Categories
Arts

Healing artistry: Electro-pop project The Near Misses finds beauty in pain

The Pie Chest is a strange place to talk about trauma. Its abundant natural light and mom-and-pop feel don’t lend themselves to discussing the details of near-death experiences—stories that include a failed suicide attempt and a catastrophic German blitz, dating from World War II. But this was the location chosen by Jennifer Tidwell and Paige Naylor to chat about The Near Misses, a name for both the “electropop opera” band they have assembled and the death-adjacent tales the band will perform onstage.

Maybe the cheery choice of restaurant can be explained by what both Tidwell and Naylor continually emphasize throughout the conversation: The women who comprise The Near Misses don’t intend to wallow in the trauma they depict. Rather, says Naylor, “it’s about healing.”

“And reclaiming,” Tidwell adds.

The two are co-producers of The Near Misses, but the project was Tidwell’s brainchild back in 2012. She says she was inspired by the “notion of grace.” Tidwell’s not talking about everyday elegance—she evokes the word’s divine definition. She found herself drawn to survivor stories. There was enormous artistic potential in these stories, she knew. But in 2012, she wasn’t quite ready to harness it.

She also didn’t have the time to try—The Near Misses is just the latest of many artistic projects with Tidwell’s name attached. She’s best known for founding Charlottesville Lady Arm Wrestlers (CLAW), adapted to Collective of Lady Arm Wrestlers when it caught on in other states, but she’s also a co-founder of the all-female theater collective PEP and a constant collaborator with local artists and organizations.

Being an icon among Charlottesville creatives requires considerable energy, and Tidwell delivers. It’s visible in her hand movements as she speaks, fingers tracing shapes in the air and gesturing excitedly at Naylor, who is a bit more reserved but no less passionate. Aside from co-producing, Naylor is also the show’s composer and one of the performers. She glows with quiet anticipation when describing the music she has created for The Near Misses—“minimalist, medieval pop.”

Much of the conversation focuses around explaining what, exactly, The Near Misses will be. The band’s planned performance is as complex and intersectional as the trauma it seeks to represent, and while this is a testament to Tidwell and Naylor’s creative abilities, it’s not easily summed up.

The group is composed of four women—Naylor, multi-instrumentalist Catherine Monnes, theatre artist Kara McLane Burke, and dance artist and UVA lecturer Katie Baer Shetlick. (Tidwell, also directing, will remain offstage.) Their two-night debut will be the same show in different spaces—first The Southern on May 31, then Live Arts on June 1. Tidwell says this is because they want to prepare for different types of venues, with an East Coast tour planned in the fall.

These four performers will act out six songs of varying lengths, each relating a woman’s near-death experience. The songs will be accompanied by Naylor on keytar, along with three set instruments in the forms of dry leaves, an oven, and a doorway—“which is actually a ladder,” Tidwell confides. The song cycle lasts about 40 minutes, followed by the show’s finale: a sound collage compiled of other recorded near-death experiences.

Along with the WWII Blitz and the unsuccessful suicide, which Tidwell says was attempted in a “mock-Sylvia Plath” style, a depiction of sexual assault is the subject of another song, along with a piece about those who were injured on the Downtown Mall on August 12, 2017.

Despite the upsetting subject matter, Tidwell says the performance will address both “trauma and all the fruit that it bears”—what she calls a “really rich combination.” Tidwell also says that early reactions have been overwhelmingly positive. “I talked to friends of mine who have experienced profound trauma, and they’re happy to know that this is being represented in a way that’s not just pitying. …These people who have been hurt, they want to be heard.”

Naylor, who’s been relatively quiet next to Tidwell, finds her own burst of energy when she has to leave The Pie Chest early. She talks quickly, with excitement, about the project even as she stands to go. “It’s been such a privilege to hear all these stories and to make something out of them,” she says. “Now that I’ve heard their stories, I feel like there’s a connection there. There’s an understanding that is really incredible.”

Even after an hour-long conversation with its creators, it’s difficult to predict what to expect from The Near Misses. Certain aspects of the show feel inevitably grim, but as Naylor and Tidwell repeatedly stress, the goal is not to depress. The progression of the show mirrors the mental progression of someone who experiencing and recovering from trauma. It may be a difficult journey, but as Tidwell says, “some real strength emerges at the end.”

