V23 Creative Magazine: Summer 2014 (Volume 2, Issue 2) by V23 Creative Magazine

SUMMER 2014 VOLUME 2 | ISSUE 2

FEATURING

Lauren Joseph Matthew Tiemann Blythe Thomas Nicole Mago Louisa Wendorff Gazzo Joanna Valente Cameron DeOrdio

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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W: Website // B: Blog // FB: Facebook // T: Twitter // P: Pinterest // F: Flickr // I: Instagram // L: LinkedIn // S: Store // SC: SoundCloud // V: Vimeo // Y: YouTube // E: Email

Emily McNally Founder, Editor, Designer W: www.emilymcnally.com P: pinterest.com/emc1108 E: emilymcnallydesign@gmail.com

SUMMER 2014 FEATURES ART + DESIGN

PHOTOGRAPHY

Music

Creative Writing

Lauren Joseph

Blythe Thomas

Louisa Wendorff

Joanna Valente

W: www.laurenjoseph.net

W: www.blythethomas.com

W: www.louisawendorff.com

W: www.joannavalente.com

T: twitter.com/_laurenjoseph

FB: facebook.com/blythe.thomas

T: twitter.com/louisawendorff

FB: facebook.com/joannav

I: instagram.com/laurenjoseph

I: instagram.com/_blythethomas

I: instagram.com/louisawendorff

T: twitter.com/joannasaid

E: lauren.joseph001@gmail.com

E: blythe@blythethomas.com

E: louisa@louisawendorff.com

I: instagram.com/joannacvalente

Matthew Tiemann

Nicole Mago

Gazzo

Cameron DeOrdio

W: www.studio-matticus.com

W: www.nicolemago.com

W: www.gazzomusic.com

T: twitter.com/stopgrammartime

B: studio-matticus.tumblr.com

T: twitter.com/nicolemago

FB: facebook.com/gazzomusic

E: cdeordio@gmail.com

S: thecampsite.storenvy.com

I: instagram.com/nicolemago

T: twitter.com/djgazzo SC: soundcloud.com/djgazzo

SUMMER 2014 CONTRIBUTORS Alison Sanderlin

Mikaela Hamilton

Blythe Thomas

Photographer

B: alisonelizabethphoto.tumblr.com

W: www.mikaelahamilton.com

W: www.blythethomas.com

F: flickr.com/photos/8590262@N03

B: mikaelahamilton.tumblr.com

FB: facebook.com/blythe.thomas

L: linkedin.com/pub/alison-sanderlin/34/bba/780

I: instagram.com/mikaela_hamilton

I: instagram.com/_blythethomas

E: mikaela@mikaelahamilton.com

E: blythe@blythethomas.com

Maddy Talias

Brianne French-Sorgini

Photographer

Artist

W: www.maddytalias.com

B: welliesinlondon.tumblr.com

B: maddytalias.tumblr.com

P: pinterest.com/breezyfs

I: instagram.com/maddytalias

I: instagram.com/welliesinlondon

E: maddy@maddytalias.com

V23 CREATIVE MAGAZINE

SUMMER 2014 | LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

ince our last issue was released, V23 held its first ever event: a showcase at Tammany Hall in New York City which highlighted select creatives who have been featured in the magazine over the course of its debut year: Dogs on Main Street (Summer 2013), Liliana Rose of Liontide (Winter 2013), The Gantry (Spring 2014),

DJ Allison Kinney (Winter 2013), Cassidy Kristiansen (Winter 2013 and Spring 2014), and Sean Dougherty (Spring 2014). It was a great success and a wonderful way to celebrate the first anniversary of the magazine. Since not all of the past features and contributors could physically be present, a digital gallery recognized the work of everyone who has been involved. This issue officially kicks off the second year of V23 with a great group of creatives from New York to Nashville, all with unique backgrounds, talents, and points of view. If you are interested in contributing to or being featured in future issues, please see the contact information for V23 at the end of the magazine on page 104. While youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re there, be sure to connect with us on social media to join our creative network and get the latest updates on our features and contributors, past and present. Have a wonderful summer and thank you for your continued readership and support!

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LAUREN JOSEPH MATTHEW TIEMANN

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ART IN ALL FORMS How Lauren Joseph Continues To Explore Within her Field Story by Emily McNally and Lauren Joseph Artwork by Lauren Joseph Photographs of Artwork by Lauren Joseph Photographs of Lauren by Kelci Alane

grew up in a family that emphasized the importance of finding something that I really enjoyed doing because, at least as I was told, I would likely have to do it every day for the rest of my life,” recalls Lauren Joseph, a Virginia artist currently based in

Washington, D.C. “Of course, I had other interests growing up, but the only thing that made complete sense to me was a career in the arts.” Currently, Lauren works for D.C.’s city regional magazine as a Production and Photography Associate. “My position in print publishing keeps things interesting, both in and outside of the office… and I prefer it that way,” she expresses. “I like to be busy – bustling, even – which allows me to meet a wide range of interesting people and makes each week completely different.” Outside of her day job, Lauren paints in oils. During her college years at James Madison University, she studied painting, drawing, and art history, while discovering a love for fiber arts and printmaking along the way. Additionally, since working in the nation’s capital and being exposed to many award-winning photographers, Lauren has started to explore photography more on her own. “I’m interested in assigning a subject matter to a medium and seeing how they inform each other, such as photography: portraits, painting: abstract landscapes, and so on,” she notes.

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While Lauren is clearly a creative to her core, her artistic background is something that she’s still trying to understand. “Almost everyone in my family is in the medical field, and if they’re not in medicine, they certainly are not in the arts,” she discloses. “I’ve started to realize how other forms of art must have played a role in my interest in the field, such as going to the theatre, broad musical experiences and the love of multiple genres, watching Golden-Era Hollywood, frequently going to concerts…I guess you could say that my artistic background has been learning and exploring art in all of its many forms.” Lauren’s wide range of experiences have collectively opened her mind in terms of expressing herself and telling stories via her art. “It’s very interesting to me how my college classes outside of painting were the ones that seriously informed my work,” she recognizes. As Lauren continues to grow as an artist, she acknowledges that the more she learns, the more she realizes how much she still doesn’t know. “That’s motivating for me, though,” she affirms. “I think it’s extremely common to go through creative blocks. Sometimes, I don’t paint for a couple of months. That being said, in the moment, I take breaks frequently. I look at other media, such as journals, Instagram; I use Instagram heavily for inspiration. It has, in an unexpected, new-age way, provided me with a break as well as instant inspiration. This goes for Tumblr as well.” Lauren also goes to emerging artist shows as a way of continuing her education. “I started doing this thing where I paint with my sewing machine,” she explains. “I take a thick piece of paper about the size of an index card, a pile of fabrics and papers of various shapes and sizes, and randomly, swiftly, grab pieces and sew them on. Once the paper is covered, the result is abstract and textural. It requires me to clear my mind; creating something new and fairly quickly makes me loosen up and stop being so technical. It has definitely forced me to look at things differently in a very positive way for my creative process.” Shortly after graduating, Lauren attended Haystack Mountain School of Crafts, where she was taught a lot about creative blocks. “When you’re staring at something for so long, sometimes, it’s best to literally take it apart completely and put it back together in a different way. Even if you like something, it’s challenging and will open your mind to destroy it and build anew.”

