/  by Michael Arthur

joespub:

Michael Arthur (Inklines) here, sharing more art we’ve been receiving in response to our call for artists who want to come and draw performers at Joe’s Pub. We’re a little less than a week away from the live drawing event with Balthrop, Alabama at Joe’s Pub and so we’re in the home stretch!

Today’s drawings were submitted by artist/cartoonist Jennifer Cruté, who I actually met a few months back at my studio in Red Hook. It was a sweet coincidence that she saw our call for artists and reached out to share her work.

Jen’s an indie artist who displays multiple styles and tones and they’re all wondrous, subversive and innovative. She’s one of those people who has talent and buzz and you just sort of feel like her vision is going to explode at any moment. It’s a real privilege to share some of her work here.

Jen’s self-published graphic novel is a stew of autobiography and cultural curating, her accomplished illustrations are clean, colorful and filled with character and her paintings are imaginative and visionary. I also love that she’s a subway sketcher, passing her transit time in pen and ink. Jen recently started a Tumblr page and has begun sharing her work here. You should follow her! 

I hope Jen can join us next week for the big Balthrop, Alabama show at Joe’s Pub. There will be draw-ers in the house—and on the stage!

/  by Michael Arthur

joespub:

drawscrowds:

Blind contour drawings of Ted Hefko and The Thousandaires. performing at the Red Shed Fall party on 10.19.13

Michael Arthur (Inklines)—Joe’s Pub’s Archival Artist—here again with a group of drawings that comes from the Tumblr feed of drawscrowds. Check out the cool blind contour drawings of musicians, friends and pretty much anyone who crosses the path of this sketcher… .

/  by Michael Arthur

joespub:

I’m Michael Arthur (Inklines), the Pub’s Archival Artist, checking in today— just short of a week before the big Balthrop, Alabama show—to share some more drawings we’ve received from artists interested in coming in and drawing at the Pub.

Today’s submission came as a surprise for me. The drawings posted here are from Adam Matta—one of New York City’s Musical Urban Treasures—a masterful beat boxer and musician who also happens to be one of the nicest people in the five boroughs.  I ran in to Adam soon after we started this project and happened to mention it to him. He quickly asked if he could submit some drawings to which I replied, “Wait. You draw?”

It turns out that he does—as you can plainly see from the above portraits and sketches. But what really fascinates me is the way that Adam has begun playing with ways to incorporate drawing into his live performances. Right now he’s playing with a camera and randomizer that takes his live drawing, re-arranging and layering them in projection during his act. But he also paints with bikes. I love that his curiosity and willingness to experiment are taking him into new areas.

Drawing, music, acting, dancing—they’re all paths for an artist’s journey and it’s exciting when artists combine different routes in interesting ways. I really look forward to seeing what comes next from a guy like Adam who’s already a hands down genius.

/  by Michael Arthur

"We’re Just here to help."

Woke up with this Poison Tree song running through my head. I made this drawing while listening to the song on repeat, Allison Michael Orenstein filmed it and Maria Cataldo edited it together. This song is a comfort to me when I need it. And this morning, despite all being pretty wonderful in my world, I need it.

I had a weird experience the other night on my drive home from the Playhouse.

Coming over the Coronado Bridge from San Diego around 1:30 in the morning, I passed a stopped car at the top, 200 plus feet above the water, its door open, its lights on. A man stood at the edge of the bridge looking out over the abyss.

The Coronado Bridge is the nation’s third most “popular” suicide bridge.

I was driving by so fast and it was such an eerie and terrifyingly sad moment. The bridge is beautiful but scary at the best of times—a two mile span over the bay that—at its highest point—seems taller than most of the buildings in San Diego. It’s a glorious view, but drivers can hardly appreciate it; the bridge, with its odd curve (designed to give it enough height and distance for aircraft carriers to go under it) demands full attention. The five lanes, suspended in the sky with no shoulder and no place to hide, make me feel vulnerable and claustrophobic, even when I’m not driving over alone in the middle of the night.