The Near Misses / The Southern Café & Music Hall  May 31/ Live Arts June 1

Categories
Living

YOU Issue: Monuments to women: Why doesn’t Charlottesville have any?

“C’ville is awash with monuments. Why no statues to women besides a cowering Sacajawea (who happened to be pregnant but still led the white guys through the wilderness)?” – Donna Lucey

“We do have three statues of women, you know,” says former mayor Virginia Daugherty, her soft Southern voice a bit sly. She’s referring to Sacagawea, crouching at the foot of Lewis and Clark on West Main Street; an angel at the foot of the Jackson statue; and the head of an anonymous woman that appears, along with a man’s, on an abstract statue called “Family” in front of the old jail.

That’s what passes for female representation in Charlottesville’s dozens of monuments, from Homer and multiple likenesses of Thomas Jefferson scattered across Grounds at the University of Virginia, past explorers George Rogers Clark on University Avenue and Lewis and Clark on West Main, and over to the most prominent statues in town: Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and Johnny Reb.

“When you look around, you just think it’s not right, the way that it is,” says Daugherty.

So why hasn’t the city, which is 51.6 percent female, honored any women?

In part, this is a national problem. “Statues of women never get names,” notes journalist Kriston Capps in a CityLab story called “The Gender Gap in Public Sculpture.” “They’re archetypes, symbols, muses, forces.” Of the hundreds of statues in New York City and Washington, D.C., he writes, each city has just five statues that depict historic women. “There are 22 statues of men in Central Park alone, but not one (non-fictional) woman.”

The explanation has to do with who, historically, has commissioned the building of monuments, and for what reasons.

In Charlottesville, the story we tell through our most prominent public monuments was largely written by one man: Paul Goodloe McIntire. As a 5-year-old boy, McIntire reputedly shook his fist at Union troops as they marched past his house in 1865, marking the end of the Confederacy. Decades later, McIntire got his revenge by gifting the city a series of segregated parks and installing the now-infamous statue of Lee, along with Stonewall Jackson, Lewis and Clark, and George Rogers Clark. (McIntire himself is memorialized in a bust behind the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society).

On a recent chilly Saturday morning, roughly 50 people turned out for a Confederate monument tour led by Dr. Andrea Douglas, director of the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, and Dr. Jalane Schmidt, associate professor of religion at UVA.

Beginning at the barely legible plaque commemorating black history at the site where slaves were bought and sold, and ending at the graceful, imposing statue of Lee on his pedestal, Schmidt noted that our monuments show “whose history matters in the community.”

Defenders of our current Confederate monuments often express the desire to “preserve history.” But much of our local history is buried, Schmidt and Douglas said. Court Square Park, for instance, was once the site of a multiracial community called McKee’s Row. Fifty years before the more famous destruction of Vinegar Hill, McKee’s Row was demolished to make way for McIntire’s whites-only park, anchored by the statue of Stonewall Jackson. “You’d never know it,” Schmidt said. “You’re not supposed to know it.”

The Jackson statue, she also pointed out, was erected in 1921, the same year the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan was founded.

The Johnny Reb statue, one of hundreds of similar statues planted in front of courthouses throughout the South after the end of Reconstruction, was erected by the United Daughters of the Confederacy but paid for in part by city and county funds. Among those on the statue committee, said Schmidt, was the prosecutor who declined to charge anyone in the lynching of John Henry James, which was attended by 150 unmasked white men.   

“These are monuments to Jim Crow,” she said.

Other Southern cities have found ways to broadcast new values through their choice of monuments. “What they’ve done in Richmond is really great,” Daugherty says, referring to the way that city has balanced its boulevard of white male Confederate leaders with more recent monuments to female African American heroes like Maggie Walker, a teacher and the first African American woman to charter a bank, and Barbara Johns, who, as a high school student in Farmville, led a student strike to protest separate and unequal schools. Here in Charlottesville, she suggests, the city could recognize a local writer, like Amélie Rives or Julia Magruder, or an activist like Grace Tinsley or Otelia Love Jackson.

“There’s lots of good ideas,” Daugherty concludes. “I think it just takes a little organization.”

Some local women have been recognized in other ways—for instance, Jackson-Via Elementary in the city and Greer Elementary in the county are both named for female educators (Nannie Cox Jackson, Betty Davis Via, and Mary Carr Greer). And in 2011, UVA dedicated a memorial to Kitty Foster, a free black woman who worked as a laundress at the university. (A metal “shadow catcher” sculpture now demarcates the family’s graveyard.)

