The Arcadian Wild creates moving, progressive bluegrass and folk in an intersection of genres that eschews tradition.
Photo by Shelby Mick.
By Aaron Irons
The Arcadian Wild finds uplift and grace amid warm harmonies on Welcome, the Music City string band’s latest effort, which blends elegance and heart-swelling dynamics with endearing revelations. Equal parts meditation and jubilation, Welcome offers connection and understanding in an era when such notions are at a premium.
Lincoln Mick formed The Arcadian Wild with Isaac Horn in 2013, segueing from guitar to mandolin to develop a sound that draws emotionally from the realms of folk, bluegrass, and pop.
“About a year after [the band] started is when Isaac joined,” says Mick. “He obviously plays the guitar—and he was a lot better than I was. We figured we didn’t need two people doing the same thing, or at least a second person doing the same job poorly. So I picked up the mandolin out of necessity just to give the band another dimension, and I’ve been stumbling my way through it since 2014. Now it’s my primary instrument.”
In 2015, the band released a self-titled debut followed by a series of singles, an EP, and in 2019, Finch in the Pantry, a streamlined and charged album that capitalized on a leaner, more calculated approach balancing tradition with innovation.
“With Finch in the Pantry, we maybe sort of had a bit of a chip on our shoulder,” Mick says. “Isaac and I didn’t actually grow up really listening to a lot of music that’s similar to the music that we make now. We didn’t listen to a lot of folk and traditional bluegrass or old-time stuff. We were listening to a lot of alt-rock and pop punk, which is really funny.”
Prone to a pop sensibility over improvisation or traditional bluegrass pickin’, The Arcadian Wild decided to “just make convoluted, thoroughly arranged music that can make an impression on people,” says Mick. “We really love that record and we’re really proud of it. We still play all of those songs very joyfully whenever we perform and we’re on the road.”
The mini-epic 2021 EP Principium evolved those arrangements through precision timing and bracing rhythms for an interpretation of the Garden of Eden in four parts with accompanying cinematic videos. Conceived a few years prior, the EP came to life during the pandemic.
“We knew we weren’t going much of anywhere, so we figured we’d dig that back up. I think it was good because we had a higher level of facility and a higher level of clarity about what we wanted things to sound like,” Mick says of the decision to revisit older material. “I think that time on the back burner served that piece really, really well.”
Now comes Welcome, a full-length album recorded in Nashville with producer Logan Matheny (Big Light Studio). It’s The Arcadian Wild having grown more seasoned, tested, and aware than ever before.
“With Welcome I think we’ve dialed back the desire to aim to impress anyone,” says Mick. “With this record, our goal was to just write songs that were as beautiful as we could possibly make them and told the truth as best as we understood it at this moment … and let’s just trust that good things are going to emerge if we’re obedient to the process.”
As The Arcadian Wild carries Welcome to the masses, the core of Mick, Horn, and Bailey Warren (fiddle) will be joined by upright bassist Eli Broxham. “Our bass player Eli, who’s on tour with us this season, he’s amazing, and he’s one of those guys who can play the upright bass like a fiddle, “ Mick says. “It’s really amusing because the bass is the most improvisatory instrument in our ensemble right now.”
“He’s been really great, gently and sweetly encouraging us to trust ourselves and take risks and not be afraid to fall down while we’re onstage and performing,” Mick says. “Whenever you step out to do a little improvising in a show, that moment happens, and then it’s gone. And then there’s so much song left. It’s like, ‘It’s okay. Just continue moving forward, everyone else is. Time has not stopped. You don’t have to wallow in your failure. There’s so much good work left to do and you’re ready to do it and it’s gonna be okay.’”
Dad’s words stung like a leather belt across my backside. “You know what you are?” he asked. “You’re quick, certain, and wrong!”
It was more than half a century ago, and I was less than 10, but the sting still lingers.
I grew up in the crowded middle of seven children, where it seemed all of us were competing to get a word in edgewise, so how was I the only one who nicked that raw nerve with Dad, the nerve that screamed, “Only a fool would fail to take the time to get it right”?
I tried to do better, but I still struck that nerve with enough regularity that when Dad began (“You know what you are?”), I cringed, because I knew what was coming next. Eventually—I think I was in my late teens—Dad’s harsh critique of my decision-making ability fell into disuse. Maybe I’d grown wiser, or maybe Dad had just grown tired of trying to correct me. Probably a little of both.
It’s been nearly 30 years since Dad died, but I’ve continued to hear “quick, certain, and wrong,” not in his voice, but in my head. Almost every time things haven’t gone as planned, I have, without forgiveness, blamed my own impatience, my own poor judgment, my own damned foolishness.
