Arts Editor Tami Keaveny has navigated the world of arts and entertainment through a variety of marketing and public relations jobs. She has worked at WBCN, BAM Music magazine, Bonnie Simmons Management, Bill Graham Presents, Tickets.com, ClearChannel Entertainment, WordHampton Public Relations, Starr Hill Presents, and SMG before taking the desk as Arts Editor at C-VILLE Weekly. She calls San Francisco State University her alma mater and Charlottesville, Virginia her home. Hobbies include: amateur food photography, junk food culture (Food Seen), orchid killing, offensive cross-stitch, vintage glassware collecting, and wine with everything.
Since the early ’90s we’ve become used to Dave Matthews sightings around town—the affable hometown boy is generous with his time and his support of the local community. Yet there was something extra special about his pop-in to the final night of Live Arts’ 30 in 30 virtual celebration in May. With little fanfare, Matthews appeared onscreen from a studio and reminisced about his early days playing at Live Arts.
“I played this song at one of the coffee houses in the very beginning, and it was nice to be a part of it,” he drawled before launching into an acoustic rendition of DMB’s “I’ll Back You Up.” Matthews talked about trying to figure out his life during his time as a local bartender, something he says he’s “not doing as much” nowadays, and gave credit to Live Arts and community theater for helping to ease his fear of performing in front of people. “Which I still am,” he admitted before sending the audience on its way with a heartfelt delivery of “Virginia in the Rain.”
Friendly arrangement: It’s hard to make a vase of flowers look bad, but an expert floral arranger can take your bouquet to another level. Debi Burdick of Fawn Over Flora leads a sunset gathering filled with flowers, wine, music, and friends at Flower Party at Cardinal Point Winery. Local farms provide the blooms, and copies of Erin Benzakein’s Floret Farm’s Cut Flower Garden will be available at a discounted price.
There are so many pandemic woes that when a rare silver lining appears, it’s a terrific reminder that joy still exists. Myo Quinn is one of those lights, and her appearance on the Charlottesville food scene makes us all better.
Quinn admits that she wasn’t supposed to be here. But when COVID-19 surged through New York City in spring of 2020, she and her husband packed their three boys into a rental car and headed south. They stopped in Orange, Virginia, for a night. That turned into a week, then a month. Eventually Quinn says they set their sights on “the biggest, closest town” and landed in Charlottesville.
It wasn’t the first time Quinn had made a radical pivot. She quit a hedge fund career after having her second child, and went to culinary school, where she put her love of cooking and her mother’s food wisdom together for what she calls her second life.
After cooking on the line for Danny Meyer’s Gramercy Tavern and Untitled, Quinn turned to food writing and recipe development. Her contributions can be found digitally on the Food Network, Delish, and Good Housekeeping. Last fall, her friendship with Holly Hammond of Whisper Hill Farm led to the formation of Pear, an IX Art Park Farmers Market stall that offers unique baked goods.
What does a recipe developer do?
There are two approaches. First, you pitch a recipe that you want to put out there. For example, I’m Korean so it might be a Korean recipe that the Food Network is lacking. If it gets approved, you write the recipe from beginning to end. You cook it, test it. Then a big part of it is introducing it to the reader. What it is, what to keep in mind, what’s important—the tips and tricks.
A second way is that the platform might come to you and say, for instance, “We don’t have a good stuffed cabbage recipe.” So they’ll assign a recipe to you. You’ll have to research it. If it’s a flavor profile you’re not familiar with you’ll have to make it several times. Ask the right questions to the right people.
Do you have a favorite or a major success?
The platform would measure that by likes, or comments, or ratings. For me, I am proudest when it’s a recipe that is familiar to me. A recipe that comes from something that I cook frequently for my family. Most recently it was a miso-braised kale that is served over multigrain rice.
Was cooking a big part of your childhood?
Yes. My mother is a very good cook. She is also a very smart cook. I always joke that all of the things I could’ve learned in a professional kitchen I came into the professional kitchen already knowing because my mom had taught me: How to be efficient. How to be thoughtful. How to work with urgency. How to clean up as you’re working. And how to be a better eater, which means trying everything.
How did Pear come to be?
Pear is the result of a friendship between Holly of Whisper Hill Farm and me. We met at the IX farmers’ market last summer. Over this past Christmas holiday, Holly came up with the idea to make cookie boxes…I think the final count was 4,200 cookies between the two of us.
That number is representative of how Holly and I approach life. We often joke that we do everything with gusto. So, Pear is a continuation of holiday baking.
