“And Then There Were None” features an impressive cast and a very professional production,” said audience member Barbara Rogers, during the SCP’s recent four day run at the downtown venue.

The play, directed by Tiffany Wilson with a set designed by Russ Gross, featured a cast of seasoned local talent both on stage and behind.

“I really enjoyed the play,” said Judy Ashton another patron. “ The set was gorgeous and took me back to the Art Deco period. The actors were believable and seemed to be enjoying their parts. I look forward to more Shelby County Players productions.”

Penned by Christie as a novel in 1939 and then adapted for the stage by her in 1943, the play is no stranger to adaption, especially considering its two previous politically incorrect titles.

Designed as a comedy of manners in a genre this Grand Dame of literature made her own, the cast proves so believable I wanted all the characters dead by the end of the first act. It would be rather oxymoronic to single out one actor in this play of snidely repugnant characters; they all were equally up to the task of playing such droll roles.

From the opening dialogue of inane patter and small-talk loaded with innuenedo, personal quirks and mannerisms, the 11-member cast was proficient to point of making one crave murder and more of it.  Gross, who eloquently doubled as a judge, was merely one shining performance in this play about bores, blokes and hypocrites and their eventual demise.

Each and every actor, in fact, so personified their role that I often wondered in the back of my mind, whether or not Christie was parodying herself alongside the vagaries of British society and colonial history.  A few of the accents needed work, but overall, each character was obnoxiously well –acted and deserved their twisted fate.

“I enjoyed all the twists and turns, wondering where and when the next dead body would be found” said audience member Carolyn Statler.

Revolving about guilt and what Sartre called “bad faith,” the plot was itself a moral dilemma that made one wonder about history, politics  and just why corrupt empires die and fade away. To her credit, Christie, rather bluntly show us why:  it’s the people and their foibles, secrets and moral conundrums.

“I chose to direct this play for several reasons,” said Wilson, who also acted in another incarnation of the story 15 years ago. “The biggest reason being that mystery and suspense stories have always interested me… Out of the seven shows I have now directed for the Shelby County Players, five of them have been murder mysteries.”

 Several hundred patrons attended SCP’s recent four-day run at the Strand Theatre and the players are scheduled to return this October with “Inspecting Carol,” a Daniel Sullivan play, directed by Gross. The multi-talented ensemble will also stage” Twelve Dancing Princesses”, a play by Phyllis McCallum, directed by Keeley Payne in December. Next spring the troupe will bring William Inge’s “Picnic” to life for local patrons.

Formed in 1988, the Shelby County Players have staged more than 100 plays featuring purely local talent and this cast and crew typified the hard work, dedication and passion necessary to achieve live theater.  From props to costumes to an eye-catching set, this troupe of amateur thespians and their friends put on a fine performance and should be commended: no pun intended.

It was standing room only Wednesday night at the Strand Theater as more than 20 poets shared their work, written and spoken, to and with a crowd overflowing the cabaret area of the historic venue.

Chairs ringed the podium and people sat on stairs and stood along walls like at a beatnik coffee house to hear the cadence visions featured poet, Dan Carpenter, recited from his new book “More Than I Could See.”

His crisp, well–crafted and eloquently delivered readings opened an eventful night of verbal pyrotechniques and literary gymnastics as word smiths ranging in age from grade –school girls to grandfathers shared emotions, sensations and often retrospective written musings. This inspired music of words spanning free-verse to sonnets to songs swinging from sentimental to sublime was sponsored by Three Sisters Books and Gifts.

“We hope poetry night makes poetry more accessible for people who never thought they would like or understand poetry, said Barbara Rogers.  ‘It’s refreshing to hear poetry from many perspectives and all ages.”

Carpenter, a columnist for the Indianapolis Star, opened the evening’s verbal festivity with a highly conversational, yet, alliterative poem about a painter. It was a spoken song that began as a collision of clashing words and then evolved into a word picture filled with nuance, texture, color and experience.

He followed this with several poems stolen like fire from the headlines of the past recited with a voice and cadence that reminds one of Carl Sandburg, another journalist turned poet. The thirteen poems he chose were eloquent and at times thoughtful alliterative excursions brimming with well-crafted emotion, like the one he wrote about his infant daughter.

“ I am his poem

not because he has written me

because he found me

and sings me

and would know me by heart if he could.”

Another accomplished poet of the night was J.L Cato whose “Beneath the Surface,” was also a finely sung lyrical ode based upon a real experience with a painter. This work focused on an artist residing in El Salvador and his struggles to live and create amid war, poverty and illiteracy; both literal and cultural.

