December 29 Metro Arts

This program is intended for a print-impaired audience and is brought to you by the Georgia Radio Reading Service. For Friday, December 29, 2023, I am Kristen Moody for the Georgia Radio Reading Service. Metro Arts is brought to you by the Fulton County Board of Commissioners. For our first article, we go to the Atlanta Magazine publication online, For Things We Like, Colette Bread and Bake Shop, Expect Cinnamon Rolls, Sweet and Savory Turnovers and Tarts, Bagels, Focaccia, Nutella Buns, and Brioche at Sarah Dodge's Bakery by Carly Cooper. If you're driving around Ponce Highland early on a Saturday morning, you're likely to spot a line of people outside a historic row of buildings not far from Fishmonger and East Pole Coffee Company. Come closer and an invigorating roma wafts into your nostrils. A small sign on the window reads, Colette Bread and Bake Shop. Led by Sarah Dodge, formerly with Eight Arm and owner of pop-up subscription service Bread is Good, Colette opened in late July with limited operating hours. Sarah Dodge tried to launch quietly, but on day one, the line stretched down the block. She had 110 orders in an hour and a half. Lines are very stressful for me. Atlanta has this pop-up culture vibe and it's like, get it while it lasts. That gets hectic for a little bakery, she says. Someone fainted in line the first week. Our stuff is good and we love it, but it's not worth fainting for. She designed Colette to be a welcoming, flexible space. A place you pop in, grab a pastry, eat it fresh, and move on with your day. So it feels like good bread and pastry blended into your daily life, as opposed to making it this big ordeal. As Dodge settled into the neighborhood and expanded Colette's hours, it's now open Thursday through Saturday morning, the lines died down, but did not disappear. Onyx Ramirez lives nearby and visits Colette weekly, if not twice a week. I try to arrive 15 minutes before they open to be the first one. I love their breads and usually get an assortment of pastries to share, she says. Dodge and her team have been working to stagger offerings so they can keep fresh items coming whenever the store is open. Depending on the time of day, you can expect a selection of cinnamon rolls, sweet and savory turnovers and tarts, bagels, focaccia, Nutella buns, and brioche. Coffee vendors, including Harbor Coffee, often set up shop inside on the weekends. Dodge recently added ready-made lunch options. She has plans to open on Sundays, host mini markets with other vendors on Tuesday evenings, and teach baking classes. My favorite way to reach people is through teaching, she says. That was Things We Like, Colette Bread and Bakeshop by Carly Cooper. Next up, Emory ethnobotanist Cassandra Coivet travels the globe searching for plants with the power to heal. The Emory professor researches plants that have been used by traditional healers and are known to have therapeutic properties by Michelle Cohen Merrill. The timer starts. Cassandra Coivet has exactly two minutes and one PowerPoint slide to explain her work as a medical ethnobotanist at Emory University, a feat that took 12 hours to accomplish in the audio version of her memoir, The Plant Hunter. It's a Thursday before Labor Day, the evening launch of the joyful controlled chaos of Dragon Con 2023. Science track devotees fill the seats of a small conference room in the Hyatt Regency. This track puts the science in sci-fi. Cosplayers are scattered throughout the audience wearing capes, hats, and gowns. One woman is clad in the very realistic garb of Freeman from the desert planet in Dune. Coivet begins her lightning talk at a fast clip. As both a professor and a podcast host, she knows how to squeeze information into short time slots. So in my lab, we look for new molecules from nature. We are drug hunters. Plant hunters has a better ring to it. But really, we're looking for new medicines, Coivet says. She recounts how she trekked in the Balkans, southern Italy, the Sahara, and the Amazon, collecting wild plants and turning their leaves and roots into extracts, kind of like how you make your coffee every morning. To up the drama, she mentions that she nicknamed her lab freezer a tropos, after the Greek fate that cuts the thread of life, because I have thousands of things in there that will absolutely kill you. Coivet, 45 associate professor of dermatology at Emory University School of Medicine, researches plants that have been used by traditional healers and are known to have therapeutic properties. More than 34,000 medicinal plants have been used throughout history, and each contains thousands of different molecules. Her lab works to identify which molecules or combinations of molecules provide the benefit. Also, plants aren't just tools for healing. Coivet targets their potency and preventing infections by targeting the bacteria, viruses, and fungi that have plagued humankind for millennia and are becoming resistant to modern drug therapies. It's a daunting task, but Coivet and her team have made impressive finds. They've identified extracts from tall goldenrod and eagle fern that block the infectivity of SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID. They found compounds from the Brazilian pepper tree, the American beautyberry, and the European chestnut that inhibit the spread of drug-resistant bacteria. Working in collaboration with a lab at the University of Toronto, Coivet recently reported antifungal activity of Brazilian pepper tree compounds against the multi-drug-resistant Candida genus, the most common culprit in human fungal infections. She co-founded two biotech startups, Phytotech and Verdant Scientific, to develop antibacterial products from her discovery. Coivet is aware that most people think of plants as the source of a different sort of drug, cannabis, hallucinogenic mushrooms, or opium poppies, to name a few. Meanwhile, scientists