In 2009, after several protests, the city added a plaque to the Lewis and Clark statue commemorating Sacagawea’s contributions. Performance artist Jennifer Hoyt Tidwell, who organized a “theatrical protest” there in 2007 and started a petition that garnered 500 signatures, says the plaque was “a very minor concession to our protest,” and that she had hoped the city would make a bigger gesture.

As for new monuments to women, she says, “I would say I’m ignorant, like a lot of people, about what that would look like.”

But she’s not so sure about statues.    

“I think a living way where you have artists who are paid to keep these things alive,” she suggests. For instance, she and other female artists were commissioned by UVA last spring to perform pieces at the Lee and George Rogers Clark statues, in response to August 12.

“In terms of countering a lot of the male statues I guess it’s important,” she says of the idea of women monuments. “But putting a lot of land into memorializing people…I don’t know if that’s the way to go.”


While Jackson and Lee never set foot in Charlottesville, there are plenty of notable women who actually lived here whose stories are largely unknown. Here are just a few:

Nancy Astor

1. Nancy Astor Nancy Witcher Langhorne was born in Danville and moved, at age 13, to an estate in Albemarle County. After an early, unhappy marriage to socialite Robert Gould Shaw II, Nancy moved to England, married fellow expat Waldorf Astor, and became the first woman to serve in Parliament.

Sarah Patton Boyle

2. Sarah Patton Boyle Boyle was born on a former plantation in Albemarle County, the granddaughter of Confederate veterans. She attended the Corcoran School of Art, married, and raised two sons. As she got older, she began questioning the views she was raised with and became an outspoken advocate for desegregation, writing hundreds of articles and speeches for the cause, and drawing attention from both Martin Luther King, Jr., who mentioned her by name in his Letter from Birmingham Jail, and the Ku Klux Klan, which burned a cross on her yard. The first white person to serve on the board of Charlottesville’s NAACP, Boyle was later recognized by the city as a “Bridge Builder,” with her name on the Drewary Brown Bridge.

Frances Brand

3. Frances Brand An artist and activist once known around town as “the purple lady,” Brand was born at West Point and attained the rank of Army major, doing liaison and intelligence work. In later life she became an activist for peace, women’s rights, civil rights, and other causes. Her “First” series of paintings commemorate more than 150 notable but under-recognized local citizens, many of them women or African Americans. (The paintings were bought by the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society, but are not currently displayed, and were removed from the organization’s website after a recent redesign).

Queen Charlotte

4. Queen Charlotte There are two statues of Queen Charlotte in one of her other namesake cities, Charlotte, North Carolina, but none here in Charlottesville. Legend has it that the German monarch, who married the British “mad King George,” wrote a widely circulated anti-war letter to Prussian king Frederick the Great, and was committed to social welfare. But in recent years, especially after Meghan Markle’s wedding to Prince Harry, Queen Charlotte is perhaps best known for being (possibly) the first black British monarch.

Isabella Gibbons

5. Isabella Gibbons Born into slavery, Gibbons managed to learn to read and write, and taught her children to do so as well. After the Civil War, she established a school for freed blacks, earned her own diploma, and then taught in the newly established (segregated) public school system for more than 15 years.

Alice Carlotta Jackson

6. Alice Carlotta Jackson Jackson was the first African American to apply to UVA, in 1935. After earning a BA in English and taking additional courses at Smith College, Jackson applied to UVA for a master’s in French, which was not offered at any of the black colleges and universities in Virginia. The Board of Visitors denied her application, but it set off a series of public arguments, and the threat of a future lawsuit led the Virginia General Assembly to pass the Dovell Act, which paid qualified black students the additional money required to attend schools out of state. Jackson used her grant money to earn a master’s degree from Columbia University, and taught at a Florida college for 45 years.

Grace Tinsley

7. Grace Tinsley Tinsely was the first African American woman elected to the Charlottesville School Board. “[She] used her voice on the board to make sure that people were treated fairly,” her daughter told Charlottesville Tomorrow. She was also the first nurse to work at Charlottesville High School. After her retirement, Tinsley successfully lobbied to establish a public defender’s office in Charlottesville. The Charlottesville Democratic Party named a scholarship in her honor, which is awarded to Charlottesville High School seniors from low- or middle-income households, and her name is on the Drewary Brown Memorial Bridge.

