Lately I'm Loving

Things making me smile/on my mind/causing distraction lately:

--Travelers' former CEO and executive chairman, Jay Fishman, passed away last Friday after putting one of the best public faces on ALS in the twenty-first century. I have SO much respect for him and how hard he and his wife Randy worked to raise the profile of the disease...from basically funding the Boston Children's Hospital "voice banking" project, to raising millions through the annual Travelers Championship, he engaged so hard. This fantastic piece from the Hartford Courant brought tears to my eyes - yet another testament to a truly remarkable and courageous leader.  

--Another famous leader I've brushed with? Charlie Weis, infamous ex-coach of Notre Dame. ESPN's brutally honest and revealing profile of Weis in semi-retirement fascinated me. The way they peeled back his character, family, and current mental state layer by layer, interspersed with major names in football and pop culture and snippets of utterly compelling stories, really humanized him for me. I don't know. Having existed on campus with him for my first three years of college, and having suffered through a myriad of painful ND losses, I was never a big Weis fan, and I don't know that I am now. That said, I feel sorry for him, I'm thinking a bit more about the man than the coach. I'm kind of rooting for him, I guess (and also want to be able to text Bon Jovi, so there's that). 

--Closer to home, I'm trying to spend my spare time doing more writing as I come off an insane summer into an equally frenetic fall. Hal and I camped out at Spyhouse, by the MIA, all afternoon last Sunday - he worked on essays while I wrote blogs, emails, and a few other things. It was a day that was simultaneously peaceful and productive, and I need more of those - so I'll be working my way through the spots on this list of top St. Paul coffee spots all fall, I've decided. It'll get me to spend a little more of my leisure time across the river, and with an extra caffeine jolt and far away from the distractions of the apartment, I get so much more done. Anyone in? 

--I love words, and I loved this list of words in foreign languages for emotions that can't be easily explained in English. Things like this never fail to tickle my fancy. Favorites off this list: "énouement," the feeling of arriving in the future and wishing you could tell your past self how something will work out... "liberosis," the desire to care less about things... "vellichor," the smell of a used bookstore (ahhhh I live for the scent of lignin on old book pages!)... and "rucckehrunruhe," the feeling of returning home from a trip and quickly losing that expanded sense of self travel brings. I need to learn a new language...or at least keep up on my French better. 

--Finally, and deliciously irreverently: OLYMPICS, guys. Or should I say Olympic guys? Go Fug Yourself does roundups of the toned body parts and tiny uniforms of all the hot male Olympic athletes every year...see swimming here, track here, and men's gymnastics here. You can thank me for making your entire week later. I'm probably hideously shallow for admitting it, but I'd catch myself pausing the men's gymnastics just to marvel at their biceps. And the divers' tiny, tiny Speedos? Um, yeah. If commentators can talk about female beauty, uniforms, and appearances all Games with impunity, then you better bet I'm going to visually objectify the shit out of every six-pack and toned tricep in Rio. It's probably a good thing the Summer Games only take place every four years...my eyes and heart couldn't take much more.  

Confessions of a Gallery Wall Addict

I've had a gallery wall in every apartment I've lived in, and I've converted my family and roommate into gallery wall-havers as well. I think it's safe to say I'm a little bit addicted. See, the problem is that I have too much art. I've been lucky to receive gorgeous original pieces from my sister, to inherit my mom's hand-me-downs (and she has excellent taste), and to stumble on purchases all over the world. Displaying them all jumbled together is my favorite...but I think a gallery wall is really an art, and doing one well is a science. 

My first apartment's gallery wall was a mishmash of frames from my college dorm room, and I sadly don't think I ever actually took a photo of that bedroom...it predates the blog by years! When Jon and I lived together, though, I had a schmoopy black-and-white collection above our bed. This is before I started using my foolproof gallery wall perfection method, so things were a bit haphazard...and in hindsight, I would've spaced everything out a bit more and probably added more, too. Why the heck not?! 

Then came the Chateau de Liz, and once I finally got around to actually putting everything up five months after I moved in, I fell in love. I spent so much time methodically hanging and arranging, using my genius, tried-and-true kraft paper cutout method, to get everything perfect. For more details and step-by-step photos, head here...it's one of my proudest accomplishments and I haven't done a gallery wall without it since.  

I also had a gallery of wood-mounted pieces above my kitchen table at the Chateau, which have been split up and scattered around my bedroom and living space in the new place. I love how the wood-mounting colors played so nicely together...not going to lie, will probably recreate this if I live alone again anytime in the single-girl future. 

