Megan and Rock Watson of Sliced. Cake Bar know that times are tough, but it’s as important as ever to celebrate milestones and holidays. They post regularly about their offerings on Facebook and Instagram (@sliced.cakebar), and are running a Mother’s Day special: Get 15 percent off orders of $25 or more until May 10. Photos by John Robinson
Growing up, Megan Watson ate a lot of great food at home. Her mother cooked delicious meals in the way of Julia Child. But she was also very health-conscious and “not a baker,” says Megan (i.e., not into sugar). The family enjoyed treats like cakes for celebrations only, and for Megan, every slice was its own special occasion.
“It didn’t matter what kind of cake it was, or where it was from,” she says, laughing. “If it was called ‘cake,’ I was going to eat it.”
When Megan married and had her own family, she baked cakes for birthdays and other special occasions. And her cakes were good. Really, really good, says her husband, Rock Watson, who, like his wife, didn’t eat a lot of homemade cake growing up (“because of my circumstances,” he says, he was more of a Little Debbie snacks kind of guy). But when his grandmother did make one, it was bliss.
Now the Watsons share their mutual love of cake with all of Charlottesville via their mobile bakery, Sliced. Cake Bar.
As its name suggests, Sliced. offers cake by the slice, in addition to whole cakes, and cake pops. And, because it’s based around a bar concept, cake flights (like a wine-tasting flight, but with multiple flavors of cake) and buttercream frosting shots are on the menu, too. And the flavors are endless: chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream, strawberry with vanilla, coconut, confetti, lemon, carrot cake…the list goes on.
The Watsons usually set up at the Key’s Corner Indoor City Market and tow their adorable bakery trailer to local vineyards like Grace Estate and King Family. Megan bakes for weddings, baby showers, graduations, retirement parties, and those “just because” orders, too. More than anything, the Watsons love hearing the stories behind why folks chose a certain flavor—and laugh when customers breathe a sigh of relief upon finding out there are no raisins in Sliced.’s carrot cake.
Sliced. began after Megan semi-retired from her social worker job with Region Ten. Word of her baking prowess had gotten around, and she was getting requests for custom cakes. Oftentimes, she’d do it just for the cost of supplies and the knowledge that she’d made someone’s day, but eventually Rock encouraged her to make a business out of it. The couple established Sliced. in summer 2017, and it began to pick up speed after the Watsons participated in the Charlottesville Investment Collaborative’s entrepreneurship workshop.
Like many local small business owners, the pair had big plans for 2020: Park their trailer at more spots and grow their social media presence (the photos of Watson family members in the quippy “Sliced, Sliced Baby” and “Cake Slayer” shirts are aces). They were also set to move the baking operation into a commercial kitchen. After a busy February, they seemed poised for success, but in March, it all screeched to a halt. Markets, wineries, and other spots closed, and Megan, who bakes every item from scratch, didn’t feel safe preparing food for others to eat until she knew more about the COVID-19 virus and how it was spread.
After sorting out safest baking and delivery practices, plus a few other things with the help of the CIC, Sliced. is once again open for curbside pickup as well as contactless delivery orders. It’s reopened not just for business reasons, but to bring a bit of sweetness to the city.
When life feels difficult and uncertain and terrifying, as it does during a global pandemic, it’s important to still “take a moment to think of the things that we’re grateful for, and what we can celebrate,” says Megan. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and other milestones don’t just stop when times are tough, and continuing to mark them as we normally would—perhaps with a cake—can be a great comfort.
“When you’re facing adversity or crisis, finding that silver lining in things—that reason to celebrate, to raise your spirit—raises your hope,” adds Rock. “Hopefully with cake, we can be part of that encouragement. During this time, there’s still reason to celebrate.”
Local radio stations are still on the air, but station managers and on-air hosts have had to make some changes in how (and where) they broadcast. Illustration by Mike Gorman
Radio is easily taken for granted, in part because it’s invisible and, in most cases, ubiquitous. Program hosts and DJs keep us company in rush-hour traffic or during the workday. They keep us informed when the power’s out or the internet’s down, but the transmitter’s still going. Radio is as essential as it is entertaining, and as the COVID-19 pandemic goes on, so must the shows.
Local stations are taking safety precautions like limiting studio access and suggesting hosts wear masks and gloves and wipe down mics, headphones, and other surfaces with disinfectant before and after their shifts. But each station is unique, and other tweaks vary depending on a station’s size, reach, and what sort of programming it offers.
Since March 12, WNRN 91.9 FM jocks have worked almost exclusively from home, says station General Manager and Program Director Mark Keefe. The locally owned nonprofit station broadcasts from multiple transmitters—in Charlottesville, Richmond, and Lynchburg—and already had a system in place, as well as enough spare mics, consoles, and cords to get DJs on the air from anywhere with an internet connection. (Volunteer DJs did not get a rig, so on-staff folks are now covering those slots.)
In the absence of the live in-studio sessions with Virginia bands, WNRN upped its play count of local acts like Lowland Hum and David Wax Museum. It’s not the same, says Keefe, but it’s something.
Things haven’t changed much at WCNR 106.1 FM The Corner, another adult alternative station, owned by national media company Saga Communications, which is headquartered in Michigan. Morning show host and Program Director Kendall Stewart, as well as her counterparts, could work from home, but are still going in. Stewart’s “Community Corner” segment now highlights creative ways folks are helping each other out during the pandemic, while news breaks are solely about COVID-19, and pandemic-related PSAs by major label artists like HAIM and Leon Bridges are aired.
She’s had to re-think the station’s “Corner Lounge,” which previously brought touring artists into the station for a live set before a show at an area venue. Now in the “Long Distance Lounge,” she hosts bands like Best Coast and Illiterate Light over the phone or via Instagram Live. “I’m not about to let that go away,” says Stewart.
Nathan Moore, general manager of WTJU 91.1 FM, a non-commercial station owned and operated by the University of Virginia, agrees that continuing to provide a sense of normalcy to listeners is paramount, though it’s taking a bit of radio magic.