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Lauren’s Favorite Quote: “Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” Ira Glass

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When painting, Lauren tends to gravitate towards portraits of women either in nontraditional roles or in incredibly vulnerable states. “It’s been hard for me, I think, to be as successful with that subject matter as I would like to be,” she admits. “I’m still sort of finding my way in terms of nailing down certain themes. I think I’ve found it in painting with my sewing machine. I’m really attracted to abstract shapes, colors, and patterns, and I think those things translate really well into abstract landscape paintings.” Some notable artists that Lauren admires are Alphonse Mucha, Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Bill Cunningham, Alexander McQueen, The Eames’, Mies van der Rohe, Nick Cave, and Sally Mann. “In my mind, I envision these artists on the timeline of my life and remember the exact moment that each of them affected me and informed my work,” she describes. “I always think about what makes art ‘good,’ and in my opinion, it is very personal. It is what moves you, what makes you feel something…and that something can be really beautiful, or very ugly or sad, but that, to me, is also beautiful. Each of these artists have done something in moving me.” Lauren has many goals for her creative future: attend graduate school, move to New York City, continue to climb higher in the publishing industry, work on more art direction projects, and start a blog. “By doing the latter, I plan to round out how I talk about my art by becoming a better writer – which also has the added benefit of refining my curatorial and photography skills,” she shares. To others who may be looking to establish a creative career, Lauren’s key piece of advice is to consistently produce work. “Produce a ton of work, bad work included, because something good is bound to come out of it.” Community is also important to Lauren, especially in the creative field. “Networking should be embraced,” she comments. “I think we should all collaborate a lot more; it could lead to so many wonderful things!” When Lauren was still in school, she sent every gallery in D.C. an email asking if they needed an intern. “You just have to put yourself out there frequently and be persistent,” she reveals. “I have my job now because I quite literally walked into the creative director’s office, introduced myself, and told him that I wanted to work for him. You are in charge of your future, so hustle.” n

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Magical Hurl Inside the Artistic World Of Matthew Tiemann Story by Emily McNally and Matthew Tiemann Magical Hurl Garments and Accessories by Matthew Tiemann Photography by Alison Sanderlin and Matthew Tiemann Modeled by Jay Skinner, Megan Aguilar, Raven Price and Matthew Tiemann Makeup by Raven Price Accessories featured in this article can be purchased at thecampsite.storenvy.com

have always been interested in art,” says Matthew Tiemann, a cross-medium artist and designer from Virginia. “From an early age, I was filling up sketchbooks and writing my own stories.” In high school, Matthew devoted his artistic skills to theatre,

designing costumes, promotional pieces, and logos. In college, he studied graphic design and learned a lot about his personal style, taste, and aesthetics. “I was fortunate enough to take classes in other fields of art, including fiber arts and painting, which fundamentally changed my views on art and design,” he shares. “I started to see how all forms of art are connected – I wanted to do everything.” Since graduating, Matthew has worked on numer-

ous personal and freelance projects, ranging from web design to illustration to clothing.

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Magical Hurl, the clothing collection featured in this issue, was particularly inspired by the retro look and feel of the ‘60s, as well as modern Japanese street fashion. “I wanted to pull what I liked from both worlds: the bold, simplistic look of shift dresses and the crazy, detailed prints used in Lolita fashion,” Matthew describes. “First, I sketched out rough ideas for the garments. Next, I created and refined the illustration used in my patterns and sent them to be printed onto fabric. Once the fabric arrived, I cut and stitched the outfits together.” From there, Matthew designed pieces to go with the garments themselves, pairing vintage objects with handcrafted shrinkable plastic to create a wide range of accessories. Why the name Magical Hurl? “It’s a combination of the term ‘magical girl’ and the body’s natural response to vomit,” Matthew explains. “A ‘magical girl’ is a character archetype in Japanese anime and manga who uses magic to fight the forces of evil. Many of the characters receive their power from their garments and accessories, many of which contain jewels and mystical powers. By combining this phrase with the word ‘hurl,’ the idea takes on a new meaning. Magical Hurl brings to mind upchucking magic from inside oneself, drawing hidden power from within.” Through the collection, Matthew strives to inspire power. “When you wear these garments and accessories, you, too, can fight evil with your own personal brand of magic and style.”

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Matthew’s girlfriend, Megan, one of the models in the Magical Hurl collection, is one of his biggest artistic influences. “Megan really pushed me into creating clothing,” Matthew recalls. “About a year after we started dating, she began taking me to anime conventions, which inspired me to begin creating my own ensembles based on popular characters.” Matthew and Megan continue to influence each other every day through sharing their favorite new musicians, artists, and designers. “It’s amazing to see how much someone can affect your personal aesthetics,” he acknowledges. Matthew is also inspired by his daily life, particularly past memories and childhood objects that have meaning to him. “Toys are a major influence, as I was brought up by two toy collectors: my father collects play sets from the ‘60s and my mom collects Barbie dolls.” When working through particularly challenging creative situations, Matthew has found that stepping away from his work area is the best remedy. “Hitting a roadblock is so frustrating for an artist, especially when you are in the zone to work or have a really great idea,” Matthew admits. “When I’m sitting at a sewing machine for hours, I often end up hitting a wall. Either the thread isn’t behaving or the garment doesn’t look quite the way I want it to…it’s frustrating!” Grabbing a sketch book to spend a few minutes working out new ideas or fresh takes on his current project proves to lower his stress level. “If I’m particularly defeated, I’ve found that practicing self-care helps the most,” Matthew discloses. “Taking a shower, cleaning my work area, or making some coffee are some of my best examples. This way, when I come back to my sewing machine, I know what to expect and I’ve had time to appropriately deal with the situation at hand.” 2014 has already been a solid year for Matthew, as he has achieved many goals that he has had for awhile – including creating the Magical Hurl clothing collection – and continues to work towards his dreams. “Megan and I have gotten into two artist alleys at anime conventions this summer,” he reveals. “This means we will be selling accessories (similar to the ones in the Magical Hurl collection), art, and other handmade goods. It’s really exciting to be able to sell my work directly to customers in this setting.” In the future, Matthew hopes to land a job as a full-time designer. “Though creating garments and accessories is a fun pastime, I really enjoy the language of design,” Matthew states. “To be able to work at a company or firm where I can support myself independently is the ultimate dream.” To other artists out there, Matthew encourages them to share their work with others, particularly online. “I know it’s a scary concept to open yourself up to criticism, but I promise it’s always worth it,” he expresses. Additionally, he advises budding creatives to not look to anyone but themselves. “Just because conditions aren’t perfect, doesn’t give you an excuse not to create a body of work,” he affirms. “If you can’t get funding to work on a large-scale painting, then buy some cheap paints and work on cardboard. I guarantee you will be 100% happier with your life if you are constantly creating new work.” n

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BLYTHE THOMAS NICOLE MAGO PHOTO SERIES

MIKAELA HAMILTON

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Living and Dreaming The Free-Spirited Photography Of Blythe Thomas Story by Emily McNally and Blythe Thomas Photography by Blythe Thomas

y favorite part of a photo shoot is getting to know my subjects,” says Blythe Thomas, a Nashville-based portrait photographer who grew up outside of both New York City and Washington,

D.C. “I love people too much and just want to know their stories! I’m consistently blown away by the fact that people trust me to take their photographs; it’s such an honor to be a fly on the wall and to be able to collide with people I never would have if it weren’t for photography.” Blythe has a theory that people believe the most unflattering shot of themselves is what they truly look like and any attractive shot has to be some sort of fluke. “I love being able to get to know people on shoots, make them feel comfortable, showcase who they are behind the lens, and hopefully instill a little confidence in them to show them how beautiful they really are,” she shares. “It’s hard for people to find pictures of themselves that they like, so it never gets old when I can do that for somebody.”

