This winter I upgraded my point-and-shoot
camera to a mirrorless Sony NEX. Finally having a nice camera to use, I
googled “photography contest” and came across a curiously titled site
called Capture Cincinnati.
In New York, under the
stage name Patti Astor, she became a club habitué and Queen of the
Downtown Screen. She was a star of some of the underground No Wave films
of the late 1970s/early 1980s that helped spark New York’s grungy and
wildly creative East Village arts scene.
For the past three years, Building Value has included a “designer challenge” element at their ReUse-apalooza fundraiser, which demonstrates the remarkable work that artists and creative types can make out of the materials the nonprofit acquires from various deconstruction jobs, donations and retail recycling projects.
David Zlatic designed a production — scenery, lighting in
the style of film noir and a stream of well executed photographic and
video projections in moody black-and-white — that works very well, including Desmond’s mansion with a sweeping central staircase.
The Hilton Brothers — photographers
Christopher Makos and Paul Solberg — have arrived in Cincinnati with
food on their minds. They don’t specify that it needs to be organic, but
it might as well be. The term pops up repeatedly as the New Yorkers
discuss their natural, open-ended approach to life, art and
“If something is worth doing, it’s worth overdoing,” proclaims one of the spunky gals in the current iteration of The Marvelous Wonderettes
at Ensemble Theatre Cincinnati this month. ETC apparently agrees, since
this is the fourth consecutive year it has staged one of Roger Bean’s
retro shows featuring music from the ’50s and ’60s.
Cincinnati Rollergirl rookie Sydney “Big
Ugly” Greathouse is anything but unsightly. She has an infectious smile
to match her peaceful demeanor, which probably has something to do with
the fact that she blows off steam by beating up her friends at practice
three times a week.
Director Brian Isaac Phillips has set his production in the U.S. in the 1920s.
It’s a good match to Jacobean London and we
are given visual insight into the characters — from puritanical tyrants
in three-piece business suits to loose men in fur coats and lowlife
women as flappers.
The huge stone quarries that hide in the
landscapes of Ohio, Indiana and Kentucky are strange things, monsters of
ruggedly carved-out negative space that — when abandoned and filled
with water — attract illicit swimmers and divers.