Author: spencer-peterson

Categories
Arts

The DNA of Blues

Martin Scorsese once said that the Malian guitarist Ali Farka Touré’s music constituted “the DNA of blues.” That puts Vieux Farka Touré next in line, not only as Ali’s son, but as the heir to a musical tradition that reintroduced the American blues to its West African origins. 

Vieux Farka Touré’s latest album,
The Secret, features the songwriter’s
final collaboration with his father,
the Malian blues god Ali Farka Touré.
Photo by Zeb Goodell.

The elder Touré was legendary for merging the melody of Malian folk with the rambling guitar phrasing of blues greats like John Lee Hooker and Lightnin’ Hopkins. When Vieux began experimenting with this sound—after secretly taking up the guitar when his father discouraged him from it—it gained an urgent, harder edge, and truly crystalized into what is now called “Desert Blues.” 

Since his debut release in 2007, Touré’s albums have risen to the top of the World Music charts, and his growing recognition earned him a spot at the Opening Celebration of the 2010 FIFA World Cup. With The Secret, released in May, Vieux digs deeper into his own roots while moving forward. Perhaps it is fitting that the album contains Vieux’s final collaboration with his late father, on which the younger man’s expanded, self-consciously electric playing riffs poignantly with the elder’s. (The record also includes Derek Trucks, John Scofield, and a vocal duet with Dave Matthews.) 

We caught up with Vieux Farka Touré via e-mail before his Wednesday, August 31, gig at the Jefferson. Catch him there with Corey Harris—the local bluesman whose 2003 album Mississippi to Mali included collaborations with Ali—before the next wave in blues innovation passes you by.

Your father, guitar legend Ali Farka Touré, was reluctant to have you fol-lowing in his footsteps. Why do you think he encouraged you to join the mil-itary rather than become a musician?

My father did not like the music business and the immoral, dishonest things that happen in it. He wanted to protect me from certain types of people, and I think he also wanted me to have a more stable life and income. It is true that dishonest people exist in the music industry, and it is a very difficult life. But I surround myself with people that I trust and I am always involved in all the aspects of my career. I am careful.

In 2005, Eric Herman got permission from your teachers and other community elders to get your first album produced in Brooklyn, but you still continued to do most of your recording in Mali. Is recording music a different experience there?

Yes, there is a difference between recording in Mali and in the U.S. I prefer to record in Mali, where my soul feels at peace and where we have more time to take everything in. They are both great, but very different experiences. For The Secret, the majority of the recording needed to be done in Mali.

Some would say that your innovation comes from your fresh perspective on blues and rock. In your mind, are the genres very different?

No. To me, rock music is just a little more upbeat, but in terms of the construction of the music I see them as basically the same thing.

Ever since your debut album was remixed for the album UFOs Over Bamako, you’ve been a big supporter of remixes of your work. Do you have a favorite remixed version of one of your songs?

I really love the Yossi Fine “Ma Hine Cocore” remix and the Nickodemus “Sangaré” remix. I think those must be my favorites.

You were initially trained as a percussionist. Does that come out in your guitar playing?

Yes, definitely. My style of playing guitar is very percussive. It is a direct evolution of my drumming.

If you could collaborate with anyone you haven’t worked with yet, who would it be?

That is a tough question. There are so many! I love Phil Collins. I love Jay-Z. One of those two, I guess.

Do you like being on the road?

I would not say that I enjoy always being on the road, but I am quite comfortable with it. It is now very routine for me, and normal to always be waking up in a new place. I do love to meet people from everywhere. It is this cultural learning that keeps me sane and happy on the road.

Have you felt inspired by any recent records?

I love Watch the Throne, the new collaboration between Kanye West and Jay-Z. Jay-Z is the master of rap. I would like to invite him to play in Bamako. I’ll arrange everything —he just needs to say, “O.K., I’ll do it,” and I’ll take care of the rest. Tell him that.

Vieux Farka Touré
with Corey Harris and the
Rasta Blues Experience
Wednesday, August 31
The Jefferson Theater
(800) 594-TIXX
Categories
News

Setting the sails

When Scottsville resident Barry Long put the finishing touches on two-and-a-half years of work, he was only half-sure it would fit through the door. In his spare time, Long had built two flat-bottomed sailboats in his basement, and now he was prepared to alter the doorframe to get them out.