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Blythe first became involved with photography when she signed up for a film photography class back in eighth grade. She stuck with strictly film photography for the next seven years. “Learning the mechanics of photography through film was how I really got my start and I’m so appreciative of that,” she acknowledges. “I suggest to anyone looking to get into photography to start with film and appreciate the art of truly making a photograph from start to finish: from clicking the shot, to rolling and developing the film, to printing it on an enlarger and watching it appear in the darkroom like magic. There’s something romantic and therapeutic to me about that old school way of really, truly creating something versus snapping 1,000 digital shots; but I do love digital now and like to edit with a film photography style in mind.” Blythe moved to Nashville in 2011 to study at Belmont University. She did a bit of photography there for sports games and campus events, but an inspiring trip to South Africa last summer was what propelled her into picking it up full force. “The people, stories, and photos that have happened since then keep me confident that I’m on the path designed for me,” she affirms. “I haven’t looked back since.” As a young photographer, Blythe used to be intimidated when it came to putting her name out there. “It’s definitely a hustle with so many talented photographers all around,” she admits. “I did a good job of shooting myself in the foot confidence-wise for awhile, but once I stopped comparing myself to others and just focused on myself, my photos got better and my portfolio improved.” Practice, practice, practice is her key piece of advice. “The best you can do is believe in your work and share it,” she says. “When you do, others will, too.” Blythe also encourages emailing a bunch of photographers in hopes of shadowing them. “Most will ignore you, but for the ones who don’t, you will have made an awesome connection. I’ve had amazing coffee dates in Los Angeles, New York City, Nashville, and beyond with all types of different creatives. People are willing to teach you what they know; you just have to be bold enough to ask.” That being said, Blythe is also an advocate of self-teaching through Google and YouTube tutorials. “I’ve learned so much from these basic tools,” she confirms. “Never think you’re done practicing or learning from other people.”

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Blythe draws inspiration from a variety of sources “Other photographers really inspire me, as do my friends who are musicians,” she states. “I love to collaborate with other creatives in general, even if it’s just to bounce ideas off of each other.” Blythe has some old photography books that she occasionally turns to, but stays current by consistently browsing Pinterest and Instagram. As for her own style, she’s been working closely on her editing technique and feels as though she’s finally getting to a point where someone could recognize her photos as her own. “I like to edit digital with a bit of old school film magic to bring both my past and present worlds together,” she comments. “Since I’m only in my first year of seriously pursing photography, I feel like I’m still working out the kinks in my overall vibe and brand, but when it comes to marketing my work, you’ll notice that I love to use a little arrow symbol that I actually have tattooed on my body. It sort of goes with my bohemian, free-spirited vibe.” Fashion photos that have bohemian vibes tend to be Blythe’s favorite images and the types of shoots that she hopes to work on more as she branches further into fashion and editorial photography. “I just love that free-spirited vibe that shows effortless, low maintenance, young beauty,” she reveals.

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When she’s not immersed in her work, Blythe seeks spontaneous adventures. “This is a weird way to phrase it, but I love doing dangerous things,” she confesses. “It’s such a far cry from who I was when I was younger, but I love checking out old roofs, bridges, abandoned houses, and more; I feel the most alive when I drop everything and do something out of the norm – although I do usually have my camera with me.” Blythe also enjoys team sports and a good late night porch hangout with friends. “Meaningful conversations always leave me feeling the fullest afterwards,” she recognizes. “Relationships are absolutely everything.” Throughout her experiences thus far, Blythe has come to the conclusion that people tend to sell themselves short when they say that their dream is to change just one life before they die. “It doesn’t take as much as we think; sometimes, all it takes is connection,” she notes. “I bet we’ve all already changed dozens of lives just from meaningful conversations and showing a desire to invest in somebody, no strings attached or ulterior motives.” Connecting with people through photography, perhaps with some travel thrown into the mix, is Blythe’s ultimate dream. “To make people feel just a bit more beautiful, or that someone cares to get to know — and document — their story; of course, a dream is to photograph those celebrities and ‘cool people,’ but the idea of just going abroad and meeting strangers gets me going that much more. I could go on and on, but I just want to be all in life and go headfirst into these dreams. I like to say I just throw a bunch in the air and am just now waiting to see what drops.” n

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Photo: Fat White Family

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MAKING IT KNOWN NICOLE MAGO’S DEVOTION TO PURSUING HER DREAM Story by Emily McNally and Nicole Mago Photography by Nicole Mago

can’t exactly recall a point where I was like, ‘Yes, this is what I’m going to do’ – it just kind of happened,” says Brooklyn-based portrait and music photographer Nicole Mago. “I’ve been interested in photography for as long as I can remember.” Nicole

took her first photography course in high school and proceeded to enroll in an extracurricular art school as well. “I would leave high school early to go to my art school on certain days,” the New Jersey native remembers. “I wasn’t friends with too many other artists in high school, so this extracurricular school was really cool for me.” During her senior year, Nicole was unsure as to what she wanted to do come graduation. “I didn’t think there was actually potential for a career in photography, and almost went to school for graphic design as a result,” she confesses. “While applying, I realized graphic design wasn’t for me, and after much arguing with myself, I decided to pursue the one thing I knew and thought I was decent at: photography.”

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Above: Kid Rock // Below: Kiss

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Upon graduating from college, Nicole acknowledges that she was worried about losing out on potential clients if they found out how young and new to the industry she was; however, she quickly learned that would not be the case and that her work would speak for her. “That being said, I have had experiences where people have tried to take advantage of me and my work because I’m so young,” she discloses. “‘It’ll be great for your portfolio!’ – I’ll never stop hearing that one.” Nicole did take a few low-paying jobs when she was first starting out, but eventually reached a point where she decided she needed to start respecting herself and her work more. “Once I did that,” she reflects, “the low-ballers started to go away.” Nicole’s impressive archive of professional photography experiences further prove that age is just a number. “In October of 2013, Burberry released a new men’s fragrance called Brit Rhythm,” she recalls. “To celebrate the release, they threw three concerts in three major cities: London, Singapore, and New York City. I was hired by them to shoot the New York City show, featuring English indie rock band Peace with Charlie XCX. I got to hang out at the venue all day, shoot some backstage portraits and candids; it was really cool to have all access, considering I’m usually limited to three songs to get ‘the shot’ at most of the concerts that I shoot.” Nicole has also been featured on RollingStone.com numerous times and was just nineteen years old when they first ran one of her images. “Being that young and having a magazine that you read regularly run one of your photographs on their website was so exciting,” she shares. “It’s still cool.”