Now, in the House of Hal and Lizzie, I have not one but TWO hardcore, huge gallery walls...life is an abundance of riches, friends! Hal has the most absurd collection of Notre Dame paraphernalia, so we have the Notre Dame-iest gallery wall ever in our front entryway. We were initially going to try to freehand it and just start hammering nails in...thank goodness we didn't. I'm so proud of how precise and geometric it looks after using the kraft paper method! 

And this is my bedroom gallery! Look familiar? It's already got a few new pieces since the Chateau de Liz; like I said, it absorbed a few of the kitchen gallery wall pieces. I also have a BUNCH of art from my Paris and Scandinavia trips at our framer, which will be getting added in the next few weeks...stay tuned! 

Why all the gallery wall chatter? I went down to Lakeville last night and hung one there with my parents! They're working their way through the house room by room and completely renovating, and it's been so much fun to watch. My mom and I were shooting the breeze a few weeks back while I was playing on Pinterest, and I threw out the idea of replacing this truly hideous, outdated 90s mother-and-child painting in our second-floor foyer with a gallery wall. Jodester and Papa Bear buy at least one piece of art on every trip they take, and as a result, our house is a treasure trove of gorgeous prints, lithographs, watercolors, and paintings. Combining a bunch of them in one place, though? Maximum impact, and such a great conversation starter. Here's the finished (for now) product: 

I love it. Especially the fact that there's room to add more to it. It's at the top of our stairs, right between the doors to the master bedroom and my bedroom, and it's one of the first things a person would see when entering the house and looking up. In my mind, we'll eventually add art going over the master bedroom French doors and down the wall on the other side to create something like this, via Pinterest (duh, I'm basic!): 

Cool, huh? Now to plan the next big European adventure! 

Seriously, though, I'm a bit unhealthily obsessed. God save me the day gallery walls go out of style, because I'm doomed to become tragically uncool. 

watch this, and see this.

Friends. I've got your next movie and Netflix binge all figured out for you. You can thank me later ;) 

Wait until you have six uninterrupted hours to go nuts on "Last Chance U," a new documentary series Netflix released at the end of July. I started it on the treadmill on my iPad, but quickly realized that the show actually demanded uninterrupted focus and pounded through it in about two days. 

The series chronicles the adventures (and misadventures) of the East Mississippi Community College "JUCO" football team, which, as of filming, had won four straight junior college national football championships. EMCC serves as a stopping place for students facing disciplinary suspensions from D1 schools, or those with grades too poor to qualify for NCAA play. Under the leadership of coach Buddy Stephens, EMCC's team has become the stuff of legend for putting up massive point margins on their opponents...and for getting their alums into D1 starter positions and, eventually the NFL. 

The series immediately captured me with its stunning camera work - the filming of the football practices and games feels almost cinematic or scripted with the genuine gorgeousness of its shots and pacing, all overlaid with a dramatically varied gospel-and-rap soundtrack. I fell hard, however, once I really got into the stories the show portrayed with such restraint and poignancy...academic counselor Brittany Wagner, for example, who guides her struggling students so passionately through a semester of school and football despite the thanklessness of the task.

Or Ronald Ollie, an EMCC defensive tackle with a traumatic past and fear of rejection. Egotistical quarterback John Franklin III, who dropped out of FSU in a fit of pique after not enough playing time and battled patient workhorse and local boy Wyatt Roberts for the starting QB spot. It's hard not to get emotionally invested in a show that handles so many storylines so well...I dare you not to marathon the last two episodes (I did, as did Hal). Best of all? It's already been renewed for a second season. 

If committing to the six-hour, six-episode series is too much, take in "Don't Think Twice" at your closest indie cinema instead...you won't regret it. Hal and I had a movie night date at the Uptown Lagoon theater last Saturday night - we split a large popcorn and way too much Diet Coke, the whole nine yards, total roommate adorableness. Though he had wanted to see the movie, it took us both by surprise with how sheerly delightful it was. 

A riff on Second City and Saturday Night Live, "Don't Think Twice" follows six improv actors trying to make it in New York City. Their nightly standup act, "The Commune," has launched the careers of numerous stars on "Weekend Live," the SNL parallel. When "Weekend Live" producers come calling, their change to make their break arrives and watching them simultaneously unravel and turn on each other becomes the heart of a comedic drama that left me both laughing and holding my breath. 

The cast is fantastic - starring Mike Birbiglia and Keegan-Michael Key of Key and Peele, among others, their collective comedic chops continuously brought laughs. The script, however, which was written in part by Ira Glass, contains moments of shocking pathos and heartbreak. It doesn't feel overwrought or too try-hard, but at the same time the actors deliver such tight, focused performances that what's meant to hit home, does...and then some. 

