As you may have noticed our tagline is “Handing Cincinnati a Megaphone.”  During an exchange with a local podcaster on twitter earlier it was drawn to my attention that some clarification is needed.

This blog exists to give a platform to voices in the Cincy area that I believe deserve one. For example, our ongoing series of guest posts, Voices of Cincy, is designed to introduce our readers to the bloggers and other voices here that I believe are deserving of notice. Our regular contributors are drawn from the local blogosphere and are hand picked by me based on their work.

While the writing presented is predominantly liberal, filling what I perceive as a huge gap in the discourse up here, that does not mean that you won’t see some conservative contributions occasionally. Our sister site in New Orleans has had several Libertarian contributors over it’s five years online. Again, this is completely my call.

You will never see Palin supporters or members of that branch of Republicans known as the Tea Party as contributors here for instance. Even if I agreed with their stance, which I most emphatically do not, they are well served by many other publications and media properties. CincyVoices is about bringing the underserved voices and perspectives to our readers wherever possible.

One thing that you will not see here is prejudice. If you want to share views that denigrate someone due to race, sexual preference, nationality, religion or any other generalized BS then you will not be asked to contribute. The podcaster I mentioned took issue with this, saying it is hardly the “voices of Cincy.” I disagree.

The conversation occurred because I took issue with his Biblically based stance against homosexuals. Sorry, but that is prejudice pure and simple. You can throw out all the Old Testament quotes you wish, but I question your Christianity if you do that rather than recall the instruction to “judge not lest ye be judged.”

Views of that nature, ones that denigrate people for their ethnicity, sexuality, or belief system are wrong. Period.

-Loki, Founder and Curator

Image: Skpy on Flickr / License: CC 2.0

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Wednesday, July 14 was the local premiere of 4192: The Crowning of the Hit King at AMC Newport on the Levee.  The documentary focused solely on Rose’s on-field accomplishments and left his off-field antics off the screen.  Rose narrated nearly all of the film giving some very in-depth information and stories behind his now mythical statistics.

The movie is gratuitous and fairly sappy;  however the scenic views of Riverfront and the beautiful Crosely Field are outstanding.  This turns out to be not a documentary about a controversial ball player as much a commentary on Cincinnati history.  The Anderson Ferry shot in the beginning of the film is a lovely historical moment and Rose’s narrative is surprisingly witty, poignant and, at times, just fascinating.  When Rose talks of playing with Stan Musial during his last game, the brawl with Harrelson or his respect for Bob Gibson; it’s like listening to a cool grandpa revealing interesting stories while on a tour.  He reminds one of the many small psychological tidbits that make Baseball a study of human interaction. 

The audience at the film was just outstanding: I have never seen so many vintage tee shirts  covered by autographs and I would wager most had not been worn in 20+ years.  Folks were jovial, talking with complete strangers in line and bonding over unique Cincinnati history.

Seeing the film also brings out amusing anecdotes of “where were you” and sure enough, on our way home, Not-A-Hubs told his story of peddling his bike up Purcell Ave. as fast as he could.  His neighbor had called and was making the claim that you could hear the Riverfront crowd from the top of Purcell Ave.  Turns out he was right.  4192 reminded me of playing Knothole softball for 13 years in Trenton.  I played all outfields, third, and catcher (my favorite).  I was not a strong hitter but I could field hard and sprint.  My jersey was #14.   It also reminded me why Rose is such an everyman and gives life to the longing appeal that we do have control of our destinies despite whatever humbling beginnings from which we hail.  The same reason I wore #14 is the same reason I read all of Kurt Vonnegut’s writings.  Pete Rose was truly Fanfare for the Common Man.

If you are a Baseball, Reds, or Cincinnati fan then the up-coming DVD is an essential snapshot of Cincinnati history.  The footage, stories, stats and legacy are all worth the price of admission.  You can keep track of when the DVD is released on Facebook and Twitter.