Barry Long documented his boatmaking experiences on his website, eyeinhand.com. His two Melonseed skiffs took more than two years to build by hand.

“I have twin daughters, so I also have twin boats,” said Long as he admired the painted red cedar hull of the Æon. The varnished deck of its counterpart, the Cæsura, practically shimmered under the overhead lamp. Long also beamed. 

“I wanted to be able to take the whole family out, but I knew that whatever I built would need to be small enough to leave the basement.”

Which they were, by an inch or two. On Sunday, August 21, Long and the guests of his boat birthing party hauled the watercraft out, christened them with single malt whiskey and baptized them with a splash of water from the James River. As Long would write on his blog, “Whiskey seemed more appropriate for duck hunting boats than champagne.”

The first Melonseed Skiffs were built in the late 19th century, and named for the kernel-like combination of their tapered bows and blunt sterns. As Long explained, “They’re designed to be taken out with only a dog and a shotgun, and driven by one small sail.” In the winter, coastal farmers from Virginia to New Jersey spent mornings hunting duck and then sailing to nearby cities to sell their hauls, often sleeping curled up in the hull on overnight trips.

Long is more poet than hunter. It’s easier to imagine the serene, soft-spoken Virginia native hoisting a Nikon than a shotgun, even if you aren’t familiar with his award-winning work as a photographer. And though he won’t hunt in them, Long will honor the history of the Melonseed Skiff when he takes his boats to Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge in the winter to photograph the duck migrations.

Until then, Long’s camera will stay trained on the boats themselves, as he attaches the masts and prepares for his first outing. The “marginalia” blog on his website, eyeinhand.com, has featured photos from his skiffs throughout all stages of their construction. Over the years, Long has watched his website trend in Siberia, Japan, Australia and even landlocked Montana, as amateur and professional admirers alike started linking to his posts. On YouTube, a video by Long entitled “Steam Bending Wood in the Microwave” has over 32,000 hits.

“The first time I tried that,” said Long, “I ended up with charcoal in about two minutes.” Long’s unorthodox wood-bending method is only good for molding small pieces, like the white ash struts in the hull of the Æon, but it often saved him the trouble of preparing large buckets of very hot water for the process.

“Wood is an organic material,” said Long. “I had to learn that over and over again. It’s moving all the time, a lot more than we realize.” He traces this lesson back to 2008, when Hurricane Hanna left his basement flooded. Long found much of his handiwork severely warped and had to spend days steaming it, bending it back to shape and properly sealing it.

Of course, it’s always hard to look at a final product and comprehend years of trial and error. When Long was getting started on the Melonseeds—after building a practice skiff out of plywood over three weekends—a friend advised him to constantly change the order in which he worked on the twin boats, to avoid hobbling one with the mistakes of first tries. Long also benefited from the help of his wife and daughters, who varnished the decks and put up with his long hours in the workshop. 

He also owes a nod to Franklin D. Roosevelt. In the late 1930s, the Works Progress Administration employed out-of-work shipbuilders by sending them to measure and diagram old American boats. To make his skiffs, Long worked from the mid-century measurements of a boat built in 1888, copies of which he got from the Smithsonian for $15 per page.

To commemorate the basis for his design, Long embedded coins from 1888 under the masts of the Cæsura and the Æon, like hidden hood ornaments. The tradition dates back to the ancient Greeks, who hoped to provide their sailors with toll for the ferry across the river Styx, in case they were lost at sea. (Little known fact: The U.S. Navy still embeds coins in its ships.)

Long also rooted the names of his boats in ancient tradition. “Caesura” and “aeon” —the implicit pause for breath in the middle of a line of verse and an alternate spelling of “eon”—are both Latinate words, and once shared the “æ” ligature that English-speakers now spell out as two separate letters. In the Old English Latin alphabet, this ligature was called “æsc,” which meant “ash tree.” Long used ash wood for the trim and tillers of his Melonseeds.

“The pauses you take in life—hobbies, diversions—they have quite an effect on you,” said Long. “Æon is named for an unimaginably long length of time, and Cæsura for the time of a single breath.”