WTJU is a freeform station, which means individual DJs in the jazz, classical, folk, and rock departments have complete control over what they play on their shows. It broadcasts live 21 hours a day, with the help of six paid staff members and dozens of volunteer DJs (including this reporter). Some DJs go into the station, while others create their shows in advance and stream that file into the on-air studio. Some broadcast live remotely, using personal computers and headphones, in addition to pretty intricate tech workarounds developed by station staff.
WPVC 94.7 FM, a progressive nonprofit community station that airs a variety of news, talk, arts, and music programming, including Spanish-language material, may be one of the hardest hit of our local stations—it’s had to adjust both its show schedule and its personnel. “A lot of our volunteers are either in the high-risk category due to age or pre-existing conditions, or they care for someone who’s high risk,” and have to avoid the station, says co-founder and manager Jeff Lenert. Instead, WPVC now carries a mostly automated, non-commercial stream from Free Speech Television, which includes some of the shows already familiar to WPVC listeners, such as “Democracy Now!” and the nationally syndicated “The Stephanie Miller Show.”
But the station—which has seen its already lean rainy day fund depleted by legal fees incurred in an ongoing FCC lawsuit brought against it and four other locally owned, low-power stations last fall by Saga Communications—is “struggling,” says Lenert. “We might not be on the air next month.”
Lenert’s in a difficult position. He doesn’t feel right asking for money from underwriters who are in dire financial straits themselves, or asking for donations that could go to a food bank instead. If WPVC goes off the air, there will be fewer black and brown voices on local airwaves, and the community will be without its only Spanish-language radio news outlet. “I lose sleep knowing that,” says Lenert.
The other stations we spoke with are bigger than WPVC and don’t yet share Lenert’s financial worries. And both WTJU and WNRN, who rely on listener donations for much of their operating budgets, held rather successful fundraising drives in April.
“People want something reliable” right now, says Keefe. When “the reliable disappears, it becomes even more bleak.”
Mel Walker has always offered takeout at his eponymous soul food diner, but most of his business comes from eat-in and catering orders. “It’s not the same money right now. But we’re hanging in there,” he says, thanks in part to support from his loyal customers.
Standing in the Chimm dining room, Jay Pun felt a sense of unease. It was the weekend of March 7, and the tables were full of diners noshing on Thai and southeast Asian street food dishes.
“This is really starting to freak me out,” said one of Pun’s employees, who was also surveying the scene. Pun had to agree. COVID-19 was becoming an increasing threat, and it was nearly impossible to look around the dining room without cringing at the sound of a sneeze or a cough, or wondering who among them might be an asymptomatic carrier.
“It’s every restaurateur’s dream to have a packed house, to always have a business going,” says Pun, but that night, the dream started to feel more like a nightmare.
Pun, who co-owns both Chimm and Thai Cuisine & Noodle House, had good reason to worry: Just a few days later, on March 11, the World Health Organization would classify COVID-19 a global pandemic, and a few days after that, on March 16, the City of Charlottesville announced its first confirmed case.
On March 17, Governor Ralph Northam issued a public health emergency order for restaurants to enforce a 10-patron limit, and by March 23, he ordered them closed for service other than takeout and delivery.
Once that mandate came down, eateries had to decide what to do next: Close indefinitely? Expand an existing takeout business? Build a takeout program from the ground up? Lay off employees so they could start collecting unemployment benefits, or try to keep some on in a modified way?
These are not easy decisions to make. The Charlottesville area has a high number of restaurants per capita (not to mention significant wedding and tourism industries), and the restaurant and hospitality industry employs a significant percentage of the local population. Reductions in hours and service options affect thousands of workers and their families.
And while those decisions have varied greatly from restaurant to restaurant, and continue to shift each week, the desired outcome—survival—is the same across the board.
“There are a lot of formats that make sense” in how to maintain a business right now, says Ben Clore, co-owner of Oakhart Social and Little Star, both located on West Main Street. “Every restaurant should do what’s best for them.”
At first, Clore says, they reduced staff and tried takeout (using a combined menu for both places) to clear out the pantry and see how it went. But after weighing potential health and financial risks against benefits and rewards, Clore and his business partners decided that moving to a takeout model just wasn’t worth it. Both spots are closed for now.
Just down the street at Mel’s Café, Mel Walker continues to prepare his full soul food menu. Mel’s has always offered takeout, but the catering and dine-in side of the business “was a lot more money,” says Walker. “It’s not the same money right now. But we’re hanging in there.”
Walker’s had to buy more containers and utensils than he usually does, and says packing to-go orders requires more work than prepping eat-in plates. And as restaurant suppliers start to run out of certain things, most notably fresh meat (a number of America’s largest meat processing plants have had to shut down due to COVID-19 outbreaks among workers), he’s a little worried about being able to get all the ingredients he needs.
Jay Pun’s restaurants, Thai Cuisine & Noodle House and Chimm, already had takeout systems in place, which has helped during the shutdown. Photo: John Robinson
Before the pandemic, Pun estimates between one-quarter and one-third of his restaurants’ business came from takeout orders. “Looking back, I’m glad we had that in place,” says Pun.
Business is doing well enough that he hasn’t had to lay off any employees. And for those who don’t feel comfortable working in the restaurant space, despite everyone wearing masks and gloves and taking extra cleaning precautions (like trading natural products from Method and Seventh Generation for CDC-recommended Lysol and Clorox-type cleaners), Pun’s tried to give them back-end work if they want it.
“So far so good, knock on wood,” says Pun. “I don’t know if it’s a trend, if it will continue, or if it’ll get even busier.”
Other spots, like Moose’s By the Creek in Hogwaller and Ivy Inn on Old Ivy Road, are doing takeout for the first time.
“It’s going as good as it can go,” says Moose’s co-owner Amy Benson. Moose’s now offers its full menu of diner staples, including breakfast, at expanded hours (9am to 5pm Wednesday through Saturday), plus special family-style meals on Sundays. “You just have to find the thing that keeps people coming back,” she says. Demand has been high enough that Benson says she’s been able to keep on all five of Moose’s full-time employees.
