Autumn is a 31-year-old St. Louis native! Because she was homeschooled, Autumn has sadly never been able to participate when anyone asks the inevitable question: "Where did you go to high school?" Despite this impairment, she received degrees in Music (Voice) and Art at Lindenwood University, and has been a freelance photojournalist for several years. Autumn likes to blend aspects of art decor and fashion photography with journalism, and she loves to play with every imaginable style of creativity, photographing events such as, The Kevin Kline Awards, The St. Louis RAMS, Alive Magazine, and various boutiques and venues. For the last few years, she's also decided to tackle the writing profession, armed with a lot more wisdom and enjoyment than what her years of formal education left her!
Since 2009, Autumn has written three novels, two novellas and has been concentrating on short stories about ordinary people in situations out of their element. One of her shorts was recently published in the July edition of Bareback Literary Magazine, and she'll soon have a new work in The Rusty Nail Magazine. Although some people might describe this as unhealthily unfocused, she'd much rather be labeled as unhealthily curious.
St. Louis has a tremendous influence in sports and culture. And in the summer months, it isn't difficult to have a great time, for little to no money, soaking up fragrant parks as well as blazing hot, dusty festivals in the dog-days of August. Late night treats at Ted Drews and listening to games at backyard BBQs are part of our summer traditions, and we will soon be hanging out on Art Hill and rooting for Marty McFly on the big screen.
R-S Theatrics doesn’t play it safe.
The innovative St. Louis based theatrical company just announced two upcoming shows of its 5th season, and audiences will be confronting themes they might not experience with traditional theatre: Animals Out of Paper and Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play.
Yes, that Mr. Burns. It’s your basic story about survivors of a global catastrophe after all our power plants fail. The group of remnants reminisces about the First Family of American Sitcom. They decide to form a troupe and perform all The Simpsons episodes they can remember, along with commercials. Mr. Burns then takes us decades into the future. There will be musical numbers. There will be overbites.
In a city where there are endless ways to entertain your mind, you might not always gravitate to a Literary/Arts magazine. When you want to pick up a good story, you might head over to Subterranean Books or peruse the U City Library for the newest John Grisham. And if you’re hankering for a bit of the visual fine arts, you have plenty to choose from: maybe the hugely-expansive and recently renovated St. Louis Art Museum, or a cozy little coffee-stained basement exhibit off Washington Boulevard.
It has only been in the past few years that our culture’s poor health has become more acknowledged. With the over-stimulation of technology, people are seeing less of the outdoors and more of interactive computer games and friends’ Facebook walls. Thankfully, we are beginning to realize what a prominent (and unhealthy) role these can play in our lives. Combined with how our culture molds its people to accept an attitude and lifestyle of anxiety and perfectionism in a constant competitive atmosphere, we have forgotten the basics of how to take care of ourselves, of others, and how to listen to our bodies.
R-S Theatrics continues their 2014 “season of strange bedfellows” with Michael John LaChiusa's First Lady Suite, a stylized, surrealistic take on the lives of the United States Presidents’ spouses, from Eleanor Roosevelt to Jackie Kennedy.
When musical soul mates come together, magic ensues.
Such is the case with the close-knit local folk group, Letter to Memphis, who are getting plenty of press lately. And they are just warming up after performing at the Sheldon Concert Hall, promoting their debut CD, Phases.
Modern Art has shaped our society in the way we think about nature and culture. It started with the birth of Impressionism, which suggested that not only religious figures and royalty have merit in art, but that the average man or woman is worthy of a closer look. The Modern movement began as early as the late 19th century and continued into the 1970s, examining passionate and controversial subjects in society and politics. From Modernism came sub-categories, such as Fauvism, Cubism, and Pop Art.
Most creative people have called themselves a poet at one time or another. We scribbled in those black and white composition notebooks in our teens and twenties, (which we found and destroyed in our thirties). We sat in smoky coffeehouses (in the days when smoking was still allowed in public places—because, let’s face it: it’s romantic to write angsty poetry when there’s smoke billowing around). Our young insights were profound to us, and we had to get them out on paper. It was exciting to think we were part of an underground movement, a kind of mystical understanding that belonged to a certain crowd. Then we moved on to other things when we realized poetry—good poetry—is hard. But there are those who didn’t “move on,” simply because they knew it was what they were supposed to do for the rest of their lives.
It was my first paying acting gig: a whopping fifty bucks, which seemed to me at the time about five-hundred. But then again, as an actor working in St. Louis, fifty bucks is no small fee, as I think now about all the gigs I’ve done since for absolutely nothing.
I felt like hot stuff. I was a paid actor. I arrived at the gig with a bunch of other music students and thespians I knew from my college that had responded to ad like me. A retiring physician from the local Medical Centre was to be honored at a gala, and we were hired to be his “screaming fans” as he was escorted into the building. When the actors arrived, we were informed of our duties: scream your heads off, guys.