Categories
Arts

The king of dusty corners

When Stephen Steinbrink thinks of Charlottesville, he thinks of a trip to a swimming hole in torrential downpour, and how “drunk” locals are on the good shows that come to town. After a string of tour dates was canceled in 2009, the Arizona songwriter lingered here for a few days and played in some of our scene’s lesser-known corners. During his stay, Steinbrink gained a following—as he has in places across the country—which he’s parlayed into a bunch of increasingly successful repeat visits. This week, Steinbrink brings his understated songwriting and cherubic, Neil-Youngish vocals back to town for a show at another unlikely venue, Alhamraa, the Moroccan restaurant in the Ix Building.

 

The Arizona pop songwriter Stephen Steinbrink is always on the road, and, it seems, almost always on his way to or from Charlottesville. He plays Alhamraa on August 30. Photo by Nick Coultas.

 

People know you as the guy who never stops touring. Where are
you now?

On a street in Seattle. I’m on this two-month tour right now and I’m playing about a quarter of the shows. I’m touring with these bands called Pregnant and Alak, but I mainly came along to help out because they have a 1-year-old daughter. I’m mostly just hanging out and helping with the baby. I get back to Phoenix on September 6, and then my band and I are going on a big, month-long West Coast tour, because our new record is coming out in a few weeks—September 19, I think. It’s called Desert Wasn’t Welcome.

You’re known best for small, DIY recordings. What was the studio experience like for Desert Wasn’t Welcome?

My band and I recorded this one at Dub Narcotic Studio in Olympia, Washington, on a 2" 16-track tape machine with lots of fancy microphones and amps and compressors. They use lots of weird vintage gear there, so it still felt pretty DIY, even though the equipment was much fancier than what I’m used to. Dub Narcotic is a really neat place because it’s in an old synagogue. It has a very different feel than most studios. It still has the old windows and carpeting, almost like the studio accommodating the space and not the other way around.

That sounds like worlds away from recording on a MacBook.

Yes, the self-titled record was done on a Macbook. It was super weird. I only recorded it that way out of necessity; I had been recording on an analog eight-track, but it broke. So I had all these songs, but I didn’t have any money to buy a new eight-track or repair it, so I just started recording on a Macbook with the onboard mic. It took like three months to record it and nine months to make it not sound like shit. By the second record I was recording on a digital eight-track.

It’s Not Just Kissing was recorded in my parents’ dining room. I would stay up really late when I was staying with them in-between tours and just work on this music. I would have to be really quiet, and so I also had to be kind of creative about how I could make things sound loud even though they weren’t. 

Your songs “I Don’t Ever Want to Get Stabbed” and “The Cops” remind me of staying indoors as a kid and watching the TV show “Cops.” Are you paranoid about violent crime?

I don’t like “Cops.” That show just kind of depresses me, and I think it’s pretty messed up. Those two songs are mainly just about living in a sort of depressed city like Phoenix or Tucson. There’s a lot of weird, gross crime in Arizona, which is strange, because people don’t often think of it as a crime-ridden place. Phoenix is a huge city, I think the fifth-largest in the U.S., but so much of it is strip malls and suburban development. Those songs are about seeing weird, gross crime happen in quaint neighborhoods.

Your first record got a nod from Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore, which reviewers still mention when your name comes up. Did that freak you out?

People have been super nice to me with reviews. That Thurston Moore review is funny though, because he used to have this column where he would review hundreds of records at a time, so getting mentioned wasn’t that big a deal when you put it in perspective. It’s funny what people hold on to about you—it’s often things that aren’t actually that important.

Lumber company with local ties lays off hundreds

Coastal Lumber Company recently announced that it was going out of business, laying off more than 350 employees in four states.

In an e-mail received by C-VILLE, Coastal Lumber’s Charlottesville-based management team cited the “prolonged downturn” in the economy, and said that on August 11, the company’s bank ordered the termination of all Coastal employees.

In the statement, Coastal said that in late July, Branch Banking & Trust (BB&T) decided that it would “no longer support Coastal’s strategic reorganization.” After BB&T asked Coastal owners to “make concessions they were not willing to make,” the bank directed them to obtain alternative funding.

The e-mail also stated that the company is looking for other financing with hope to “resume doing business as soon as possible.” Coastal Lumber declined to comment for this story.

According to Businessweek, Coastal’s layoffs were the heaviest in West Virginia, where the company had nearly 200 employees. It also employed 68 workers in Pennsylvania, 67 in North Carolina, six executives in Virginia and 30 others companywide.