After Moose’s closed its dining room following the weekend of March 15, some regulars pressed to come in in groups of nine or less, but Benson wouldn’t allow it. She adores both her regular customers and her employees, and it wasn’t worth the risk.
“Hopefully we’ll get through this and get going again,” she says.
After initially closing his restaurant, the Ivy Inn’s Angelo Vangelopoulos is now serving takeout Wednesday through Saturday. Photo: John Robinson
Angelo Vangelopoulos closed the Ivy Inn’s dining room after that second weekend in March, too. Like Pun, the chef-owner had a growing sense of unease at seeing his restaurant full of people, and kept thinking, “We’re doing the wrong thing to make this better.”
Vangelopoulos, who’s been with the restaurant since 1995, made the decision to close temporarily. Takeout didn’t seem like an option for the Ivy Inn’s upscale seasonal American cuisine. “We’re not a carry-out restaurant; we’re not equipped for it,” says Vangelopoulos. And he wanted his employees to be able to apply for unemployment as soon as possible. “I knew the line would only get longer,” he says.
“It was one of the toughest days I’ve lived through. We’ve got almost 30 people that rely on us for their well-being and income. And there’s a pretty tight social structure inside a restaurant, too—we consider each other family, we take care of each other. That was really hard, getting the message out to my people.”
But the restaurant was losing $800 every day it remained fully closed, so, as it became clear that stay-at-home directives wouldn’t be ending anytime soon, takeout seemed worth a try. After taking a week to figure out menus and ordering systems, and purchase takeout containers, the Ivy Inn now does carryout four days a week, with a different daily menu, Wednesday through Saturday (Thursday is “Mr. V’s Greek Night,” an homage to Vangelopoulos’ father, who’s now helping out in the kitchen and who owned and ran a restaurant in Springfield for many years).
To keep costs as low as possible, Vangelopoulos and his family are handling everything themselves, and like many restaurant owners, he notes that takeout is even more work than eat-in. There are lots of moving parts, from taking orders to prepping food to texting with customers waiting in the parking lot. “I am not joking you when I say we are working more now than before we closed, and we were open seven days a week,” says Vangelopoulos.
“I’m fully happy running with a lower profit margin at this time to really survive, to keep a little bit of cash flow coming into the checking account,” says Vangelopoulos. It also helps that his landlord has told him not to worry about rent right now.
For PK Ross, owner and flavor virtuoso of Splendora’s Gelato on the Downtown Mall, the COVID-19 pandemic has made her think differently about her business. Immediately after the governor issued the stay-at-home order, she moved to carry-out only and added delivery. She has kept only one employee, her general manager, on the books. “Customers are ordering, but it’s nowhere near our walk-in business,” she says, in part because nobody’s out on the Downtown Mall.
Normally at this time of year, Ross would be making between 18 and 24kg of chocolate gelato per week, one of the shop’s biggest sellers. Last week, she made eight.
“Customers are ordering, but it’s nowhere near our walk-in business,” says PK Ross of Splendora’s. Photo: John Robinson
Even before the pandemic began, Ross had planned to close her Downtown Mall storefront in August. “Holding on until this mess lifts was my initial hope…so that I could have a farewell summer with my customers,” she says. But now she’s thinking of keeping Splendora’s going beyond the summer, in a different spot, and with something close to the model she’s currently operating—a scaled-down shop with more emphasis on delivery.
Even the most seasoned restaurateurs aren’t sure what’s next, and as the pandemic continues, the situation only grows more complicated. Already, one local restaurant—the Downtown Grille—has closed its doors for good. To receive the federal Paycheck Protection Program loans many small businesses are applying for right now, restaurants would have to keep their entire staff on the payroll. But between state unemployment benefits and the additional $600 per week federal benefit, many workers who have been able to qualify are making more direct income on unemployment than they would in a restaurant. And even if restaurants are allowed to open in the next few months, customers, servers, and cooks still might not feel safe congregating in dining rooms and kitchens.
At this point, it’s impossible to know what the industry will look like in even a few months. But for now, many are grateful for the community support they’ve received, both from the funds set up to help their employees, and from takeout orders. Pun notes that “people are so much kinder than they ever were, which has been awesome.” Even in the best of times, customers typically don’t tip enough or at all on takeout, but Pun’s noticed that lately, folks are tipping the standard 15 to 20 percent, if not more.
And Walker’s glad he can maintain relationships with his loyal customers, relationships he’s established through reliably serving hamburgers, fried chicken, cornbread, and collards for years. “I want the whole community to know how much I appreciate the support. I want everyone to stay safe and try to do the best they can to get through this,” he says. “I’ve been in the restaurant business a long time, and ain’t nobody seen anything like this before.”
Walter Slawski (of Shebeen Pub & Braai and The Catering Outfit) has worked with Sysco Food Service of Virginia to establish a twice-weekly food pantry for laid-off restaurant and hospitality workers. Photo: John Robinson
Feeding the cooks
South African eatery Shebeen Pub & Braai and its sister restaurant/catering biz The Catering Outfit are among the local spots that have stayed open, serving takeout and chef-prepared meal kit offerings. And in a partnership with Sysco Food Service of Virginia, they’ve also opened a food pantry to help unemployed restaurant workers (including some of their own) stock their home kitchens.
“I know what my employees are going through,” says Shebeen and Catering Outfit owner Walter Slawski. “Not only are we trying to create revenue streams” to pay them if they want to work right now, “we’re trying to help people.”
Sysco’s provided more than $25,000 worth of groceries, says Slawski, and they’re relying on private donations from the community, too. So far they’ve given out more than $32,000 worth of food to over 1,000 food service and event workers.
The pantry is open Mondays and Thursdays from 11am to 2pm in the Shebeen parking lot, and what’s in each pre-packed bag varies from pickup to pickup. Sometimes it’s a lot of dry goods and refrigerator items like cold cuts, bacon, and juice, or fruit like bananas and oranges. One week, LittleJohns donated bags of potato chips and bread. Sysco’s donations are a little more on the wild side—five-pound bags of macaroni, for instance—but Slawski says there’s been nothing but gratitude.