* * *
My brothers and I were clearing out my parents’ house last summer, a few weeks after our mother died, and I volunteered to clear my parents’ bedroom. Dad’s dresser had sat largely untouched since 1996, so sliding open the top drawer was like cracking open a crypt to reveal a trove of treasures buried with the deceased for his use in the afterlife.
I found the spring-top box where Dad had kept bus fare for his morning commute. I found the Swiss Army knife that was a virtual prosthetic for Dad: One minute he’d be using it to pop open a can of beer as we floated down the Shenandoah in a boat, while the next minute he’d use it to pry a hook from a trout’s mouth. I found tie clasps and cuff links that I’d seen Dad put on before Sunday Mass. I found the medals he’d earned in the service, years before he met my mom and started a family. I recognized—and left—those familiar treasures in the crypt of that top drawer.
Photo by Eze Amos.
The treasure that drew my attention was one that I didn’t recognize, though I immediately knew what it was. I was 8 years old when Dad returned home from Vietnam in 1969, sporting a battery-powered Seiko wristwatch, and here in Dad’s dresser was the wind-up Timex that came before the Seiko. It hadn’t ticked in more than half a century, and despite my winding, it produced not one tock.
The wristband was indented where Dad had buckled it every morning. He’d been a barrel-chested, physically imposing man, so I was surprised to discover that the band fit my thin wrist exactly as it had his.
I took the watch to Tuel Jewelers, where the jeweler’s eyes twinkled at the challenge of bringing the old Timex back to life.
It was during the weeks that the jeweler worked to restore Dad’s wristwatch that I began to wonder if my father’s sensitivity to my quick decisions might have been grounded as much in his own experience as it was in my own actions. I thought of instances when time had been taken from him, about moments in Dad’s life when he’d been rushed to decisions he hadn’t wanted, to conclusions that ranged from unfair to cruel.
I thought first of Dad as a skinny 13-year-old, when his father—larger than life in my dad’s telling—died of a heart attack in 1938. When the Birmingham News reported the death, the story omitted Dad’s name from among the surviving family members. Maybe the reporter was in a hurry, but the slight left a scar that Dad carried for some 50 years until I uncovered the Mobile Advertiser story of the event that included his name. Still, the strongest man in Dad’s life was gone forever, reduced to an unattainable aspiration. I thought of Dad in 1943, a flight cadet in officer training, having enlisted immediately after his 18th birthday in the hopes of catching up with his older brothers, one commanding an air squadron in Burma and the other skippering a Navy ship. But, as Dad explained it to us later, leadership concluded they “hadn’t killed off as many pilots as anticipated,” so he was shipped to Saipan with the humble rank of Private, a laborer in an ammunition ordnance company responsible for loading bombs into B-29’s piloted by young men who’d earned their wings just a bit sooner. Glory, Dad found, went to other, slightly older men of his generation.
Bill Moriarty holds Michael’s infant daughter. Photo documentation by Eze Amos.
I thought about the 1950s, after Dad left the service, married, and tried to make a go of it with his own business. Dad designed and created figurines that he sold at shops and local events, until piracy of his best products (as well as a third child on the way) compelled him to exchange that dream for a steady government paycheck. As responsibilities took precedence over dreams, Dad boxed up the last of his figurines and stashed them under a bed in the nursery, where I discovered them last summer, caked in dust.
I thought about the Friday after Thanksgiving, 1964. My parents were in the dining room that Dad had only recently finished building onto the back of our house. My mom was holding in her arms my three-week-old sister when Dad spied water streaming through the kitchen light fixture. He dashed upstairs and found me, along with my diapered little brother, turning the bathroom into a water park. Dad quickly lifted me and “put” me down on the slippery floor outside the bathroom, where I slammed into the wall—and snapped my femur. I don’t remember that it hurt, only that when Dad tried to stand me up, my leg kept sliding to the side like a puppet’s.
A few days in traction, followed by a few weeks’ recuperation in that new dining room, and I was as good as new. My mom told me later that Dad had felt terrible, but I don’t remember that he ever told me he was sorry for having been, well, quick, certain, and wrong.
I thought about that years later when it occurred to me that in 1938 Dad had not only lost a father he admired, but he’d also lost the chance to slowly learn and accept that fathers sometimes make mistakes with their sons (and vice versa); that sometimes disagreement and fault do not preclude, but instead engender, respect and even admiration.
Like most people, Dad was complex, sometimes even self-contradictory, and that’s what often made pleasing him difficult. He could tell a joke with impeccable timing. He was committed to making to-do lists and getting things done—on time. He had no patience for dithering. When it came to me, my quickness in winning races at our local swim club earned his admiration, but quick answers on more sensitive matters such as race or politics earned his admonition.