A statement from BB&T to C-VILLE reads as follows:

“At BB&T we work with our clients as best we can for as long as we can when clients have financial difficulties. Any type of foreclosure proceedings are our very last option. It is in BB&T’s interest to see its clients succeed. Unfortunately, that is not always possible. In the course of working with them, we do not make decisions for our clients regarding employment or operations.”

Revamping Woody: Author Kaufman wants to renovate Guthrie’s legacy

This afternoon at New Dominion Bookshop,  the professor and author Will Kaufman proved that one of America’s favorite sons was more of a black sheep than a golden boy. Kaufman was in town to promote his latest book, Woody Guthrie, American Radical, but this wasn’t your normal reading.

Kaufman presented what he calls an “interactive documentary” on the development of Woody Guthrie’s political awareness, a talk and slideshow peppered with live performances of Guthrie tunes. Here he is doing “Vigilante Man,” a famous Guthrie tune about the thugs that would break up the pro-labor demonstrations in California during the Dust Bowl.

For the book, Kaufman charted Guthrie’s life from disaffected Okie to famed folk singer, grounding his best known work in the social and political landscape of the ’30s and ’40s. Recently, we sat down with this-card carrying member of the Industrial Workers of the World for a remedial Guthrie lesson, and learned the verses to “This Land Is Your Land” that they didn’t teach us in school.

You’ve been bringing Woody’s music and life story to audiences in Europe for years now. What brought you to Guthrie?

I never really thought politically about Woody Guthrie until long after I moved to England. I walked into a pub sometime in the 1990s, and they were playing this Woody Guthrie song “Vigilante Man,” a slide guitar version, which was unbelievable. Woody didn’t’ write like a Mississippi Delta musician, but what Ry Cooder did on this cover was take a song for a poor white Dust Bowl constituency and apply it to the Delta, and it got me thinking about how politically adept and malleable Guthrie songs are.

But I didn’t start playing him until around 2006. You have to picture how difficult it is to be an American abroad during the reign of George W. Bush, when he and his other despicable, rich, oil-hungry friends are speaking for America. I was so sickened and embarrassed by them that I was casting about desperately for an alternative American voice. I began to think that Woody Guthrie sounded pretty good around then.

Your presentation of Guthrie’s life and music is doubling as a book tour for Woody Guthrie, American Radical, the first political biography of Guthrie. Does our image of him need revising?

Nowadays, he has the public image of a hokie rube, a sort of cracker-barrel philosopher, when in reality he was much more politically sophisticated than we’re aware of. He was a small-c communist—there’s no evidence that he ever signed a membership card—but he was certainly committed to establishing a socialist economy in the United States.

In 2009, when Pete Seeger and Bruce Springsteen sang “This Land Is Your Land” at Barack Obama’s inaugural concert, they sang the full version, and the next day the newspapers were saying, “did you know what this song is really about?” There are actually three killer anti-capitalist verses in that song.

During the Great Depression, Woody’s anger at the treatment of workers and the squalor of immigrant life culminated in the writing of “This Land Is Your Land,” which is a protest anthem, not the patriotic tub-thumper that you and I sang in school. One of Woody’s friends, a radical editor named Irwin Silber, once said that they took a revolutionary and turned him into a conservationist. Which is exactly what happened. I’m trying to reverse that.

It seems like British audiences often get into our protest musicians before we’re ready to hear what they have to say.

It often goes that way. The problem in Woody’s case is that his radical propensities have been airbrushed out. He gets construed as celebratory and patriotic, because people aren’t ready to engage with the more radical, left-wing dimension of one of their favorite sons. I think that kind of paranoia is the legacy of McCarthyism in American culture. In our popular consciousness, Woody Guthrie couldn’t have had ties to American communism, because we pretend that there’s never been such a thing. Europeans don’t get paranoid about that.

In your presentations, you play Guthrie songs pretty much as they were. What do you think about Mermaid Avenue, where Billy Bragg and Wilco wrote music for Guthrie’s unfinished songs, and other modern interpretations?

I like the Mermaid Avenue albums. I think Billy Bragg was a great choice, but I wasn’t so sure about Wilco, because they never struck me as particularly politically committed. But Nora Guthrie has done a great job of dragging [Guthrie] out of the Dust Bowl, bringing contemporary musicians into his archives. There are about 3000 songs in there just waiting to be put to music. Woody didn’t really write music. He just used the folk song as a template for the words he wrote down.