Amélie Rives Troubetzkoy

8. Amélie Rives Troubetzkoy The goddaughter of Robert E. Lee, Rives was born in Richmond and grew up at Castle Hill, in Albemarle County. She began writing as a young girl, and her bestselling first novel scandalized many for its portrayal of a woman who experienced sexual feelings. She went on to write more novels and, later, Broadway plays. After divorcing her first husband, she married Prince Pierre Troubetzkoy, an artist and aristocrat, and the couple moved back to Rives’ childhood home.

Categories
Arts

Art in Odd Places explores matter and historical interpretation

This week, New York-based artist Ed Woodham brings his Art in Odd Places festival to Charlottesville in a two-day, intensely collaborative event with the theme of “matter.” Sponsored by the UVA Studio Arts Board, the mission of AiOP, Woodham writes in the program guide, “is to engage and activate the everyday places in our lives. In creative, unexpected and sometimes unusual ways we claim our shared rights to public spaces, while also making sure to question, subvert and occasionally shake up the socio-political status quo that regulates it.”

Woodham, who takes AiOP to various cities across the country, says, “It’s important for me being an outsider to be very mindful.” During numerous visits to Charlottesville, he has met with and listened to residents, UVA students, community leaders and artists. In past AiOP festivals Woodham has mostly brought in outside artists, but with AiOP MATTER, “the focus here is that there’s so much good work going on in Charlottesville that has been going on for years.” Consequently, the festival features 16 local artists, three regional artists and nine national and international artists. Woodham says the events of August 11 and 12 last year framed a narrow view of Charlottesville that he wanted to reframe by showcasing local artists “doing really innovative, change-making work.”

Local artists Leslie Scott-Jones and Brandon Lee have designed re-enactments for the festival in a work titled “Historical Matters,” which tells “the story of how the other half lived…our ancestors, the names of those Hoo are largely responsible for the building and upkeep of the university,” Scott-Jones and Lee write. Re-enactments on UVA Grounds will portray the lives of enslaved persons who built the university, as well as the first black students. On the second day of the festival, their work will celebrate Queen Charlotte, Charlottesville’s namesake, a descendant of Margarita de Castro e Souza, a black member of the Portuguese royal family. In a procession led by the Colonial Williamsburg Fife and Drum Corps, Queen Charlotte will travel in a carriage from the Rotunda to the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, before meeting the city’s mayor on the Downtown Mall. The procession will include the Monacan Indian Nation and historical interpreters representing enslaved persons and soldiers from various American war efforts.

Local performance artist Jennifer Hoyt Tidwell will contribute a work titled “Please Move Along, Nothing to See Here.” Four performers atop a pedestal will recreate Charlottesville’s statues of Robert E. Lee and George Rogers Clark in an animatronic-style human tableaux with songs and dialogue.

“This short performance will take place every half-hour at both [festival] locations and promises to be entertaining and absurd, and ultimately raw and personal,” says Tidwell. “I am interested in the juxtaposition of women of color portraying colonizing war ‘heroes.’ I think this is going to be an effective device to allow the audience to have a more visceral understanding of what is hidden or invisible in our community—from the geologic features to the erasure of documentation related to enslaved people at UVA and Native Americans here, to the misrepresentation of history solidified in the statues.”

National artist Pedro Lasch, a professor at Duke University, applied both a conceptual and literal interpretation of the theme of matter. His April 1 performance at the Main Street Arena was the last public event held there before the building’s scheduled demolition. “Fire and Ice” recontextualized fire from tiki-torch invasion to positive force.

“Early on,” he says, “I knew I wanted to do something related to the tension and tragic incident of last fall but I did not want to be heavy-handed about it.” Before he came to Charlottesville, he considered a project involving fire and ice and knew he wanted to honor the life of Heather Heyer. When he arrived, he ambled down the pedestrian mall at night, and the arched windows of the Main Street Arena revealed figure skaters spinning on the ice and the idea sparked.

The final act for the installation included hundreds of votive candles placed in the center of the rink with an invitation to the public to skate around them. “It’s celebratory for both Heather Heyer and the building,” says Lasch.