Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Clayton Smalley

By Elizabeth Piseczny


-I came upon Clayton Smalley’s work completely by chance, thanks to modern technology.


I was wasting time on the internet, on Blogger.com, clicking through random blogs, and one caught my eye. It had a simple layout, photographs on a plain black background. But the photos looked familiar. With a quick scroll, I realized that’s because they were. By some strange coincidence, I had found the website of an amateur photographer who lives in Plattsburgh. I guess it’s a small world after all.


Smalley, a twenty-four year old certified nurse’s aid, had set up the site to showcase the product of his hobby-- digital photography.


Acting partly as a sort of portfolio and partly as a way to share the one photograph out of many that met his standards, Smalley enjoys that there’s no pressure with his blog, www.claytonsmalley.com. “I just throw my pictures up there,” he says.


As a teen, he was involved in art, but never really found his niche, Smalley says over the phone during an hour long interview. With seemingly no need to stop for breath, Smalley described how he found his way into art, starting with pen and ink drawings of local Plattsburgh buildings. With no art training, he just “picked up a sharpie one day, and doing some goofy strokes of a street, I thought, ‘This is fun,’” he explains.

Soon, Smalley was doing sketches of many buildings downtown, but one drawing, of the Cornerstone Bookstore on Margaret Street, seems to be the starting point for Smalley’s career as an artist.


They liked it so much that, several months later, I sold them the rights to use on it as a postcard,” he comments about his first experience selling his work.


Despite the opportunity to make money, Smalley insists that art is strictly a hobby for him. His day job provides him with enough money to live comfortably and pursue his hobbies. Working as a nurse’s aid at CVPH Medical Center, Smalley helps the elderly with their daily activities, like getting dressed for the day.


I really enjoy it, helping out people,” he says. While many people pursue a hobby to get away from the mundane drivel of their jobs, in Smalley’s voice, there is a hint of satisfaction as he talks about working. Simply, he explains, “I decided I’d never take a job I wouldn’t do for free and once I decided that, it’s all been vacation.”


Smalley expects a few of his pieces to sell at an exhibit at the Coffee Camp that will last for the next few weeks, but he isn’t relying on that for much, maybe just enough to cover the cost of printing and framing.


I’m not doing the starving artist thing where I have to produce art and sell it” he reasons, “Because if I have to do that, there’s a sense of desperation in the artwork, I think.”



Eventually, Smalley made the transition from pen and ink to a cheap point-and-shoot camera. He explains the transition with an almost practical manner.


I drew every place I wanted to in Plattsburgh, so I stopped drawing. I know that I still can draw and I will sometime eventually,” he says.


The optimism and easy-go-lucky attitude Smalley has translates into his artwork. As I glanced at his work the first time, my eye didn’t snag on anything. You’ll find no gruesome battle scenes, no sweaty sports photography, no images of anything painful. The objects captured in his photographs seem… perfect.


Many of Smalley’s photographs are landscapes, vibrant suns setting on the silhouettes of tall, straggly trees. Each sunset shines vividly, melting over the horizon like rainbow sherbet, as gorgeous shades of deep blue descend on the trees. Every hue seemed saturated with color. Even images of foggy fields shine with an ethereal light.


Every now and then, a black and white image occurs, but almost suspiciously absent are people. Smalley does not show many of his portraits on his website.


His reasoning is simple: Besides not fitting with the theme of his blog, he doesn’t post portraits because high quality images are easy to steal, and people will take photos of themselves for their own use, so why bother?


I do (take portraits), but I never put them on my website. I don’t know why. I take tons of photos of my friends,” he says. “If you give away large resolutions photos online, anyone can just take them and print them off as their own.”


He opts, instead, for Facebook as an easy way to share the images he snaps of his friends, who have grown accustomed to the camera Smalley always keeps “on his shoulder,” he says.


But there is something else that sets Smalley apart from many other photographers.


He has no problem admitting that he “shamelessly Photoshops” his images.


People think Photoshop is a bad word,” he says. “I don’t care. Photoshop is a tool to make a photo that much more beautiful.“


But he also counters himself, saying, “It doesn’t make a photo great; it has to be good to begin with… I'll adjust the contrast, just for fun. The real thing is the camera, going out and finding things and looking at it from a different angle than other people might. It all comes down to, really, the physical act of having the camera and snapping the shutter.”