“I was the 13th player to collect my 3000 and got my hit on 9-11. I’m a weird dude.” (Pete Rose)

While the film was worth the $20 per ticket price, the AMC was not.  No signs told us to check our ticket in on the first floor before treading up to the third where there was once again no signs telling patrons the two theatre numbers.  If you hadn’t bothered to look at your ticket you would not have known which one to go to because you surrendered your ticket downstairs.  We did get the right theatre only to find it labeled with a different movie title.  Rose made an appearance and said a few words that no one understood because the microphone was crackling and for the first 5 minutes of the film the lights were left on.

Barking Fish Entertainment = A

AMC Newport on the Levee = F

Film Premiered in LA

Best Documentary in All Sports Los Angeles Film Festival

Welcome to the latest installment of Voices of Cincy, our ongoing series of guest posts by local writers and bloggers. This week’s guest is Courtney Tsitouris, the Cincy Food Blogger known as Epiventures!.  -Loki

I guess this would be a good time to admit that I have no idea how I became a food blogger. To some people, my mother included, the idea of setting aside focused time to write about food every day seems odd, if not legitimately certifiable. Considering the vast array of art and politics and other interesting things to fill one’s day with, I can see where they’re coming from. I notice, for example, that my friends don’t feel compelled to stand on stools to snap photos of their dinner.

But as it turns out, Michael Ruhlman was right: “The best things in life happen when you get carried away.”

I was once content writing and posting recipes as a home cook but I soon found my interest in food expanding. It wasn’t long before I was signing up for culinary school and buttoning up in a white chef’s coat. One thing led to another and I suddenly found myself standing next to Jean-Robert de Cavel with a tape recorder doing an interview . And I can’t believe I’m saying this but recently I took it another step further and agreed to be an apprentice in an actual restaurant. With actual customers.

This is big.

Of course, I had to promise this restaurant that I would not set anything on fire. It’s a commitment I hope I can keep. It was not terribly long ago when my lovely gratin of shaved artichokes and roasted tomatoes caught on fire in the oven, prompting me to throw the dish on the floor and jump wildly on the rising flames. (That was the day I proved that I care more about my flooring than my feet. That was also the day I risked my life for artichokes. I hope never to do either again.)

I don’t know whether this time next year I’ll be home cooking a roast or working in a restaurant or catering a party but I’m charmed to have such delicious quandaries looming. I’m also perfectly content to write about whatever happens, namely because you’ve been such amazing sports and such inspiring guests and I get such a kick out of your tips andfeedback.

To thank you for your support and to prove to myself that I can indeed cook without nearly losing my life, I thought I’d redo that roasted artichoke and tomato gratin. The recipe comes from the ever-reliable Tom Colicchio [Not an affilliate link]  and it’s quite simply one of my very favorite gratins –– so simple and pretty and perfect alongside almost any kind of grilled or roasted meat.

So to you I say this: may you find some shade in this heat, may your house waft with the savory scent of summer ingredients, and may you never, ever learn to leave well enough alone.

Artichoke and Tomato Gratin:

Procedure:

• Preheat oven to 375°F.
• Sauté onions in 1 tablespoon of olive oil for 15 minutes (or up to 30 minutes for an even deeper flavor). Onions should be brown but not burned or papery. Add 1 teaspoon of white wine vinegar to onions during last few minutes of cooking.
• Slice tomato halves and artichokes to same thickness.
• Spoon onions into medium baking dish in even layer. Arrange the artichokes and tomatoes over the onions in a tightly overlapping pattern.
• Drizzle the gratin with 1 tablespoon olive oil and add salt and pepper. Cover with aluminum foil and bake for 30 minutes. (Note: don’t do what I did the first time and use parchment paper. Unless, of course, you would like a little campfire in your kitchen.)

Reduce oven temperature to 350°F, uncover gratin and continue cooking until tomatoes are slightly dry, about 20-30 minutes.

Just before serving, mix 1/4 cup olive oil, olives, capers, anchovies (optional) basil and thyme leaves. Spoon mixture evenly over gratin and return to oven until heated through, ten minutes.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Courtney Tsitouris is a home cook, culinary student, graphic designer and the authorof epiventures.com, a blog about dining in and dining out in Cincinnati.