Any restaurant and hospitality industry worker can visit the pantry, which Slawski says operates on an honor system: People will be asked where they work, or used to work, prior to the pandemic, but that’s it. “We don’t turn anybody away.”
"Dreams" by Netherlandish artist Frijke Couman is one of the pieces featured in Second Street Gallery's "Bond/Bound," which address the complicated experience of adjusting to life during a pandemic. Image courtesy the artist
Throughout the month of March, sad email after sad email landed in Kristen Chiacchia’s inbox. Art fairs postponed, gallery shows canceled, museums closed to the public—and then there were the news reports.
The Second Street Gallery executive director and chief curator decided to close her gallery on March 13, but she didn’t want to contribute to the deluge of despair if she didn’t have to.
Instead of focusing on what SSG couldn’t do for patrons and artists at this time (they’ve had to postpone four exhibitions at this point), Chiacchia and Outreach and Events Coordinator Lou Haney decided to put expertly curated exhibitions online.
And on Wednesday, April 15, the gallery launched “Bond/Bound,” on a new site, virtualssg.org. The exhibit, which takes stock of the complex, complicated experience of adjusting to life during a pandemic, is the first show the gallery has curated specifically for the web.
Haney had the idea for “Bond/Bound” as she started contemplating the dichotomy of bonding with other people—either those we’re already physically and emotionally close to, or the millions of complete strangers suddenly sharing our experience—during a time when we are bound to our homes.
One-hundred-and-eleven artists from around the world submitted work, and SSG accepted a little less than half for the exhibition, which covers a variety of media, from sculpture to collage to video. Viewers can click on individual images for a closer look, and to read the artists’ statements.
“‘Dreams’ visualizes the feeling of self isolation for me. The desire for being close to other human beings,” explains Netherlandish artist Frijke Coumans of her photograph, in which a man lies sleeping on a bed in a pair of boxer-briefs, mannequin arms draped over his body. “Seeing videos of hugging friends and people being close to each other almost starts to feel unreal,” she writes.
Hanna Washburn, based in Beacon, New York, thought a lot about the term “shelter in place” as she created “Hive,” a soft sculpture hanging in a tree that “emulated a home, and [is] constructed from the materials of home,” including her old backpack, a rug from her childhood, two of her T-shirts, and a work blouse from her mom, all in hues of pink, red, and white.
Other statements explain how the pandemic has affected artists’ creative processes. “The gloom hanging over our global heads has filtered into my work,” writes Chris Gregson, a Fredericksburg, Virginia, artist whose black-and-blue sumi ink grid of shapes on paper is a stark departure from his usual work, which he describes as “life-confirming abstract oil paintings rooted in the joys of spring.”
“Fairies always did admire the crocodiles,” by Madeleine Rhondeau-Rhodes. Image courtesy of the artist
Charlottesville artist Madeleine Rhondeau-Rhodes submitted “Fairies always did admire the crocodiles,” a collage in which a human-rabbit figure, wearing moth wings both on its back and as clothing, carries a crocodile away from a house, against a purple-red-blue sky. “The pandemic has forced me to further retreat into my own imagination,” Rhondeau-Rhodes writes.
It’s unusual for artist statements to play such a prominent role in an exhibition, but for “Bond/Bound,” “in some cases, the statement was just as important as the work,” says Chiacchia.
Take Penny Chang’s 38-second movement piece, “If You Came This Way,” presented in black-and-white video. The camera focuses on Chang’s open palm as she spins around her bedroom, then wraps herself in an embrace, and holds her own hand. Chang’s statement deepens the viewer’s understanding of the piece: For the past 10 months, she’s been home alone, recovering from a traumatic brain injury sustained after a tree branch fell on her head in New York City’s Washington Square Park. Even before the pandemic, she knew the difficulty of isolation.
Chiacchia anticipates that COVID-19 will change the way we look at, and interact with, art. “We’ve taken for granted being able to just pop into a gallery on a Saturday afternoon, or go to a museum,” she says. And though she hopes people will once again fill those spaces when it’s safe to do so, she plans to continue adapting SSG’s exhibits for the web. SSG may even hold more online-only exhibitions.
At this point, it’s cliché to declare that a lot of great art will come out of this period in history; artists always create work as a response to the world around and within them, and the coronavirus pandemic will be no different. “Bond/Bound” offers an early look at some of this work, and how it will evolve from here. Whether some of these images become tropes of this period in time, or stand as original reactions, is impossible to tell, says Haney. But in this moment, they’re evidence of the ties that bind us.
Fernando Garay, a master barber, instructor, and owner of House of Cuts Barber Studio, stands outside of his shop, which is closed due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Cutting hair isn’t just about style, he says. It’s about taking care of people. Photo by Eric Kelley
You’ve thought about it. Looked in the bathroom mirror and considered the scissors in the drawer. Caught your reflection in a car window and wondered if you still have those clippers. Picked up a bowl and contemplated whether those ’90s cuts were all that bad.
Per Governor Ralph Northam’s orders, barber shops and salons are closed as part of social distancing measures, and barbers and stylists are out of work. You trust them with shears, razors, and all manner of chemicals close to your face (not to mention your personal secrets), so trust them when they advise against cutting your own hair.
Hair says a lot about a person. “If you look good, you feel good,” says Sarah Hatch, master stylist, educator, and owner of Ederra Salon. “And when people are feeling less than good,” like many are right now, “they want instant gratification, to have it done, to feel better.” She understands why people might be tempted to do their own hair, especially if they’re attending work meetings via Zoom.
But Hatch says there are risks to playing salon, particularly in regards to chemical treatments like perms, straighteners, and dyes. One wrong move and you could have a lot less hair to care for.