Smalley’s work is not restricted, not by his lack of formal photography training, nor by film and chemicals. He uses the technology available to him (a more advanced SLR camera replaced his simple point-and-shoot years ago) to enhance the things captured in his viewfinder, and does so unabashedly.


With all the conveniences of a computer, Smalley believes, “That’s the great thing about digital today, you can take 10 thousand photos in a couple years and it doesn’t cost you anything.”


Still, he warns, “It’s not a hobby you can throw money at and be great.” Smalley represents a new kind of artist-- the every man. With the internet as a resource, anybody can try their hand (or eye) at photography.

The 20-Year-Old Virgin: Taboo of Virginity in a College Fraternity

By Amanda Thompson

“Pickle? Well Pickle is the virgin,” he chuckles. “We call him Pickle because it’s his nickname, nobody calls you by your real name,” comments fraternity brother Buns matter-of-factly. Buns continues, We honestly wish he’d just do it already, like what is he waiting for?”

‘Pickle’s’ appearance emphasizes his laid-back attitude. He has buzzed hair and a scruffy, unshaven face whose 5 o’clock shadow has long passed. His blue jeans, hiking boots, and forest green zip-up hoodie are nothing out of the ordinary. He sits in an apartment reeking of stale beer and an aquarium, clearly used to the smell. To close friends and family, he’s just Dylan. “I’m from Whitehall New York, a small hick town,” he says, “Parents are divorced and my dad means well, but he’s a little out there.” As a student, “I’m a big slacker. Life at Plattsburgh State is “Typical college; drinking, trying to have fun, don’t really do any school-work.” “It’s kind of sad,” he adds.

To an outsider, Pickle is the typical frat boy. He parties hard on the weekends, hangs with the boys, and he doesn’t really get his work done. His appearance is certainly not clean-cut, but there is something that sets him apart from his fraternity brothers, Pickle is 20-years-old, and Pickle is a virgin.

While this may seem hardly shocking, earth-shattering news, for a fraternity this is the front page headline of the New York Times. “Honestly, we’ve tried getting him laid,” brother Brozo remarks nobly, “We’ve even offered paying a girl once and she said she’d do it for nothing, it was a sure thing and he somehow blew it.” “I mean, he’s not an ugly guy but he just has no game.”

And no, Pickle is not an ugly guy. According to Kylie, a close girlfriend, “He is a nice, funny guy. He’s definitely cute, has a kind of woodsy look I guess.” In terms of his virginity, Kylie says “I think it’s respectable. He is doing what a lot of girls do, just holding off until you find something meaningful.”

Another close girlfriend Amanda remarks, “It’s because he is picky, he could have gotten laid plenty of times by now.” Pickle has priorities; he wants a serious relationship not just a hook-up. “A girl that wants to hook up randomly, that’s not the kind of girl I’d want to be with,” he remarks.

Perhaps, girls are more forgiving. Frat brother Brozo says, “Other brothers in a fraternity expect someone to try and get laid every weekend. So, if you are a virgin they expect you to finally get it out of the way. I mean, he should try harder,” says Brozo when speaking about Pickle. Brother Bowies continues, “Sex is a huge thing that makes you a man in society, it’s like a primal thing.” He also feels, “If you haven’t had sex, it’s like you are below other guys.”

Buns can hardly fathom why Pickle is intentionally saving his virginity. “I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t want an STD? he speculates. “I mean who wants an STD?” In Plattsburgh apparently this is a threat of plague-like proportions. “You know Plattsburgh girls, always contaminated with bullshit,” Buns says.

Perhaps the best authority on the matter is the only non-nicknamed male friend, one who has been close with Pickle before they pledged the fraternity, for nearly three years. “He has good manners,” Pat says, “He’s the type of person you’d want to bring home to mom and dad if you were his girlfriend.” Pat adds, “He always holds doors and shit too, it’s nice.”

So why hasn’t Pickle met that girl yet who might steal his heart, especially with all of the mixers and social events his fraternity has? Pickle confesses,”Mixers are pretty crazy, but just not that social of an event. People don’t really want to talk that much they just want to party,” he adds, hinting a tone of disappointment. And when his brothers hook up with someone new every weekend, he finds it “Disgusting, it angers me that I don’t find girls and these people just randomly hook-up.”