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Photo: Fun

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You have to make Your work known. Be unique, try new things, challenge yourself, networkâ&#x20AC;Ś And keep shooting. Always shoot. Nicole Mago

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Above + Below: Peace

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Above: Rupert Wates // Below: The Hives

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When Nicole has creative control of a photography assignment, she aims to do something different with each and every one. “It’s easy to find something that you like and do it over and over again,” she recognizes. “It’s also isn’t fulfilling as an artist to do that.” Additionally, hitting roadblocks is a typical part of the creative process for Nicole, as it often is for all artists. “I’ve never been one to go digging through magazines or books for inspiration,” she expresses. “I like to let it come to me. I used to carry a small book around and jot down ideas as they struck me, but thanks to modern technology, my iPhone notes are usually filled with small excerpts of potential new concepts.” Inspiration tends to come to Nicole naturally when she’s doing something that she enjoys. “If it’s warm out, I’ll walk somewhere nice and listen to music; or maybe I’ll drive somewhere different,” she comments. “I feel the most inspired when I’m either traveling or listening to music.” While Nicole believes that most of her portrait work has a bit of a dark, solitary feel to it, she doesn’t like to pose her subjects. “It seems unnatural and contrived to me,” she explains. “Most of my favorite shots are those ‘in between moments’ – the moments where the subjects are standing there, waiting for me to tell them what to do. I love the natural expressions and attitudes that come through during those moments.” For her live work, Nicole loves to shoot wide to capture everything that’s happening. “The lights, expressions, stage set up, fans…providing a sense of environment is what I feel completes the story.” Nicole’s long term goal for the future is to be able to make a living off of her photography. One of her short term goals is to work with more artists and musicians personally. “Perhaps go on tour and capture everything that goes along with being a musician; not just the hour that they’re on stage,” she shares. “I did some album art last July for a talented musician, Rupert Wates. I would love to do some more of that as well.” To others who may be looking to seriously pursue photography, Nicole advocates promoting yourself and your work. “You can’t just expect potential clients to find you,” she states. “You have to make your work known. Be unique, try new things, challenge yourself, network…and keep shooting. Always shoot.” n

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EXPOSED A PHOTO series Photography by Mikaela Hamilton

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LOUISA WENDORFF GAZZO

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CELEBRATING THE STORY Louisa Wendorff ’s Mission to Make a Difference Through Music Story by Emily McNally and Louisa Wendorff Photography by Blythe Thomas

hen Louisa Wendorff was seven years old, her step-grandmother, a Korean opera singer, had a concert in a huge hotel ballroom. “She invited me and a couple of my cousins to sing a Sound

of Music medley in the middle of her concert, which ended with all 500 attendees giving us a standing ovation,” the Nashville-based musician remembers. “That was the moment I knew I wanted to be on stage with lights shining down and an audience in front of me for all the days of my life.” Originally from Palos Verdes, a small town about half an hour south of Los Angeles, Louisa was drawn to Nashville a couple of years ago for both college and the music scene. “I don’t see myself moving anytime soon,” she confirms. “I’m absolutely in love with this city.” Louisa categorizes her music under the genre urban acoustic, as well as singer/songwriter pop, and credits Ed Sheeran, Lorde, Tyrone Wells, and Ingrid Michaelson as some of her musical influences. Similarly, Louisa’s primary instrument is her voice, but she plays guitar and ukulele as well.

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Music has been part of Louisa’s life in one way or another ever since she was a child. “I’m the type of person who has too many passions,” she admits. “I started out dancing like a lot of little kids do; around second grade, I began classical vocal training along with musical theatre.” Throughout middle school and high school, Louisa broke away from theatre and pursued acting, dancing, and singing. “Going into college, I decided that music was my number one passion and what I wanted to do with my life,” she reflects. “About a year ago, I just went full force into it all.” As a young musician, Louisa has faced an abundance of challenges and obstacles. “I’ve experienced hardships in terms of a lack of consistency with bands, recording, and finding people to work with in general,” she expresses. “I’m so blessed to be surrounded by the team that I have now, but it wasn’t easy feeling like I was blowing in the wind with nothing solid to stand on.”

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Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m a dreamer. A big, big dreamer. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s so important to believe in yourself just as much as the ones who love you most do. Louisa Wendorff

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, t ow Arr debu ’s i s a n ow u o is L on E P, a b l e d il n ava n e s a i Tu o t i f y Sp

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Louisa writes all of her own material, her process usually beginning with her sitting down and getting the urge to write a song. “I start messing around with chords – whether they actually exist or not, I’m not sure – random tuning, and harmonic rhythms. Once I find a progression that inspires me, a melody will start coming to mind. I press record on my phone and just go with it.” Sometimes, the lyrics and melody come together instantly for Louisa, but other times, she works on songs for hours, days, or even weeks. “I love writing about real life,” she confesses. “Whether it’s my story, someone else’s story, or a story with a message that moves me, I try to create something from that inspiration.” Louisa is very passionate about self-worth and making sure that her music aligns with a common theme to allow people to find their unique beauty and freedom in who they are. “I grew up in a place where worth was determined by appearance and credentials,” she discloses. “Because of that, I’m very passionate about breaking that social norm. The way that I know how to express myself is through writing music and I hope to someday make a difference in peoples’ lives through my words.” Louisa has a new favorite artist just about every other week, so the list of those she admires is quite lengthy. “I believe that everyone has a story and offers something worthwhile to share with others,” she states; however, the first artist that she truly fell in love with was Ella Fitzgerald. “I was so interested with just about every facet of her life,” she recalls. “Looking outside of music, my parents just so happen to be the most inspirational people in my life.” When Louisa steps away from music altogether, she enjoys being adventurous outdoors. “I grew up water and snow skiing with my family,” she shares. “I’m always up for a hike, dirt bike ride, or a day at the beach.” She also loves to cook and claims she could spend days playing card games. If Louisa had it her way, she would spend her days traveling the world, performing for crowds of people, making new friends, writing, and recording whenever possible. “I’m a dreamer,” she acknowledges. “A big, big dreamer. It’s so important to believe in yourself just as much as the ones who love you most do.” In the music industry, nothing is ever set in stone and Louisa is constantly prepared to work around changes and just go with the flow. “I would advise others who may be looking to embark on a career in music to enjoy every step of the journey,” she offers. “Don’t despise small beginnings and never compare your story to someone else’s…because yours is what makes you a unique and beautiful person.” Arrow, Louisa’s debut EP, is now available on iTunes and Spotify. n

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Lost in Sound How Gazzo Embraces What Music is All About Story by Emily McNally and Michael Gazzo Photography by Maddy Talias

played in bands throughout my life and developed a passion for music as a whole, but later grew to love what dance music was all about,” producer, DJ, and songwriter Michael Gazzo – known professionally as simply Gazzo – shares. “The manipulation of

sounds fascinated me and the ‘everybody loves everybody’ mentality of the genre drew me to it even more.” While Gazzo doesn’t necessarily specialize in a particular genre, his current catalog of released tracks are mostly progressive, electro, deep house, and tech house. “I like to keep my doors open to new sounds and concepts to keep things fresh,” he states. “ I have a huge amount of unreleased music, ranging from hip-hop to country crossovers.” Gazzo grew up in New Jersey and started playing both guitar and bass when he was a teenager. “From there, I taught myself keyboard, drums, and harmonica. I played in metal bands, ska bands, jam bands, and did solo acoustic shows,” he recalls. The whole time he was playing in bands, Gazzo was producing music as well. “It’s funny because I started out on a program called TC8, which is the same program my buddies in Cash Cash started out on, too – literally had 8 tracks with big knobs for like compression and EQ with barely any manipulation involved. After progressing through different programs, I found myself at Logic Pro, which is what I use today.” As Gazzo continued to make and release electronic music, blogs started picking up his material and he began to DJ for parties around his college in Baltimore, Maryland. “As I got more and more into DJing and my music gained more and more support, I began to consider the idea of pursuing this as a career,” he reflects. ‘Ever since then, it’s been an outrageous journey.”