often discount healing techniques of indigenous peoples or the potential for plant-based medical breakthroughs, even though they are the origin of many common medicines. For example, willow bark was used as a pain remedy by ancient Egyptians. Salicin, its active ingredient, is the foundation for acetyl-acid, commonly known as aspirin. Coivet began educating the public about her field in 2011 with lectures and videos on a YouTube channel called Teach Ethnobotany, and in 2019, she launched a podcast on the cultural and scientific value of plants called Foodie Pharmacology. She also posts a biweekly newsletter on Substack called Nature's Pharmacy, which she describes the science behind medicinal plants. When Coivet hit and she heard that some people were promoting oleandrine and cinchon bark as treatments, which can actually be toxic, she saw a greater need to lend her expertise through articles and media interviews. In 2022, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine recognized her work with an Eric and Wendy Schmidt Award for Excellence in Science Communication. Coivet has advocated for more federal funding to combat antimicrobial resistance, which the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention calls an urgent global public health threat. It's a mission that doesn't get enough public attention, says Wes Kim, Director of Global Public Health Programs for the American Society for Microbiology. She's doing double duty in terms of being a scientist and bringing awareness, he says. As a professor, she's training the next generation of drug discoverers. Her passion for plants extends beyond the lab in the field. For Coivet, this issue is deeply personal. She was born with abnormalities in her lower right leg. In hopes of providing better mobility, doctors amputated her leg below the knee when she turned three. But a staphylococcus aureolus infection took hold after the surgery. Quick action, antibiotics, and another surgery to cut away damaged tissue saved her life. Since then, S. aureus strains have emerged worldwide that are resistant to almost all antibiotics. Coivet has endured many other surgeries and infections and learned to live with pain, but her disability hasn't hindered her. She grew up playing in the piney woods of Arcadia, Florida, and she became intrigued with plant-based remedies during a college summer at an Amazonian research camp in Peru, where she worked under the tutelage of a traditional healer. Prosthetics enable her to trek up mountain trails and through swamps, often with students in tow. She tends a lush garden at her home in Decatur, where she lives with her husband and their four tween and teenage children. She grows medicinal specimens along with vegetables, berries, herbs, and wildflowers. She also curates the Emory University Herbarium, a collection of about 24,000 preserved plant specimens from Georgia and around the world, and teaches in Emory's Center for the Study of Human Health. Coivet was preparing for a book tour in 2021 when she found a way to turn her prosthetic into another educational tool through customized covers with diagrams of chestnut leaves, St. John's Wort, and Ohe Fig, and their healing molecules. Now when she speaks, she often invites people to stare at her leg. It's like a tattoo, she says at the close of her Dragon Con talk. So I'm not going to take it off. I'd fall over. I have the chemical structures of the plants we've studied, so take a gander if you're interested. Those who approach learn just a little bit more about why the next great medical advances might come from nature. That was Emory ethnobotanist Cassandra Coivet Travels the Globe Searching for Plants with the Power to Heal by Michelle Cohen Merrill. Next, How the Atlanta Ballet is Working to Become More Diverse, a conversation with Executive Director Tom West by Cynthia Bond Perry. Seven months into his tenure as Executive Director of Atlanta Ballet, Tom West saw a line item on the pay scale that didn't seem right. Dancers entering the company under its apprentice program were paid less than $500 a week. Company leaders noted that apprenticeships are standard practice in the field, but the low-paying program was one of several barriers faced by young dancers from historically underrepresented communities, the very dancers Atlanta Ballet has struggled to attract. Atlanta's population is close to 50% Black, and until recently, Atlanta Ballet's roster had only a token few Black artists. Since 2018, Gennady Nedgevin, Artistic Director of Atlanta Ballet, and Sharon Story, Dean of the Atlanta Ballet Center for Education, have searched for dancers of color, hosting auditions and traveling to competitions worldwide. At home, Story billed Decade to Dance, an enhanced scholarship program for students from historically underrepresented communities. But the program's top graduates often chose college over ballet careers, which promised little financial security. Last season, Atlanta Ballet eliminated its apprentice level, so all first-year company members would earn a living wage. The move, which has started national conversations, made Atlanta Ballet a more attractive option to talented young dancers by showing that ballet could be a viable profession. The company began to appear more inclusive in September when eight Black-identifying dancers appeared in La Sophie. And now, Atlanta Ballet's main company has three Black artists, and Atlanta Ballet, too, a training company at the school's top level, has six, one-third of its dancers. They'll appear in productions throughout this season, including The Nutcracker, Coco Chanel, The Life of a Fashion Icon, Cinderella, and in May, Liquid Motion, which features world premieres by Juliano Nunez and Claudia Schreier. West, the company's executive director since 2021, is a former actor and top-level arts administrator. Most recently, he served as chief advancement officer for