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Photo by Jason Bechtel

I’m sorry this is coming to you all so late, but over the past couple of weeks I’ve been one busy busy mascot.  I’ve had weddings and holidays and funerals…oh my!  But, I couldn’t leave you all without a season ending post from your ole’ friend Wooly Bully.

The final home game of the season happened back on June 19th, and as always, there was a little bit of butt kicking going on.  And, let’s not forget that Mayor Mark Mallory declared this day Cincinnati Rollergirls Day.  The Silent Lambs took on the Demolition City Dynamite Dolls, and although the Lambs lost 79-52, they had a great home season…and I was proud to be at every single bout.

(#19) The Black Sheep took on the (#25) Brew City Bruisers, and destroyed them by almost twice the points (139-71)  Bringing their record to 8-1 for the season. Pretty impressive, wouldn’t you say?

Photo by Angie Livesay

In my direct position with the Cincinnati Rollergirls I don’t technically get to watch as much derby as I’d like, but I can’t even explain how much fun I had this season.  Before the first home game in March, I’d never been to a derby bout.  I’d heard from friends how much fun it was, but I’d never seen it for myself.  And, as I’ve said before, once I saw it, I was hooked.

I couldn’t have had more fun as the mascot this season, and I want to thank all the people responsible for giving me the opportunity.  Much oblige to all the Rollergirls.  With a special thanks to Nik Jagger, Miss Print, Tank, Snotty XYL and most of all Jungle Lacy (Who made Wooly Bully from scratch.)  You are all the coolest, and allowed me to have a blast this season.  Thanks for accepting me as part of the team!

And, last but, certainly not least…the fans.  You all are unbelievable! To hear you all cheering for me when I walked out onto the floor is a feeling I’ll never forget.  Besides getting married (And, I’m saying that because I know my wife will read this) being in front of all of you was one of my favorite times EVER!  I can not wait till next season to see you all again.

Photo by Angie Livesay

I don’t know if I’ll write much before next season, there seem to be a lot of people out there writing about the rollergirls right now.  But, if I come up with anything, or anything new happens, I’ll be sure to let you all know.

And, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for an amazing season…I’ll never forget it.

-Scott Livesay (The ma-Scott)

Seriously?

Over the past few months I have met a whole heck of a lot of new friends. The majority of them I’ve actually taken to the next level, the “second base” of friendship, some more than others. A select few I regard as close as friends I’ve known almost my whole life. I feel accepted. They accept me. We have our differences, some similarities, but mostly we just enjoy each other’s company, enjoy each other’s humor, definitely enjoy each other’s booze and grub, and generally respect each other for who we are and our individual choices of lifestyle, however alternative. This is the opposite of xenophobia. Coincidentally, this is also the result of Twitter.

Rewind to two years ago. My wife and I are in the midst of a spiritual and emotional 180, trying to undo a generation of straight-and-narrow thinking and assumption-based philosophy. We found ourselves in a place where we were very afraid but willing to go to, to open our minds to questions, reason, and insight not explored often enough – and in some not-too-rare cases, not allowed – in our past lives. The smallest belief was tore down, dissected, and partially reconstructed in agonizing and humiliating introspection. This may seem glib to you, but it was huge to us. I know much more about myself now than I ever wanted to before. Believe me, the lady and I have had plenty of awesome, ripping good fights over our battling egos, but ultimately have been each other’s compliment through it all. In summary, our fight was one of a philosophical transition from “I know a lot of things” to ” wow, I really don’t know anything.” Profound, huh? It was. Like a kick in my big dumb head. But believe it or not, in this new found self-awareness, it turned out to be social suicide for the both of us. Gradually, we lost a lot of old friends, as if we were never friends to begin with. It was heartbreaking, and a bit revelatory. I mean who really wants to be friends with the walking dead, the zombified personification of discontentment? Not many do. But some people did, mostly because they understood, but more likely because they may have been going through the same I-don’t-know-jack-shit scenario that we were. Those turned out to be the defining friendships. Quality over quantity.

