenes. But, even under heavy makeup, she doesn’t convincingly resemble Meir. Nattiv has her hitting the same notes repeatedly: tense, chain-smoking, or concerned. Meanwhile, Liev Schreiber is extremely miscast as Kissinger. Tall, fit, and rugged, he looks jarringly unlike the politician. Heuberger, Ashkenazi, and the rest of the supporting cast are all fine.

Screenwriter Nicholas Martin did a fairly creditable job on the script. The Yom Kippur War was considered a major Israeli defeat and a black mark on Meir’s distinguished record. Martin and Nattiv succeed at gaining sympathy for Meir, who had to act quickly under horrible pressure. But they also resort to certain tired war movie clichés (containing spoilers) and rarely vary the film’s tone.

Golda is a middling film that, in more experienced hands, could be far better. Instead, it’s destined to fall into the steady stream of by-the-numbers biopics that regularly get released and then all but vanish. But despite these criticisms, a mature human drama like this is always more welcome than another space opera or comic-book adaptation.

Golda

PG-13, 100 minutes

Regal Stonefield, Violet Crown Cinema