A similarly serious approach to words and the emotions they can generate was explored by Omer Brewer, a grandfather who shared a heart-felt trauma involving his daughter’s life. The near-death event inspired him to write and his voice still cracked and broke 14-years later as he recalled his sensations.

In an unintended, yet rather poetic irony, Brewer was followed by an equally poignant work by a writer not yet born when tragedy inspired his voice.

With a rather brave face and clear voice, Danielle Eberhart, a 5^th grader, with promise who shared a sentimental lament about grief and loss: “I was once a dog.”

This tiny troubadour was followed in quick fashion by an eloquent exploration by local poet Gaye McKenney, who spoke of random friendliness and how it affects her daily existence.

Another of evening’s gems was a Shakespearean sonnet, written in iambic pentameters, “The Birth of Poseidon” by  Lee Sakellarides and read in a forthright resonant voice that flowed with poetic diction.

One rather exciting feature of the night was a group of budding student- poets taught by Jon Stevens of Shelbyville High School, who also shared some of their works.  Two of the more thought- provoking pieces were composed and forcefully intoned by Arthur Garcia and Larry Brown. Garcia explored the macabre world of the lonely, twisted vision of the serial killer who inspired “The Silence of the Lambs.” Brown’s poem delved rather poignantly into identity, stereotypes and judgments: both perceived and pre-conceived.

A final poet worth mentioning in the lengthy, yet inspiring night of word pictures and soulscapes was the rather sublime personal narrative poems of Sara Chappella, who wrapped her crafted vocabulary around several big philosophical conundrums evolving about the ultimate meaning of existence. Her verbalized songs were emotions inspired by physical landscapes that magically coaxed her into a deep questioning and pondering about her soul and its terrain.

All in all, and throughout the night a plethora of people, local and regional, waxed poetic across the emotional, philosophical, sentimental and even the comic-maudlin in an entertaining spectacle that repeatedly reproved an old-point: poetry is indeed a window on the soul and that songs exists in the minds of all.

Music on the edge filled the hallowed halls of the Strand Theatre Saturday night in a post-rock concert featuring three bands who took the crowd on extended instrumental journeys into sounds more often heard in Art-House venues in larger cities than Shelbyville.

This was not your mother and father’s rock concert. It was rather an avant-garde show, in the literal sense of the word, filled with musical advance scouts, searching, probing and exploring the outer regions of rock and roll.

Each of the three bands involved favored and featured essentially different tones, and styles of play, yet remained within the aesthetics of the post rock genre.

“Post- rock is almost always instrumental and goes from very quiet to very violent,” said Joshua Carter, lead guitarist of “Chiaroscuro,” Saturday’s headliners. “It is the music you would hear at the end of the world.”

This show aptly opened with “Sonoro(us),” a four-piece band from Fort Wayne, whose introductory song rolled from the stage with a slow hypnotic, semi-symphonic sound as bassist Travis Wilcoxson, stood, as he would for the remainder of the set, with his back to the crowd. This approach is another facet of the Post-rock genre, which seeks to some extent to focus on the music rather than the personality or glamour of a rock star.

This facet aside, the other musicians of “Sonoro(us),” drummer Matt Taylor and twin guitarists, Jon Parent and London Williams, soared musically and their instrumentally surreal melodies cascaded around the acoustic temple that is the Strand.

The six-song set of “Sonoro(us)” was a sparse almost minimalist excursion that was cerebral, ethereal and mystically imbued with sonorous feedback that soared into space and through time like some sort of cosmic music of the spheres.

Rising from haunting to sonic soaring sounds these musicians evoked moody and tonal emotions via strings and percussion alone, especially when playing an electric guitar with an old-school bow.

Most of the music and songs were like celestial tone-poems that seemed hypnotic and soothing as they swelled, contracted and expanded like breath in both time and space. It was through these tone poems, reminiscent of Richard Strauss, that  “Sonoro(us)” explored emotion via pure sounds.

In short, “Sonoro(us)” is  a band which aptly shadows the meaning of its name; its music is sonorous, if nothing else.

The next group “Metavari,’ is a three-piece band, also from Fort Wayne, which succinctly fuses the sounds of physical instruments with synthesized music from lap-tops scattered about the stage.

This trio comprised of keyboardist Nate Utesch, drummer Ty Bruneman and guitarist Andrew McComas played on a darkened stage with a video backdrop to enhance the effect of sightless sounds.

This band, in fact, was reminiscent of a fusion of acid jazz, trippy psychedelic rock and synthesized classical-style music all filtered into an ominous dithyrambic sound.