What you can’t decipher from text on a screen is the intonation and intention. I cut up a lot and I excel at leading a crowd. You may see the guy making penis jokes, but when you look, actually look in his eyes, you’ll see the conflict behind the mask: a man limping from years of being hidden from truth and reality, repressing his childhood, feeling responsible for his parent’s faults, favoring the gathering of friends for fear that moments of solitude would force him to look in a mirror and see himself. Alone. Afraid. Lately the mask has become a lot thinner, but it’s still there. The difference now is I see the conflict, and rise above it with pride: I’ve screwed up and people still like me. I’ve faced my faults on my own cognizance. I actually am comfortable when I’m alone. I can actually let people see my imperfections and survive.

I don’t take myself so seriously.

My and anyone else’s emotional complexity can’t be translated to Twitter, a meaningful social experience but ultimately a glorified text-message conversation. But it’s a means to an end, the end result being real people with real lives and real voices who have thoughts, a sense of humor, and compassion, and yes, imperfections. So my minority viewpoint is this: in this narcissistic, aggressive, self-deprecating bubble that is my freethinking world, I have managed to arrive at the conclusion that it is better to first handle other narcissistic, aggressive, self-deprecating people with some semblance of finesse, empathy and compassion. Of course if that fails, then it’s obviously time for them to become a responsible, contributing adult like everyone else. Especially if it means walking away from some meaningless talking points stand-off on a computer screen.*

I’m a self-inflated, over-analyzing snob that some people tolerate and a select few actually don’t mind being around. Most, not all, but most of these weirdoes have a bunch of shit they drag in from their lives or past lives too, but everyone is cool with it. Sometimes, though… myself included… we can potentially be dicks. If you screw up royally, apologize sincerely and people will eventually move on. It’s not worth it, because it’s not what matters. What does matter are the real conversations, not defining yourself or others within the confines of 140 characters.

So come join the circlejerk. Some chaffing is inevitable.

#iheartboobs

*Note: paragraph edited. Some words were too inflammatory and childish, but more important, not constructive to the goal of reconciliation.

Welcome to the latest installment of Voices of Cincy, our ongoing series of guest posts by local writers and bloggers. This week’s guest is Keith Banner, and O. Henry Award winner and the founder of both Visionaries & Voices, and Thunder-Sky, Inc.  -Loki

Mr. Thunder-Sky

When people ask why Thunder-Sky, Inc. (a gallery/arts organization housed in Northside near the Comet) exists, I normally tell them to keep Raymond Thunder-Sky’s legacy alive, and to focus the spotlight on artists like him.  But I also think that we did it so we could keep his name alive, as well collect the stories people remember about him.  Every time I write a facebook or blog post about Thunder-Sky, Inc, or draft a letter about something, or answer the phone or whatever it’s like I am keeping his memory around through incantation. Keep saying his name and his spirit sort of flickers, like lightning inside a thunder-cloud. Shakespeare asked the question, “What’s in a name?” I guess the answer is everything.

Dressed in his construction hat and clown collar, his work-coat, boots and jeans, toting his huge tool-box of art-supplies, Raymond Thunder-Sky was always moving from one part of Cincinnati to the next, in search of inspiration and subject matter.  From the late 70s till his death in 2004, he would set up makeshift easels in front of construction and demolition sites and then get to work.  His drawings, always done in magic-marker on card-stock, are of buildings being torn down and replaced by industries and projects imagined by Raymond:  Clown Suit Factories, Card Trick Amusement Parks, and Native American freeways.  Raymond’s father, Richard Bright-Fire Thunder-Sky, was a chief of the Mohawk tribe, and his mother was a descendent of an Austrian Nobleman.

No one ever really understood what Raymond was up to, however, and he spent a huge part of his life cloaked in mystery.  As we’ve gone about creating Thunder-Sky, Inc., we’ve heard all kinds of stories about encounters with Raymond from people across the area.  One gentleman called me a few months back, after coming across the Thunder-Sky, Inc. website (www.thunderskyinc.org).  He lives in North Carolina now, but back in the 80s, he said he used to ride the same Metro bus Raymond did.  One day he said three boys were bothering Raymond – making fun of him, talking really loud about the construction-worker/clown-suit outfit he was wearing.  In the middle of their taunts, Raymond stood up from his bus-seat and stared them right in the faces.  The guy from North Carolina says that cold, flat stare shut the boys up instantly.  Raymond’s face, he said, has stuck in his mind since then, as a sort of symbol of “standing up for yourself, letting people know you are not going to be messed with.”

