Best Local Artist/Performing
Mat Bevel
READERS' PICK: How to describe sculptor and performance
artist Mat Bevel in mere words...Now there's a challenge.
See, you really need colored lights. And a lot of moving parts.
In fact, you need parts that look like they haven't moved in years
and could never move again, and then they need to move,
these found-object parts that've been painted and reassembled
and mounted to the ceiling, or the wall, or someone's head, or
perhaps pedaled around the floor of a very large warehouse space
just north of downtown. Make that a dark warehouse--with colored
lights, remember--and building facades with stage doors and faux
windows, and an elevated stage smack dab in the middle of it all.
And into this whole kinetic environment, you need to add an orchestra
that's mostly invisible, but with a really odd-looking bass that's
maybe wheeled in (we're not sure about that part, but suffice
to say it's unlike any electric bass you've ever seen). Maybe
after all that, words would suffice. But it'd have to be a rapid-fire
barrage of them, one atop the next in a rhyming, rap-like toast
to all that is silly and serious and fun and unexpected and meaningful,
in the way that waking up from a really revelatory dream might
be: You're not sure you get it, but it's changed the way you look
at things, somehow. All that, and it has to be delivered by a
sometimes-solemn, shiny-headed, post-modern prophet who's sort
of like the Tom Hanks character in Big. Just maybe
then you'd have an idea of what Mat Bevel, a.k.a. Ned Schaper,
is all about. Or at least partially about. (The Mat Bevel Institute
is located at 530 N. Stone Ave.)
READERS' POLL RUNNER-UP--TIE: Linda Ronstadt needs no introduction,
of course; but if the name Mary Redhouse is new to you,
make a note of it. A fine and powerful vocalist who's been a heavy-hitter
on the Tucson jazz scene for years, Redhouse is a regular on the
Café Sweetwater weekend stage, where she plays with kin
and kindred spirits in the Larry Redhouse Quartet (LRQ).
CLUE IN: The Tap Dancing Lady on Stone Avenue, usually
near the intersection of North Stone and Pennington Street, is
a mystery all right. For years, as we've done our shopping, banking
and business downtown, she's been there, tap-dancing on the sidewalk
to music played on a little boombox. She often wears black and
white, topping it off with a sassy black bowler hat. We've never
seen her ask for money. Is it possible she does it for the sheer
joy of dancing? We can only guess. All clues point to the
fact that this sweet tap dancer is the truest of true performance
artists--one who pursues her craft with dedication to the principles
of art for art's sake, as well as perfection in its execution.
If you can find her, it'll usually be before the heat of the day
takes the starch out of us all. Some mysteries don't need solving.
They just need to be appreciated.