One line in particular punched both Hal and me in the gut: "Your 20s are all about hope. And your 30s are all about how dumb it was to hope." We left the theater in awe and still laughing, but both commented on how that line resonated with us. It...the entire movie, really...became the springboard for a fantastic discussion on our own lives, hopes, and doubts that carried us all the way home and into our living room. 

Between "Disgraced" last Thursday, "Last Chance U," and "Don't Think Twice," Hal and I have had more than a few of those great, deep conversations lately. The more I think about it, the more I like to think that there's a difference between watching and seeing. While it's so easy to be all "Netflix and chill" or to passively observe something, it's an entirely different experience to let a show, play, or movie get in under the skin a little bit...or a lot. It's even more different to share those watching experiences with someone who's also really willing to engage with the subject matter and actually dig into it together afterward. I'm getting so much out of what I'm watching, and taking the time to really see and think about all of it has been rewarding and galvanizing and inspiring. 

A summer of Twin Cities performances.

At this point, I've pretty much achieved "professional audience member" status. And I have zero shame about that fact. This summer has held a true embarrassment of riches when it comes to performance arts...opera! Orchestra! Experimental theater! Concerts! You name it, I've been there, and probably loved it. 

After a hiatus during our European trip (omg, recaps coming up at some point...eek!), I kicked off the summer arts calendar with the Minnesota Orchestra Diamond Anniversary Symphony Ball. As covered here, the night was a complete delight...no better way to spend an evening than all dressed up, drinking champagne, and listening to "Rhapsody in Blue." 

Later that week, Jodester called me in as a reserve date to "Bridges of Madison County" at the Orpheum! I had never read the book or seen the movie, and didn't know the plot beyond the fact that it had to do with those famous covered bridges in Iowa...then I found out that Jason Robert Brown, genius behind "The Last Five Years" and "Songs for a New World," wrote the music. I summarily died and went to heaven, and knew that whatever else the show held, it would have amazing music. And I was right. Take a listen below: 

Delightful, right? While I thought the book was a little weak and the show got a bit long, the music was just as delightful as all my favorite JRB standards. I looped the soundtrack on repeat for most of the rest of the month, with no shame. 

One of my favorite annual events in the Twin Cities is the Minnesota Orchestra's "Symphony for the Cities" concert series in area parks. We went to the fabulous Harriet Bandshell to watch associate conductor Roderick Cox lead the orchestra through everything from Star Wars to Wagner, ET to "1812." And, nerd that I am, I was DEAD set on making sure we had a front-row seat. 

Worth it, when you're up against crowds like this. It never fails to make me incredibly happy to see such a diverse crowd of people attend the shows...anything that exposes a person to classical music, whether they're die-hard groupies like me or the concert is their first and only experience, is worth it in my eyes. 

Doesn't hurt that the night (and our view, and the performance!) was perfect, either. I cried through the Armed Forces tribute...I always do...and played the piccolo part for "Stars and Stripes Forever" in my palm right along with Roma Duncan. SO in love with this amazing orchestra. The Twin Cities are lucky to have them! 

The unequivocal highlight of my summer this year was Adele. I have so much to say on that subject, in fact, that she merits her own post. Stay tuned, campers. She's unbelievable live. 

Mid-July found the Jodester and I back at Orchestra Hall for Sömmerfest! The Orchestra's annual summer concert series, an unbelievable feat of over a dozen performances in two weeks, never ceases to totally blow my mind. Under the directorship and coordination of Andrew Litton, now in his 13th year of Sömmerfest, the programming has grown increasingly ambitious and continues to draw true stars to perform.

The Brahms Double Concerto this year featured the unbelievable duo of Nicola Benedetti on violin and her boyfriend, cellist Leonard Elschenbroich. The Double Concerto's first movement quickly became my most-played Spotify track of the month...sweeping, lush interplay between the cello and violin, and a stunning crescendo in intensity to the gorgeous conclusion. It was the "1812 Overture," however, that brought me to tears.

The attacks in Nice had taken place that night, and listening to the slow lyricism and searing drama of the Overture in the face of that news gave me goosebumps. It felt, to me, like the entire orchestra played with a little bit of extra fuck-you passion...like each and every one of them somehow had something to prove. Maybe that music, like the human spirit, transcends everything...I don't entirely know, but it was amazing. 

My first Guthrie trip of the summer was with this fabulous crew, for Open Call night at "South Pacific!" We all received fabulous neon orange leis in keeping with the evening's theme...which the Guthrie went all out supporting! We were treated to signature tiki drinks, Polynesian munchies and a killer hibiscus rum punch after the show, and even the weather cooperated...it was a stupidly humid 95 degrees the night of the show! The musical itself was expertly cast, with standout performances across the board, and as usual, the set design was exquisite. The show is still on through this weekend - if you have nothing to do in the Twin Cities, do yourself a favor and get there! 

