writersblockwritersblock...or, not.

Recently, I got to sit down and have a thoroughly engaging conversation with several people about the nature of art and creative economy, of how to meld creative non-profit ventures with for-profit results – as it pertains to the artist (and now writer) residencies that the Pfister hosts.

One of the things that came up in conversation was how things like the Pfister Artist-in-Residence program offer a chance for the public to get a look at the process of art creation: of how a painting comes together, or what inspires a sketch, and they can watch this…

Making Music

A couple recently told me that playing cribbage was part of their secret to a long, happy marriage.

After being married for thirty years, “there are only so many TV shows you can share,” said Tim and B.C. as we sat with crisp, cool drinks in hand, waiting out the heat of the summer afternoon in the air conditioned lobby before they head to Summerfest.

Tim’s dad used to play with the grandkids, as a way of bonding with them.  A few years ago, during a family reunion over the Fourth of July weekend, Grandpa sat in the…

Coming Together

Floating around the room, dressed in white linen, her red curls a striking contrast to the layers of turquoise, jade and green crystal beads that encircle her neck and dangle from her ears.  She slices pieces from two birthday cakes, after being serenaded by a gallery full of friends, new and old.  Melodee, a masseuse and administrator for a healing arts education center, is in town visiting one of her best friends, who also happens to be the Pfister’s Artist-in-Residence, Shelby Keefe.  Originally from Milwaukee, Melodee moved to Tucson four years ago to pursue a new life…

Summer in the City. . . of Festivals

It’s summer in Milwaukee.  Finally.  We know the calendar has said it’s summer for some time now, but the weather simply hasn’t cooperated, as evidenced by the city’s wavering between the wet, cold of March and the hottest, most humid dog days of August.  Not only has the mercury risen and the sun come out to tan the hides of hundreds of folks cavorting on Bradford Beach, but the clearest sign of the season has begun: the fireworks have been shot off, PrideFest has passed, the festivals are here!

Boasting large cultural fests like the Lakefront…

A World Away (or, just down the hall)

While the lobby bar hosts an array of Monday night businessmen having a casual beer and some mixed nuts with colleagues, buoyed by a soundtrack of classical and jazz piano tunes, just down the hall and through a set of doors is the entrance to the Mason Street Grill. It’s an entirely different world, and easy to forget it’s a part of the hotel at all, were it not for the high-class service and ability to charge your meal back to your room.

Camel leather and stools and high-backed bar chairs with milk chocolate wood legs…

Lost and Found

“Hey! Keyser Soze!”

The guest at the other end of the bar shouts towards me.  He’s referencing a conversation the entire bar was having earlier that led into someone trying to describe Gabriel Byrne, and ultimately referenced the film, The Usual Suspects.  I’m a huge fan of Kevin Spacey, so naturally I jumped into the fray.

“What are you working on?” He calls out.

This happens often to me: Guests are curious about what I’m doing with a notebook and a name tag – it’s a great opener for striking up a conversation.  It leads to a…

Little Things

From the brass knocker that indicates a guest’s room number to the matching brass plate on the electronics charging box inside; from the intricate patterns of the stair railings to the wallpaper stripes; from the ever-changing flowers in the front hall to the roses on the carpet – the tiniest of details come together to create the Pfister experience.  Most people come inside and are so mesmerized by how it all comes together in its final tableau, the details are easily overlooked.

For example, the grand elegance of the lobby with its varieties of Italian marble, pink and gold…

Beethoven Meets Gershwin Meets Albrechtson

Dan Albrechtson is slight of stature, stooped as though permanently shaped to sit on a bench and let his shoulders lead dancing fingers across a black and white striped musical floor.  A retired math and computer teacher, his spectacles echo the days of computer programming gone by: large, square rims made of thick wire, but his tux and Scots-plaid vest are high class.

“Do you know what request I receive the most?”  He takes a sip of his coffee (“one sugar, one splenda, got to make it equal,” Dan quips) as he sits next to me on his break…

Piano for Three: Sunday Snapshots

Where: Parking garage
When: 7:30pm
What: Power-washing of the parking ramps. Motors running, water streaming, hoses draped across the cement. Cars with license plates from Kentucky, Missouri and Tennessee all sport bike racks. Perhaps for people taking part in the UPAF Ride for the Arts which went on over the weekend?