the American Film Institute in Los Angeles, where he successfully connected underrepresented storytellers in the film industry with jobs in major motion picture studios. He talked with Atlanta about the challenges of making a Eurocentric art form reflect a The pandemic and two years of Nutcracker losses, a budget shortfall of almost $1 million in 2021 and $900,000 in 2022, following a move from the Fox Theater to the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center, has struck a major blow to the organization's financial resources. Atlanta Ballet's current budget is estimated to be $1.5 billion, which is a significant increase from last year's budget. has struck a major blow to the organization's financial resources. Atlanta's Black communities have called out Atlanta Ballet's scant representation of Black dancers on stage. Amid these challenges, what have been your first steps towards increasing diversity? The first thing was to learn what was important and listen to the staff, to the team, to the community, and then figure out what making an impact meant. It typically takes about 10 years for a young woman to become a ballerina. If the mandate were, can you make the company X percent Black in three seasons? The answer is probably that it's not possible. If you go out to competitions and auditions, there are not enough Black dancers to meet the demands of every company in the country. We are competing against companies that are larger and more resourced than we are. So when we make a financial offer, it is up against these larger companies. Rarely do we win. So the focus then was very much on training the next generation. You formed a task force for building Atlanta Ballet's academy into a destination for Black and Brown dancers training for professional ballet careers. You've consulted with community leaders and teachers from internationally regarded dance institutions. How have their perspectives challenged your assumptions? A colleague at the school of a prominent dance company got us all thinking that you can address finances, housing, transportation, and culture, but you really have to get to relevance for a young person's life and for their family and friends and peers. So how does pursuing a career as a ballet dancer become cool? This is a huge challenge and something we're working on. If any one of us solves it, we will change the dance landscape. How do you create a broader belief that ballet is for a diverse audience? We're approaching it in a couple of different ways. One of the ways is who they see on stage. Two is what they see on stage. There are two Black choreographers on the program this season, both with world premieres. One by Claudia Schreier is focused on jazz. So it's not about changing the art form. It's about expressing it through different creators. One of the big conversations about representation in film was not just about what was on the screen, but who gets to tell the story and what stories get told. Yennedy has been very purposeful about seeking out choreographers of color with different perspectives. It's who's creating. It's what they're creating. And then in the case of jazz, it's finding another entry point into the art form. What financial challenges do you face here? Atlanta is a little different from other markets that I've worked in. With the exception of our friends at the Woodruff Arts Center, the arts are not invited to the table. If you look at the Rotary, Leadership Atlanta, the Chamber of Commerce, which has no programs that are related directly to the arts, those are places that we have to tackle first. When you can create a sense of inclusion in the arts, you are also creating a sense of inclusion in the civic life of a city. I think that the support level for the Woodruff is appropriate. However, other arts organizations in this region are deeply undercapitalized, including many led by Black and Brown leaders. You're going to start to see arts organizations come together to try and help raise the tide for the entire arts community. That was How the Atlanta Ballet is Working to Become More Diverse by Cynthia Bond Perry. Next, we move to the Burnway publication for Tyler Mitchell, Domestic Imaginaries at the SCAD Museum of Art, Savannah, by Daniel Fuller. Memories of home forge deep emotional connections to one's roots. Just as a physical landscape is characterized by its features and terrain, an emotional landscape is marked by its highs and lows, joys and sorrows, loves and heartbreaks. There is no formal entrance exit into Tyler Mitchell's exhibition, Domestic Imaginaries at the SCAD Museum of Art. The gallery is one of the museum's most unique spaces. It is narrow and nearly 300 feet long. One side preserves the historical essence of the 1853 building with its gray brick archways, while the other side has floor to ceiling windows, allowing the low sun to cast long, dramatic shadows over everything. With the absence of a predetermined path, visitors are emboldened to navigate the show freely and disregard the typical demands of a linear layout. The gallery's distinctive design allowed Mitchell to install a meandering rope laundry line that traversed the space, cutting across it in a zigzagging pattern. The photographs are dye sublimation prints on sheer fabrics, such as silk, jersey, linen, or cotton, secured by wooden clothespins. They float above me, gently redirecting my path. Deliberate choices were made about how taut the fabrics would hang and how the laundry lines and clothespins mimic the photographs they hold up. Mitchell's narrative unfolds with quiet patience, and I mirror the ease we see in the photos. The gallery is one of the most unique spaces in the museum. And I mirror the ease we see in the photos. It is bittersweet, but I seldom meet his subjects face to face. Instead, I simply get an idea of who they are and a chance to witness their lives in slow motion. Repeatedly, I