Andy Matchett & The Minks

I had seen Andy Matchett & The Minks perform once before at a RIFF fundraiser at the Cameo Theater. They performed late that evening and I had put away my sketchbook. I had so much fun at that concert just dancing and jumping. It was a playful rave experience. Ever since then I have been looking for a chance to sketch this band in action. Andy told me about a concert at the Social and I leaped at the opportunity to see them again.

I had just finished an afternoon of sketching people for the Mennello Museum mural. Angela Abrusci had posed in a beautiful vintage dress as she applied lipstick and James and Jasmine Barone had me in stitches, joking and teasing as I worked. She held a parasol and he was in a kilt. When the sketches were done, I walked across the street to the Fringe festival's green lawn of fabulousness to get some dinner. I bumped into Jeremy Seghers who was also going to see Andy Matchett & The Minks that night. He told me the group would be performing around 11pm so I had time for a Fringe show. He told me all about the show he had created called "Squatters" and it was about to begin so I rushed over to the theater. Jeremy told me the Social was on Orange Avenue just south of Colonial Drive.

I parked downtown in my usual "supersuprimo" spot and started walking towards Orange. I passed a cheesy mural which offered no inspiration. When I got to Orange I made the mistake of turning right to walk north towards a club I had been to before. After five blocks I realized I was lost. I looked up the Social address on my cell phone and went the other way. I was a sweaty mess when I got to the Social, where I was issued a green wrist band and ushered inside past the bouncer. I immediately saw Betsy Dye and Emma Kruch and my spirit lifted. Another band was performing and they were LOUD! I shouted a greeting to Betsy and she shouted out that this was a rare night out for her. Jeremy waved me over and I gave up trying to shout over the music. I found a spot where I decided to plant myself to sketch. I used the band on stage to block in where the Minks would likely be once they performed. Then I sketched the dancing crowd.

As Andy Matchett & The Minks set up, I continued to sketch. Before they played, a band member handed me some confetti. Jeremy found some seats and I joined him. The performance was pure unbridled fun. The second they started playing, confetti cannons sprayed vast clouds of heart shaped confetti over the crowd. Hair driers kept the confetti and streamers airborne through the whole show. Blowers sent streams of toilet paper into the crowd. Betsy collected the paper and wrapped herself into a fashionable cocoon. The lights flashed various colors on my sketchbook page. I imagined the Japanese animation that caused seizures in children. A parachute was unfurled over the cheering audience. Britt Daley had performed earlier that night and she introduced me to her mom, Gazelle. Jeremy kept getting bonked in the head and we laughed. Robbie Senior, a giant red robot from "Dog Powered Robot" invaded the stage. An epic laser and confetti battle followed. The crowd went wild. A wine glass crashed to the floor. A woman who had been sitting demurely all evening, was now dancing up a storm. The next day when I opened my sketchbook to see what I caught, a pink confetti heart fluttered to the floor.

No Dosa for You!

Brian Feldman staged a project inspired by Taco Truck Taste Test called "Dosa Vu." It took place at the Apna Bazaar supermarket which is located who knows where, someplace way south on OBT. Around the same time, Dina Peterson was showing a friend of hers from Boston named Ian the Parliament House Sunday Piano Bar. I stopped into the bar but the place was pretty quiet and Dina and her friend hadn't arrived yet. I texted her to let her know I was going to try and get a quick sketch at Brian's event.

The Indian supermarket was impossible to find. Nestled between car dealerships, the place was set far back from the road and building numbers were impossible to see. I drove in circles and got to the place about half an hour late. I thought Brian had said it was inside an indoor flea market. I wandered the aisles of the flea market looking for Brian. There was a booth of used furniture, a booth of pillows and a huge assortment of brick-a-brack at bargain prices. There must have been 50 booths but no Indian food. Outside, I looked at the event page again on my iPhone and it said the dosa dealer was in a store NEXT to the flea market. UGH! I rounded the corner and there was Brian, his girlfriend Sultana and Angela Abrusci.

Sultana introduced me to Joe inside and ordered a dosa for me. Joe stood in front of a cabinet case full of colorful shampoos and soaps. As he prepared my food, I sat down and started sketching. The food was finished before my sketch and Brian took it to the small table outside. There was a steady stream of customers. One man walked up to Joe and started whispering to him. Later the same man stood in front of me and started asking questions. "What are you doing?" I thought to myself, "Here we go again," and said with a smile, "I'm sketching." "What kind of art is that?," he asked. I turned the sketchbook around to show him the sketch and and rattled on about illustrative journalism. He frowned at the unfinished sketch. He wasn't impressed. "Did you ask permission?" he asked. I though, "If I asked permission every time I wanted to sketch, I would never accomplish anything." What I said was, "Who should I ask?" He explained that the store was private property. We continued this power struggle for some time, as I kept looking at the details behind him and sketching. I thanked him for his interest and rushed to finish the sketch before he called the police.

With the hasty sketch finished I went outside to find Brian and his entourage. They were gone. The much anticipated dosa was gone. I suddenly felt very hungry, but didn't feel welcome back inside so I left. I drove back to the Parliament House where Dina gave me half of her sandwich from lunch. Dina and I sang Jimmy Buffet's "Margaritaville" together into a diamond studded microphone and the crowd joined along swaying with the chorus. Now the place was packed. Later we all sang "Oh Happy Day" with our hands raised as we danced. I felt the warmth and fellowship of being among friends. Where I felt misunderstood, I now felt accepted. The dosa was forgotten.