FINDING FINCH
There is a sort-of joke, told and retold, that people never really leave Augusta. The town, as it is told, always seems to find a way to re-attract its most wayward sons and daughters back to these familiar environs. In many cases it is true and, in the creative community in particular, we have benefited from those wanderers’ return. Imagining an Augusta where David Swanagin, Tara Scheyer, Will McCranie and Matthew Buzzell are not making their collective cultural contributions is dark indeed, and yet each of the bid this town a fond farewell at some point in their lives, only to (thankfully) return to familiar shores. We are lucky that way.
Except when we are not. Sometimes a talent takes leave of Augusta and, despite its obvious pull, stays gone. Success takes them here or there, this coast or that, and they drop anchor. I, most certainly, do not begrudge them that. Home is where you make it and, for an artist, home is where you find yourself inspired. So I’m not encouraging or aspiring to have to creative expatriates seek out a permanent situation in Augusta. I would, however, like to see the community extend an invitation to visit.
In particular and more specifically, I wonder why Augusta has not hosted an exhibition by Pennsylvania-based artist Daniel Finch. I knew Daniel – a little – in my youth. Our paths crossed while both students at the then-brand-new Davidson Fine Arts. But the truth is what I know of Daniel now is mostly related to his work, inspired not only by popular culture by also how we consume it. His often large-scale work captures familiar figures such as Evel Knievel, Bruce Lee, Tarzan and Wonder Woman in way that makes them feel like the time-distorted memory of a cathode tube broadcast. It’s a beautifully painterly approach to celebrating a generation that grew up in the video age.
But I do not believe his work – at least in recent memory – has ever been shown in Augusta. There is, particularly with some of the larger pieces which can be mural-esque, some venue issues that would need to be explored. Still, I have to believe that a Finch show, in a town where his name is still known and remembered, would be an excellent first step in recognizing and reconnecting with those artists that are gone but still around.
YOUR DAILY DOSE
I’m frustrated. What is worse, I’m frustrated by something I love. Even worse that that, I know I am not alone in this frustration that our collective irritation is a byproduct of a spoiled society.
I’m watching “The Offer,” the Paramount+ series about the making of “The Godfather.” I really like it. Granted, making-of-movies material is a soft spot for me and “The Godfather” is a quantifiable classic, but beyond my own preferences, I believe this to be really compelling television beautifully produced. I really love everything about it.
Except the dosage.
You see, “The Offer” is rolling old school, dropping a single episode every week. I realize that, until recently, that was the accepted model – a model I was quite happy with for most of my life. But binging has changed me. It has made me a glutton, a voracious consumer of product. I’m like a sugar-crazed toddler chasing that next Hersey Bar hit. It’s not pretty but it’s true. But “The Offer” doesn’t seem to care. It makes me wait. It forces patience. I know it is probably good for me – as good as learning self-control from a television show can be. But that doesn’t help. Not much. Not enough.
So I would like to offer up an old model as a new alternative. I will agree that dropping every episode of a new series represents a level of decadence and viewer entitlement that we probably do not need. But how about returning to the mini series model?
Before cable stole much of its thunder, and long before streaming stole much of cable’s, there was nothing quite as prestigious as a network mini series. It’s true, not every mini series was an instant classic. It’s difficult to compare something as striking as “Roots” to something as soapy as “The Thorn Birds.” But they were always promoted as important, as something that must be seen. And as something that must be seen, they were most often aired, in movie-length chunks, over consecutive nights. That’s the important part right there. Consecutive nights. And that brings us back to the streaming series conundrum. What if instead of once a week or all at once, episodes were dropped daily. While it stretches the release window and adds that element of anticipation, it removes that feeling you get on Monday waiting for a Thursday show. I’d like to believe we have evolved beyond that.
There is, beyond 1980s television, a model for this. The current Hulu true crime series “Candy.” Based on the established love-triangles-are-never-equilateral model, this Texas tale is giving fans a fresh dose every day. I’ll be curious to see if Hulu, and the other streamers, follows suit with more shows using this release model. I hope so. It seems like a fair compromise.
Buried Treasure – There’s a Riot Going On by Sly and the Family Stone
Recently, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers released a new record. I listened to it and then did what I seem to do every time a new Peppers record hits the streets. I put it aside and reached for Sly and the Family Stone. This time I went for an often, and unjustly, maligned moment in the band’s career – the dark and doomy “There’s a Riot Going On.” This record gets bagged on for a variety of reasons. Internal strife – both with the band and with himself – found leader Sly Stone recording and deleting parts over and over again. In the days of analogue, this came at a price and the tones are not as sharp and the fidelity not as high as found on other Family Stone releases. But the songs, song of internal strife and external anxiety, are a riveting document of a man watching his idealism crumble. After building a career on messages of peace, love and the family of man, this set of songs ejected that optimism and replaced it with the real pain of watching something you love falter. If “Stand!” was a funky feel-good farewell to the 1960s, “Riot” is a harsh hello to the nihilistic 1970s.
But here is thing. Beneath the all the hiss-and-vinegar the record is known for, there is a great – maybe one of the greatest – soul singer releasing his pain through music. And that’s what soul singers do. That’s their job. I love “Stand!” but for me, the far darker funk of Riot feels more honest and more direct. It’s a real work of art.
A Reminder
We are now accepting submissions for the Press Paly Songwriter Contest.
The contest is open to any Augusta-area resident with an original song in their heart – and on their hard drive.
The rules are simple.
- No profanity or slurs. Give us your radio edit.
- You must be able to perform the piece submitted in front of a live audience.
- One original piece of music per artist.
We will accept submissions through June 30 and open up voting on July 1. The three songs that receive to most votes and three critic’s picks will be awarded 20 minute sets as part of the Arts In the Heart of Augusta Global Stage opening night festivities. There, a panel of judges will award $500, $250 and $100 to the first, second and third place acts, respectively.
So let’s keep those submissions coming. Let’s remind people of the talent that lives right here. Let’ s build a fanbase for Augusta music and, just perhaps, be rewarded richly for doing so.
Send submissions to songwriter@theaugustapress.com.
Steven Uhles has worked as professional journalist in the Augusta area for 22 years, and his Pop Rocks column ran in The Augusta Chronicle for more than 20. He lives in Evans with his wife, two children and a dog named after Hunter Thompson.