Despite the urge to stop and help, I had a stronger urge to let the authorities handle it. Frankly, I was scared about my own safety, alone on the highway so far above the bay, with a stranger at what could only be the darkest moment of his life. I just knew that the best thing I could do was call for help—get someone up there ASAP who could handle the situation better than I could—which I did. I knew this.

I drove back to the house I’m staying in, poured myself a stiff drink and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I had pushed the incident so far out of my head that it wasn’t until a day later that the memory came back. It’s admirably efficient how the brain can just shut down experiences that are too intense. There I was, innocently small-talking to someone about my stay in the San Diego area. She asked me how I was enjoying Coronado and my knees buckled as a vision of the man at the edge of the bridge came back to me like a punch to the heart.

Later that night I looked on line and saw that, responding to an emergency call—mine I can only assume—at 1:30 in the morning, police arrived at the scene to find a man, agitated and distraught. According to the report, the individual told the officers on the scene that he had a gun and then pretended to pull it out of his pocket and aim it at them.

So they shot and killed him.

I’m still processing the experience. When I told the full story to the friend who had asked me about my stay—the question that had triggered the memory—she wondered why the officers hadn’t been better prepared. But I’m not sure about assigning blame based on what I know. It may be that they were as out of their depth as I was.

It’s fucking scary up there and I can’t over-emphasize the instinctual terror and fear that I felt as I drove by. I’m the kind of person who tries to help and—at a gut level—I knew not to stop.

I can’t judge those guys. They went up there to confront a situation I absolutely knew was beyond me and it ended tragically. And that’s really sad.

So, I woke up with this song of sad hope and solace in my head and—despite feeling that I did the best I could and hoping that the officers on the scene did the best they could—the final line echoes in my brain, a comfort as I reflect on something that was simply beyond me.

"We’re just here to help."

/  by Michael Arthur

joespub:

Michael Arthur (Inklines) reporting again today from assignment on the West Coast. :) In case you missed the exciting news that’s shaking the internet to its foundations, Joe’s Pub is looking for artists who wanna come and draw the musicians, actors, dancers, talking heads and performances beyond description that nightly take to our stage!

Today’s art come from Children’s book author and artist Deb Lucke. The drawings Deb sent us remind me a little of John Lennon’s whimsical cartoons and doodles. They’re simple and wobbly, but full of character and movement. And, keep in mind, it takes a lot of skill and craft to look simple. Deb’s website has several galleries that display a wide range of work. It’s well worth the time to wander through. I wanna check out her children’s book too!

I hope Deb can join us on November 19th for the Balthrop, Alabama show! Do you draw? Do you want to draw at Joe’s Pub? Send us your work and we’ll share it! But hurry—you only have a few days left before we move to stage 2 of this project … 

/  by Michael Arthur

Balthrop, Alabama is putting on a big show at Joe’s Pub at the Public Theater on November 19. I’ll be drawing along with the band up on the big screen, Joe’s Pub has also invited folks to come along and draw us while we play. In honor of the occasion, we had everyone in the band do a portrait of someone else in the band. That’s me in the second square of the bottom row, drawn by Douglas Snead. I got to draw Titus up there at the end of the first row.

It’s going to be a great show with new songs from the band, old favorites and one or two surprise songs along the way. Come join us, either by buying tickets or submitting work via the Pub’s Tumblr page. Details here!

/  by Michael Arthur

joespub:

Michael Arthur (Inklines) here with another group of drawings from folks who have shared their art with us. In case you haven’t heard, we’re looking for artists who want to come and draw at Joe’s Pub. If that describes you, please send us some drawings and we’ll feature them here.

Today’s work comes from Anna Chapman who has a website dedicated to several galleries of her unique work. I especially appreciate the fact that Anna shares a collection of her classroom sketches. You know you’re doomed to a life in art if your school notebooks are filled with drawings instead of information that will be on the test. I also like the photo of Anna’s drawing illuminated by a candle. So many sketch artists, compelled to draw on a night-out are forced to work with whatever light they can find.