Jersey Arts Resolutions, Part 1.

As we head towards the close of another trip ’round the sun, we wanted to share with you some of our reflections and thoughts on both 2010′s arts experiences and our hopes for what 2011 may hold. Here’s some resolutions from Shen, Gary, Patricia and Cat–check back for part 2 later this week. We hope you enjoy, New Jersey–and stay warm! –CV

SHEN SHELLENBERGER, our Blogger-at-Large:

When Twyla moves, you listen...

Twyla Tharp said that “art is the only way to run away without leaving home” and, really, isn’t that the truth?

I’ve always had art in my life – whether I was pounding out adolescent stories on the hulking Royal typewriter in my grandmother’s basement or listening to “West Side Story” and “Funny Girl” with my mother in the living room of our circa 1950s Cherry Hill ranch home.

Through writing for Culture Vultures this year, I’ve been more tuned in to art than I have for a long time.  Not only have I gone to musical concerts, which I’d likely have done regardless, but I also visited a jewel of a cultural site, saw a marvelous art exhibition at an equally marvelous South Jersey museum, watched a remarkable theatre production and attended the WheatonArts fest.

And the conversations that I had with people who make art – or in the case of the Civil War reenactors, keep history alive – reminded me of how glorious it is to have that passion to create.

In the coming year, I want to hear more stories – told from the stage in theatre productions and from authors reading and discussing their work.  I want to see more visual art, and maybe finally get my boyfriend to Grounds for Sculpture.  And I’d love to be a student and challenge myself to learn a new skill or fine-tune something I once knew how to do.  In short, my goal is to spend more time surrounded by art and the people who make it.

And, you’re right, Twyla, I won’t even have to pack a bag.

Arts Holiday Memories…and Making Some New Ones.

Even the Grinch Loves This Time of Year!

Over here at Culture Vultures, we’re all sorts of excited for this time of year. There’s a chill in the air, the lights twinkle and blink in every color imaginable, and everything has that faint, mysterious flavor of gingerbread. We’ve asked our bloggers to share their favorite holiday memories from years past, and offer some advice on building new arts traditions with your family this season. We’ll have some today, and some more next week. After reading, check out our bloggers’ recommendations on our Holiday Guide. We hope you enjoy! -CV

CHRIS BENINCASA, Our Film Blogger:

George C. Scott as Scrooge (Bah. Humbug)

A Holiday Memory: Aside from the holiday events at church and school, and there were many of those, over the holidays we were pretty much barricaded in at some relative’s house, or at our house, in which case the trains of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, and friends ran until what seemed like the end of Time itself.  We went to church on Christmas eve, made weird-looking ornaments out of Styrofoam, made lanterns for the sidewalk by putting sand at the bottoms of paper bags and then sticking candles in the sand – not the best idea, come to think of it – and then, finally, after the sermon, we watched choir-ish-looking congregation members ring handbells in very ingenious, clucking sequences.  We would also watch the George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol – which I still like very much – and, of course, the sacred Charlie Brown special – the one with the little tree who’s so meek that it can’t even hold one red bulb off the ground.  But one experience I can share is what must have been an abridged reading of A Christmas Carol at Rivergate Books in Lambertville.  The store is no longer there, but it was a really cool spot that had a backyard patio overlooking the river, and you could buy a book and sit out there and read it.  The owner lived on our street, and she asked me to do some modest, middle school set design – Scrooge’s hearth made of painted foam core.  At the point when the reader, whose name I cannot remember (Sorry.  You were great!), got to Charles Dickens’ description of that hearth, I got a kick out of seeing someone kind of acting and interacting with the prop I’d made – and seeing it pretty much match up with the words being spoken.

A New Tradition: But if there’s one holiday-ish arts thing I need to get around to doing, it’s checking out a production of Black Nativity.  I’ve always thought that sounded great.  When I was a kid, and my younger brother was still, I don’t know, under the age of one, my family “performed” in our church’s nativity play – meaning we stood around while the story was narrated from the pulpit.  A different family did it every year.  My brother was the baby Messiah, my parents were the parents, my sister was a shepherd, and I was a slightly taller shepherd, wearing a robe and some biblical headgear, pretending to sing.  I wasn’t trying to be uncooperative.  I think I was just distracted by how bored I was, and so couldn’t really keep up with the rest of the cast.  Even today, it seems like the smartest strategy I could’ve hoped to come up with.  And it worked.