Another story comes from a web-site Steve Kissing has set up to collect Raymond stories (www.raymondthundersky.com).  A contributor to Cincinnati Magazine, as well as a VP at Barefoot advertising here in town, Steve is on the Thunder-Sky, Inc. board.  Here’s the story submitted anonymously by someone who worked with Raymond:

“While in high school in 1974-1975 I worked in the kitchen of the Holiday Inn W.8th St. Cincinnati.  Raymond also worked there as the pot & pan washer.  The “Chief,” as he was known, loved to wash those pots & pans. This usually involved washing an entire day’s worth of cookware encrusted with dried up food.  This is all that Raymond wanted to do, and he did it very well.  We all understood that Raymond refused to do anything else in the kitchen  except pots & pans.  One evening,  the night dishwasher called in sick, and the new asst. manager ‘forced’ Raymond to wash dishes.  This was a very fast-paced job in this busy restaurant.  Several hours into the shift, the Chief was covered with food.  At that point, Raymond removed his clothing and ran them thru the dishwashing machine to clean them.  Needless to say, he wasn’t told to wash dishes any more.   Raymond was a very good artist with quite an imagination. He would walk around Downtown during the daytime before his shift at the “Inn” drawing pictures of buildings being torn down.  He seemed to be somewhat upset about the destruction of historical buildings. Many of his mid seventies drawings were on the back of restaurant paper place mats.”

Both of these memories point to Raymond’s dedication to his art, and also his sense of who he was not just as an artist but as a person.  He was complex, strong, and in charge of his own destiny.  He was living his art every day of his life.  Every week or so, we hear another story that illuminates his mystery, but in the end the beautiful mystery that he was will more-than-likely be his main legacy.  Even though he made drawings that were direct and meticulous on the surface, and even though he walked about the city dressed as a clown, Raymond’s strange, elusive charm evokes responses that seem to place him in a pantheon of characters that catch us all off guard while also making us feel at home, like Pee Wee Herman, E.T., or Edward Scissorhands.  Raymond created that character through sheer force of will, and performed in his own big-budget movie everyday of his life, riding the bus and walking from construction site to construction, drawing what he wanted to see.

In 1999 Bill Ross, a social-worker, artist and Thunder-Sky, Inc. cofounder, met Raymond when Raymond was placed on his caseload.  For some reason (perhaps Raymond sensed that Bill was an artist too), Raymond chose to show his drawings to Bill in a meeting.

“The point of the meeting was to try to get him to take better care of himself and to try to convince him to let his caregivers take him to the doctor and help him try to live healthier,” Bill says.  “This message never really sank in.  Looking back he had his own agenda for me at this meeting.  He wanted to make a connection with the world about his art.  This mysterious and very private man choosing this time to share something so deeply personal with me inspired and truly touched me.  I’ll never forget it.”

After that meeting, Bill introduced Raymond to me, and from that point on, Bill and I assisted with finding exhibition venues for Raymond and other self-taught artists with disabilities we had come across.  Eventually in 2003 we were able to establish Visionaries & Voices (V&V), an art-studio/day-program for artists with developmental disabilities here in Cincinnati.  V&V now helps many artists with developmental disabilities make art in two day-programs in the area (www.visionariesandvoices.com).

In 2004, Raymond Thunder-Sky passed away, leaving behind over 2,000 drawings, along with hundreds of tool-boxes, clown costumes, and construction paraphernalia he had picked up along his journeys throughout the city.  After Raymond’s death, Bill and I got so focused and diligent with ensuring that V&V became a flourishing organization that Raymond’s archive, and legacy, got put on the backburner.  Finally, last year (2009), we were able to establish Thunder-Sky, Inc., a gallery and arts organization dedicated to exhibiting and archiving Raymond’s work and maintaining his legacy through showcasing the works of other artists like him.