As for girls in Plattsburgh, he describes them as far from contaminated, but thus far he “just never really found one that stuck with me even as just a friend.” He is in no rush and when he comes to getting physical, “If I like someone, there’s not much to stop me,” he says. Pickle also has little trouble ignoring the pressure of his frat brothers. “They should just understand, I have a different personality, different priorities,” he says. Until then, the anomaly of his noble quest for a good girl as the member of a fraternity continues.

Coffee Camp

By Abisola Mojeed


Jamaican Me Crazy”, is coffee from Jamaica that seems to be what everyone at 78 Margaret Street is going crazy for. It is within this little art decorated storage place, a community to store your ideas in another function of expression where you can showcase your inner self to the outer world, that makes the Coffee Camp special.

The Coffee Camp is a fairly new establishment started around the time of the 9/11 attacks when, Bevan Brady the current owner’s brother Austin Brady a cameraman who reported one of the most horrific events our generation has ever faced in New York City. Austin felt he needed more from himself “so he packed up his life and his then fiancĂ©, now wife,” Bevan adds. He decided to set up shop in Plattsburgh, where his family resides. But Austin didn’t stick around for long and went back to his career as being a cameraman so he entrusted Bevan, his younger brother, to carry on the torch of the Coffee Camp since the business was doing well. Bevan, who denies having any artistic value, occasionally plays the bass and is the nurturer of the most prominent artists in and around the Plattsburgh area. Ranging from students from the neighboring high school and their poetry slams to housing works from Clayton Smalley and Jessica Minckler. One of Jessica Minckler wonderful art paintings hanging on the wall takes a glimpse into Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken”, and instantly the rush of euphoria takes a hold onto you.

When walking inside of the Coffee Camp and seeing its half brick walls and the rest of them painted earthly green you feel as if you are walking into someone’s home. Couches surround the ‘living room’ area, walking towards the back of the shop where the Kayak is suspended from the ceiling resting slightly on the ledge of the middle of their small attic upstairs as your center of guidance. This is where I met Oliver Holecek, who was surrounded by several friends playing the bongos. Oliver is a sophomore attending Plattsburgh state, who happened “to stumble upon this place” when, “ buying reeds for my Alto Saxophone at the local music store,” he said. Oliver invited me to his room and shows off his tea drinking knowledge by pulling tea from his pockets plus the top compartment of his dresser drawer and begins sharing the difference between white, silver needle to green and orange- red teas. He goes on to say he enjoys the fact “that the Coffee Camp teas and coffee are fair trade.” Oliver is a very fascinating person from his musical talents to his tea and coffee knowledge. He wants, “to start a jazz band and play music there” in the future. So this is where the Coffee Camp fits in as a great place to meet interesting individuals who may or may not share the same views, but have the same taste in delicious tea and coffee, which makes the best conversation starter.

So if you are looking for anything fun to do in the area, Thursday through Saturday are usually the packed event nights where local bands and musicians express their poetic selves at open mic or as just a plan ‘ol D.I.Y. (Do It Yourself) show. D.I.Y. shows are typically the most fun because people of all ages come out and it’s the best way to hear local music done under one comfy roof and plus not to forget to mention it’s the Weekend. Don’t get it wrong, Monday through Wednesday are fun too but it usually caters to light hearted activities such as the poetry slams, chess matches and open mic.

If there were not a place like the Coffee Camp where would the locals of Plattsburgh be able to express their minds and their inner thoughts about their selves and their surrounding areas? So, in other words it’s like saying it is ‘A Safe Place’ for young or old, artistic to tea and coffee drinkers to rest and unwind from the outside world. Take in some local music and enjoy the company of the locals while consuming the finest fair trade coffees and teas around.

Art Becomes Life


By Bethany Waite




Looking through her thick, black framed glasses Katie walks down Mission Avenue in San Francisco. The wind blows her short brown hair into a mess, leaving it in a new fashion. She feels free. She looks toward every corner, finding inspiration at each.

Broken down apartment buildings covered top-to-bottom in graffiti, people walking past, and the bright colors in everyday life. Each of these gives her a reason to let the extraordinary artist that lives inside her shine. It wasn’t always this easy though.

Katie used to live in a world of complete darkness. She lived in total seclusion and isolation from the outside world, or at least in her mind. She drew dark and eerie pictures of deformed creatures, each were pieces straight from her imagination. Before Katie Alberry, who’s now 20, moved to San Francisco she used art to escape from the dull city of Plattsburgh. The city she was forced to grow in.

“There is no doubt that I was depressed,” she said. “And I never really felt that I fit in the way I thought I was supposed to.”