see hands reaching into a bucket, rinsing and wringing, then hanging the fabric online, not dissimilar to the ones in the gallery. The images are atmospheric, evocative of a pastoral landscape in an endlessly muggy summer, a place characterized by sumptuous breezes, but also subtle reminders of peril, oppression, and injustice. This body of work delves into the impact of the sharecropping past and segregation present as it relates to the land. The work addresses who gets to break the green ceiling and feel a sense of comfort, despite wounds cultivated for over a century. This history is recent, the experiences of our parents and grandparents. Mitchell's relationship with the land emerges from a life deeply rooted in finding leisure and excursions into the natural environment, a recreation opportunity that is still not equal to this day. Dotting the exhibition are several works fabricated from cherry and walnut wood, cabinets, armoires, and bookshelves made to hold memories, each slightly oversized, as though rendered from the vantage point of a small child. The designs have a certain quirkiness, as though the maker took inspiration from the unique character of the wood itself, the inherent grain, color, texture, and let the wood determine the way. My favorite of these works is Altar 6, Urn, a 2023 hexagonal tower that offers fresh perspectives at every turn. Through the glass windows, there are books that address foraging crops, biochemistry, the five scrolls of the Hebrew Bible, fatherhood in Black America, and color scapes, inspiring palettes for the home. Most titles are covered in distinctive blue dust jackets adorned with embossed details. Some teams hold Mitchell's photographs, shadowy figures printed directly onto the opaque glass. Sitting atop a pedestal, I saw what I believed to be a lighthouse, a beacon of light and education, but on further review, I couldn't shake the object's resemblance to Atlanta's Black Marias, the Victorian-era one-person holding cells the police used before they were considered inhumane. Despite the weight and vulnerability of Mitchell's subject matter, the artist handles it in the quietest, most serene way that leaves one feeling for the briefest moments that everything will be okay. This comes from a settled selfhood. Born and raised under Atlanta's trademark tree canopy, the city in the forest was his playground. Even with the figures covered or silhouetted behind the fabric, the images feel almost unbearably personal. In House is Not a Home, 2023, the figure is evasive, shrouded in a luxurious pink silk fabric like that on which his image is printed. Refusing the formality of the image, the artist's image is embedded in the background of the Refusing the formality of its walnut frame, the work becomes a relief as the photographer's fabric lays over, under, and around the border that is tasked to hold together the edges of the picture. He is rightly skeptical of letting us into his world. This show in Savannah is a homecoming of sorts, his first exhibition in the state. While many have failed to accurately portray the harsh brilliance of Georgia's diverse topographies, Mitchell succeeds in bringing tenderness to a site of violence and memory. He succeeds because of his subject's bravery and imagination. The images offer reassurance and consolation. There is a timelessness to these Georgia grasslands. Tyler Mitchell Domestic Imaginaries is on view at the SCAD Museum of Art, Savannah through December 31, 2023. That was Tyler Mitchell Domestic Imaginaries at the SCAD Museum of Art, Savannah by Daniel Fuller. Next, we move to the Arts ATL publication for Atlanta Filmmaking Turns Red Georgia Clay into Winter Wonderland of White by Carol Badaracko Padgett. In the film world, the versatile landscape of the Peach State can serve as anywhere in the country, even when the script calls for a winter wonderland. Thanks to the post-production magic of visual special effects, red clay in our state can be blanketed with expanses of snow, and even snowy mountains are possible for film scripts and scenes that call for them. Atlanta-based location scout Jen Ferris, a 14-year veteran of film and TV, explained the process of visualizing how red can turn into white for a holiday film, as well as what she's looking for if snow is in the script. If a production is going to add visual effects to an actual location, I'm at least sending them into a place with the bones, she said. She noted that Georgia's mountains are ideal for special effect winter snow to fall down upon, and they make a convincing winter vista. I would scout locations such as Stone Mountain or Arabia Mountain, both in DeKalb County, and find a position on the mountain that showcases the best peaks or the best landings for characters to stand on, where the director would do an amazing wide shot of the mountain. Ferris then snaps photos of these areas and presents the best options to the production team to help them achieve the final vision. While she hasn't scouted in all holiday film, she did scout the film Dirty Grandpa, which has winter scenes during the holiday season. My task was to identify every location I was assigned to find that had evergreens on site, she said. No falling leaves in December in Georgia. When asked to consider her all-time favorite holiday film, regardless of location, Ferris doesn't miss a beat. It's a wonderful life. The 1946 classic was shot at RKO Radio Picture Studios in Culver City, California, and on RKO's ranch in Encino, illustrating how winter snow conditions can pop up anywhere in the movies, snowy or not. Local holiday watch list. Here is a list of five recent Georgia films to make your season more festive, some of them covering up the clay with blankets of winter white. Curl up with some popcorn and a Coke and see if you recognize the landscape and watch for that peach logo at the end. Dashing Through the Snow, 2023, Disney, a