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One of the biggest risks that Gazzo took for his music career was dropping out of college. “Although I only had a year and a half left, I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t take the plunge,” he admits. “It was like a forbidden fruit type of situation. Everyone always said that the industry is so cutthroat and hard to break through, but as things progressed, I realized that I might only get one chance in life to truly do what I love; so from that moment on, I decided I would put every ounce of effort towards giving it a shot. I figured if it didn’t work out, at least I could look back with no regrets.” Aside from college, time is something that Gazzo sacrifices on a daily basis. “I’ve definitely had amazing moments with my friends and family, but the amount of time that I put into my career is insane,” he confesses. “When people come to my shows, it’s awesome, but technically I’m still working. Now, with that being said, time commitment is sort of two-sided; yes, I spend around ten hours a day on production, late hours on weekends, and some sleepless nights to ensure that I hit deadlines, but it’s all part of an absolute passion of mine. Even though it can be frustrating at times, all jobs have their moments and the majority of it I truly enjoy.” As a young DJ, Gazzo finds the constant changes that the industry sees and staying current to be two of his most prominent challenges. “Finding my sound took years and years of searching as well,” he discloses. Even though he has his signature sound now, he always has to consider how to keep his new music fresh. “My friend DJ Kalkutta from New York said something to me once that really encompasses the struggle of being a producer or DJ,” Gazzo remembers. “‘People don’t even think about it like this, but we have to sit in front of a screen and make something literally out of nothing.’ It’s true though; sometimes, your creative juices get stale and you have to take a step back, maybe even a day or two off, to get back into the groove of it.” Overall, Gazzo feels extremely fortunate to be able to do what he loves for a living, acknowledging that any obstacle is always worth it to him.

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[Music is] a way for people to express themselves and release their feelings; like a medium. I’ve used music to help me through the rough times and to embrace the amazing times. I think that’s really what it’s all about. Gazzo

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When doing live sets, Gazzo will usually make them up on the fly. “I’ll put together a list of anywhere from 50-100 songs that I think might appeal to the crowd of that particular place or venue, along with some new tracks that I want to club test,” he explains. “I put in tracks that I want to hear and some that I think the crowd wants to hear and usually mix them live so it’s the best of both worlds. Then I just read the crowd and play what I think will bring them on a journey!” As far as recorded sets for podcasts and radio, Gazzo usually compiles more current tracks of his own, of his friends, and of the industry itself. “Throwbacks are some of my favorites,” he comments, “so I usually slap those in both live and recorded mixes.” These days, Gazzo has been focusing most of his energy on his original vocal work. “Almost crossover radio-type stuff, but with my sounds involved,” he describes. “I want to get a track out that really defines ‘Gazzo.’ We’ve also been chatting with a ton of big dance labels for originals as well, so getting an original signed to each of those is in the works.” Gazzo would advise aspiring DJs to really learn the business side of things in order to be part of the decision-making process. “You want to be present when it comes to the important stuff,” he affirms. “As for the artist side, put in the work! Time is the only thing that will perfect your craft, and putting in the work will pay off in the end.” Since Gazzo first began his career, his production value has drastically increased and his music has become more developed. “Although music is a passion, it’s taken some real dedication to move at the speed that I’ve been moving at; it’s been an uphill battle, but that’s what any producer will tell you.” What Gazzo loves most about music as a universal idea, but also applicable to dance in particular, is that it’s used as an escape. “This career is a chance to make music that people get lost in, away from their problems at work or their relationship issues, family issues, or really any issues at all,” he reveals. “It’s a way for people to express themselves and release their feelings; like a medium. I’ve used music to help me through the rough times and to embrace the amazing times. I think that’s really what it’s all about.” n

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JOANNA VALENTE Cameron DeOrdio

SUMMER 2014

When They Were Lonely Words by Joanna Valente

There are freckles running into his cheeks from his nose, a topography map of Brooklyn. He asks for a typewriter on his birthday, says he forgot how to use his hands. Tessa wants her hands to find his intestines, twist until drained of her kind of loneliness, a Winslow Homer loneliness. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a clichĂŠ to yearn for freedom in America. He says, at my job I have many bosses. She says she loves men who are dead, they are the men who love the most. It was then he became afraid of her. n

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Winter in Madrid [ Marianne ] Words by Joanna Valente

Tessa is leaving, says she’ll be back in six months. Maybe a year. We never got along as children. She would pull my hair, say my parents didn’t love me. Now, recklessly, we burn books in unison, ink magnetized to our names. If liquefied, my matter couldn’t contain all the space in our apartment. Only pots & pans, like a star skipping over empty graves. Neither of us have flown before—we couldn’t miss a ghetto we never knew. n

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Cape Cod, MA [ Tessa ] Words by Joanna Valente

i. Here is a house swallowed by ocean; it’s giving birth tonight. Something limps inside your belly. You’re sleeping on a futon. This is not your house. Outside, rain roars like cannons for that stretch of absence, waves reacting on waves. You feel shame; it is a useless emotion. Out the front door is a graveyard of tire tracks, sounds of 90 miles per hour. ii. Now, your lover looks at you as an escaped zoo-animal—somewhere in this love, horses are running. iii. It takes a certain kind of person to live with that kind of madness, water rattling for peace it won’t find. You hear sounds of shells hitting the pavement. n

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Twins Words by Joanna Valente

We eat cod for dinner. The bones trail onto our plates like a pile of crisp rotted skeletons, smothered in a buttery language. Caught in our throats. At night, Jacob walks his dog who barks with the stationary lips of a ventriloquist. Whenever I get bored, I ask him to tell me what he remembers of becoming human again. n

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Songbird for Carrie Words by Joanna Valente

Translate how fond a gas station attendant loves the smell of oil to a chocolatier discovering all the cocoa in the world is gone â&#x20AC;&#x201D;is it a goodbye or the first embrace? I promised to find a train that would meet you halfwayâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a title to start a poem. Each break causes your mouth to mute. Once I thought to drown out your song with beeswax. Now there is only your sighing jaw. n

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Death in the Family, Part II Words by Joanna Valente

i. Birthdays became the worst days once the chemo started. You would forget what you were looking at & say the window was blocking your view of the backyard. You asked me to come close so you could search my face for features. ii. We kept saying weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re going to beat it. Then we realized we might not beat it. Then we knew we didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have a strong enough stick. You demanded I throw away every piece of wood in the house. Instead, I said you were my second father. You cried & kept crying the entire month, prayed for another life. Not long ago, we took bets on which Okcupid date was crazier. iii. Our bodies squirming under the midday sun, our naked heads exposed. You brushed your fingers over my head, said the sandpaper felt nice. Said you wished your head could feel like mine. In the next life, you were sure it would. n

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Only the Lonely Words by Joanna Valente

There are others like us, born in black smoke â&#x20AC;&#x201D;born through deaf, blind mouths. We drive through entire cities doors flung wide in search for a crossâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;promising our cells, willing & woodbuilt, to age in reverse. We ride the back of our thighs for a love worthy of a god, waiting to be satisfied from hunger; searching for mountains where instructions will be sent in words sung by a poet. n

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Basilie Words by Joanna Valente

Voula says she doesn’t understand my Greek [ but can feel it anyway ] She was the one to close my sister’s eyes when she died Said Basilie saw Yuri, kept saying his name [ chanting ] For sisters, we seldom saw each other [ only once ] I travelled to Greece, saw my mother’s eyes as hers Those stories about siblings separated are only supposed to be for the movies On a boat back to Greece, my mother left Maine— my sister barely alive [ in her ] Now I’m at that age when it’s not about my whole life [ ahead of me ] Everyone around me is dying—it’s not that I want to be last but I sure as hell don’t want to be [ next ] n SUMMER 2014

Smoked by Brianne French-Sorgini

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Summon Words by Joanna Valente

Sometime in August

I had been born no one

remembered the exact day

so I chose it myself.