After graduating from Saranac High School in 2007, she moved to California to attend what she refers to as “the academy” majoring in Fine Arts. Very quickly she got settled into the life she was making for herself there. She had been released from the choke-hold Plattsburgh had her in through childhood.

Art has always been her passion and her calling. Painting, drawing, and animation are just some of the arts she’s involved in, along with writing poetry and short stories. Any activity involving creativity, Katie’s imagination can absorb and make original. It comes from her mother, Meg Alberry. She never went to art school or sold her paintings, but she enjoyed making watercolor and charcoal pieces,

“I wasn’t good at it,” Meg admitted. “But I did it anyway.” She finishes the sentence and takes a bite of the Chinese food we ordered. It’s like I’m sitting with a futuristic Katie. Meg loves every part of Katie’s art, believing she’s always been ahead of herself.

“Katie was always ahead of herself, full of wisdom,” she said. “All of her art tells a story.” She tells me about some of Katie’s intricate paintings of monstrous creatures, “They all had statements in them you had to find yourself,” she said.


There was a darkness that lived in her. It was a part of her that she couldn’t seem to get passed while stuck in her small hometown,

“I could relate to that darkness,” Katie said. “And even though I didn’t want it, it was also a part of me. Once I left Plattsburgh I was immersed in a world I felt I belonged to.”

Katie was always more mature than expected at the high school level. She longed to discover new territory and seek out the more diverse cultures in the world. A great influence in her life was Noreen Sadue, her high school art teacher. Sadue had great expectations for Katie’s future.

“She is a unique, caring and sensitive person,” Sadue remarked, in a letter of recommendation. “Perhaps her most obvious strength comes from her maturity, which allows her to feel comfortable expressing her true self at an age where insecurity is more common.”

The expectations Sadue had for Katie came true, but never stopped growing. She expanded. San Francisco opened her to the rest of the world, which she felt she had been missing out on.

She gets off the bus and walks through Yerba Buena Park entering the Samovar Tea Lounge. Relaxed, she takes off her black coat, revealing a thrift shop sweatshirt that matches perfectly with her dark blue jeans.

She orders a caffeinated dark tea, sips the steaming liquid down slowly and breathes fresh air. She was enlightened after moving to San Francisco. A new part of herself was exposed, like a wound. Except this exposure cured her pain. Her paintings are still full of monstrous creatures, evoking raw feelings. But her art is also full of bright colors and expresses her insight and wisdom.

Her life is art. Everyday she’s engulfed and enchanted in the art world while attending a community college in the city. In the fall of 2010, she’ll be attending San Francisco State, taking her art to an even higher level.

Katie Alberry has transformed herself into an aspiring artist. One day, the world will know her name and her motto,

“Welcome to the future…where art becomes life.”


An American Kid in Darfur: A profile on Ryan Spencer Reed

An American Kid in Darfur: A profile on Ryan Spencer Reed

By Nicholas Persad


Youth and Darfur. These two words only seem to be linked when you think of the thousands of African children who have been displaced or killed by the tragic genocide that has been rocking the eastern African country of Sudan for almost a decade. However, in 2002, another type of kid was in Darfur. He was American, white, broke and fresh out of college. He was there to make a difference.


Ryan Spencer Reed didn’t always want to take pictures. He wanted to save lives. He wanted to be a doctor. When he entered university at Calvin College in Michigan, his home state, his prime focus was getting a bachelor’s degree that would set him up on his medicinal path. Photography, at the time, wasn’t a big deal for him. It was a hobby. It was only in the uncertainty of his sophomore year that a switch occurred. Reed realized he was more fascinated by the study of the human body than the actual practice. “The real practice of medicine in this country is full of compromises,” Reed said as his voice got somewhat stern and louder. “I knew I was going to be crushed by that.”


It was then that he morphed his hobby into his future career. His school, however, didn’t offer photography as a major. “What they allowed me to do was basically write my own major,” Reed said. “I took whatever journalism, photography and ethics courses they had that would lead to a career in photojournalism.” Upon graduating in 2002, Reed came to a sudden halt. He quickly learned that finding work in the photography industry was extremely competitive. “Ultimately to get work I needed to show my ability,” Reed said. “I didn’t know much about traveling and I knew that if I was going to spend time doing this career I would need to travel.”


It was then off to Africa.