Their set was filled with songs that flow like water filled with musical eddies, waves and deep under-currents. It was a curious and compelling mixture of dubbed tacks, synthesized rhythms, beats and instruments played by musicians concerned with the feel and scope of music.

“Metavari,” in short, is a pleasingly different band whose often esoteric music brims with counterpoints and an instrumental poetry of songs as changing in tone as the sky on breezy day.

The final, headlining act of the night was Shelbyville’s own “Chiaroscuro,” the heaviest sounding of all of Saturday’s bands on this thought-provoking night of music.

This five-piece ensemble consists of Carter, guitarist Matt Rubodue, bassist Jeremy Hall, drummer Sean King and cellist Heidi Chestnut who recently released their debut album.

Like “Sonoro(us),” “ Chiaroscuro” is band that lives up to its name.  The word chiaroscuro is an old-school Renaissance Italian drawing term literally meaning a transition from light to dark and this in fact describes the musical tone of this band.

From mellow openings this band builds and then explodes into tight Expressionistic rhythms, twisting and contorting sounds on just about every song as they journey from the melodious into a maelstrom of hard-edged monstrous sound.

Another interesting feature of their music is that the band often builds its songs from variations on chords that begin simply and then cascade into tumultuous swirls of frenetic fury that haunts your head like a horror-show soundtrack. Repeatedly these chord structures build like a tempestuous leitmotif and avalanche upon the crowd like an apocalyptic storm of rhythm.

Emotionally, “Chiaroscuro” also creates moody, brooding and sometimes angst -filled tone poems of purely instrumental sound that at times can overwhelm the crowd: it is a nuanced journey into the abyss. The music pregnant with dread, suspense and dark shadows grows out of essentially soft melodic riffs like the masterful charcoal sketches of some demented artist.

Overall, Saturday night’s post-rock concert was a thought-provoking  , often moody and intensely melodramatic excursion on the frontiers of music. It was an evening that flooded the soul with sensation, provoked a myriad of emotions and conjured up many strange thoughts and experiences.

Gambit Disciples rock the rap at Strand Theatre

                Two regional bands rocked, rolled and rapped Friday night at the Strand Theatre in a concert loaded with energy that threatened to musically and physically burst from the stage.             
                Opening act, “Nuclear After Party”, a five -piece band, made its Shelbyville debut and “Gambit Disciples,” closed out the evening in a high energy encore performance on the Strand’s stage.

                Driven, and at times it seemed led, by drummer Warner Swopes, “Nuclear After Party” is a band filled with a youthful enthusiasm. Their performance has elements that are really good, in particular, the bass lines of Heather Kinney, the keyboards of Tiffany Swopes and the guitar playing of lead singer Brett Hiatt. The entire band, however, often seemed to lose musical focus and drift through songs, especially with theatrics that distract from the music.

                 Instrumentally, this is very sound band that should and will grow stronger as they continue to perform live and hone their evident skills. Vocally, Hiatt seemed to sing better when he shouldered his guitar and concentrated on his voice. Similarly, Tiffany Swopes’ hauntingly Cranberry-esque voice reached spellbinding proportions when she stepped away from her keyboards. Both of the singers have fine voices that merely need to be stylistically refined in further performances.

                Musically, “Nuclear After Party” peaked Friday night as Steve O. Suits, of Gambit Disciples joined them on stage as his natural intensity seemed to enliven the band, who in their last song did achieve a full, driving sound.

                All the band members, should in fact, study the stage performance of “Gambit Disciples,” a band with a strong stage presence exuding a raw energy while singing and playing within music designed and written to assault.

                Fronted and centered upon the creative intensity of Suits, “Gambit Disciples,” is a talented quartet of finely honed musicians who play with an unbridled energy and full, fat riotous sound.

As a group, guitarist John Graves, bassist Steve Webb, keyboardist Charity Osborne and drummer Montez Thomas played with a furious tempo that made one want to hop about, skank  and slam dance up and down the aisles. This is a very skilled, highly honed band that performs with a hard-core musicality which gleams and glitters like sharp edge of finely – tooled samurai sword.

Vocally, Suits sings, growls and raps out his original lyrics with a natural poetic cadence and an infectious intensity in a tight, controlled fury.

 Even the slower melodies of “Gambit Disciples” are played with a rough, primal fury that seemed poised to explode off the stage. Musically, the band fused heavy metal, rap, jazzy folk riffs and funky beats with a vocal bravado that recalls hard-core poetry slams. Repeatedly the musicians rolled out instrumental barrages like an audio army written and performed to enhance the emotional carousel that is the music of the “Gambit Disciples.”