Where: Elevator bank in hallway
When: 7:35pm
What: The soft hum of the A/C reflects the summer heat outside as fans circulate cooled air.

Where: Café at the Pfister
When: 7:36pm
What: A man in a khaki shirt moves rhythmically through the space, circling…

Grand Cafe Mornings

He sits by the window, the only person wearing a t-shirt amidst suit jackets, colorful ties, and stylish vacationers.  Looking around, he says “I like the way it feels in here. It’s nice, but casual.” He glances up, gesturing to the red, brown & cream striped awning where the window arches, “this feels like the breakfast places in New York,” studies the menu for a moment, “and the food is really reasonably priced.”  When his fresh vegetable omelet arrives, he exclaims over how greatly stuffed it is, full of tomatoes, onions, bell peppers and mushrooms.  With the toast…

Pool With a View

“It’s a marvelous night for a moondance,” croons Marcell Guyton, guest musician at the Blu.  This sweet Van Morrison melody happens to be one of my favorites.  Despite the fact that the moon isn’t out tonight, it is, indeed a marvelous night.  The sky is clear, the lights of Milwaukee sparkle like stars and the view from here is entrancing: the Wisconsin Gas Building with its flame lit up blue to indicate temperature change stands adjacent to the U.S. Bank’s white tower; then the Hoan Bridge with the up-and-coming neighborhood of Bay View beyond…

Safe and Sound

I can’t see Beth and she can’t see me.  Even if we weren’t talking on the phone, she still wouldn’t be able to see me.  Blind since 1985 when she was only 26 years old, Beth Finke is a mother, NPR commentator, and author of two books (Hanni & Beth: Safe & Sound and Long Time, No See) who plays the piano, moderates a blog, has modeled nude for art classes, learned to sail and two years ago got to drive a Mustang at speeds of 80pmh.  This is a woman who just won’t quit…

Rick Week

A blond, a brunette, and a redhead sit at the bar.  But this isn’t a joke.  They’re lifelong Rick Springfield fans, in town for his shows at the Northern Lights Theater.

“It’s not just a show,” says Jeanne, the most outgoing of the trio, “It’s also the time when we get to see all our friends.”  The other two ladies enthusiastically nod.   It turns out the music is what introduced them – Jeanne and Angie met in 2001; Debbie in 2004 – as they would try to catch every concert within an eight-hour driving radius of Chicago…

Business Casual

Two men casually sit in the lobby lounge, amidst a loud, chattering crowd of entrepreneurial salesmen and women converging for an annual gala.  They sit in facing chairs with an immense, dark walnut coffee table between them, each mirroring the other’s physicality and body position.  Perhaps it’s their khaki pants and button-up shirts with collars undone that signal business casual.  Perhaps it’s their quiet engagement with one another as they confer over a clipboard.  Whatever it is, they are an unassuming presence, two apart from the rest of the people in the room.  While everyone else…

May I Suggest…

The art of the recommendation. It’s a skill born of the preternatural ability to read people and an intimate knowledge of available options. It’s why you go to your local bookstore or record store: the clerks who enthusiastically love what they stock and sell are guaranteed to connect you to what you want – even if you didn’t know what it was you wanted when you walked in the door.

The woman who walked over to the pastry case at the Cafe at the Pfister didn’t know what she wanted.  Tailed, on the other side of the…

All the Colors of the Rainbow

The weather in Milwaukee was (briefly) exquisite this week.  Temperatures soared into the low 60′s, the breezes indicated Spring was finally here with their combination of warmth and lakeside coolness, and the sun was brightly shining.  Perfection.  The daffodils and tulips are in full bloom on, what feels like, every city block.  In front of the Pfister’s Wisconsin Avenue entrance, tall, brightly colored pink and yellow tulips are ringed in the low, black, decorative iron that mark the corners of the sidewalk garden boxes.  All of this belied the clouds that were moving in, ever so slowly, threatening…

(re)Writing History

~
“No single man makes history. History cannot be seen,
just as one cannot see grass growing.”
~

When I told a writer friend of mine about this unique position, she launched into an interesting bit of historical trivia she had learned while living in Russia.  In the old hotels there, during the Soviet era, one would often find a little old lady sitting in the lobby, taking notes on all the comings and goings.  Essentially, she was hired by the government as a spy.  Now, here I am, decades later, chosen to sit in the lobby of an old hotel and…