Reed chose Africa after doing research and learning about the critical issues that were taking place. He was 22, the age where most people are still deciding what they want to do in life, but at this tender age Reed was taking action. In addition to being young and inexperienced Reed also had no money. “I had a jeep, and I knew that I could sell that and get a plane ticket,” he said while laughing as if reminiscing about his ‘younger years’.


Reed arrived in Nairobi, Kenya.


He knew it was a city that was relatively developed, and it would not be a huge contrast to what he was accustomed to. “I knew from Nairobi I would be able to dive into these issues depending on my comfort level,” he said. “I soon realized that I was able to handle some of the more extreme locations.”


In his first three months, Reed found himself witness to his first refugee camp. Ninety thousand people crammed together in Northern Kenya and 56,000 were from Sudan. It was in 2002 that Sudan was 19 years into a civil war. Darfur, however, was not an issue that was main stream when Reed arrived. When he returned to the states in 2003, he immediately approached editors about Darfur and related to them how it was on the brink of eternal destruction and death.


I was completely ignored,” Reed said. “The media rely on us to report what is on the ground but in most cases they do not listen until it is too late.” The consequences of this dismissal caused Reed to be turned off from the media, and he questioned whether he should maintain the pursuit of being a photojournalist.


He wanted to tell a story. He wanted to save lives in a new way.


The people of Sudan trusted me to take photos of them when they were in the most vulnerable part of their life,” Reed said. “This cause kind of hijacked my life in a way.”


It was not until the summer of 2004 that the media began calling the name of Ryan Spencer Reed. He explained how he got a call from Redox Pictures, a New York based company, asking him to try and get into Darfur. Reed had never gotten a visa for Sudan which he said, “forced me to be creative about getting into the country.” This time around Reed snuck into Darfur with the rebels through Chad.


He was in a war zone.


It was on this trip that Reed took the photos he would eventually showcase in numerous exhibits which lead to many public appearances at universities all over America. They allowed him to speak about his cause. Reed was surrounded by the youth of a nation devastated by war. He took the pictures of young children crying in pain, others searching for the mother whose blood stained their rags and those just waiting. Reed was a kid to. He was as lost as the youth in Darfur. He wasn’t in pain or suffering, but he was looking for the right path.


It changed my life,” Reed said “This experience that I allowed myself to have helped me to accomplish so many things, and I don’t think I would be the same person I am if I had not gone to Africa.”


This journey has taken Reed too many different levels. His photography displays a country whose people are at their lowest point. They have nothing to live for, yet they continue to strive. The image of a young child’s face with tears running down his cheek haunts the observer and makes them want to know more.


Michael Hintlian, a documentary photographer and a close friend of Reed, describes Reed as a person who started late in the photography game. “I started when I was in high school,” he said. However, he acknowledges that Reed is committed and dedicated and it reflects in his current work and what he has achieved.


I think photography chose Ryan,” Hintlian said. “I think he is looking ahead from his earlier work.”


Ryan agreed. He said he is still doing presentations about his time in Darfur, but it has slowed down. He is focusing his time now capturing the city of Detroit.


His work from Darfur will not be forgotten though. “I think Ryan’s pictures captured the essence of the problems in Darfur really well,” said Kempton, a blogger who interviewed Ryan when he presented at Calgary in 2008.


Ryan Spencer Reed continues to pursue a career in photojournalism even through his many ups and downs. Darfur will forever impact his life, and he uses what he learned there to try and better his homeland. “Ever since I have been back in the states I have really noticed how out of balance my country is,” he said.


He is no longer that young man searching in a war zone. Darfur made him a man.


Dora Bradley

By Emmalie Vance


It sounds like a gun went off.

There it goes again.


Over and over the sound continues to make its way into Dora Bradley’s ears. She ignores it at first but after a few minutes she interrupts herself and asks what that sound is. Taking a break from jotting a few notes in my notebook I look around the room. I see computers on the far wall and behind me but no one is working on them. I hear people opening and closing doors outside the hall but nothing too loud. Then I hear the printer in the far corner as its inner workings smash against each other as it pulls a piece of paper through then doubles back with a loud crash to retrieve the next piece. I listen to this process for a few seconds, grab Dora’s attention then point to the object with a slight squint as if to say, “that?” She spins around in her chair, takes a long look at the printer and laughs. Turning back around, she nods in recognition and makes large explosions with her hands in the air. To me, the printer was just an ambient sound but to Dora, who is almost completely deaf, it sounded like a gunshot.