And when it comes to the cut, well, that’s complicated, too. “Hair cutting is geometry,” says Hatch. No two people have the same head of hair, and so stylists and barbers spend years learning that craft. “Face shapes and other shapes come into play, and if you have any kind of whorls or cowlicks or spins in your hair, you could think you’re cutting half an inch off, but next thing you know, it’s two inches shorter. There’s such a small margin for error, I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I can only imagine there will be hair horror stories from people trying to DIY stuff,” agrees Destinee Wright, a stylist specializing in black hair care who runs Luxie Hair Services. “It’s a pandemic. You don’t gotta be cute for a pandemic!”
Destinee Wright of Luxie Hair Services is offering online tutorials for her clients so that they can learn to braid and take care of their own hair during the pandemic. Photo courtesy of subject
But if you must, there are ways to do it, like watching YouTube tutorials for up-dos, or using bobby pins, headbands, and wraps to mix things up. “Get it poppin’ with cute little hair clips. Maybe order some from a small business,” says Wright. “For a lot of natural folks, some of us have dreams of having these big, luxurious afros. [Maybe] now’s the time to let it grow. Just do your research first.”
Wright agrees that hairstyle is tied into self-care, so she’s hosting online braiding tutorials—complete with counseling on technique, products, and tools—for existing clients and anyone else who wants to tune in.
Fernando Garay, master barber, licensed instructor, and owner of House of Cuts Barber Studio, misses his shop and his people. He’s created a space where his clients, many of whom are young black and Latinx men, can gather and relax, be themselves, and either choose to shoot the shit or have deeper conversations about life’s ups and downs.
Cutting hair is about more than “keeping the community fresh,” says Garay. It’s about taking care of people, and he’s found that “people take care of you if you take care of them.” One of Garay’s clients has continued to pay for his weekly cuts, even though the shop’s closed.
“I’ve been there for people’s funerals, I’ve been there for people’s weddings, graduations, all kinds of stuff, even just the everyday ‘need to get clean,’” says Garay. And he’s as committed as ever to supporting his clients: “If I’m not cutting hair, I’m not getting my hair cut,” he says, laughing. “We’re in this together.”
Whenever craftsman Guery Guzman shops for materials, his imagination races: Is there potential in that old metal gas pump nozzle in a pile of junk at the flea market? (Yes, tons.) What could be done with the cast-iron lamp covered in cobwebs in the corner of the antique shop? (Return it to its former glory.) What about that tattered pulley hanging from the barn rafters? (Turn it into a lamp.)
Guzman has been collecting and restoring antiques for years, and a few years ago, he tried his hand at repurposing the ones that couldn’t be saved entirely. It pained him to see an old wooden dolly collect dust in a flea market or a child’s wagon decay in the weather, when it was clear to him how many hours of labor a fellow craftsman had put into it.
And while Guzman creates all sorts of furniture and home accessories for his Antiques Plus A Twist business, it’s his lamps that really turn his customers on.
With just a bit of electrical outfitting (a skill Guzman learned from his extremely handy grandfather, an airplane body fabricator who also made custom orthopedic devices, among other things) and some light bulbs, Guzman can transform a slatted wooden produce box into a pendant lamp, or an old farm-weathered yoke into a chandelier. He’s combined a wooden coat rack, wrought-iron bracket, and bulbous old Jack Daniels bottle into a single floor lamp. He’s made lamps from ukuleles, toy violins, surveyors’ tripods, sprinkler spigots, and so much more, always attempting to maintain the integrity of the original piece.
Where others may see junk, Guzman sees creative opportunities, as these lamps he made from a globe and a surveyor’s tripod demonstrate.
“You have to look at things from different angles, from different perspectives, or else you don’t find the beauty in it,” he says.
Guzman’s able to tease humor out of some items, too: That old gas-pump nozzle? He threaded some wire through it and affixed a bulb to the end so that bright light—rather than gasoline—drips out. Recently, he came across an old blow torch, intact but not working, and is thinking about how he might use electricity to evoke the narrow blue flame of a functional torch.
“The reason why I like lights more than furniture or other things,” says Guzman, “is because I know how lights affect life, mood.” Looking to add warmth? Try a lamp. Some history? A lamp can do that, too. Nostalgia? Visual interest? A little absurdity? An art piece? Lamps can do it all. They can transform a space in the way that a new coat of paint, or a new set of furniture, can, but via a lot less effort and money.
Guzman hopes that his lamps will inspire people to try their own hand at repurposing, whether it’s with found items or family heirlooms. It’s a wonderful way to move through life, he says, seeking the potential beauty and artfulness in everything, in part because it sheds light on more than just living room walls. “You can truly turn nothing into something.”
So you want to put together a home stereo system—but you’re not sure where to start.
Rather than turn to the overwhelming bounty of information on the internet, where gear talk can be confusing, seek the advice of an expert, instead. Ours is Wavley Groves III, of EccoHollow Art+Sound in Staunton. Groves knows what he’s talking about: He took his first steps at a Virginia Beach radio station, worked in record shops throughout his 20s, played in and served as an audio engineer for several bands, and worked in the National Radio Astronomy Observatory’s development laboratory where, among other things, he built low-noise cryogenic microwave amplifiers (including some for NASA). At EccoHollow, he and fellow gearhead Matt Bailie repair and sell all manner of audio gear, build custom amps and effects, offer recording services, and much more.
There’s plenty of high-quality (and sometimes affordable) new gear for sale in stores like Crutchfield, but now is a great time to assemble a secondhand home sound system. “We have 60 or so years of hi-fi equipment out there,” says Groves, “and guys like me that can repair stuff.” While it’s true that vintage gear may need to be fixed and top-of-the line pieces can be costly, “there is some really nice stuff that’s being ignored,” he says. And if you nose around yard sales and pawn and antique shops, or click through eBay or Facebook Marketplace, you’ll discover a rich but affordable vein of coveted brands like Marantz, Bose, Technics, Pioneer, Boston Acoustics, JBL, Audiolab, Nakamichi, and others.