 From the opening song until the final number, the “Gambit Disciples,” set of frenetic musical mayhem was a tight, controlled storm of sound that would have made James Brown proud. Even the audience was sweating under the sheer musical intensity, vocal bravado and pure infectious, yet hard-edged joy this band brought to its live and lively performance.

“Gambit Disciples” is a band with an attitude: one earned through creative passion and the ridiculously hard work of live music. They do not shirk either responsibility and should and do flaunt a well-earned Punk-poet swagger in the grand surly tradition of Sid Vicious.

Movie fans from across the state, nation and the world filled the Strand Theatre Friday night to watch two films,  the premier of “Blood into Wine” and a locally produced award -winning short, “In the  Deathroom.”

Local movie and music aficionados  mingled with fans from the Midwest and Belgium in the historic theatre to primarily to witness “Blood into Wine,” an often surrealistic, yet, realistic exploration of the creative mind,  passions  and dreams of  Maynard James Keenan, the lead singer of several eclectic bands like “Tool,” “ A Perfect Circle,” and “Puscifer.” Prior to the intellectually meaty epic of this main course, however, the crowd enjoyed a rather disturbing, yet beautifully crafted film “In the Deathroom,” by Joe Leavell of Indianapolis.

This 17- minute short was recently voted the “Aloha Accolade for Excellence in Film –Making,” by the Honolulu International Film Festival” and Leavell and his supporting cast, several of which appeared at Friday’s showing, will pick up the award later this month in Hawaii.

Based upon a short-story by a Stephen King, Leavell’s work is an enchanting, often spellbinding tale of psychological and physical horror that utilizes imaginative filming techniques in a minimal set that fuses terror with both irony and realism.

After this delightfully thought provoking celluloid expose’ the crowd next feasted on “Blood Into Wine,” a movie that leaves one both physically and intellectually thirsty for more.  It is a serious, yet, sometimes comic spoof filled with verbal and visual puns, about the trials, tribulations and travails of two dudes, Keenan and Eric Glomski, chasing, and fighting for and literally digging their dreams into  a  desert in Arizona.

For each man wine-making is a creative journey and this tale is an enlightening and visually sensuous exploration of the drives, passions and philosophic ruminations of two serious, yet, often whimsical men consumed by creativity and the hard-work, both physical and intellectual, necessary to realize these dreams and transform vision into an art: that of turning the fruit of the vine into wine.

As Keenan and Glomski repeatedly point out in the film, the art of making wine is both a holistic and laborious process that fuses mental, emotional, spiritual and physical elements into a whole. In a strange Gestalt, they note it is grains and grapes, gone bad as wine, which more than likely was the historic reason that cities and ultimately civilizations were founded.

“I’m often asked ‘Why do I make wine?” Keenan said. “My answer is; ‘Why wine? Why music? It’s the same.’”

In fact, this passionate, compelling curiosity is the leitmotif of the movie, which like its stars often finds levity, irony and sarcastic laughter mingled within the overarching metaphor that life is a journey to be creatively lived amid the chaos and challenges of everyday existence.

This collaborative venture, “Arizona Stronghold Vineyards,” entailed, among other things reclaiming the soils of a once desolate mine near Jerome, Arizona and by terracing and physically working to transform this arid, volcanic earth into a thriving and lush vineyard. In 2009, after 7-years of intensive labor their grapes bore fruit in the first bottle of “Caduceus:” a wine born of the desert.

“Great wine doesn’t have to be expensive,” Keenan said. “It doesn’t have to be pretentious and it shouldn’t be hard to find. It just has to be great and it has to be made by people that care.”

This down-to earth creed is echoed by Glomski, a seasoned vigneron, who relates that art of wine-making is a craft of many important ingredients all well blended, including a blending of visions.

“Good wine is not strictly the esoteric fare of the nobility,” Glomski said. “Wine is for the people.”

In the end, both Glomski and Keenan agreed that the wine alone should be the ultimate judge of their efforts, even though they did invite several critics to sample their faire

“We let the grapes speak for themselves,” Keenan said. “We let the soil and atmosphere speak through the wine.”

It was just this down and dirty, hands-on reality, often fused with ironic surreality and visual sensuousness, that makes this movie an intellectually compelling epic that like all art grows into a passion that flows in your blood; like blood into wine.

As an aside, it should be mentioned that Leavell said he plans to bring this comic, yet, serious and passionate film back to Shelbyville for another showing before September. Additionally, he hopes to bring a special guest (currently on tour) to town to see the fruit of his vision on the silver-screen at the Strand.

”A true artist marches to the beat of his heart,” Keenan said. “The vineyards are where that rhythm led me.”