Each morning an ironing

board splattered with pencil shavings spilling out of my throat white sheets no longer white. In wicker baskets lay unwashed clothes

from nights previous.

Dreams grew from new nerves.

Breathing was the same

as escaping

the life of my parents

now in Woodlawn cemetery.

alongside them. n

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My husband & I bought plots

When I was a Koutoulakos Words by Joanna Valente i. I ran away from home. I barely got away with it—my sister was thrown out of the house for helping me. Imagine her on the streets with a newborn. I said was eighteen when I was really seventeen. Who runs to a war? Well, it was supposed to be exciting, it was supposed to be romantic. I guess it was. I fell in love with a sailor, an Italian— I had no business letting myself. He proposed but instead, I ate his stomach from the inside. That’s what he told me as I left.

ii. The war ended. I was waiting somewhere in Brooklyn, rode the subway with someone I could love. We told the same stories about the old country that left us dead parents, a missing sister, a step father who drank himself to asphalt. We never wondered what the point of it all was. It’s just air that drives the lungs. Our families never had any money but we were never bored. They all thought I was crazy— I’m not even close. n

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Aw, Hell Words by Cameron DeOrdio

Mal grabbed her face, the only thing she could think to do to keep herself from biting Tom’s head off. After a moment, she pulled her hand down and played with the little brass demon-head necklace she called her Samulet. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Frankie leaned against Tom’s ’93 Camry, the brim of his Mets hat low over his face, rendering his expression barely visible. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Language, Mal.” “Sorry,” she said through her teeth. “I’m a bit stressed.” Tom stood and watched Mal hiss and Frankie smirk. He looked back at the door to his parents’ house. Still no sign of his brother. He turned back to his friends. Mal was still glaring at him when Frankie nodded a greeting over Tom’s shoulder. “Yo, Puddles, tell your bitch-ass brother he’s driving.” Alex winced at the name. Tom took a step forward. “Hey, don’t.” Alex kept his eyes fixed on the shoes he’d just changed into. He wondered if he’d have to throw out the other pair. He wondered if he still smelled like urine. The four kids stood in the road. Street lamps were far apart, not doing enough to keep the night-dark off of them. They stayed there for a while, silent. Mal tugged at her t-shirt’s collar. Alex chewed his cheek. Tom stared straight ahead, at his car and at Frankie, who remained perfectly still in his too-cool pose. “We are going, though, right?” When Mal flailed her arms, her overlarge flannel’s sleeves flopped in a manner that, under other circumstances, would have been comical. “Not much choice,” Frankie said. He laughed. “Unless you want to explain some pretty serious shit to your parents.” “But I don’t — ” Tom began. “Screw your night license, man.” Frankie rubbed his bare bicep. He’d left his jacket inside. “Besides,” Mal said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m pretty sure I’m out of lipstick.” Frankie barked at that, and even Tom had to chuckle. Alex stayed quiet, but a small smile flitted across his face and then was gone. Mal tossed her empty lipstick tube onto the asphalt, where it clanged and rolled away under a neighbor’s car. Tom sighed. “Let’s go.” They loaded into the car. Tom had to open the rear passenger-side door from the inside because the outside handle stuck. Frankie yelled “shotgun” and took it. “You know the way?” he asked. Mal snorted. “He has a car and lives in Worden. Of course he knows how to get to Wal-Mart. Where else is he gonna go?”

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Frankie shrugged at that. They drove in silence for a while. Frankie looked at Mal in the rearview mirror. Her heavy eye shadow verged on raccoon-look levels. She was staring down, seemingly at nothing in particular. He thought she was pretty, in a metal-geek-girl kind of way. This wasn’t a new realization to him, but each time he had it, it felt new, like he was consistently surprised by his attraction. Her dark green eyes darted up and met his in the mirror. “What?” she said. “How did you know all that shit? You know, back there.” She smirked. “Oh, you mean it’s not in the Monster Manual?” “Nope,” Tom said before he could stop himself. Frankie laughed. “Trust him; he’s got the thing memorized. But naw, Mal, really?” She shrugged. “You ever hear of this show, Supernatural?” He had. He watched reruns on TNT almost every day after school before wrestling practice. “Naw. What’s it about?” “These two gorgeous brothers and their gorgeous angel friend who fight pretty much every supernatural evil ever and still have time to be totally gay for each other.” Frankie had to admit that was a pretty accurate summary as far as he knew. “So the salt?” Tom asked. “Them.” She nodded. “And the devil’s trap – those things I put all over your house – them. Good thing it was in the S3 credits, really hammered it home for me.” “Fucking aye.” Frankie shook his head. “Silver was all Tom, though,” she said. He shrugged, took an off-ramp. “I’d be a pretty piss-poor DM if I didn’t know you use silver for devils. Not that it did much good.” Frankie smacked Tom’s shoulder. “Not your fault your parents are cheap bastards.” Tom’s face twitched into a kind of grimace for just a moment. He took a left on Maple. Frankie lifted his hat to scratch at his temple. “Isn’t that a right?” Tom sighed. He was pretty sure it was a left, but he hated that he wasn’t sure, and he hated even more letting the others know he wasn’t sure. “Anyone’s phone working yet?” Frankie and Mal tried, but they still wouldn’t turn on. Alex’s parents thought he was too young to have one, so he sat and watched Mal remove and reinsert her battery, mash the power button, then toss the dark phone, exasperated, to the floor mat. Tom was getting worried that it was a right on Maple. So he did what he always did when he thought he might be lost: He sped up, trying to get to a recognizable landmark or, if he’d guessed right, his destination, faster. The way he saw it, the faster he drove, the faster he could figure out where he was going.