comedy fantasy starring Ludacris and filmed in Atlanta, streaming on Disney+. Christmas with the Jerks, 2023, Good Deed Entertainment, a comedy romance that is Georgia cast funded and filmed, streaming on Amazon Prime, Apple TV, Google Play, Vudu, and Tubi. Guardians of the Galaxy, holiday special 2022, Marvel Studios special presentation, an action adventure produced at Trillist Studios in Fayetteville, Georgia, streaming on Disney+. The Holiday Dating Guide, 2022, Lifetime Movie Network. This is a comedy drama romance shot in Tifton, Georgia, streaming on Lifetime. Charlie's Christmas Wish, 2020, Bonded LLC and Talking Rock Studios, a drama family film filmed in Cherokee County, Georgia, Canton, Ball Ground, and Ellijay, streaming on Starz. That was Atlanta Filmmaking Turns Red Georgia Clay into Winter Wonderlands of White by Carol Badaraco-Patti. Next up, Atlanta Filmmakers Turn Shoestring Budget into Feel Good Holiday Film by Rachel Garbus. Christmas with Jerks has a holiday film plot, if ever you heard one. Eve Carter, Rihanna Adams, a former child star with a penchant for cocktails, is thrilled to be spending Christmas alone at her sister's house. Imagine her displeasure when the house turns out to be occupied by professional stuntman, Ace Strong, Tyler Buckingham, who is dog sitting while he recovers from a foot injury. Stuck in a stalemate, the hostile parties try their best to kick each other to the curb, unless they fall in love first. As a screenplay idea, enemies turned lovebirds stuck inside a house had all the hallmarks of a cozy holiday movie. But for Adams, who wrote and starred in Christmas with Jerks, it had another enormous appeal. She could film almost all of it in a single location. I mean, I love movies with lots of baby goats, and I love movies with kids, Adams said. But writing it a little smaller just made the whole thing possible. It was late 2022, and the Atlanta writer and actor was feeling discouraged. Adams, who has appeared recently in shows like The Staircase and Shift Drinks, had come close to selling several pilot scripts and features to film studios, but nothing had worked out. I just really wanted to work, she said. I wanted to learn from the process of script to screen. Rather than wait for the next opportunity, Adams decided to create her own. She wrote the script for Christmas with Jerks in a matter of weeks, inspired by her own life experience as an actor struggling with self-doubt and insecurity. I am not a former child star, she said, but I have felt this career desperation and frustration, and I really channeled that into this story. She set the film at her actual sister's house in Avondale Estates, a beautiful, modern home that has served as a location for multiple local productions. I knew I could con her into it, joked Adams. At first, she planned to barrel into the production all on her own. I said, I'll just do it myself. I'll get a computer, and I'll teach myself to edit, she laughed. That was pretty delusional. Instead, Adams turned to her local film community to see if anyone might be willing to help her make her movie. As it turned out, they were more than willing. Christina Aronha, who co-directed and co-produced Christmas with Jerks, originally came on in a crew role. The pair knew each other from Atlanta's indie film scene. In 2014, they won the 48-hour film festival together and have since overlapped on projects around town. In recent years, Aronha has cultivated a successful career in the growing field of intimacy coordination, where a trained professional works closely with actors performing sensual or sexual scenes to protect their safety and comfort. When Adams approached Aronha about joining Jerks as an intimacy coordinator in February 2023, she mentioned she was also looking for a co-director. It turned out to be good timing. Filming was slowing down as studios braced for the imminent writer's strike and Aronha's schedule had cleared up. Suddenly, I had two months that were really empty, Aronha said. So I was like, yeah, let's do this. They assembled a small cast and crew and scheduled shooting for late April to coincide with Adams' eight-year-old son's spring break. I said, I can make films or I can be a mom. I can't do both, Adams recalled. Her son went to his grandparents' house in Colorado and Adams and Aronha shot the film in eight days. Their editor and music composer finished post-production over the summer and by mid-August they had secured a distributor, Good Deeds Entertainment. It was released to streaming in November, barely a year after Adams had finished the script. We didn't sleep much, said Aronha with a laugh. It was a breakneck pace to produce a film, but the filmmakers agree the learning experience was worth it. It can all feel so overwhelming, said Aronha. You know how to make the film, but then how do you sell it and get it into a streaming site? There's no tangible explanation for that. According to a 2021 report by Tag Media and Entertainment, the average budget for a feature film made in Georgia is $41.7 million. Even low-budget features can require deep pockets. For reference, the Screen Actors Guild classifies ultra-low budget as any film that costs under $300,000. Adams and Aronha had less than that, a lot less. What they had instead were friends, family, colleagues, and local business owners, all of whom wanted to see a local indie succeed. We pulled out all the favors, every last one, said Adams. Friends pitched in their services as cast and crew and some novice crew members joined to gain on-the-job experience. A friend from the comedy scene baked an on-screen birthday cake, another did the logo. Equipment companies rented them cameras and mics at a discount and local restaurants like Twain's and Banjo Coffee donated meals for the cast and crew. They even partnered with Topo Chico for branded sponsorship. It was more work logistically than just having