As I grew older, I made plenty of mistakes—undoubtedly many of the “quick, certain, and wrong” variety. I’ve thought about one more than all the others. My sister, the one who’d been a mere three weeks old when I suffered my broken leg, had singled me out as her “hero” since we were little. Three weeks into the second semester of her junior year in college, she made a surprise visit home. Something was troubling Molly, so on the day she was to return to school, I spent the afternoon with her. Two weeks later my mother called and said “something terrible has happened to Molly,” and I realized that her hero had been quick (to dismiss the warning signs of her depression), certain (that she would grow out of whatever was bothering her), and unforgivably wrong.
It is said that the older we get, the less we know. And so it was that on that day in February 1985, I aged decades. As horrible as the loss was for my sister’s hero, though, I knew even then that it was worse for her daddy. The loss upended Dad’s world, robbed him of precious time with his only daughter, and left him (if we had this much in common) with all the time in the world to consider the unanswerable questions that a suicide bequeaths its survivors. Life, it seemed, had pushed and shoved Dad again, this time with unspeakable cruelty.
Retirement a few months after Molly’s death brought Dad relief from the “need it an hour ago” routine that characterized his 25-year career at the Pentagon, and he finally had time for the travel with my mom that the two of them had denied themselves during their child-rearing years; both relished the timeless promise brought by four grandchildren.
Author Michael Moriarty wears the watch the once belonged to his father. Photo by Eze Amos.
Life, though, would be quick, certain, and wrong with Dad one last time. A few months after his 70th birthday, Dad contracted a virus that did its damage in a furious hurry: In the space of just days, what seemed a mere cold progressed to a terrific fever and then a seizure, which left Dad in what the doctors coldly characterized as a “permanent vegetative state.” Brain dead.
Hoping for a miracle, I was, a few days later, standing next to Dad’s bed in the ICU, holding his hand, when the nearby radio began to play Rachmaninov’s Symphony No. 2, one of the most beautiful pieces of music you could ever hear—and undoubtedly one that Dad, whose own father had taken him to concerts and instilled in him a deep appreciation of classical music, had enjoyed many times. For the first time since Dad had gone under, his eyes moved (behind closed lids) and his grip on my hand tightened. I think that what was left of his brain that night still appreciated Rachmaninov, though heaven only knows if he was aware of whose hand he gripped as he listened.
About four weeks later, Dad lay in a hospital bed in that dining room that he’d built some 30 years earlier, and again I was standing next to him, stroking his limp, withered arm, when he left this world to the strains of “Solveig’s Song,” one of Edvard Grieg’s Peer Gynt suites, which I had queued up on his stereo moments earlier. I don’t know if his battered mind and departing spirit detected either the music or the touch of my hand, but I’d like to think he took with him warm memories of both.
A photo of Bill Moriarty on Saipan, wearing the watch that would one day belong to his son. Photo documentation by Eze Amos.
Just before I was to pick up Dad’s watch from Tuel, one of my brothers uncovered from my parents’ things a wrinkled old photograph that I’d never seen before: It was my dad, 18 years old and rail-thin, standing hands on hips, squinting into the midday sun on Saipan, 1943. The photo is grainy, but on his left wrist is, unmistakably, the wind-up Timex.
I have a smart watch and a couple battery-powered watches that keep perfect time, but now I like to wear Dad’s old wind-up. It is beautiful, probably almost 90 years old. Sometimes it runs a little slow, other times a little fast. It is, in other words, like both fathers and sons: loved but also flawed, imperfect. Every morning when I take a minute to wind that watch, I remind myself to be a little more patient, a little less certain and, honestly, a little more forgiving. And when I place the watch on my wrist and buckle its cracked wristband, exactly as my dad used to do, I think of Solveig’s lament to Peer Gynt: “And if you wait above, we’ll meet there again, my friend.”
Michael Moriarty lives in Charlottesville and retired in 2023, following a career as a legal editor and project manager. He has been published in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, SwimSwam, and Medium.
Anya Taylor-Joy leads the action in Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga.
Image via Warner Bros.
Australian director George Miller’s Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga traces the origin story of the hit Mad Max: Fury Road’s heroine, Imperator Furiosa (with Anya Taylor-Joy in the role originated by Charlize Theron). Even though Max only appears for a brief cameo, this is a superior prequel that delivers everything viewers expect from the Mad Max series.
Decades after apocalyptic world wars, young Furiosa (Alyla Browne) lives in the Green Place of Many Mothers, a Shangri-La-like oasis within a vast desert. She gets snatched by scavenging bikers and taken to their barbarian leader, Dementus (Chris Hemsworth) as proof of this “Place of Abundance” where food and water abound. Her mother (Charlee Fraser) bravely tries to rescue Furiosa but is caught, tortured, and slaughtered in front of her daughter.
