Tag Archives: Court Square Theater

that’s why it’s called ROCKtown: MaCRoCk 2012.

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When I handed Brandy the press pass, she actually squealed. And the night only got better from there. Well, except that she kept flashing that thing like she was the fire marshall or something. As if people don’t already get out of her way when they see her coming with that monstrous camera.

It’s been at least ten years since I’ve attended MACRoCk, definitely before my kids were born, and it’s even awesome-er now than back when I didn’t tire out so quickly. Brandy and I went on the first night (Friday, April 6) because it was also First Friday downtown (post forthcoming!) and there were so many cool things to do. How do two girls on one night cover an event that spans thirty-one hours and showcases more than eighty bands? We really can’t. Child protective services would be at my door (JUST KIDDING.), Brandy’s camera would explode, and my notebook just isn’t that big. Sorry. But we can do the best we can and have fun. With so so many bands participating and no clones of ourselves, we had to be focused and disciplined. We wanted to see a couple of local bands, for sure, so we let that goal carve a path for us that evening.

First up, Elephant Child at Downtown 34. This local three-piece suit features John Hostetter (guitar and vocals), Aaron Propst (bass), and Scott Whitten (drums). The crowd grew as the performance continued, and soon the place was full of fans all nodding their heads to the music. Which of course is a sign of approval, but it might also have been involuntary because those three guys were so chest-thumping loud, the whole place was vibrating.

Sidebar: I love music, I love live music, and I love loud music, but I’ve noticed that spectators do strange things at shows. Like clapping. From a very young age we are taught to bang our hands together. Why do we clap? When and where did this start? I mean, who was the very first clapper, and how did clapping evolve into the custom it is today? Don’t get me wrong… I clap, too. Enthusiastically. But I find it strange. And sometimes I watch myself clapping and think, “How odd of me to do this.”

Okay. “Beehive” was a great number… “We drove out to the canyon and we lost our minds…” Heads nodding, hands clapping… we wish we’d gotten more than forty minutes of them.

It was dinner time, so we grabbed some food. It didn’t take as long as we thought, so we had time to meander from the path and go to Court Square Theater for a couple of shows. Once there, Brandy’s press pass suddenly acquired magical powers, because I looked up and she was just gone. I think she teleported in there or something. Anyway, the band that was playing–The La De Les, from Ohio–had already started, and I entered the theater just as they finished a number. Now, I embarrassed Brandy when I said loudly, “BRANDY SOMERS,” but I was not going to scan all those hundreds of people, looking for the back of her head. And where was she? Front row. Yep–press pass. Once I was finally settled in, we really liked the performance. Again it was just three people–Jocelyn, Aaron, and Cody–and they sort of all played everything.

Jocelyn sang and played keyboards; Aaron played a bass, a drum, and his Mac, all in bare feet… he even recorded a drum track as he played; and Cody sang and played guitar. Their sound was like, according to the MaCRoCk program, “golden beams of light shining through huge white fluffy clouds.” I’d say that sounds about right. I love all the technology they used and how they played with sound. Lots of layering of sounds that distilled into this ethereal, melodic effect.

We stayed put for the next band–Timbre out of Nashville. As soon as I saw the harp, I knew two things: I’d love this band, and I’d cry at some point. Timbre, the female harpist, wore a gown and a long braid and reminded me vocally of Leslie Feist plus Joni Mitchell (my all-time fave, by the way). Her frighteningly massive range revealed a pure and unfaltering voice. There was also a cellist and a percussionist, and I was absolutely glued to their performance.

There was no head-nodding, no clapping… not a sound anywhere but on stage. I think we all stopped breathing. They closed with a gauzy, goose-bump inducing cover of Radiohead’s “Like Spinning Plates.” After their set, Brandy and I sat there stunned, then looked at each other and said, “Damn. That was good.”

It was time to head to Clementine to catch Invisible Hand from Charlottesville. The place was PACKED and just kept getting packed-er.

It was 10pm. We’d started our adventure at 6:30, and the evening itself was shaped like a piece of music–an energetic, yet low-key beginning, followed by an emotional bridge, and now crescendoing into a beautiful crowd of happy people all smushed together to see this four-piece blow the roof off.

Brandy flashed the pass and wiggled her way to the front. And anywhere else she wanted, for that matter. They had two drummers–one standing and one seated–two guitars, and a bass. Loud and fun and quirky and dedicated, they were very much loved by the crowd.

At this point, I must admit, I was TIRED. Happy, but tired. And though I wanted to see Valkyrie at the Nile, I didn’t. Brandy, however, was NOT out of energy,  and she went. Infused with the power of the mighty press pass, she found the endurance needed to see MaCRoCk Night 1 through to the end. She said Valkyrie was awesome, so awesome that “everyone went crazy and I feared for the safety of… my camera.” No worries–she got some shots of them and got out with no scratches or cracks.