one big donor, but it made it more accessible, explained Aronha, especially for our community that wanted to help us but didn't have a ton of money. Relying on the community for in-kind donations allowed precious funds to go towards essentials like professional post-production work and licensing extra music. Christmas with Jerks was released on Apple TV Plus in time for the holiday season and the filmmakers are already planning their next production, a vampire comedy set in a movie theater. It's still shooting in one location, but we'll need a way bigger budget for blood, joked Aronha. With a feature film already under their belts, it's been easier to connect with potential producers in Atlanta and Los Angeles. That's further confirmation for the duo that their DIY approach, despite the hurdles, pays off in the long run. They both feel that Atlanta, with its supportive film community eager to see fellow creatives succeed, is the right place to try new things. In the very beginning, I said, I want to make a movie, but how can I not fail, said Adams, and I realized if the goal is learning, you can't fail. Then you've made something and you're proud of it. That was Atlanta Filmmakers Turn Shoe String Budget into Feel Good Holiday Film by Rachel Garbus. Next up, you've got to see Eight Rising Atlanta Blues Guitarists Making Their Mark by Shannon Marie Tovey. Those who argue that the blues is dying as a musical art form have obviously never visited Atlanta. Not only are we fortunate enough to have a vibrant musical blues scene, but we are home to a bevy of next generation guitarists who have picked up the blues torch and are burning down the proverbial house. Here are eight of the most notable and where to see them perform. The Garrett Collins Project. Collins does just about everything electric blues, all flavored with the funk-tinged sound of people like Johnny Lang and the southern rock influence of the Allman Brothers Band. Collins performs every Thursday at the Northside Tavern. John Tavius Willis. The Grammy Award nominee and Georgia native counts Taj Mahal and Kibmo as mentors, and he won the International Blues Challenge Award for Best Self-Produced CD. Willis's original work skews toward acoustic delta and other traditional blues forms. Whether streaming his albums or watching a live performance, the listener will experience a journey through time that is both reverent to his predecessors and quintessentially Willis. The young guitarist performs regularly in Atlanta and is currently on an international tour. Hughes-Taylor Band. Local favorite Hughes-Taylor is a guitar impresario, whether he's riffing behind his head, T-Bone Walker style, or shredding up Hendrix tunes. Taylor and his band showcase an impressive lineup of covers heavy on the Texas blues and laced with originals that range in style from Billy Gibbons' Crunchy to the sweetness of Etta James. His latest album, Modern Nostalgia, charted on the U.S. blues rock top 50 for over a year, evidencing his versatility and combined rock and blues influences. Taylor is often seen at Blind Willie's and has three upcoming Atlanta area shows, December 17th at the Yonah Mountain Vineyards in Cleveland, December 23rd at Shenanigans in Dahlonega, and December 31st at The Canopy and the Roots in Dahlonega. Cannonball Red and the Headhunters. The epitome of cool, Cannonball Red and his band of Headhunters are equally adept at meandering through the country blues and firing it up Chicago style. Red's gospel background and vocal texture blast the soul factor of both. Check out Cannonball Red at the Cajun Blues on December 15th or December 27th at Blind Willie's. Tyler Neal. The subject of a recent in-depth article in ArtsATL, Neal traces his musical roots to Atlanta icons Colonel Bruce Hampton and Yonrico Scott. His high energy sets are rooted in the sounds of R&B in its heyday, sprinkled liberally with southern rock and embellished with the gospel sounds of his childhood. Tyler Neal performs Wednesdays at the Northside Tavern. Skylar Softly and the 99th Degree. With his 1950s appearance and soft southern drawl, Softly almost seems born to play the Chicago blues with crooner-like vocals and boogie-woogie rhythms. Along with enjoying the talents of his regular band members, you may be lucky enough to catch an occasional guest appearance by his brother from another mamba, Jackson Allen on Harp. Softly performs December 30th at Blind Willie's. Cody Matlock Band. Matlock may be more R&B than straight-up blues, but his funky guitar playing, falsetto vocals, and occasionally off-the-cuff scatting have earned him the most frequent mention as one to watch among the area's more seasoned blues musicians. Matlock performs December 31st at Blind Willie's. Eddie Ninevolt. Despite having one foot firmly planted in rock and roll territory, Eddie Ninevolt has been deemed the brightest star on Atlanta's blues horizon by renowned blues guitarist Tinsley Ellis. Ninevolt engages the crowd with his charismatic physicality of James Brown, and his band provides a sound that is as compelling as he is. Eddie Ninevolt performs January 20th at Terminal West. That was You've Got to See Eight Rising Atlanta Blues Guitarists Making Their Mark by Shannon Marie Tovey. Next up, Q&A. Stars of Invasion and Yallmark Infuse Holiday Improv with Humor, Heart by Benjamin Carr. The best holidays include surprises. Unexpected twists in your yuletide routine can add an enchanting moment to same old celebrations. On stage at two Atlanta theaters, holiday improv shows have placed a wacky spin upon standard seasonal entertainment. Running at Dad's Garage Theater through December 30th, Invasion Christmas Carol takes the standard Scrooge script and adds a different surprise guest character every time, such as football pro Travis Kelce or the Spice Girls, unknown to the improvisers in the mix until it unravels the traditional tale on stage. This year's