Holly recently went back to farming so it’s just me right now. Every Thursday on Instagram we announce the menu that will be available on the following Saturday. I always try to have something with citrus, seasonal fruit, chocolate, caramel, and spice; something with a vegetable; and something with cinnamon.
Recently I had an ah-ha moment when I realized I needed to always have something for kids. Because when a kid walks up and says, “This is all grown-up stuff” and walks away, the whole family walks away.
What ingredient will never be used in your cooking?
I grew up in Asunción, Paraguay. There are so many mango trees there, and as a child you ride your bicycle on the roads and you squash the mangoes. It splashes up through your bicycle wheels and you end up smelling of ripe mango, which some people covet, but it reminds me of really hot, humid summers where you just can’t get rid of it. So, mangoes.
What are some of the local discoveries that have impressed you?
When I arrived I put out a message on a Facebook group, asking, “What is the one thing that represents Charlottesville?” and people said it was the ham biscuits. So we worked our way through the ham biscuits.
I think something Charlottesville does really well is curry. Thai curry, even compared to New York, the red curry from Chimm. Pearl Island chicken curry is phenomenal. I went out of my way to talk to [chef Sober Pierre] because I was in tears when I had it. I was like, “Wow. I didn’t realize how homesick I was.”
What do you make of Charlottesville’s food scene?
As a chef that has been cooking and eating in New York City for the past 15 years or so, the biggest challenge I’ve had is to figure out what this community is willing to eat. Just like each family has specific eating habits, each community has food preferences.
There are times when I feel very vulnerable baking here. I love that the customers will ask lots of questions and try things, then come back every week. But I’m making something completely different, and always feeling like, “Are people gonna come?”
Myo Quinn’s miso-braised kale with multigrain rice
Multigrain rice
1 cup medium-grain white rice
1/2 cup millet
1/4 cup sweet rice
1/4 cup quinoa
Braised kale
2 tbs. neutral oil, such as grapeseed or vegetable
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 scallion, finely chopped (white and green parts)
2 tbs. agave syrup (or whatever sweetener you prefer)
2 tsp. soy sauce
2 tsp. unseasoned rice wine vinegar
Cook the multigrain rice: Rinse and drain the white rice, millet, sweet rice, and quinoa. Place in a medium pot with two cups of water. Cook over high heat, uncovered, until it comes to a boil. Reduce heat to the lowest setting, cover, and cook for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let sit for five minutes to finish cooking. Do not uncover! (That would release all the steam you need to make the rice fluffy.) Meanwhile, cook the kale: In a large skillet over medium-high heat, add the oil, garlic, and scallion. Cook, stirring continuously, until fragrant, about one minute. Add the kale in batches, stirring with each addition (the kale will slowly wilt, creating space for more kale). Stir in the stock, miso, agave, and soy sauce. Bring to a simmer, then cover and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook for five minutes, allowing the flavors to meld. Right before serving, drizzle with the vinegar and stir to combine. Taste and adjust the soy sauce or agave syrup if needed. To serve, divide the multigrain rice among four bowls and top each with the braised kale.
Late afternoon light pours into The Ridley’s stylish dining room through tall street-facing glass walls, warming a dark-wood interior accented by copper features and splashes of UVA orange. Sitting in a booth, chef Robert Anglin is shy, and calm, even though service starts in just two hours. The upscale restaurant opened its doors on April 1 in The Draftsman hotel on West Main Street, and it’s Anglin’s first executive chef position.
“Patience,” says Anglin. “With food you have to be patient. What I took from my culinary school experience is patience.”
That demeanor likely serves Anglin well. Opening a new restaurant is tough under normal circumstances. When you’re developing a concept that honors an important legacy, in the middle of a global pandemic, in a food-fussy town, the pressure is on. Fortunately, the 28-year-old has been working toward this moment for years.
In November 2020, hospitality partners Warren Thompson and Ron Jordan announced their restaurant, which is named for Dr. Walter N. Ridley, the first Black University of Virginia graduate and the first Black student to receive an academic doctoral degree from a traditional Southern white college or university.
It was up to Anglin to shape a dining experience to complement the restaurant’s historical significance (a percentage of the Black-owned restaurant’s profits are donated to The Ridley Foundation). His opening menu is a celebration of familiar Southern comfort foods, elevated by lots of fresh seafood and a few flavorful surprises.