Groves advises first asking yourself: How do I prefer to listen to music? If streaming’s your thing, a lot of new stereos are set up for that, either via Bluetooth or A/V cable connection. If you’ve got a hard drive full of mp3 and wav. files, you can set up an old computer as a music server and connect a decent set of speakers.
Things get a bit more complicated with physical media: CDs, cassette tapes, and vinyl. The latter requires the most gear—usually a turntable, a preamp/tuner, and speakers. Groves says that a good rule of thumb is to buy components from the time period when your preferred format was king. For vinyl, that’s the 1960s through the early ’80s and for CDs and cassettes, the 1980s through the early 2000s.
Once you know what you need, it’s time to consider the budget. “If you pay attention and you’re patient, you can build a really nice system for not a ton of money,” says Groves. Before you buy, do a bit of research online about a model that grabs your interest. Pull up Google to see if that particular Technics turntable has a fussy switch, or if it’s a stalwart—or get advice from a gearhead friend. If possible, before you pay for a piece, plug it in, turn the knobs, flick the switches, see if everything works.
If it does, great. But finding a flaw in an item doesn’t necessarily mean you should pass it up, says Groves. For example, if you can get an imperfect Pioneer receiver from the 1970s or a set of Marantz speakers for a steal, it’s well worth your money to foot the repair bill. (Groves and Bailie are happy to advise on these types of purchases.)
What you’ll spend
If you follow the basic rules above, and stick with high-quality brand names, it’s possible to assemble a really nice system for $500 or less. For $500 to-$1,000, “you can put together a really really nice system,” says Groves, perhaps incorporating a set of audiophile speakers (like the Magnepan brand). For upwards of $1,000, you can move into “amazing” territory, he says, though the casual listener probably doesn’t need this level of investment.
“Your system gets better as you become a better listener,” he says. “Some people are going to put [music] on and make dinner, so you don’t need the world’s best stereo to do that. The more you’re going to sit and just actively listen to the space around the notes…the more you listen, the more [you’ll] train your ears, your palate. I suppose it’s a little like wine: There’s a point where there’s a super taster, and a super listener. And even then I have my doubts as to, ‘Are your ears really that good?’”
Particularly where vinyl is concerned, there are some pieces of equipment to avoid, because crappy gear will ruin your records. Typically, the heavier the turntable, the better the quality, says Groves. Steer clear of anything with a platter or tonearm made of plastic, and note that any good tonearm will have a counterweight. Console stereos—the ones built into credenzas, for instance—may have a cool vintage look, but their turntables aren’t usually of very good quality.
Groves says that the most important component of a turntable is the needle, or cartridge. A worn or damaged needle will distort the audio and mess up a record’s grooves. So, if you buy a good vintage turntable, you may want to invest in a new needle.
He also advises those buying a vinyl system to get a carbon-fiber record brush. Boundless Audio makes a good one; Groves bought his years ago at Crutchfield. “The electrostatic fiber sucks the dust right out [of the grooves],” he says.
And he’s emphatic about his final piece of advice: “The most expensive part of your stereo system is your record collection. Take care of your records!”
Whether you’re new to vinyl or getting back into it after selling (or tossing) your collection when CDs were king, Gwen Berthy
of Charlottesville’s Melody Supreme recommends a few recent releases to kickstart, or reinvigorate, your collection.
Stereolab, Sound-Dust
The 2019 reissue of the seventh album from these English-French avant-poppers is not only remastered from the original half-inch tapes, it’s also been expanded to include demo
versions of the album tracks.
Alice Clark, Alice Clark
Clark is a legend among funk and soul fanatics, and her 1972 self-titled record was officially reissued for the first time in 2019.
Silver Jews, American Water
Silver Jews frontman David Berman, who died last year, lived
in Charlottesville for a time (and attended UVA, where he met bandmates Stephen Malkmus and Bob Nastanovich), and DJed on local station WTJU. In 2018, his label reissued this indie rock classic with half-speed mastering from Abbey Road studios.
Echo and the Bunnymen, John Peel Sessions 1979-1983
Liverpool’s post-punk heroes compile all of the sessions they recorded with legendary English DJ/music journalist/radio producer John Peel.
Cate LeBon, Reward
The latest from a wonderfully quirky, risk-taking folk/baroque pop Welsh musician and songwriter.
Patrice Rushen, Remind Me
The definitive three-LP compilation of this jazz pianist and R&B singer’s music, remastered from the original tapes.
Angel Olsen, All Mirrors
Lush alternative pop from a contemporary master of the genre.
Helen (left) and Garnette (right), photographed by Eze Amos for the Cville Porch Portraits project.
Two weeks ago, Eze Amos was “bored as hell.”
Usually the photographer is running around Charlottesville at all hours, snapping candid shots of everyday life in the city—buskers, beer drinkers, sidewalk chalkers, protesters—shooting weddings, or completing assignments for this newspaper.
But with everyone staying home for social distancing, Amos and many other photographers have lost their paid gigs and the chance to work on their passion projects.
While scrolling through his phone, Amos read an article about Cara Soulia, a Needham, Massachusetts, family photographer who, in this time of quarantine, began taking pictures of families in front of their homes for a series she calls #TheFrontStepsProject.
Soulia’s work energized Amos—he couldn’t sleep that night. He just had to do this in Charlottesville, and he knew he couldn’t do it alone.
Since then, Amos and four other photographers—Tom Daly, Kristen Finn, John Robinson, and Sarah Cramer Shields—have photographed more than 200 families and individuals outside their Charlottesville-area homes for Cville Porch Portraits (@cvilleporchraits on Instagram).
(Soulia’s work also inspired local photographer Robert Radifera, who launched a similar project to benefit the Charlottesville Community Foundation.)
Amos isn’t bored anymore, and he’s not likely to be any time soon: About two dozen requests come in every day.
There’s something uniquely lovely and intimate about making images of people outside their homes. “In photography, we often go to the pretty places, not always to the true places, or the personal spaces,” says Robinson. “Places bring something out of you, or are a reflection of what you bring in.”