Ebenezer is played by performer Avery Sharp. Also until December 30th, Horizon Theater is hosting the return of Yallmark Christmas, an improvised holiday movie co-production with Dad's Garage. In Yallmark, director and storyteller Topher Payne, writer of actual Hallmark films like Broadcasting Christmas and A Gift to Remember, attempts to create a two-act play on stage with cable channel romance flavor using a team of improvisers and a special guest performer. In both shows, plenty of zaniness ensues. Sharp and Payne recently sat down for a roundtable discussion with Arts ATL to explore why improv works so well with standard holiday fare. Arts ATL, do you two know each other? Topher Payne, we've met but we haven't had a chance to take a vacation together, hopefully soon. Avery Sharp, yeah absolutely that would be great. Arts ATL, how are you aware of each other? Sharp, because we run in the same circles and of course Topher Payne is the man, you know his name, but we have never gotten to work together like that because we're always doing something. Payne, which we can only safely assume means that people are trying to keep us apart. They're literally keeping us busy at separate theaters. Arts ATL, Avery, though this is your first time playing Scrooge, you appeared in Invasion for the past two years playing Bob Cratchit and Jacob Marley. How did they go about transforming someone as youthful and handsome as you into someone as ornery and mean as Ebenezer Scrooge? Sharp, well lots of makeup which is actually very fun for me. I don't usually wear makeup in the productions I tend to do, so this has been very cool just to be old and crotchety looking. But the mean and ornery personality is actually deep within me. I just try to slay that monster every day. Arts ATL, why does improv work so well for holiday shows? Sharp, improv keeps everything fresh. A lot of times during the holidays we find ourselves doing the same traditions and rituals because that's just what we do and I think improv is so present. Everything is so in the moment. It really revitalizes the magic we tend to experience in the season. I think in a lot of ways everything has become this pageantry without joy where we go everything's happy, everything's great, my life's falling apart, but tis the season. Improv by its nature is actually magic. So when you infuse that into heartwarming, heartfelt, true and great storytelling, it naturally goes hand in hand. Pain. One of the things at Yallmark we tell the guest stars every night when they come in is, please do not leave the stage. Because the audience is getting to see you have the idea, where your moment of discovery is in full view. And then you're scrambling for a costume change and a prop, whatever necessary to fulfill the inspiration. It's part of the joy of the experience. They anticipate a level of polish, but the level of polish is in the approach, not the execution. They want to know that you're not being half-assed about it. And once they have confidence in the storytellers, the messiness of the storytelling is part of the joy of the experience. Arts ATL. One surprise character at Invasion this year was the unsinkable Molly Brown, who was featured in the movie Titanic. How was that? Sharp. So that was opening night and it was a special moment. I love the movie. I've watched Titanic more times, maybe than I should. So it was really cool to have that experience personally. It was surprising to dive into storytelling in a way that parallels the story that got me into acting in the first place. Pain. What do you do if an invader shows up and you don't get the reference? Sharp. That's the beautiful thing about this show and the brilliance of it, because it's about the heart. It's not about the reference. It's about the connection between the people. So when we go into the past and Scrooge is watching himself, we're figuring out how Scrooge and the invader know each other, why they were important to each other. And you know, the stories can go in so many different directions. It becomes less about the references and more about the heart of what's underneath the references. Are other members of the cast there to help or provide support? Sharp. One hundred percent. If I don't know the reference, someone among the six of us will and vice versa. On Titanic night, I was on it with the references. Invasion Christmas Carol has been running at dad's garage for over a decade. Yallmark began its life as a short form improv show at dad's garage, developed by actor and improviser Amber Nash. Sharp. Topher, how did Yallmark come to be? I know that you write for Hallmark. Pain. There are a lot of improv troops around the country who do some variation of goofing on Hallmark. And Amber picked up on that and started to think about what dad's garage spin on the formula would be because it's ridiculously popular with a TV viewing populace. She had the notion of having a real Hallmark writer telling the story as our gimmick. So she came to me with that. We started building the idea and we just tested it out as a dad's late night show. We figured out what it was as we were doing it. And the turning point for the show, when we realized what made ours unique, is that we're trying really hard to get it right. The audience satisfaction and delight comes from my sincere attempt as the narrator and the cast really trying their best to make a Hallmark movie. Then there are the characters within the characters where we wondered what is the want of each individual improviser. Amber is always an apple polisher, always trying to make the narrator happy. When Kevin Gillespie does it, his character is always trying to do it his way, which is sometimes in alignment with the narrator and we have a glorious victory. And then there's times where it's a negotiation. It's tense. The delight of it is exactly what you were saying. Focusing on the relationships that are