“A lot of our dishes have a little twist,” says Anglin. “I would ask people to come here and be open minded. Look for a lot of flavor in the food. There’s a lot of infused spices.”
Perfectly crusted fried green tomatoes show up in the Caprese salad and on an ample share plate piled with crab ravigote. The pork belly starter is an indulgent combo of sweetness and heat, and oysters can be enjoyed in a variety of dishes. The blackened snapper with andouille sausage, blistered tomato, and fried leeks over spicy grits stands out as an example of Anglin’s modern finesse.
Anglin leans forward with a determined look as he passionately recounts the kitchen experiences that brought him to this point in his career. His first cooking job was as a teenager at Domino’s, where he says he loved tossing pizzas. “It’s like a piece of art, watching how it comes out,” he says.
A dishwashing gig at Pippin Hill Farm & Vineyards put him firmly on the culinary path. Pippin’s executive chef at the time, Amalia Scatena, nurtured Anglin’s curiosity about food and pushed him into the kitchen. “It was the black truffles that got me,” he says. “It clicked in my head and I wanted to learn more.” His commitment was so impressive that Scatena helped pay for Anglin’s formal culinary training.
Local chefs Ian and Allie Redshaw were also mentors. “Robert had all of the makings for a good chef; attention to detail, ability to do production,” says Ian. “Allie and I spoke with Robert a lot about food and the ideas behind it. From there he has used his work ethic to move up the ladder. A true showing of where self worth can take you.”
Anglin’s food education came through observation—and exploring. Counting eating as a hobby, along with rollerblading and going muddin’ in his Jeep, Anglin often crisscrosses the region to find great restaurants. He’s into sushi, Asian spices, and has tried lots of squid. He’s also tasted cicadas, but alligator was the “weirdest.” “Maybe it was the preparation,” says Anglin.
What Anglin gleans from his dining findings is that simplicity and quality ingredients are the essentials. The Ridley dish he feels best represents his style is the pork chop. “I get a local pork chop from Madison County’s Papa Weaver, brine it for eight to 12 hours with vinegar and herbs. It’s served with kale, mixed fingerling potatoes…add white wine with garlic and a splash of butter. That’s me,” says Anglin. “Plain and simple. Earthy.”
Thompson, who has served for eight years on both the Darden Foundation’s Board of Trustees and the Board of Visitors at UVA, was a financial supporter of the university’s Memorial to Enslaved Laborers, which is within walking distance of The Ridley. He says he wants to replicate the connection between food and history that happens in other places, such as the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, D.C., and its connection to Sweet Home Cafe.
Almost two months in, the COVID pandemic is easing up, and the restaurant is beginning to make its mark. “The Ridley is about bringing people together and nothing does that better than good food,” says Thompson.
As for his take on the restaurant’s fledgling chef? “The shrimp and grits is more than a meal, it’s an experience,” says Thompson. “And if you’ve never had a fried lobster tail, you are missing out on one of my favorites.”
Find The Ridley’s menu, hours, and more at www.theridleyva.com.
The Charlottesville food scene lost a bright and passionate figure when Justin Ross passed away unexpectedly on March 26, at the age of 40. Those who knew the talented restaurateur and wine connoisseur remember him for his beaming smile and commitment to hospitality.
Ross moved to Charlottesville in 2013 to launch modern Mediterranean restaurant Parallel 38 in The Shops at Stonefield, but it was love that brought him here.
Jackie Bright worked with Ross at José Andrés’ Zaytinya in Washington, D.C., where Ross was the beverage director and general manager.
“He was probably one of the most exceptional hospitality leaders I had met,” remembers Bright. “He just had this passion for creating an experience for guests, and also brought so much joy to the team.”
Bright left Zaytinya in 2008 to return to her hometown of Charlottesville. She and Ross kept in touch, and reconnected when Bright returned to visit her former restaurant crew. The pair had dinner and fell in love. While trying to decide where to live, one of the employees on Andrés’ team suggested that Ross lead a new concept in Charlottesville, making the couple’s decision easy.
Born in Maryland in 1980, Ross began working in kitchens as a teenager, and spent his whole career in hospitality. “He loved being with people, serving people wine, food—all of the energy around hospitality,” says Bright. He was adamant that his staff use the word guest instead of customer.
Warm, kind, and food savvy, Ross befriended guests and employees alike. They tell stories about his mischievousness—becoming a Red Sox fan in a Yankees family—and whimsy—leading a dinner party into a soaking summer rainstorm.