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Alex noticed. Tom had made a habit of driving the speed limit with his brother in the car until now. Alex gnawed on his cheek a bit more, then spoke. “Maybe slow down?” No one responded. Tom saw fewer and fewer buildings, more trees. He’d made the wrong choice. He drove faster, looking for a place to turn around. There weren’t a lot of options. Alex knew asking again would be pointless, but he couldn’t stop worrying, which led him to worrying about other things. “You’re sure he can’t get out?” Mal licked her teeth. “Yeah.” Alex wouldn’t look at her. “It’s just lipstick.” She nodded. “He can’t break the line, though. Trust me, we’re nine seasons deep, and I’ve watched almost every episode at least three times, not to mention director’s commentary.” “‘Almost’?” Frankie asked. Mal shrugged and kept picking at her collar. “There are a couple episodes that –.” Before she could finish that thought, Frankie yelped. “Cops!” Tom started to slow down. “Fuck no, man! Don’t pull over!” Alex’s eyes widened. Tom chanced a look over at Frankie, to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. “You pull over, they ain’t letting Mr. No Night License over here drive home, and they sure as shit aren’t letting you stop at Wal-Mart first. Then what? They take us back to our parents’ places, Mal’s art project eventually shits the bed, and I’ve seen this fucking movie, man. I’m the ethnic kid, I’m dyin’ first.” “Final girl!” Mal proclaimed proudly. Frankie slung his arm over the headrest and looked back at her. “You a virgin?” Mal shouted “rude!” just as Tom was yelling “fine!” He gunned it, the rumble of the engine almost drowning out the wailing siren behind them. Alex’s head jerked back and connected with the headrest, hard. He shouted. “Don’t you piss!” Frankie said. “Shut the fuck up, Frankie.” Tom’s knuckles were so white they almost shined in the dark. Frankie shrugged and went silent. The flashing lights drew closer. Mal sighed, making sure Tom could hear it. “Well, if our other voice of reason is being silenced, I guess it’s left to me to point out your twenty-year-old four-cylinder isn’t gonna outrace the cops.” “I know.” Mal took a long look at Tom, then shrugged. He’d never steered them wrong before.

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Tom navigated the Camry, whose paint job was fortunately the color of rust, around a sharp curve. His shoulder smacked against the window from the force. His D&D group’s seatbelts strained. After the curve, he put the car in neutral, killed the lights, applied significant pressure to the brake, and guided them onto the grass, their wheels churning up mud as they passed through a gap in the trees his family had driven through for a picnic last month. He parked, turned off the car. “You – ” Frankie began. “Shh,” Tom hissed. They sat in silence. The cop car whipped around the corner and kept driving. Soon enough it was out of sight. Tom held up a hand for continued silence. He counted off a minute in his head, then turned the car on again and drove back to the road, heading toward town. Frankie looked at Tom. “Can I talk?” Tom nodded. “You, sir, are a fucking genius.” Frankie held his face in his hands. “Fuck.” Tom ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s go to Wal-Mart.” Mal laughed so hard her face hurt. The others were looking at her. “What?” she said. “I mean, if someone’s saying that sentence to me that gravely, my life has gotten pretty fucked.” She laughed again. Alex shook his head. “You’re messed up.” Mal cocked an eyebrow. “Slow learner, eh?” # Frankie held the box of silver plated dinnerware. “Um, I don’t think a butter knife is gonna cut it.” Mal rolled her eyes. “Worst pun ever.” “We may be OK with just the forks.” They all looked at Tom. “What?” Mal raised her eyebrows. “You’re just gonna fork a horned devil to death?” “You got a better plan?” No one said anything. Tom grabbed the box from Frankie. “Pick up a couple more of these. Most of my parents’ cutlery is in a puddle on the living room floor now, and I’d rather not explain to my mom why we’re fresh out of forks.” Frankie took three more sets off the shelf and looked questioningly at Tom, who nodded. “OK, let’s get out of here. Don’t let me forget to validate my parking.” They didn’t. n

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Exits and Entrances Words by Cameron DeOrdio

Taylor’s eyes wandered from Dr. Charles, who was addressing the cast and crew at the edge of the stage, to his own feet to anywhere else. Dr. Charles stood a few feet in front of the dent that Taylor knew they would have to buff out at the next day’s work call. Taylor looked greenish. The other students sat in clusters of three or four throughout the first few rows of the auditorium, but Taylor kept apart. Just once, his gaze landed on the dent, the harsh gray-white scrapes against the near-perfect black. He felt bile in his throat and tears in his eyes. He looked away as quickly as he could. # A few days later, the dent and scrapes had disappeared. Lines had been reassigned. The program had been changed. They’d removed an entry on the cast page, added a brief section – a couple paragraphs – in the middle. Opening night, postponed by a week, was three days away. Peter set his laptop down on the counter in the boys’ dressing room. “Hey, have you guys seen ‘Smell Yo Dick’?” Responses varied, but a sufficient number of “no”s encouraged Peter to bring up the YouTube video. Guys who hadn’t seen it before crowded around, while those who had sang along with the chorus through laughter. “Why you comin’ home five in the mo’n’? Somethin’s goin’ on, can I smell yo’ diiick? Don’t play me like a fool, ’cause that ain’t cool. So what you need to do is let me smell yo’ dick.” Taylor sat in the corner at his section of the mirror, carefully adjusting his too-big purple suit jacket while studying his script. Some guys clapped along, some threw balled up socks at each other, and some just laughed. Peter picked up someone’s shaving cream and started singing the male solo part (“Smell my dick? Wait a minute, hold up!”) into his makeshift microphone, prompting fits of laughter from most everyone. In the middle of Peter’s performance, Taylor slammed his script onto the counter and stood up, scraping his chair across the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Taylor said. “Are you kidding me? This? Now?” “We’re just trying to – ” Peter began. “Yeah. Whatever.” Taylor grabbed up his script and the rest of his costume pieces and left for the green room. Peter watched the door swing shut. “What’s wrong with him?” One of the boys looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Really?” “You know what I mean!” “We all have our ways, I guess.”

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“Yeah, I guess.” Peter smiled. “Just nobody drop the M word, OK? Wouldn’t want anything going wrong.” “You’re sick.” Peter shrugged. “Someone’s gotta lighten the mood. This is supposed to be a comedy, right?” # Notes that night were brutal. Taylor knew he’d been visibly out of it throughout the run. He’d missed cues by whole seconds and at one point made an entrance half in one costume and half in another. “Just remember, Peter, it’s ‘my brother on his blessing,’ not in. I know, it’s weird, but you’ve been dropping that for a while now.” Dr. Charles sat at a desk in front of the stage, a yellow legal pad on his lap. He flipped through it for a moment. “Well, that’s all I have for tonight. Great run, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Cast and crew began pushing themselves back from the edge of the stage, standing, heading toward dressing rooms or, for the techies, the places in the auditorium where they kept their things. “Oh, and Taylor?” He looked back over his shoulder, stopping just before he would have disappeared in the left wing. “Yeah?” “After you get dressed, I’d like to talk to you.” “OK. Sure.” # “Are you OK?” Everyone else had left. Dr. Charles had waited for the last few techies to trickle out, making small talk in the meantime. “I’ll be fine.” Dr. Charles looked into Taylor’s face, trying to catch his eye, but the boy’s attention never left his own hands in his lap. “I know what happened is very sad, very tragic, but …” Dr. Charles paused, searching for something he could say to counterbalance the horrible burden the first half of his sentence described. “But we can’t give up,” he finished weakly. “Show must go on,” Taylor mumbled. “Yes. But that’s not just a cliché. Without this, without art, things like Ju – things like this – would crush us.” “Mhm.” “I’m sorry.” “Mhm.” “I don’t know what else to tell you.” Dr. Charles uncrossed his legs, tugged on his scarf. “I guess you should just try to find some joy in this. There is a lot of joy in this show, in your character in particular, and I think if you can find that, it’ll help you a lot.”