Dementus raises Furiosa as his surrogate child, hoping to eventually discover her homeland’s location, while he jockeys for power among the other warlords who rule the wasteland’s three fortresses. Furiosa cunningly gets adopted by the powerful Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme), who grooms her for his harem. She escapes, disguises herself as a worker boy, and gradually reemerges to become, with the friendly Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke), an indispensable driver for Immortan Joe. As Dementus tangles with the warlords, Furiosa (Taylor-Joy) patiently awaits an opportunity for revenge.
Furiosa skillfully combines the Mad Max movies’ most successful elements: breakneck chases, breathtaking stunts, bizarre villains, and—most importantly—a mythic quality. Fully enjoying Furiosa’s fundamental implausibility requires significant suspension of disbelief. For starters, with gasoline so rare, why is everybody burning through it so quickly?
But this isn’t cinema vérité: It’s a pulp allegory. Within Furiosa’s outlandish structure lies a highly engaging story of revenge and survival with a deeply sympathetic heroine. Throughout the film, Furiosa is street smart, resourceful, and relentless in countless winning ways. This indomitable female Buster Keaton stoically overcomes whatever catastrophe is thrown at her and emerges victorious.
Taylor-Joy is good, as is Burke as the genial Jack. As Dementus, Hemsworth is a worthy successor to Miller’s previous eccentric heavies: vile and deadly, but comically pompous and pretentious. It’s clear that Hemsworth, as well as other key actors, relish their roles. When portraying characters with names like Rictus Erectus, what actors wouldn’t?
Furiosa’s pacing and characterization far excel that of Fury Road. In Miller’s initial Mad Max films, occasional laconic passages between the hyper-kinetic chases allowed the audience to get acquainted with the characters. But Fury Road’s visual overkill was like an already fast-paced movie stuck in fast-forward. Fury Road felt like being dragged behind a vehicle going way too fast, while Furiosa is like riding shotgun in an ace driver’s souped-up dragster.
The tatterdemalion costumes and production design are excellent, especially considering the film’s vast scope and huge cast. The characters’ off-the-wall wardrobe crafted from a patchwork of scavenged knickknacks provides constant visual stimulation.
Furiosa’s many visual effects also blend well with the actual practical footage, but the film’s brightest stars are its stunt performers, whose no-holds-barred energy and expertise with everything from parachutes to flamethrowers is dazzling.
At 79, Miller has created an action powerhouse that would give younger directors a coronary. He masterfully orchestrates barbarian hordes—hell-bent on stealing more gasoline or sacks of potatoes—and reminds us that no living filmmaker does life after Doomsday as deftly as Miller.
The Barn Swallow Artisan Gallery 796 Gillums Ridge Rd. “Listening to Artifacts,” new works in sculpture and collage by Kim Boggs. Through July 7. First Fridays reception at 5:30pm.
Botanical Fare Restaurant 421 E. Main St. Downtown Mall. “Then And Now,” a series of conceptual photographs by Cindy Stegmeier. Through June.
Chroma Projects Inside Vault Virginia, Third St. SE. In the Micro Gallery, “Nocturne,” Peter Eudenbach’s multidisciplinary exhibit explores relationships and poetic connections. Through June 28. First Fridays reception at 5pm.
The Connaughton Gallery McIntire School of Commerce, UVA Grounds. “Virginia is for Artists,” paintings and prints by Uzo Njoku. Through June 14.
Sarah Grace Cheek at Crozet Artisan Depot.
Crozet Artisan Depot 5791 Three Notch’d Rd., Crozet. “Wild Wonder” by Lucinda Rowe features intricate biological illustrations with a focus on birds and insects. Meet the artist June 15, 11am–1pm. “Object Study” by Sarah Grace Cheek displays reimagined adaptations of life through hand- and power-carving techniques. Through June.
C’ville Arts Cooperative Gallery 118 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. “Ebb & Flow,” exploring painter and mosaicist Eileen Butler’s journey through glass and paint. Through June. First Fridays reception at 5pm.
Dovetail Design and Cabinetry 1740 Broadway St., Suite 3. “TWEETS,” acrylic and watercolor works by Matalie Deane and Juliette Swenson. Through July.
FIREFLY Restaurant & Game Room 1304 E. Market St. Whimsical paintings by Oxana Balke. Through June 30. Opening reception June 6 at 6pm.
The Fralin Museum of Art at UVA 155 Rugby Rd. “Madayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala.” Through July 14. “Patricia Michaels: Bringing Awareness for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Relatives.” Through June 10. Fralin After 5 Tasting Notes, a pairing of art and wine. June 7, 5:30pm.