Former Parallel 38 manager Jesse Fellows met Ross a little less than a decade ago.
“We became fast friends, and it very quickly felt like he had been in my life forever,” says Fellows. “There are too many stories to pick one, but a common theme among them was Justin’s brilliance, fierce loyalty, and very personal brand of kindness. He always remembered the smallest details and took time out of his busy schedule to make people feel special.”
A wine fanatic who held an Advanced Sommelier certification, Ross frequently delved into his own collection to further a guest’s experience. “When you wanted an excellent bottle of wine and conversation to match, you went to see Justin,” says Tavola’s Michael Keaveny. “And that pork belly dish in the early days of Parallel 38 set the bar for everyone else in town.”
Nothing was more important to Ross than sharing his passions with loved ones. In 2013, he told the Charlottesville 29 food blog: “I’m not sure what’s better about our regular C&O date night, a much-needed break with my lovely lady or the sweetbreads.”
“We had dinner together every single night,” says Bright. “Even when he was working in the restaurant I would wait for him to come home. We always waited for each other.”
He and Bright welcomed a son in 2018, and Ross was thrilled to have a new partner at his side to pursue life’s adventures. An outdoor enthusiast, he took his toddler on hikes at Monticello and Walnut Creek, and kept maps of the trails, marking their progress each time out. When cooking his much-loved Sunday gravy recipe, he’d hold Dash in his arms, teaching him the gifts of his Italian heritage.
“I’ve never seen someone so devoted to a child,” says Bright. “He would refer to Dash as his best friend.”
As Bright reflects on the span of culinary experiences she shared with Ross, sausage and peppers is the dish she will always remember, and she’s especially grateful for their trip to explore the Champagne houses of France, where Ross was playing with dogs, drinking Champagne, and the couple revelled in the extraordinary hospitality of their hosts. In that happy moment Ross was a guest.
At the time of his passing, Ross had recently been hired as the general manager for Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s new fine-dining restaurant at Keswick Hall. He was ready to pour his heart and soul into the high-profile project. “He wanted to create something really special for people,” says Bright.
A celebration of Justin Ross’ life will take place at King Family Vineyards on April 23, his 41st birthday. For information on how to contribute to a college fund for Dash Ross, contact Meredith Coe at coemeredith@gmail.com.
Art can be intimidating. In talking with Chicho Lorenzo, Benita Mayo, Heather Owens, Michael Jones, and Megan Read, five visual artists currently working in Charlottesville, we’ve learned about each artists’ process, their comfort zones, and how they overcome their own fears when staring at a blank canvas or searching through a lens. Each one mentioned the value of community, and the vulnerabilities around putting creative output into the world. Their words offer a chance to find our own connections to the gifts of art.
I came here in 2008 when Charlottesville was voted one of the best places to live in the U.S. When I moved here my English was very bad…people related to me as ‘he’s exotic, he’s a Spaniard’ and that was okay. I found the general atmosphere here to be peaceful, and it was a quiet town. To me it was a little bit of a utopia. I’ve come to this place and everybody is happy.
A collective muse:
My work, and I would say my whole life, is very based in mutual cooperation. I don’t take credit for what I make, what I paint. For what I create, I take credit in terms of what I practice every day, so my hand knows. But my topics are very influenced and affected by what is happening around me.
Sowing the seeds of art:
A mural is like a garden. You take care of a garden and things can grow from there.
The mural on Barracks Road had an issue with graffiti on the wall, and I incorporated it. On this mural, there is a figure of a girl with a magic wand, leading the parade. Somebody painted the symbol for Om in white on the tip of her wand, and I thought, “That is super cool. It adds the magic to the magic wand.” I don’t know who painted it, but it makes it a community work.
On art’s impact:
Artists, in many ways, are responsible for creating the impossible. I can draw whatever. If I paint it, if I draw it, it becomes real for you when you see it.
When painting the mural at MAS tapas, there was a guy outside all the time who talked to me very often. He told me, “Mother always wanted me to have a farm.” So I painted a little farm for him far away in the distance, and he got so happy. That is an example of what [art] gives to people in small ways.
For me, my work is a way to ask questions and not necessarily answer them. Some artists present a problem. Mine are just questions.
I get a lot out of hearing from people who are viewing the work. They all feel very personal because I always have something in my mind that’s related to my home life, my personal life, or something that’s going on in the world.
On planning:
I do come with inspiration and (with watercolors) I come with a lot of preliminary sketching. I’ve come in without a plan before and I just end up with a mud painting. So I really have had to plan out more than I used to and it’s been a really good experience.