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“Yeah, maybe.” “I mean you as a person.” “Yeah, I got you.” “But it would bring some extra life to Touchstone, as well.” He smiled. Taylor nodded. After a moment’s pause, he looked up at Dr. Charles. “So, can I go?” Dr. Charles looked into Taylor’s eyes. “Yes, you can go. If you ever need to talk, my door is open.” “Mhm.” Taylor slung his backpack up off the floor and over his shoulder. He was in the doorway headed outside before Dr. Charles spoke again. “Hey, Taylor.” “Yes?” “You know …” Taylor bit the inside of his cheek, bracing for what he was sure would come next. “You know, it’s not your f – ” Taylor let the door slam shut behind him. # As always, they ran the curtain call at the end of their final dress rehearsal, the night before open. Dr. Charles waved his hands left and right, coaching actors who had never taken a company bow minus one. “You have to leave enough room,” he said, running a hand through his perfect hair. “If the gap isn’t significant enough, people will just think it’s a mistake, that you don’t know what you’re doing. This is a tribute, guys. Let’s get it right.” He waved his free hand. “Again. From ‘as we do trust.’” The actors resumed their marks for the show’s closing seconds. One, his arm around another’s shoulders, boomed, “As we do trust they’ll end, in true delights.” The lights went down, then up again. Dr. Charles applauded. Pairs of actors took their bows, then, as one, they flowed forward. The lesser lords shifted toward the wings. Peter and Taylor crossed paths, finding their ways not far left and right, respectively, of center stage. Taylor’s foot landed where the light had a little more than a week before. He remembered the horrible scraping noise it had made as its poorly fastened clamp slipped the bar. The thup thup thup of the safety cable – hanging loose around the light, now sliding very, very fast across the bar. Taylor stepped forward, over where Justin’s blood had formed a puddle. He remembered the mop the janitor had used to clean it up, the mop he’d seen in a dumpster the next morning. His heart beat hard, unlike Justin’s. Taylor found his place along the front edge of the stage, right of the gap they’d left. He remembered how Justin’s knees had hit the floor, followed immediately by the rest of him: tckump. The fingers on Taylor’s right hand entwined with Amelia’s. His left remained empty. He lifted his hands with Amelia’s, with everyone else’s. His left arm swept upward through the space where Justin would have been. His right jerked up, too, his elbow knocking against Amelia’s. He felt a quiver begin in his lip, and he clenched his jaw. He felt a painful pressure behind his eyes, and he closed them tight.

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Amelia’s hand began to pull his down, and he bent at the waist for the final bow. He straightened up. Dr. Charles’s applause stopped. “Good,” he said. “Good job.” He twirled his finger in the air. “Again. ‘As we do trust.’” # On opening night, Taylor walked into the lobby two hours before curtain. Maybe he’d forgotten what Dr. Charles had said at the emergency cast-and-crew meeting, or maybe he just hadn’t expected it to have gone up so far ahead of time. For whatever reason, Taylor was not prepared when he encountered a 12-by-16 photograph of Justin. He smiled crookedly out from within a wreath of roses that someone – probably Dr. Charles – had hung around the frame. Justin wore a white dress shirt and black tie. His dark hair was combed and gelled, more tended to than Taylor had ever seen it. This was probably his senior picture from high school. He looked no younger than when Taylor had last seen him. So young. Barely younger than Taylor was. He wondered if the show would still be going up tonight if it had been him, with his bigger part, instead of Justin. He wondered why it hadn’t been. He wondered what Justin would be doing right now if Taylor had gone to another school, or if Taylor had ever done a light hang before, or if someone had given him better instructions than “it’s pretty straightforward” before letting him set the clamp. Maybe if Jaques de Boys didn’t need to give his speech from center stage, all of this could’ve been avoided. Maybe if Taylor hadn’t countered upstage to accommodate Justin, it would’ve been him, or no one, just the stage with a bigger dent. Taylor lifted his head from his wet forearms, which rested on cool floor tiles. He didn’t remember falling or beginning to cry. His knees hurt. His chest felt like it was tearing apart, and he was panting. # About three hours later, Taylor was grinning broadly, one eye blinded by a light overhead, the other fixed on Amelia, portraying Audrey. “I am not a slut,” she said, “though I thank the gods I am foul.” “Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness,” he said to her, smirking at the audience and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow. “Sluttishness may come hereafter.” Laughter ricocheted off the walls, rocking people in their seats, forcing Taylor to pause a moment before continuing his line. # Later that evening, the house manager scurried among the rows, picking up trampled, crinkled, creased, dirtied, forgotten programs, bundling them in his fist and emptying his hands as necessary, filling a trashcan with “In Memoriam”s. # Four days – and four shows – after that, the play’s run was done. As per the performing arts department’s agreement with the theater, everything had to be made just as it was before the production had moved in. Taylor spent a brief time ferrying lights from one end of the catwalk to the other, handing off the ones Dr. Charles preferred and presenting techies with the ones the theater had come with. The lights felt especially heavy. Their metal supports dug into his palm, leaving a red imprint after he set them down. He tried not to let the job get to him.

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Soon enough, though, he felt the familiar terrible weight in his stomach. Blaming the heat, he left the catwalk, swinging his legs over the knee-high black metal rung that topped one of the ladders leading down. He’d taken the wrong one, ending up not in the stage manager’s booth but in the strange little place from which the stage’s sidelighting came. The ladder ended about 10 feet above the bottom of the cove. From there, descent could only be managed by clinging to the bars that separated the lights pointed at the side of the stage. There was no way out onto the stage or down into the auditorium, barring a long drop from the bottom of the cove to the ground. Taylor swung his feet to the separating bars, sliding carefully down to transfer the rest of his body’s weight, and gained a view of the stage he’d never seen before. It was a strange angle. He was high up, his head not far below the highest lights hung over the stage, and his shoes maybe fifteen feet above the front row. The painted-black stage – the white-gray scrape marks long since removed — with its mostly-gone glowtape and spike-tape, looked unfamiliar from here. It looked somehow especially empty, no stage lights, no actors. Just one bright, uncovered incandescent light bulb on a skinny metal stand, the ghost light by which they all worked while the techies tinkered with the houselights. The ghost light provided enough light, for sure, but the way the world seemed to taper off at the edges of its small circle, seemed to disappear where the wings began, made Taylor’s going in the awkwardly designed pocket area especially precarious. Below him, below the bottom of the cove, the house’s gray carpet gave way along the wall to cement, a smooth, cool, hard area people could use to move from row to row. From this height, assuming Taylor could find his way through the bars to the other side, the drop would only break his legs. “Hey, Taylor,” Dr. Charles called up. “Hm?” “Could you unclip the filters from those lights and bring them up to the catwalk?” “Yeah, sure. No problem.” He went back to making the theater look exactly as it had when he’d arrived. As good as new. As if nothing had happened. n

THE WRITERS AND THE ARTIST Joanna Valente is a human who lives in

Cameron DeOrdio is a graduate of Sarah

Brianne French-Sorgini is completing a

Brooklyn, New York. She is the author of

Lawrence College and St. Bonaventure

master’s in English literature at King’s College

Sirs & Madams (Aldrich Press, October

University. He currently works in public

in London. She graduated from Rutgers

2014) & received her MFA in writing at

relations in New York City. Previous

University in 2012 with a double BA in Visual

Sarah Lawrence College. In 2011, she was

stints include youth league baseball and

Arts from Mason Gross, and Journalism. In

the recipient of the American Society of

softball umpiring, audiobook production,

her free time, Brie enjoys blogging about her

Poet’s Prize.

journalism, editing, and IT.

travels, collaging, and attending as many music festivals as humanly possible.

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