Infinite Repeats Studio 1740 Broadway St. “Stale Bread” by Torie Topor (@eirotropot) features prints and other mixed media. Through June 28. First Fridays reception, 7–9pm.
Ix Art Park 522 Second St. SE. Art Mix at Ix, a fun night of painting, live music, projection art displays, and cocktails. Paint Swap Party, where artists switch canvases every 5 minutes. First Fridays, 7pm.
Journey Group 418 Fourth St. NE. “PANGRAM: The Art of Letters,” featuring small works by dozens of artists. All sales benefit Literacy Volunteers. June 7, 5pm,
Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection of UVA 400 Worrell Dr. The Charlottesville Indigenous Art Takeover. “Shifting Ground: Prints by Indigenous Australian Artists from the Basil Hall Editions Workshop Proofs Collection,” curated by Jessyca Hutchens, featuring work by 22 Indigenous Australian artists. Through October 6. “Close to the Wind,” prints, installation, and mixed media works by Lisa Waup. Through June 30.
Les Yeux du Monde 841 Wolf Trap Rd. “Passenger Manifest,” oil paintings, collage, and works on paper by Dean Dass. Through June 30.
Martin Horn 210 Carlton Rd. Images from wildlife photographer Jacob Buck. First Fridays reception 5pm.
McGuffey Art Center 201 Second St. NW. In the Smith Gallery, “In a Different Light,” pictorialist photographs by Russell Hart exploring ways humans occupy natural landscape from June 4-30. Artist talk June 16, 2–3pm. First Floor North and South Galleries, artworks by McGuffey Art Center Incubators from 2023–24. Second Floor Gallery North, “Miscellaneous Musings of a Manic Maker,” by Jill Kerttula. Second Floor Gallery South, Blake Hurt’s “Greek Landscapes.” Through June. First Fridays reception, 5:30–8pm. Y’art Sale June 8, 10am–2pm.
Anna Hogg at New City Arts.
New City Arts 114 Third St. NE. In the Welcome Gallery, “above [collecting] below [detaching] above,” a multimedia installation by Anna Hogg. Through June 27. First Fridays reception at 5pm, artist talk at 6pm.
The PVCC Gallery V. Earl Dickinson Building, 501 College Dr. The 2024 Student Art Exhibition. Through September 7.
Quirk Gallery 499 W. Main St. In “Care Less,” artist Seth Bauserman borrows the subject matter of his daughter’s drawings to explore the space between innocence and experience. Through July 28. First Fridays reception at 6pm.
Julia Kindred at Random Row Brewing Co.
Random Row Brewing Co. 608 Preston Ave. “Landscapes: Here and There,” oil paintings and pastel works by Julia Kindred. Through June.
The Rotunda UVA Grounds In the Upper West Oval Room, the Charlottesville Indigenous Art Takeover. “Waŋupini: Clouds Of Remembrance And Return.” Through July 7.
Second Street Gallery 115 Second St. SE. In the Main Gallery, “The Art of Collage” comprises works of 41 contemporary artists. In the Dové Gallery, “Paper Room,” a mixed-media and interactive exhibition by Jess Walters with Stephen Haske and Sarah Lawson. Through July 19. First Fridays events at 5:30pm.
Studio Ix 969 Second St. SE. “Journey From Grief To Art,” paintings by Colleen Rosenberry. Vivid and heartfelt representation of nature and the artist’s inner feelings about life and death. Through June. Artist’s Talk June 27, 5pm. First Fridays reception at 5pm.
The Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Charlottesville 717 Rugby Rd. Photographs by David Shoch. Through June.
Celebrating 20 years of untethered comedy in C’ville and beyond, Bent Theatre’s 2024 season is set to split your sides and make you cry (with laughter, of course). The improv troupe makes the rounds of local theaters, bars, and breweries entertaining the masses with bits and acts pulled from their asses pulled from thin air! Or from a hat? Audiences are in on the joke too, shouting out suggestions that will have everyone on hand laughing out loud.
Wednesday 6/5. Free, 7pm. Decipher Brewing, 1740 Broadway St. benttheatre.weebly.com
Hijinks and happenstance collide in one of Shakespeare’s most-loved comedies, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Set in a magical forest outside of Athens, four young lovers fight for each other’s affections on the eve of their duke’s wedding. Meanwhile, six would-be thespians create stress in an attempt to impress the duke’s marriage party, and Oberon—king of the fairies—navigates his own marital missteps. Themes of friendship, jealousy, desire, and magic are all explored in this play about the irrationality of love. Plus, in a turn of meta-commentary from the Bard, someone makes an ass out of an amateur actor.