Taken separately, these images say a lot about who the subjects are as individuals. Someone chose to be photographed in her cozy bathrobe and panda bear slippers. A family posed in matching, carefully handmade Easter outfits. In one photo, kids have strewn their toys about the porch; in another, someone has arranged her flower pots just so. There are grandparents using their photo to say hello to their grandchildren.
Taken together, these images say a lot about who we are as a community.
Ranger, photographed by Tom Daly
It’s as much an “act of solidarity” as it is a fundraiser, says Finn, an attempt “to create some visual representation of ‘we’re all in this together.’”
The project keeps these five photographers employed, and they’re splitting the profits 50-50 with the Charlottesville Emergency Relief Fund for Artists, established last month by The Bridge Progressive Arts Initiative and the New City Arts Initiative, with some help from The FUNd at CACF. Already, the photographers have donated $5,000 to the relief fund and are on track to make another donation of the same size soon.
Folks can sign up for a portrait via cvilleporchportraits@gmail.com and pay what and if they can, on a sliding scale from $0 to $250. When the photographers arrive on site, they take care to maintain at least 10 feet of distance between themselves and their subjects, per CDC guidelines. “That’s what a telephoto lens is for,” says Finn with a laugh.
Finn has experienced a range of emotions during the shoots, from tearing up while talking with a woman who was recently laid off, to feeling a bit starstruck when local civil rights legend Eugene Williams contacted her for a portrait.
Whether photographing an old friend or a new acquaintance, the photographers are learning more about themselves. Robinson usually gets up close with his subjects, so the physical separation is new. For Amos, even this distance feels close—as a street photographer, he doesn’t often interact with his subjects all.
Emily, shown here with her family, is a former RN collecting PPE for the local healthcare community. Photograph by Kristen Finn
As the photographers bond with the photographed, they share these moments with the rest of the community via social media, hoping to foster a sense of connection—and some strength and comfort—despite our distance.
“I think everything that Charlottesville has been through has us hungry for resilience, and we’ve trained and built for reciprocity and resilience,” says Robinson, noting that community leaders have worked hard to build that in the wake of summer 2017. “We all learned that we need to be there for each other, and we have to…remember to be strong, but also be tender.”
With that in mind, Amos aims “to show what the community looks like,” to show the racial and ethnic and economic diversity of the Charlottesville area that is often overlooked or erased in the images media, businesses, tourism groups, and others choose to project. Sure, the fundraising matters, he says, but inclusion matters more. “We want everyone to feel like they are part of this, that they can be represented” in this project, in this place, in this moment in time. “This is for everyone.”
Correction: An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated the name of The FUNd at CACF, which helped provide seed money for the Charlottesville Emergency Relief Fund for Artists. We regret the error. Updated April 8, 2:37pm.
Lee O’Neill of Radical Roots Community Farm is one of many local farmers who has had to get creative with her business and distribution plans this year. Photo by John Robinson
At this point in the season, farmers have planted potatoes and strawberries. They’ve sown radishes, carrots, beets, and kohlrabi. They’ve transplanted broccoli and onions from interior pots to outdoor beds, and any day now, they’ll put in the warmer-weather crops like corn and peppers.
But as the COVID-19 pandemic spreads throughout Virginia, Governor Ralph Northam’s stay-at-home order has shut down farmers’ markets and restaurants, and local farmers have had to rethink how to get food to their customers…and how to maintain their income to ensure there’s a harvest next year.
“At this time of year, we have a lot invested in the ground and not a lot of cash on hand,” says Jim Marzluff of Sweet Greens Farm in Scottsville. “Those first few markets are really important to us.”
More than half of Sweet Greens’ revenue comes from local farmers’ markets. “It’s such a good way to sell produce in this area,” says Marzluff.
That number’s even higher—95 percent—for Whisper Hill Farm, also in Scottsville. “We’re going to have tons of produce,” says farmer Holly Hammond.
Hammond and Marzluff plan to put what they’d normally sell at the market into community supported agriculture shares. Both farms had moved away from the CSA model in recent years, but right now, it seems like the best option to feed customers and financially sustain the farms.
Though they understand the dire importance of practicing social distancing, farmers, who already adhere to very strict food safety standards, are frustrated by the new rules. Lee O’Neill of Radical Roots Farm says that markets could likely observe even stricter measures than grocery stores—limiting how many people are in the space at once, allowing only farmers to touch the goods—and so she wonders why the markets are not also considered essential.
To help fill the gap, Local Food Hub is offering a drive-up, no-contact micro-market. Customers can go to the organization’s website to order locally produced fruits and veggies, milk, eggs, cheese, meats, and more. At the pickup location, LFH employees and farmers place the bagged order in the customer’s trunk.
And starting Saturday, April 11, the City Market will switch to a “City Market To-Go” model, operating from 8am to noon on Saturdays until further notice. Customers can sign up for an account, place an order online, and choose a 30-minute pickup window. During that time, they’ll be able to pick up their bag from Pen Park.
Farmers say there’s also been increased interest in CSA programs from customers over the past two weeks, particularly from those who are anxious that there might eventually be a food shortage.
Bellair Farm, located just outside of Charlottesville, is perhaps unique in that its business model is based almost entirely around a CSA program, which farm manager Michelle McKenzie says could provide enough produce for 700 families for its 22-week duration. (A half share, enough for the average-size family, costs $390 for the season, about $17 per week.) While Bellair won’t have to adapt its business much, it will stop its market-style CSA pickup and switch to pre-packaged bags that customers can retrieve quickly.
Radical Roots will also offer a few CSA shares this year to make up for its lost market business, and it’s participating in Local Food Hub’s micro-market, but O’Neill expects her farm’s “saving grace” will be its wholesale business with area groceries like Feast!, Integral Yoga, and Whole Foods. There’s no guarantee, though, that customers on tight pandemic budgets will opt for the slightly more expensive, locally grown organic tomato, rather than the cheaper, corporate farm-grown one. “Usually we can’t produce enough” for the stores, says O’Neill, but she imagines this year could be different.