Just two days later, Michael popped back down to the Cities for the Sömmerfest closer...Verdi's opera "Otello" in concert! Our seats were clearly terrible...

...and we clearly hated the entire production. KIDDING. Sitting front/second row for an opera is now my favorite thing to do (especially after "Tosca" in March), and the concert format offered a new perspective on the fantastic soloists, particularly Iago (played by Stephen Powell, our Scarpia from "Tosca!"). Add in the mass of the Minnesota Orchestra, the Minnesota Chorale, AND the Minnesota Boy Choir, and with nearly 300 people on stage it was utterly overwhelming...in the best way.

I broke out of my usual Guthrie-and-orchestra rotation for a quick trip to the Dakota in August for Marc Broussard with the fam. We've been obsessed with him since his first couple albums, over a decade ago, but this performance was unique in that he and his dad performed as a duo! Hearing him talk about how his love for and taste in music was deeply influenced by his father added an entirely new nuance to the show. With old favorites like "Home," "The Wanderer," and "Lonely Night in Georgia," along with covers of everything from "Change the World" to "The House at Pooh Corner," I died and went to proverbial heaven about six times over the course of the night. 

Just a couple weeks ago, AJ and I headed to a night of the Minneapolis Fringe Festival! Staged for two weeks annually, Fringe focuses on amateur theater, dance and performing arts, and you never really know what you're going to get in each 60-minute block. We tried to go to one show, but it was sold out, so we ended up at "The History of B-List Movie Actors" for our first option, and a ballet about "the natal passion" and passage of time and maturity for our second. Both were incredibly different from anything I've ever seen, and that's what's so crazy and fun about Fringe. 

The hands-down most powerful piece of theater I've seen this summer, however, and likely this year, is the Guthrie's production of Ayad Akhtar's "Disgraced." Hal, AJ and I rushed tickets last Thursday, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still finding myself wrestling with it even today. The play is the most-produced work of the 2015-2016 theater season nationally, and with good reason...it's a completely incendiary, jarring, visceral piece of theater that left me so tense I had sweat running down my back by the end of the show. The show confronts and challenges what feels like everything: racism, sexism, nature versus nurture, religion, politics, terrorism and fanaticism, cultural appropriation and denial. At a brief 90 minutes, there's not a wasted line of dialogue or gesture in the entire work, and it continually ratchets up to new levels of complete shock, no-holds barred outrage, and life-shattering action and assumption. Friends, if you see one piece of theater ever in your year, make it "Disgraced." I can't say it vehemently enough - this was true world-class theater, and it is exactly the kind of work that needs to be seen. It runs through this weekend at the Guthrie, and rush tickets are only $25...do yourself a favor and go!!! 

PHEW I'M EXHAUSTED even just re-living this summer's shows. Let's be friends and go find an audience to be a part of soon, k? I've got over 30 performances coming up in the next calendar year, with more to be added, undoubtedly! Here's to being the world's most insane arts geek! 

Quick Fact Sunday: Volume 7

My biggest phobia is the sensation of falling. 

I'm not afraid of heights per se - I'm fine with flying, I love overlooks and the top floor of skyscrapers and the kind of views you can only get from on high. That said, I am an utter and complete chicken-shit when that view/height/whatever isn't protected and enclosed somehow by a fence or guard rail or, ideally, a wall with a window. 

Examples: 

Referenced here, going in the lighting rigs of the Chicago Lyric Opera. 

Putting a brave face on it at the Cliffs of Moher. I say no thank you to the idea of plunging 700 feet from a muddy path into an ocean of certain death, thanks. 

Also, Grand Canyon. David's ability to just sit and hang over the edge? Not for me, not at all. 

This was the closest I got to the edge...and you can honestly see the terror in my rictus grin and clenchy fingers. 

The worst for me is when I have the kind of dream, or in-between sleeping and wakefulness moment, when I actually feel the sensation of falling without ever moving. The sick swoop of my stomach, the moment of impact seconds away, and jerking awake with a flood of adrenaline to every nerve...I inevitably never really get back to sleep after that. 

I can handle spiders, can deal with the dark, but falling in general...not so much. Make of that what you will...maybe I'm a control freak? Maybe I can't let myself just go? Who knows...per Freud, these dreams can symbolize anything from "a traumatic experience in childhood" to "a fear of the loss of self-control" or "a decline of the accepted moral standard." 

At any rate, don't ask me to go skydiving, and if you're headed to Splash Mountain, I'll happily take pictures from the sidelines.