Wednesday 6/5—Sunday 6/9. $28–78, times vary. Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 S. Market St., Staunton. americanshakespearecenter.com
The Building and Grounds Committee will discuss the new Center of the Arts to be built in the Emmet-Ivy corridor (in yellow), the new home for the Fralin and Kluge-Ruhe art museums.
Image by City of Charlottesville.
The University of Virginia has more influence and control over Charlottesville’s future than any other entity in the community. At this moment, UVA has more than a billion projects under construction, according to the packet for this week’s meeting of the Board of Visitors.
The agenda of the Buildings and Grounds Committee is a good place to see what might be happening next. Rather than meeting at their usual Thursday afternoon time, the panel will convene Friday morning. This change comes because a “leadership discussion” is scheduled for the full 17-member board on Thursday and will be followed by a closed session.
Since becoming University president in August 2018, Jim Ryan has put a priority on building connections with the greater community. The President’s Council on UVA-Community Partnerships has led to several initiatives, such as a commitment to provide land for between 1,000 and 1,500 affordable units in the community.
Another initiative in the Great and Good Strategic Plan adopted during Ryan’s tenure is to house all second-year students on campus. UVA recently announced plans to build up to 2,000 beds for this purpose on either Emmet Street or Ivy Road, with the first units planned for 2027.
On Friday morning, the Buildings and Grounds panel will get an update on the 2024 major capital plan and will review the plans for a new North Grounds parking garage.
“This is a thousand-space structured parking deck which is going to be located at the northwest corner of Massie Road and Copeley,” says Michael Joy of the UVA Office of the Architect. “It will be adjacent to all of the competition venues and the John Paul Jones Arena.”
Joy says this will allow UVA to eliminate surface parkings for future development. Some of the apartment buildings at Copeley Hill will be demolished to make way for the parking structure.
New projects to be added to the capital plan include the renovation of an engineering research facility on Observatory Mountain, a project called the Darden Global Innovation Nexus, and expansion of a child care center on Copeley Road. The lattermost project would see capacity grow from 115 children to a total of 285.
Other new initiatives will have a big impact on Charlottesville’s Fifeville neighborhood. Last year, UVA purchased the Oak Lawn estate for $3.5 million, having already purchased several properties a block to the north in 2016. Planning studies are proposed for both.
“The Grove Street planning study will consider program options for these two sites, which are likely to include UVA Health and neighborhood clinics, community uses, and parking in a mixed-use format,” reads a description in the B&G packet.
Written material for the Oak Lawn property hints at a future child care center on the 5.2-acre parcel.
The buildings panel will also approve the location and design guidelines for the new Center of the Arts to be built in the Emmet-Ivy corridor. This would be the new home for the Fralin and Kluge-Ruhe art museums as well as the music department. There will also be a 1,200-seat auditorium.
“Design is in the early stages and there will be ongoing funding efforts both with the Commonwealth and with philanthropic donors,” says Joy, who is a non-voting member of the city planning commission.
Also on the full Board’s agenda this week is a trip to the new football operations center, which will be named for Molly and Robert Hardie, the co-owners of Keswick Hall who made a large gift to support the Virginia Athletics Master Plan.
Code for Charlottesville's Jonathan Kropko says a tech gap has been growing over the last 20 years.
Supplied photo.
By Toshy Penton
You stare at the names on the ballot, none of which you recognize, and appeal to a friend: “Just tell me who to vote for.”
If you’ve ever felt uninformed in local elections, you’re not alone. One could point to any number of theories for this lack of information: social media distractions, internet misinformation (and disinformation), breakdowns of trust in democratic institutions. In 2024, election information is scattered, disorganized, and sometimes downright toxic. Compared to venture-backed technology on your smartphone, election information is inaccessible and uninteresting. But the same technology that monetizes our collected attention could instead be used to build civic attention—a collective focus on our rights and duties as citizens.
Rapid advancements in information technologies have changed the media and how we access information. Though it began as potential for a better information-sharing medium, the internet has devolved into a clickbaity, sharing-obsessed, often toxic attention economy. Under the guise of saving the world, the biggest tech companies design apps to capture attention, harvest data, and sell advertising.
“There is a tech gap that has been growing over the past 20 years,” says Jonathan Kropko, a UVA data science professor who leads Code for Charlottesville. “The gap between what a well-financed large organization can do with technology and what a cash-strapped, small organization can do with technology. Right now that gap is bigger than ever.”
While the tech gap grows, there are glimmers of hope. Nonprofit civic tech organizations like Code for America aim to “transform government systems.” Since the organization’s inception in 2009, civic technology has changed government services for the better—how veterans access their benefits, how criminal records are processed, and how we do our taxes. Take, for example, the U.S. Digital Service. Established in 2014, the technology unit (housed in the Executive Office of the President), focuses on improving federal websites, making them simpler and more accessible.