happening on stage and selling the audience on the story of the ensemble creating the story. Sharp. So cool. Pain. It's really neat because even when it's badly behaved, it's very good-hearted. Our goal each night is to make the audience root for the couple. When we get to that final moment when snow begins to fall and the couple goes in for the kiss, if we get a sincere awe from the audience, that's our barometer for success in storytelling. Sharp. That's the beauty of having improvised moments within a truly grounded story, especially one heartfelt and with heightened emotions. The juxtaposition between the comedy and the sweet moments makes individual moments better. That's why I love Christmas Carol as well. When we try to tell a true Christmas Carol and then you throw the wackiness of the invader in there, we get laughs. We get awe. We get tears. I love when people after the show tell me they cried three times. Laughter is a given. It's harder to earn the awe. Pain. With Horizon last year, a good segment of our audience was attending their first improv show. Their only experience with it might have been watching Whose Line Is It Anyway? and their notion of improv was very game-based, short form. The magic trick of creating a two-act story spontaneously caused so much discovery and delight in the audience being introduced to a new form of storytelling. Sharp. Magic. Pain. Magic. That was Q&A. Stars of Invasion and Yallmark Infuse Holiday Improv with Humor Heart by Benjamin Carr. Next up, Review. Photo Exhibit at Sea Museum in Plain Sight by Virginie Kippelin. The impact of racism on public health is not common knowledge, but according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, extensive research has shown that centuries of racism in this country has had a profound and negative impact on communities of color. This is why the far-reaching body of work by photographer Rich Frischman, Ghosts of Segregation, feels at home at the David J. Sensor CDC Museum. His images take us on a sobering trip around the country, literally shedding light on places where segregation and Jim Crow laws shaped the architecture of buildings from schools to movie houses. Some of these sites have made history. The infamous Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama comes to mind. But many places are inconspicuous and have seemingly been forgotten. This is exactly what Frischman wants us to see and to reflect upon. In his own words, it's an effort to heighten awareness, motivate action, and spark an honest conversation about the legacy of racial injustice in America. Frischman comes from a photojournalism background, but for this project, he deliberately turned his camera toward the built environment. Not unlike an archaeologist, he looked for signs and markers that reveal the past, or what he poetically calls ghosts. Our built environment is society's autobiography writ large, he notes. Fueled by fear and intolerance, these ghosts haunt us because they are very much alive. Frischman traveled across many states, from New York to Oregon and Michigan to Mississippi. In 2019, he claimed to have documented 75 sites for his project, segregated resorts, drive-ins, internment camp barracks, colored entrances to theaters and churches, to name a few, and has since photographed many more. Although a majority of his images depict acts of racism toward Black communities, he did not limit himself, extending his research to include Chinese, Japanese, and Latino communities as well. This traveling exhibit at the CDC Museum through May 24, 2024, is hosted by the CDC in partnership with the Atlanta Center for Photography and features 35 of these photographs. They are installed on two levels on stand-alone panels displayed at different angles. The exhibit is minimalist in its design, but prolific in contextual information. Extended captions or backstories become part of the experience as much as the images themselves, encouraging viewers to comprehend the full depth of the issue. Take, for instance, the powerfully deceptive image, Bandstand Mural at the Former Sunset Cafe. It features a mural of jazz musicians playing in the one-time glorious Musical Hall in Chicago, which is now a beauty and sundry supply store. Frischman framed his image in such a way that we see both the mural and the shelves that were built in front of it with their display of shoes and handbags. The image is subtle, its impact augmented through the caption, without which it would be impossible to make sense of it. If the extent of his research is remarkable, so is the quality of his images. In a short video displayed at the entrance of the exhibit, Frischman explains his use of what he calls stitching or blending, a photography technique that consists of working with tens, sometimes hundreds of images taken from the same viewpoint, but at different light conditions and moments in time. This post-production process is especially helpful in late evening or night shoots, resulting in images that offer a luminous rendering as seen in Lynching Site near Philadelphia, Mississippi. Frischman has a real appetite for racist history that is hidden in plain sight, focusing on the most mundane building to reveal an important bit of history. In the process, he has developed a reliable network of resources. I've reached out to scholars, historians, and ordinary people who might share their insights, experiences, and suggestions. Local libraries and museums often guide me to forgotten places, he notes. That's all the time we have for this article, which is entitled Review. Photo Exhibit at CDC Museum Reveals Racist History Hidden in Plain Sight, by Virginia Kippelin, from the Arts ATL Publication. That concludes today's MetroArts program, which is brought to you by the Fulton County Board of Commissioners. This has been Kristen Moody for GARS, the Georgia Radio Reading Service. Thank you for listening to GARS.