Bradley, an American Sign Language (ASL) professor at SUNY Plattsburgh and mother of 6, was born hearing but at the age of 18 months she contracted spinal meningitis, which attacked the nerves in her brain that allow her to hear, rendering them useless.


I wear hearing aid,” she said, “but I can only hear environment sounds.”


Sounds such as a phone ringing, the printer sounding in the far corner or the sound of a voice are recognizable to Bradley, but just because she can hear it doesn’t mean she can distinguish it.


I can hear a person’s voice as they talk, cry or scream but I won’t know if a person calls my name,” Bradley says.


At home, Bradley enlists the help of several aids such as special flashing lights or objects that vibrate so she can recognize when the phone rings or when someone is at the door. Almost every room in the house is equipped with a flashing light except the bathroom and her alarm clock vibrates instead of rings.


The rest of Bradley’s family—five sons, one daughter and her husband, Dr. Charles Bradley—can all hear normally.


We’re pretty much a normal family,” Charles said, “with the exception that we all sign.”


All six of Bradley’s children learned ASL before they could speak, making it their first language, but Charles learned sign language in college, which is also where he met Bradley for the first time.


Charles was attending graduate school at the Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) when a certain job opportunity caught his attention. Students would spend eight weeks over the summer on campus learning ASL and living with Deaf students. Once the training was finished, they would be able to accompany a Deaf student into their class and interpret lectures for them.


It was more or less an immersion program,” Charles said. “It was a much better way to learn the language than taking the language for only a few semesters.”


A year after Charles started with the interpreter program, Dora came to the National Technical Institute for the Deaf on the RIT campus where they met and fell in love.


After a few moves from New York to Missouri, Illinois and North Carolina, Charles and Dora finally settled back in New York’s North Country and Charles’s hometown of Plattsburgh. She had been working at a mainstream school as a teaching aide before she was asked by her friend Mary Beth Napoli to teach ASL III at SUNY Plattsburgh.


If students sign up for a class with Jill, myself and Dora,” Napoli said, “they are exposed to several different aspects of the Deaf community because Jill is a Child of Deaf Adults, or CODA, I am Hard of Hearing and Dora is Deaf. We are glad she joined our team.”


I've been teaching my language my whole life but teaching at a university was huge step for me,” Dora said. “Of course, I was nervous on my first day of teaching.”


Dora began teaching only third level ASL in 2006 but took on a second level course in 2008.


The was one specific event in Dora’s life that inspired her to teach:


My daughter was five and invited her classmates for her birthday party,” Dora said. “No one came. When she went to school on Monday she asked her friends why they didn’t come to her party and they said it was because my deafness was spreadable. Since then I have educated people and spread awareness.”



Creative Comfort

By Nick Chowske

When first you first Northland Upholstery, it isn’t immediately clear if it’s a business, or just the first floor apartment in a subdivided two-story house. Aside from the sign in the window to the left of the door, there’d be no way to distinguish it at all. As you walk up the three or four concrete steps to the front door you’re even tempted to knock. But then you remembered that it really is a business, and the woman who runs it is nothing short of a master at her trade.

When you walk in the door, you’re instantly greeted by clutter. To the right, there are rows and shelves of material samples, buckets of tools, and scraps of foam. To the left, sits a hundred year old settee on homemade wooden sawhorses. The little antique sofa is a work in progress, and is now decked out in brand new blue velvet fabric.

Behind the settee, another old chair is being brought back to life. This one isn’t quite as far along. Lying on its back, the barrel-backed wing-chair is a mess of half sown fabric with yellow foam pouring out of its various parts. Along the left wall, between the windows of the shop, sits a floor to ceiling bare-wood shelf loaded with books of fabric samples.

Paul Simon’s “Bodyguard” quietly pours out of a speaker perched atop the shelving. The 80s and 90s adult contemporary station is a staple of the shop, setting just the mood for her light-hearted creative work.

There is a foot wide path from the front door, between the samples and foam and half dead furniture that leads to the back of the shop. Here you are greeted again. Not by more clutter, or as much clutter, but by a beaming smile from a tired, yet energetic face. It’s Brenda LeClair, and this is her shop.

You can find Brenda here, her hair in long gray and brown ponytail, wearing her royal blue work-shirt, which despite a couple of tears in the sleeves has somehow retained its vibrant color, almost everyday of the week. If the sign in the window says closed, but the lights are on, give it a try.