When it comes to election information, however, the government is not going to solve the problem—and both sides know it. Three retiring members of Congress who spoke to the New York Times in late April—Larry Bucshon (R—Ind.), Anna Eshoo (D–Calif.), and Doug Lamborn (R–Colo.)—all responded similarly when asked about our broken government: The American people need to fix it. The subtext? Government can’t/won’t.
If the government won’t fix our politics, civic tech could help. It could make election information accessible, informative, and interesting. This space is ripe for disruption. Every year, millions of Americans search Google for election information. Ballot research is time- and labor-intensive and the current landscape is unnecessarily convoluted, putting an undue burden on American voters.
Election and civic information should be intuitive, engaging, and among the easiest things to find on the internet.
“Data is power in many ways,” says Kropko. “If you have the capacity to collect and organize and utilize massive amounts of data it gives you a lot of power. The only missing piece is the organizational one.”
Accessible information could transform elections, government, and civic engagement. Let’s give Americans the critical information they’re looking for and hand such power to a bipartisan, socially equitable, mission-driven organization whose interest is the public good. With appropriate strategy, funding, and state-of-the-art technology, we can rejuvenate our democracy.
If we don’t prioritize civic technology, it will continue to get drowned out by big tech and for-profit inertia.
Toshy Penton is a digital marketer with a passion for politics. His website, Local Candidates, aims to simplify civic engagement with accessible information on Virginia elections and government.
Del. Katrina Callsen introduced a bill this year that would raise annual salary caps for city councils statewide up to $37,000 for the mayor and $34,000 for councilors.
Supplied photo.
Few people get into politics for the salaries, but for local and state representatives this rings especially true. Whether they’re on city council, serving in the House of Delegates, or a longtime member of the state Senate, most of Charlottesville’s legislators have a second job.
To find out more about compensation for elected officials, C-VILLE asked local legislators for their comments via email. Across the board, every member of council and state representative who responded is either working or has recently held a job outside of their elected position.
On city council, pay starts at $18,000 a year, with the mayor’s salary slightly higher at $20,000.
When he’s not attending meetings as the mayor of Charlottesville, Juandiego Wade works for Albemarle County as a Career Center Coordinator. Other councilors are also locally employed, with Natalie Oschrin working for Pippin Hill Farm & Vineyard, Brian Pinkston in facilities management at the University of Virginia, and Lloyd Snook serving as a lawyer at his own firm.
“I manage both jobs by carrying three phones everywhere I go: personal, UVA, City,” said Pinkston. “I have a degree of flexibility at my day job, which is very helpful. That said, I end up using several weeks of leave every year so that I can attend official City meetings.”
Other councilors shared their creative time-management skills for juggling multiple jobs. Oschrin splits her day, limiting her time for council-related responsibilities to before and after the work day. Still, it’s not perfect.
“I do miss out on some daytime activities, including certain boards and commissions, ceremonies, and conferences,” she said.
Private practice lawyer and city councilor Lloyd Snook makes it all fit by working late hours. “I manage by not sleeping much; I tend to go back to the office and work until 2am or later,” he shared.
In the state legislature, salaries aren’t any higher; delegates receive a base pay of $17,640 annually, with state senators earning $18,000.
Both Del. Katrina Callsen and state Sen. Creigh Deeds were in the local law scene until this April. While Deeds continues to practice, Callsen stepped down from her role as Charlottesville’s Deputy City Attorney to spend more time with family.
“At this time, I can say, happily of course, that my only other job is being a mom,” said Callsen.
While Callsen is able to hold only her elected office, she acknowledges the current salary caps are prohibitive for others. “By deliberately keeping the pay for elected officials low, we are locking out folks like single working mothers or civil servants who would otherwise make fantastic additions to the table but can’t because they simply can’t afford to serve,” she said.
“My work as a legislator makes me a better lawyer, and my work as a lawyer makes me a better legislator,” said Deeds about his jobs. “I have always thought that compensation was on the low end of fair.”
According to income guidelines for Housing and Urban Development programming in 2022, current salaries for local legislators qualify as “extremely low income.” Charlottesville’s area median income as of 2024 is $124,200 for a family of four.
Discussions of compensation for elected officials in Virginia have been a point of contention for years, with a bill introduced by Callsen this year that would raise salary caps for city councils statewide. Under House Bill 456, Charlottesville’s salary caps could increase to $37,000 annually for the mayor and $34,000 for other councilors.
Among proponents of the current compensation rates for local legislators, one justification for the pay is that both Charlottesville City Councilors and state legislators are considered part-time roles, despite the demands of the position.