On making mistakes:
I had a professor who said that the difference between good art and great art is being able to completely ruin a piece by doing something that you think might make it better. That’s something I try to keep in my head as I am working. You have to be willing to completely mess something up.
The art of nature:
I grew up hiking and I used to go off in the woods all the time. I just love finding small unobserved things. Like you go out and see animals interacting of course, but I always enjoyed finding weird insects under rocks, I enjoyed finding these details of life that you don’t normally observe or are not normally privy to. The small interconnected pieces of life that happen in these out of the way places that impact the overall world.
I overheard two people talking about my work and saying it reminded them of Henry Darger. And that made me really happy to hear. He does these incredible paintings of forests with little girls in them. Kind of creepy and fairytale-inspired and I think that’s very much the kind of imagery I tend toward in my work.
The forest feels very familiar and safe to me but also has that element of being wild and uncertain at the same time. I think that duality is something I do try to look for in my work. Being in a place that is both familiar and unfamiliar.
I am coming into the word artist. I’ve never used the word to describe myself before. Photography is my jam. In a way it’s become a very important part of my life and in others it’s become a meditation for me. It allows me to escape and allows me to get to know myself better. Some might call it contemplative photography.
On catching the shutterbug:
It’s been an evolution. When my grandmother retired from teaching she would go on trips and come back with all these photos. She was documenting, and I think in a way I have become an extension of that.
I was getting ready to take a trip to Europe, and thought, “I cannot go to Italy and bring back awful pictures. I just cannot do it.”
I went on my trip…even hired a professional photographer to take me around Florence. He had access to the Duomo, and took me way up in this apartment building that had a perfect view. I took that photo, brought it back…and entered it into competition and got a blue ribbon.
That was it. I didn’t think I would fall in love with the craft. But that little taste encouraged me to want to know more about the art of photography and study the craft.
On the C’ville effect:
Ironically I came back in August 2017 when August 12 happened and all the craziness. That was something I didn’t recognize and that was really weird for me. When I was a student here (in the ’80s), I’m not sure I was as in tune to what was happening with the University and the community.
I think what’s happened in the Charlottesville community has probably helped me to tap into some feelings that I wasn’t even aware of. It’s also made me more curious about lots of things. More curious about the people I meet, things that I hear, things that I see. It’s almost hard to articulate.
Knowing in the moment:
I was in Taos, New Mexico, and I met this gentleman. His name was Augustine, and I found his face to be so interesting. His eyes had a deepness. I could see his soul through his eyes.
We start to talk, and I begin to realize that he and I are the same.
He was Native American, I was African American. He was male, I was female. Other than that, there were so many things that overlapped.
He invited me into his home that he was building. I later found out that that is something that almost never happens. Just in the span of 15 to 20 minutes we had formed this connection.
I can see it as clearly as if it happened yesterday. He was sitting in his truck and I just remember seeing this glimpse, this knowing, so to speak. And I took the photo. I call it my first real portrait.
On staying focused:
My yoga and my meditation practices teach me to approach things with a beginner’s mind. It’s very freeing when you do that. You let go of any preconceived notions, it allows you to let go.
Yoga and photography kind of work hand in hand together. My meditation practice, my yoga practice inform my photography and I see photography more like poetry now.
My main medium is motion pictures, so film and video. I started writing first, but I didn’t go to school for any of those things. I’m self-taught. As far as filmmaking is concerned, I have had on-the-job training with various companies in the area, but most of what I know is a result of my own research, my own studies, my own experimentation.
Choosing your passion:
I really found my passion for cinema when I started interacting with filmmaking groups and getting hands-on experience. I realized there really wasn’t anything else I wanted to do for my career.
The idea of struggling with and doing something that you like seemed like a better idea. So in 2019, I said goodbye to the full-time job and started filmmaking full-time.
Letting the ideas out:
After a certain point of working or experimenting in the various mediums, you’re not necessarily forcing ideas out anymore, they are just kind of coming to you organically.
It’s kind of a nebulous thing, but it just appears in my head. It’s sometimes sparked by something in daily life sometimes not. It’s hard to describe how it comes about. If I don’t do anything, an idea will sit in my head and bug me. So I have to get it out. That applies to whatever I do, whether that’s writing, or photography, or filmmaking.
On following the narrative:
Constantly working is important to me so I tend to do a lot of documentary work. But I am constantly writing ideas for fictional films. I’m only starting to get around to making this happen.