The inaugural exhibit, “Raymond Nation: Raymond Thunder-Sky’s Northside,” featured Raymond’s art, along with art made by local artists in tribute to him.  The gallery space is located in Northside, the Cincinnati neighborhood that Raymond grew up in.  In fact, an apartment he lived in as an adult is just one block down the street.  The opening event was attended by over 300 people. At the opening reception, a video featuring Mr. Thunder-Sky was debuted.  The video and other information about Raymond and the gallery can be accessed at www.thunderksyinc.org.  Since the opening, we’ve curated three other exhibits featuring artists that make work reminiscent of Raymond’s art.

The latest exhibit, “World Domination:  Antonio Adams & Tony Dotson” features the paintings and sculptures of Antonio Adams, another self-taught artist Bill and I came across doing our jobs as social workers.  We introduced Antonio to Raymond in 2000.  At this time, Antonio was a graduating high school student.  He was depressed and isolated, making art in his bedroom without a social outlet for his art or feelings.  When he met Raymond, something clicked, and as Antonio says, “He inspired me because he was a spiritual clown-artist and construction-artist.  He was happy being that.  He was very peaceful and he worked hard.”

Antonio’s brilliantly colored and intricately witty paintings and cat-sculptures are in collections across the United States.  He is the artist-in-residence at Thunder-Sky, Inc., overseeing the studio we’ve established in the basement under the gallery space, Under-Sky, Inc., an art-making workshop that occurs every Saturday.  Antonio’s two-person exhibit (along with outsider artist Tony Dotson) opens at Thunder-Sky, Inc. June 25, 2010 and will be on display through September 17, 2010.

Antonio references Raymond a lot in his work.  Raymond became not just an inspiration to Antonio, but a sort of totem-spirit.  In 2009, Antonio was able to create a mural memorializing Raymond.  Antonio did this with help from artist Cedric Cox, and high school students from a program called Artworks, which employs students to do arts-related jobs in the summer.  All of this mythologizing has culminated in the mural, which is on the side of the building that now houses one of V&V’s day-programs.  It is an expansive, Technicolor tribute that places Raymond at the center of a demolition site, with a speech-bubble floating beside his head (mimicking the way Raymond narrated all of his drawings):  “3841 Spring Grove Avenue is being town down to make way for the Raymond Thunder-Sky Construction Clown Amusement Park.”

Antonio says, “My mural and Thunder-Sky, Inc. are both fresh starts to know Raymond again.”

Back in 2004, during Raymond’s memorial, a Shriner’s clown chaplain read the “clown’s prayer” and placed a red nose on Raymond’s casket (making Raymond an honorary clown, which would have delighted him).  One of the stanzas in the poem goes, “As I stumble through this life/help me to create more laughter than tears/dispense more cheer than gloom/spread more cheer than despair.”

Raymond’s art and life have helped to create a cultural revolution here in Cincinnati – two studios for artists with disabilities, a gallery that showcases unconventional self-taught artists, and a gorgeous mural that depicts his brave life.  While we celebrate his legacy, we also continue to discover new and fascinating aspects of his life.  We also want to deepen our understanding of his art by curating and exhibiting new artists that embellish what he was pursuing aesthetically.  Raymond was and still is a natural resource.

Keith Banner, a social-worker for people with disabilities and a writer, lives in Cincinnati, Ohio.  He cofounded both Visionaries & Voices, and Thunder-Sky, Inc.   He teaches creative writing part-time at Miami University and has published two works of fiction, The Life I Lead, a novel, and The Smallest People Alive, a book of short stories.  He has published numerous short stories and essays in magazines and journals, including American Folk Art Messenger, Washington Square, Kenyon Review, and Third Coast.  He received an O. Henry prize for his short story, “The Smallest People Alive,” and an Ohio Arts Council individual artist fellowship for fiction. The Smallest People Alive was named one of the best books of the year by Publisher’s Weekly.

Two big parades in Cincinnati this weekend, the Northside 4th of July parade and downtown the Pride Parade, something for everyone.
If you couldn’t find something to do with yourself over the weekend well, like Mojojacob would say, “just go ahead and punch yourself in the face”

Northside

Pride

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