“It is sometimes argued that raising pay for City Councilors will make it possible for more different kinds of people to serve; I’m not sure that that is true,” said Snook.
Other local leaders acknowledged both the positives and negatives of holding multiple roles.
“I think my roles definitely influence one another,” Wade said. “I constantly have a strong pulse on what is going on in the community.”
“Serving on Council is an honor and a privilege; it’s not the sort of thing you would ever do ‘just’ for financial reasons. That said, it is incredibly time-intensive,” said Pinkston. “More than that, you end up ‘carrying’ things for the City and its residents around with you—their concerns, struggles, hopes, fears, and so on—pretty much all the time. So while it’s an honor to do these things, it would be lovely to have a bit more stipend to go along with it.”
At the state level, compensation for legislators remains comparatively low. In contrast to other states whose legislative positions carry similar time commitments—which have an average compensation of $41,110 annually, according to Ballotpedia—Virginia’s compensation for its delegates and state senators is strikingly little.
Compared to the salaries of legislators, gubernatorial compensation averages at a much higher rate. Gov. Youngkin’s salary, for example, is $175,000 per year—even higher than the average of $148,939.
The decision to reinstate resource officers in city public schools has been put off until 2025, as decided by the Charlottesville School Board.
Photo by John Robinson.
Delayed vote
The Charlottesville School Board voted on Thursday, May 30, to delay a decision on reinstating School Resource Officers in city schools until 2025. Now referred to as “Youth Resource Officers,” SROs (YROs) have not served in Charlottesville schools since they were replaced with Care and Safety Assistants in 2020.
Several teachers, students, parents, and community members appeared at the Charlottesville School Board meeting in opposition to these cops returning to schools, including members of the Charlottesville Education Association, the union representing the faculty and staff of Charlottesville City Schools. It was the Association’s Representative Assembly that recently voted unanimously to send a resolution opposing the return of YROs to the school board.
Shannon Gillikin, president of CEA, read the resolution at the meeting. “[The resolution] opposes the employment of police officers in [Charlottesville] schools,” arguing that their presence would not promote safety, instead citing “restorative justice and community outreach programs” as alternative ways to use the money that would be spent on employing YROs.
Other speakers at the meeting advocated for similar causes. Christine Esposito, a gifted program specialist at Walker Upper Elementary School, questioned how the school board has the funds to employ officers while so many staff positions go unfunded. According to the Charlottesville Police Department, the addition of YROs would cost nearly $600,000 for the first year. Esposito expressed that this is not a conversation to be had “until we can fund our desperately needed instructional positions.”
Many pleaded for transparency from the school board in making this decision, given the rigorous process to remove YROs in the first place.
About face
Thanks to a petition signed by more than 1,000 community members, Piedmont Community College nursing student Mustafa Abdelhamid will continue his studies at UVA Medical Center. The nursing student’s externship was rescinded following an arrest at the UVA encampment earlier this month, but on Wednesday, May 29, Police Chief Tim Longo modified his No Trespassing Order (NTO) to allow Abdelhamid back on Grounds.
The decision was made after the University was met with action by community organizers.
The UVA Chapter of the American Association of University Professors issued a petition following the University’s denial to reconsider their decision to ban Mustafa from University property. The petition describes the decision as “prejudicial to his minority status” and raises concern for the supposed infringement on the student’s rights.
It’s a start
A $9 million settlement between the University of Virginia and the families of Devin Chandler, Lavel Davis Jr., and D’Sean Perry—the three students who were killed in a shooting on Grounds on November 13, 2022—was approved on Friday, May 31, by a judge in Albemarle County Circuit Court. The settlement grants $2 million to each of the families and $3 million between Mike Hollins and Marlee Morgan, two students who were injured in the shooting.
Saying goodbye
Beloved local restaurateur Mel Walker passed away on Tuesday, May 28. His eponymous West Main Street restaurant was one of the oldest Black-owned businesses in the city, having opened in 1984. Walker was a fixture in the community, born in the Vinegar Hill neighborhood and earning his restaurant chops in a variety of local kitchens. His absence leaves the future of Mel’s Cafe hanging in the balance. Visit gofundme.com/f/help-keep-mels-cafe-open to donate to the family’s fundraiser.
Mel Walker. Photo by John Robinson.
Standing O
The second round of grants for the National Endowment for the Arts’ 2024 fiscal year included a $20,000 award to Live Arts, the first for the local theater in its 33-year history. According to a press release, the grant will “advance the theater’s multi-year effort to diversify the stories on its stage” by supporting its third annual WATERWORKS festival.
In total, 20 grants were awarded to organizations in Virginia, four of which were in Charlottesville.
