The last time I did stuff with Don was in 2010. I drove up from Atlanta to be part of "Burning Banjos 3". Here's an excerpt from my blog post about the event, and Don -
"...But perhaps the one person who catalyzed me artistically in those days was Don Evans. Don was an art professor at Vanderbilt, and would do eclectic and quirky art projects under the auspices of Little Marrowbone Repair Corporation ("a bunch of friends that get together and do stuff"). I knew of Don by reputation, but had never really met him until (The Mind's Eye Group made our public debut with) Fringe Dances (1986). He was in the audience, and afterwards came up and shook mine & Jason's hands with such energy and genuine effusiveness that we knew we had obviously made a connection. Don invited us to come visit him at the university, and offered up his resources to help us develop our work. One of our subsequent productions took place in the beautiful marbled lobby of the art building at Vanderbilt. Don taught us about slides, video, darkroom techniques, performance art history. We "did stuff" at Little Marrowbone happenings out at his farm just outside of Nashville. He loaned us projection equipment until we could get our own. Most of all he just simply provided inspiration and support...
He's a quirky, gentle and eclectic soul and I'm a bigger person for having known him, and when I heard about his "Burning Banjos" event (the first Little Marrowbone event in almost ten years!), well I simply had to make a pilgrimage and pay homage to those that got me where I am today. And pay homage I did - making glorious improvised noise to accompany a range of pyrotechnics and dance (thanks to LeeAnne's Blue Moves dance company). I hope this isn't the last time I get to "do stuff" with Don & Little Marrowbone."
Don always made you feel he was genuinely glad to see you. He inspired you to "do something!" Don was a gentle glowing example of a real man, one that LIVED life. Thank you Don for the dazzling explosion you were, you lit up our eyes then gently drifted off like smoke on the breeze. One of a kind, you will be missed.
Michael Parrish
God, quit trying to be Wes Anderson. We already have one of those.
A woman who was held in awe by male English speaking poets, my friend Hannah Kahn.
Signature
by Hannah Kahn C1954
If I sing because I must
being made of singing dust,
and I cry because of need
being born of watered seed,
and I grow like twisted tree
having neither symmetry
nor the structure to avert
the falling axe, the minor hurt,
yet of one thing I am sure
that this bears my signature,
that I knew love when it came
and I called by its name.
I met Don at UT Knoxville in 1960 when I was 19, two years into an electrical engineering program. We became roommates and lifelong friends. He never lost patience with me as I struggled over the years to understand art, and in particular, his art. I was fortunate to have witnessed his creation of countless doodles in real time. We were two-thirds of The Cripple Creek Boys bluegrass band at UT.........and of course Don’s old time banjo style was his and his alone...............
Fred Applegate
I was a little girl daydreaming in the back seat one day, when I saw the most magnificent vision through the window. A car . . . a wonderful car, shaped like a silly yet majestic head with flowing beard and curls. Inside was a man who smiled and waved at my awestruck face.
Many years later I was one of Don's students, only making the connection between him and that childhood memory when I SAW it -- the same wonderful car, now resting peaceably in his backyard. I will never forget him.
Ashley, you are the frosting on my Nashville cake. I can't help loving that damn show, and loving your recaps. Thank you!
Ashley, you continue to be the wind beneath my Thursday morning wings.
We painted together the last few years--he, the long-time professional, made me, the parttime amateur, feel like we were equals, struggling with the same issues on canvas.
And then: painting his personal proscenium, silkscreening t-shirts, decorating the fireworks tower, music, and the famous flaming (but safely) fireworks hats.
The Little Marrowbone Repair Corporation, whose motto is "either you do stuff, or you don't".
I remember Don when I was on the Board of the Ruby Green Art Gallery Here in Nashville.
It was his show on His " Doodles".At that event I was told were initially made as Doodles during his Staff Meetings.. Amazing Man....
Deborah Chadwick
Can't recommend CL favorite BEAUTIFUL RUINS strongly enough — we wrote about it last year in our holiday roundup:
http://www.nashvillescene.com/countrylife/…
I'll admit to being pleasantly shocked to find the book currently at #1 on the Times trade fiction bestseller list — the good guys win one for a change!
On the strength of RUINS I read Walter's new short-story collection WE LIVE IN WATER, which shows his versatility (some stories verge on the hard-boiled) while maintaining his empathy for flawed people who cling to a nugget of good (their only possession, in some cases). Onward to FINANCIAL LIVES OF THE POETS.
Also strongly recommended: that entire Walter/Renkl Q&A linked above, which is a riot. Hilarious answers by Walter. Margaret Renkl and Chapter16 are treasures.
A personal poem:RADNOR C 2004
The forest floor beneath our feet
Common pilgrims procession street
Unimpressed by ego's roles
Treed Cathedral
Enchanting Souls
I watch and enjoy Person of Interest.
I think It'd be even better if they weren't burdened by FCC/network standards and 22 episode seasons.
A Measure of the Sin! You will love it! We did!
Yes, I'll take that piece of over-priced driftwood with my $150.00 jeans.
Another Anonymous Irish Poem;
The thing that goes the farthest
Toward making Life Worthwhile
That costs the least
Yet does the most
Is just a simple Smile
I've been there before. They DO call it Cin City.
LBDR you beat me to it. You too can pay 3 times the Pier One price for the same trite knick-knackery.
Tobin, you don't have Twitter? You don't read Cream? That's where everyone found out about it.
And somehow, I'm guessing the chances of you going to a midnight show on a weeknight are extremely slim.
Re: “Local Filmmakers' A Measure of the Sin Tonight at Belcourt”
Hannah Kahn, fresh from college, was hired as the $100.00 per month poetry editor of the Miami Herald.
Some of her brilliant poems first appeared in: American Mercury, American Scholar, Children Limited, Experiment, Florida Magazine of Verse, Good Housekeeping, Harpers, Ladies Home Journal, Literary Review, Lyric, McCalls, New York Times, Patterns, Poetry Chapbook, Poetry Review (London), Poetry World, Prairie Schooner, Recurrence, Saturday Evening Post, Saturday Review, Southwest Review, Span, The Survey, Voices, and Yankee.
She made Grateful Acknowledgment to the Poetry Society of Georgia for: Grief Has No Voice (Jane Judge Memorial Award) 1951. Tenement House Mother (Conrad Aiken Award) 1960
Poetry Society of Virginia for The last Delay, (Norfolk Award) 1954
Poetry Society of Great Britain and America for Asylum which won the Howard Parsons Inter-national Sonnet in 1956.
Suddenly she became a widow, Frank the love of her life was gone. Now it was just Hannah and Vivian.
VIVIAN by Hannah
All things inanimate
because of her
are brought to bloom
By her own light
she brings a star
into a room
As though a match
were held against
a shadowed wall
she, by her touch,
can make full-blown
what had been small.
Like any Great Woman and Mother, Hannah took a job in a North Miami family furniture store. She stayed in the Arts by volunteering as our part time assistant poetry editor for our Florida Arts Gazette.
This beautiful soul left a void in our earthly domain when she joined the angels in 1989. I Thank you Hannah Kahn for bringing your luminosity into our lives. I think of you often.
You live in my heart. Love!