Since fall 2019, when this photo was taken, the Urban Agriculture Collective of Charlottesville, which grows and distributes produce to public and subsidized housing communities, has lost more than 80 percent of its planting-bed space. Photo by Zack Wajsgras
While most area farms work out how to distribute their bounties, one farm located in the heart of Charlottesville worries it won’t have enough food for its consumers’ needs.
The Urban Agriculture Collective of Charlottesville offers city residents the opportunity to collaboratively grow and harvest organic produce that is then distributed at no cost to public and subsidized housing communities, “people who might not otherwise have access to fresh produce,” says Richard Morris, farm and foodroots program director at UACC.
During the 2019 season, UACC’s three gardens, located at the Friendship Court, South First Street, and Sixth Street housing developments, had a combined 25,000 square feet of vegetable-bed space. But with the Friendship Court and South First Street spots slated for redevelopment, UACC was only able to plant at Sixth Street—4,400 square feet of bed space—for the 2020 season.
“We’re down, but not out,” says Morris. With less than one-fifth of its previous planting area to work with, he says they’ve employed some intensive growing techniques, such as vertical planting.
As unemployment rates soar, Morris expects that those members of our community who are already food insecure (about 17 percent of the city’s population) will have greater demand for produce…and that more of our neighbors will become food insecure in the coming months.
He hopes that other, larger farms and distributors with excess produce might donate it to the UACC’s new Harvest a Bushel for the Community program.
Overall, farmers say they want this moment to help the community understand the reliability, and thus the importance, of local food. It’s part of their mission, after all, to feed their neighbors.
“For me, having this very clear, outlined mission of what my role is in this crisis has brought me more peace than anything else in this time,” says McKenzie. “Knowing that I’ve got a job to do, and my job is to grow food, safely. That’s what I keep returning to.”
Dining decline
Farms that supply to area restaurants, and not just individual customers, face enormous challenges, too. As restaurants have either closed completely or switched to carry-out and delivery models, they’re not cooking as much, which means placing fewer, if any, orders with small farms.
Around half of Free Union Grass Farm’s business comes from local restaurants. This year, farmer Joel Slezak planned to raise 2,500 ducks and sell 90 percent of them to local restaurants. But a few weeks ago, orders from restaurants “disappeared overnight,” and Slezak canceled his duckling order. Instead, he’ll raise chickens and laying hens, whose meat and eggs, respectively, are easier to sell to home cooks via the farm’s website. Slezak says he’s had increased interest from individual customers, and despite the loss of his restaurant clientele, business is booming. He does worry that at some point, individual customers will run out of money and not be able to afford local food prices, which tend to be higher than those at grocery stores.
Ara Avagyan of Double H Farm has some worries, too. From December through May, his farm relies entirely on restaurants for its income. “That’s just enough” for the Avagyan family to pay the bills and keep the lights on. He continues providing to restaurants throughout the spring, summer, and fall, but he relies on farmers market sales of leafy greens, eggs, pork, and more, for the money to feed his livestock: dozens of cows, hundreds of pigs and chickens. Double H has pivoted to direct-to-customer sales through its website, and is selling to small groceries like Integral Yoga, but Avagyan says only time will tell if that model will be successful.
This article was updated Wednesday, April 8 to include information about the City Market To-Go, announced April 7.
Rainbow drawings by brothers Henry, age 5, and Sam, age 3, are part of the Art Apart initiative. Henry says that rainbows make him feel “happy!," and he wanted to share his drawing “to make people happy.” Sam thinks that rainbows are “pretty,” so he also contributed a rainbow “for friends to see.” Staff photo
Art in all its forms accomplishes many things. It can entertain. It can teach us something new about ourselves, or others. It can keep us company, keep us busy, keep us calm. It can inspire. It can comfort. At its core, art is about shared humanity.
With that in mind, The Bridge Progressive Arts Initiative and Charlottesville Safe Routes to School have partnered on Art Apart: A City Wide Gallery, which is meant to keep us connected creatively as we separate physically during the threat of the COVID-19 virus.
The idea: Make or find a piece of artwork. Display it in a front window, on a door, or on a porch, so that it can be seen from the sidewalk or street.
The goal: To brighten the day of those passing by. “To give or find ways to stay connected and inspired, and bring a little bit of beauty into the world. To put it out there in spite of all this fear and uncertainty,” says Alan Goffinski, director of The Bridge PAI.
A few different things inspired Art Apart.
With schools closed until August, Kyle Rodland, Safe Routes to School coordinator for the City of Charlottesville, and his colleagues sought to set up some family-oriented activities that could continue the pedestrian safety skills kids typically learn in school—safely crossing the street at a four-way stop, building bike-riding confidence—at home. “Of course, we want people to be safe in the middle of a pandemic,” says Rodland, but people are going to go out. They’re going to take walks, drive or bike to the store.
Another “Art Apart” contribution. Staff photo
“If we can find something that has artistic value, and physical value, as far as getting some exercise and getting out and moving—it’s kind of a wholesome thing,” says Rodland, who called Goffinski to brainstorm.
Goffinski was moved by a recent post in the Charlottesville Mutual Aid Infrastructure Facebook group: A mother posted a picture of her young son sitting by the window overlooking the parking
lot of their apartment building. She explained that all day, the boy called a friendly “hello!” to folks (all adults) in the parking lot, looking for some sort of human connection as he sat cooped up in the house. Not a single person acknowledged him.
“We can do better than this,” Goffinski thought. He hopes Art Apart might help.
“It doesn’t necessarily have to be a drawing or a painting or an artwork that you’ve made yourself” to foster that connection, says Goffinski. “It can be one that someone else made that you love, that you want to stick in the window for everyone else to see.
Participants can submit their art to The Bridge’s map of places where artworks can be seen around town.
“All of these arts organizations in town are doing a Hail Mary, trying to figure out how [we] can be helpful, and be impactful,” Goffinski says. “It’s interesting to see people like Kyle, and all these other arts organizations in town not throwing in the towel, but really fighting to make sure that they’re continuing to do good things.”