I was unable to go again on Saturday, but Brandy did–and you can see photos of The Cinnamon Band, Bison, Bib-bi, The Turlocks, Psychic Teens, and The Beets at her photography page here. Wowee–that woman is busy!!

MaCRoCk staff and participants, thank you for a crazy night of talent. Ya blew our minds.

citizens’ upRISEing no. 10: RISE.

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When I saw the Slinkies outside the door, I was instantly reminded of that Jim Carrey movie Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls and the scene where he lets the slinky travel down all those stairs, yelling “It’s gotta be some kind of record!” and singing the Slinky theme song. If you remember, the Slinky stops just before the last step. Ace throws his hands in the air and shouts, “Oh, man! Can you believe it?! It was RIGHT THERE!” Ugh… all that excitement and anticipation and then… a last minute fail. Little did I know how relevant that movie scene would be to the sermon that day at RISE.

RISE is a Methodist church housed in the Court Square Theater. What a super venue: comfy seats, great acoustics, all sorts of audio/visual capabilities, and CONCESSIONS. (!) If you haven’t been, here’s a glimpse of what to expect.

When we attended one Sunday last month, we were met with a large, friendly crowd. Worshipers of all ages, infant to elderly, mingled in the lobby like long-time friends; people casually chatted while sipping coffee and nibbling muffins… it smacked of a family reunion. Yet another thing I love about this town.
Upon entering the theater with a shameful amount of goodies clutched in my arms, we heard Brent Levy and a six-piece band warming up the crowd with music lively enough to raise the dead (uh-oh, I feel a whole bunch of church jokes coming on. I apologize.). They have their own arsenal of songs, but they also play popular favorites from bands like the Avett Brothers, U2, Journey, and even The Muppets. And above the stage hung several large signs that said things like, “You can do it!” and “Yep… even THAT guy” and “It’s all good.” Wow–signs from God, right here this whole time. (Yuk, yuk, there I go again. Sorry. Okay, no more.) The signs were all part of a continuing series called “That’s What God Said.”
Pastor Amanda is absolutely darling–a powerhouse of heart and spirit with a cute haircut and a humble yet captivating demeanor. I loved watching her retell well-known Biblical stories (David and Goliath, for example) with a new energy, peppered with funny and touching anecdotes from her own life.

The first thing she said to the congregation was, “You are a gift.” Well, I almost started crying right there. Instead I inserted another muffin and got a grip. The message of her sermon was that God gravitates toward ordinary people and says over and over, “You can do it!” She pointed out several instances in the Bible where this occurs. Sometimes people think God has forgotten them because they’re “small, ordinary” people. They forget they deserve grace just as much as anyone. And she asked this question: “Why do we expect ‘wow’ to be something we can’t reach?” God thinks we’re ‘wow’ just how we are. Perhaps we could try looking through a similar lens. She demonstrated this idea with a story about her Senior Prom. The theme was Carousel of Dreams, and it might have been the ugliest prom in history. It was one event in her life that had a great deal of build up, then turned out to be ordinary, followed by a nasty bout of disappointment. But, there’s beauty in ordinary, too. Sometimes we’re Slinkies that don’t make it all the way down the stairs.

Then I spaced out for a bit while I remembered my own prom. I realized I don’t remember much of it. I don’t remember a theme. Here’s what I do remember:
1. Instead of going out to eat, my parents cooked us dinner at my house and served it to us in courses. While wearing aprons. CUTE.
2. The DJ played the senior class song, “I’m Goin’ Straight to Hell” by Drivin’ and Cryin’.
3. My date and I didn’t stay long. (Sorry, Mom.)
Here are some things Amanda said that stayed with me:
~”When we say we’re not enough, we’re also saying God is not enough.” Think about that one.

~ “Life is messy. Stop saying you’re sorry for being human.”

~ “We focus on who we’re not”–because we live in a society that commodifies and measures everything, imho.

At one point Amanda projected a picture of Jesus and laughingly called Him the Swedish Jesus with Highlights. I audibly guffawed at that remark–I mean, we’ve all seen that portrait of Jesus, right? And it reminded me of a time when my daughter was three and she saw a similar picture and asked me, “Mom, was Jesus a surfer?” Because of His hair, not the whole walk-on-water thing. So thank you, Amanda, for reminding us that Jesus was not from Scandinavia. Or California.

You can attend RISE every Sunday at exactly 10-ish at the Court Square Theater. You can get a free cup, tee shirt, and yes–a Slinky. Receive love, give love, repeat.