A lot gets made about Guthrie symbolically passing the mantle on to a young Dylan. Is his cultural legacy still around today?

Yes, Dylan did visit Woody and play Woody’s songs for him, but the connection is mostly mythology. The missing link there is Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, who was Woody’s protege, and helped teach Dylan what he knew.

It would be right to call Woody a father of the protest song. He wasn’t the first to do it, but he really brought it to the fore. If you wanted to talk about Woody’s legacy, I could point you to Tom Morello or Ani DiFranco, but he’s a dinosaur, and I guess she’s on the way to becoming one.

David Rovics, out of Portland, Oregon, is one of the younger people channeling Woody’s spirit. They’re out there, but not on the major labels. They’re releasing tunes on the internet. They’re out in the picket lines.

Categories
Arts

Hyperactive on the floodplain

For more than a decade, guitarist and songwriter Ben Chasny has held the unofficial title of Busiest Guy in Indie Rock. In addition to playing with the MC5-inspired psychedelic act Comets of Fire, Rangda and a number of other groups, Chasny is the architect behind Six Organs of Admittance, which plays Wednesday, August 17 at the Southern.

The guitarist and songwriter Ben Chasny is at the center of Six Organs of Admittance, a drone-driven meditative folk act, which performs Wednesday at the Southern.

Even as some of the glossiest stars of the “freak folk” movement—remember that phrase?—rose and faded, Six Organs’ output remained steady throughout the aughts. On recent records like 2006’s The Sun Awakens and 2007’s Shelter from the Ash, Chasny combined meditative fingerstyle guitar with free jazz percussion and Western soundscapes reminiscent of Ennio Morricone. In March, the Chicago label Drag City released Asleep On The Floodplain, an album full of tight, hymnic ruminations on acoustic guitar set off by spacious electronic overtones—plus one 12-minute instrumental build on dulcimer and harmonium.

As with past releases, at the heart of Asleep is an ethos that prizes textured riffs over perfect execution—though as a guitarist he’s capable of that, too.

You have the discography of a busy man. Do you have any projects on the horizon?

Me and Elisa Ambrogio have a band called 200 Years, and our record is finally coming out in the fall. We just O.K.ed all the artwork and everything.

Is it a relief to share a project after being at the center of one?

Yeah. Elisa writes all the lyrics and does all the singing, so I really don’t have to worry about as much—just guitar. She’s keeping me company on this current tour, which is just me out there, solo acoustic. Right now we’re in Pennsylvania, driving to Buffalo.

In addition to Asleep on the Floodplain, this summer you released Maria Kapel, a collection of live, solo acoustic recordings of songs based on chapels you visited in Holland. Was your songwriting process different for that record?

I had an artist residency in Holland, so I traveled out there and they had a guy show me around for two weeks, and we went to these little chapels that are dedicated to the Virgin Mary. They’re all individual, and very unique. I just wrote music for them when I left and I came back a few months later and performed it as part of the Incubate festival, and the album is a recording of that performance. I wanted all the songs to have a different tonality that matched individual chapels, so each song had its own tuning, whereas I usually only work in one or two.

What was it like to spend time on a small release after so many larger ones?

Really good, actually. I’ve wanted to get my record label Pavilion going again. All the early Six Organs stuff was released on Pavilion, and has since been reissued on Holy Mountain or Drag City. But the early stuff I really wanted to do myself, and recently I had wanted to get the label going again, so Maria Kapel was sort of a kick in the ass to get it going again. The copies that I have—and I’ll be bringing them to Charlottesville—they’re limited and they’re all hand painted like the old Pavilion records.

Your music can be challenging on the first listen. Did any of your favorite albums take years to click for you?

The first one that comes to mind is John Martyn’s Solid Air. It took me a very long time to really get the whole record. For a while I only liked the acoustic songs, and just thought that the electric ones were crazy.

What happens when experimental musicians grow to embrace more traditional forms, like folk? Does getting older mean you have to get austere and palatable?

I think that the media really pushes people to go more contemporary. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, like, “The first stuff was really crazy, but they’re really getting their act together with that songwriting.” You come across fewer reviews that say the opposite: “This one’s way more out there, so it’s a lot better.” Maybe a band like Oneida, but for the most part, that’s the myth that gets thrown out there—growing up and cleaning up. Artists have a lot to do with it too, but they do get rewarded for it. Doesn’t happen with everyone, though.