If you had to describe me based on my current portfolio, you’d describe me as a documentary filmmaker, but that’s not how I feel. I feel like a different type of filmmaker.
All of my paintings are meticulously created in oil, sometimes on linen and sometimes on panels, and in general these quiet, shadowy works revolve around traditional elements like flowers or the nude figure (or both) but often include contemporary references. And I paint hands. Lots of hands.
Emerging as an artist:
It was the thing that always came naturally. I remember when I was about 7, and already an avid drawer, being shown by a friend of the family how not to draw what I thought I knew, but only the light and shadow, the shapes, how to use my eyes, and feeling like everything changed. But it never occured to me that it was a career option.
I suppose having my first successful solo show was the thing that made me feel like this was officially “a thing” but even now, no matter how well things go and how far my work travels, the imposter syndrome is strong. Probably always will be.
On Charlottesville:
When I began showing I didn’t think there was a chance that anyone here would be interested in actually buying my work and, on the contrary, there has been such an outpouring of support I am still reeling. And with the internet connecting all of us so easily, not being in a big city hasn’t made much difference in terms of connecting with galleries and participating in international shows so it’s been a very comfortable place to be.
It hasn’t really influenced my process or the content of my work, but has certainly made a huge difference in allowing me the space to create the work that I want to.
Art is a battlefield:
People think that painting must just be this lovely, pleasant pasttime and sometimes that couldn’t be further from the case. It’s true that the reason I loved drawing and painting from the beginning was because it is soothing in certain ways, it’s an escape, and it works with my tendency towards hyperfocus (in very specific areas). But, with painting there is at least as much time where it feels like an all-out war where nothing works the way I want it to. Where I can’t control this ridiculous gooey substance. Where paintings fall off of easels. Where I am sure that whatever I am working on couldn’t possibly turn into something worth looking at. Where I wonder why I bother and it seems impossible. And then there is light again.
So the paintings from the outside are serene and quiet in most cases, but the process of their creation is the most tumultuous thing I have ever experienced and it goes in waves.
Birthday Bowie: In the mid-’80s, a Jim Henson and George Lucas film collaboration was guaranteed to generate big buzz—tack on the casting of rock star/actor David Bowie, and the anticipation was palpable. The musical fantasy Labyrinth follows the journey of a teenage girl through a maze to rescue her baby brother. Other than Bowie and lead actress Jennifer Connelly, the film is cast mainly
with puppets, and it was a bust at the box office before growing into a cult classic (and a way to commemorate the singer’s January 8 birthday) over the past three decades.
Saturday 1/9. $5-8, 3 and 7pm. The Paramount Theater, 215 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. 979-1333. theparamount.net.
Band of brothers: With a sound beyond their years, you’d never guess that the Heetderks brothers are all under age 17. Picking out traditional bluegrass and gospel as The Earlysville Bluegrass Boys, David (banjo, dobro), John (mandolin, fiddle), and Daniel (guitar, bass) have made a name for themselves by charming audiences at church picnics and on CPA-TV’s “Blue Ridge Barn Dance.” The Boys recent Christmas countdown on Facebook captured their talent through originals, standards, and a wild reworking of “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” The trio’s appearance on the virtual Save the Music series will benefit Meals on Wheels of Charlottesville/Albemarle.
Get out together: Some of the best aspects of the season are on display during a tour of Wildrock’s Winter Wonderland Trail. Track animals and learn their survival habits, get an up-close look at snowflake patterns, and play a woodland game to match gnome mittens. Small groups can make a reservation to enjoy this family-friendly, safety-conscious nature discovery center. The trail is moderately difficult with two stream crossings and an uphill climb.
Cullen “Fellowman” Wade (right) didn’t set out to create an album about loss during such a dark time in history. And despite its title, Death of an Author, which has been two years in the making, is rooted in creativity, catharsis, and enlightenment rather than morbidity. With a slew of covers and originals dedicated to lost musical heroes, the project underlines Wade’s vast knowledge of his subjects, with tributes to legends from Sean Price, Jimi Hendrix, and Prince to John Prine, Joe Strummer, and Grant Hart of Hüsker Dü. The rapper and producer implores listeners to allow an artist’s work to have a deeper impact than the individual personality or cult of celebrity. Wade will perform the album in a livestream, with special guests Harli Saxon, Waterloo from Beetnix, Remy St. Clair, Eric Cope, DJ Double U, and DJ Bovay.