You hear a lot of bands talk about having made “the record we’ve always wanted to make.” Ever felt that way?

Well, yeah, but there’s, like, a hundred records I want to make. So each time it’s just like, scratch that one off, but there’s still a lot more. If anyone ever makes their ideal record then they’re done.

Locally-honed, bedroom-grown pop from James McNew’s Dump

Dump

“Hope, Joe,” from I Can Hear Music (1995)

Before he played bass in Yo La Tengo, James McNew was a DJ at WTJU, published the music zine And Suddenly, and worked as an attendant at the Corner Parking Lot—which he has a few memorable lines about in The Parking Lot Movie.

Since 1993, Dump has been the outlet for McNew’s four-track home recordings, the most recent batch of which was 2003’s A Grown-Ass Man. “Hope, Joe” is a pretty pick from the whole McNew oeuvre, but it has the kind of curious build in intensity that you get on the best of his tracks. And that droning, utterly 1995 vocal melody? Delicious.

A few other McNew facts: In 2001, he released an album of Prince covers called That Skinny Motherfucker with the High Voice?, and his song "International Airport," was named Rob Sheffield’s "favorite song of all time" in Love Is A Mixtape. If you can rustle up a copy, give the whole of I Can Hear Music a listen before Saturday, August 13. Dump is playing a hometown show at the Tea Bazaar then, which should be a real treat.

What’s another song every Charlottesville music fan should know?

—

In 2009, C-VILLE’s Brendan Fitzgerald penned a feature called “Forty-five songs that every Charlottesville music fan should know,” which drew out comments from just about every music fan in town, most to the tune of “what, no Jamie Dyer?” Feedback contributor Spencer Peterson continues the conversation by adding to that list, one track at a time.

VA Wounded Warriors representative speaks to ACPD

On July 28, Ben Shaw, a peer specialist for the Virginia Wounded Warrior Program, led the officers of the Albemarle County Police Department through training on the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder and traumatic brain injuries in veterans readjusting to civilian life.

“It is my hope that officers are better equipped to spot signs that a veteran may be struggling,” said Shaw. “Regardless of if it’s a coworker, a neighbor, or somebody they encounter while on duty. As not only servants in a community but also as residents, police officers are a great asset in terms of their knowledge and reach.”

Shaw, who served two tours in Iraq as an infantry Marine and a third as a foreign weapons instructor, spoke candidly about his own transition from executing combat missions in the Sunni Triangle to waiting in line at Starbucks.

According to Shaw, the difficulties of readjusting to civilian life can be understood in terms of encoded responses to stress as well as crises of personal identity, both of which push many veterans toward substance abuse, spousal difficulties and depression.

Now, as an employee of the Department of Veterans Affairs, his remarks come in the wake of the VA’s announcement that last year, veterans accounted for roughly 20 percent of the estimated 30,000 annual suicides in the United States, an increased number of which involved the purposeful provocation of lethal force from law enforcement officers.

“Veterans don’t hurt you guys,” said Shaw. “We hurt ourselves. But if officers are familiar with the possible symptoms of PTSD, they can better make recommendations as to where people might seek treatment.”

Shaw had previously spoken with the ACPD’s negotiations team on crisis resolution in PTSD sufferers. “Extending the conversation to officers was naturally the next step,” said Albemarle Police Sergeant Darrell Byers. “It was something we all needed to hear, but officers deal with people first.”

Shaw’s approach is in many ways an extension of the normal Crisis Intervention Training curriculum for the ACPD. Eighty-two percent of Albemarle County police officers have gone through CIT training, a 40-hour week-long class in which officers are taught to communicate with individuals in critical states and refer them to mediatory and therapeutic resources.

“We’re taught how to recognize certain issues and deal with them without having to put people behind bars,” said Byers. “But PTSD issues also have bearing on our in-house counseling for our own officers. You have officers that are involved in shootings or who continuously see violent crime scenes, and these things have an adverse affect on us. We’re just as human as everybody else.”

Categories
Arts

Capsule Reviews

 

THEATERS:

Carmike Cinema 6 (1005 Garden Blvd., 973-4294)

Regal Downtown 6  (200 W. Main St., 979-7669)

Regal Seminole Square 4 (2306 India Dr., 978-1607)

Vinegar Hill Theatre (220 W. Market St., 977-4911)