“Sometimes I forget to flip the sign,” Brenda says with a laugh. “Then it’s like 3 o’clock and I’m like, well there’s no point now!” But that’s Brenda: relaxed, easy going, and super friendly.

The 55 year old Plattsburgh native treats customers like she’s known them her whole life; and some of them she has. As one of her customers, Glen, came into the shop, she immediately gave him her trademark smile and cheerful, “How ya doin’?” To watch Brenda interact with her customers is like watching two lifelong friends catch up. Glen came in to pick up the back to his massage chair.

Brenda had fixed the chair with perfection, and after Glen paid her and left, she began to explain what had happened to his chair.

“He had a really expensive massage chair, and somehow the fabric got caught in the motor and ripped the back out,” she explains. “The company wouldn’t repair it for whatever reason, so I told him if he could bring it in I’d do what I could.” You’d never know it from their interaction, but that was only the second time she’d. “I just met him last week,” she says with a smile. “He seems nice though.”

Maybe it’s that energy that’s kept her in business the last 11 years. But upholstery was never what Brenda planned to do, she just jumped into it. Starting out sewing with dreams of being a fashion designer, she’d hope to one day study in Europe.

“My mom taught me how to sew when I was in the sixth grade. She used to make our clothes and stuff,” Brenda remembers. “Then I started sewing, because I was this skinny little kid,” she laughs. “My sister was the perfect height, and everything looked beautiful on her. Here I am this long legged kid, and for anything to fit me, everything was way too short.”

Brenda will never forget the first thing she made. “The first thing I made was a flannel night gown. I was so proud. It had the little elastic in the cuffs so they flared a little, and it had a little button pocket here,” she says as she gestures with her hands enthusiastically. “It was long with a ruffled bottom so I could adjust the length, and it fit me perfectly. I felt like an angel, so I decided to make another one.” Two flannel nightgowns were all it took to set her on the upholstered path. “I was buying patterns and saving my money from babysitting just to make clothes.”

Brenda’s sewing progressed rapidly and soon she was designing her own outfits. “It got to where I couldn’t just make something from a pattern, I had to change it. I used to do sketches all the time, not that I was a good sketcher, but it was like I’d get an idea in my head and I’d have to draw a picture just so I could remember what it was,” she remembers. “If my family would have had the money I would have wanted to go to school over in France or Europe and become a designer.”

It seems that Brenda’s life has been defined by a tendency to jump into things, and her start in upholstery is no exception. An old friend, Agnes Kennedy, had asked her to redo some chairs for her son’s wedding gift. The two had met when Brenda sewed a massive set of wall to wall drapes for a room in Agnes’s house and grew to be close friends.

“Agnes asked me if I’d ever done any upholstery. I said no, I don’t know how,” Brenda remembers. “She said ‘I’m sure you can do it, just do the best you can, they don’t have to be perfect.’ I was unemployed at the time so I was like, ok,” she says with a nervous sigh, capped by a smile.

Little did Brenda know Agnes’s request would catapult her into her future career. “This was my very beginning. I went to the library and got three upholstery books. Then I took a notebook and started undoing the fabric from the last piece put on to the very beginning,” she explains. “I wrote everything down that I took off so that when I put it back together I had to do the reverse. It turned out that I had two of the hardest pieces you can do and didn’t know it at the time. This is how I’ve jumped into everything.”

To add to the difficulty of the chairs, Brenda had chosen to upholster the chair in a gray and white “flame-stitch pattern”. Any sort of pattern like that needs to have all of the parts line up perfectly to look right, and Brenda is a self-proclaimed perfectionist. “I took pictures and brought them to the Rustic.” The Rustic was a Plattsburgh drapery and upholstery factory. It was there that a woman named Pam taught her all of the tricks of the trade. When she’d learned all she could, Brenda took a job running the upholstery department at another local factory called Larson’s.
Three years in, Brenda began training a new woman named Martie Wilkins. “Martie had raised her kids and did the PTA thing at the school,” Brenda says. “When she turned 40, she told her husband, Wayne, who was a corrections officer, ‘I want a job and a car.’”

Martie bought an Orange Mustang and applied for a job at Larson’s. “They saw some of my work and asked Brenda if I was trainable,” Marti says. Larson’s hired her and she worked with Brenda for the next three years. “She taught me all the ins and outs of upholstery,” Martie says.

Then it was time for Brenda to make another jump. Another upholsterer in town was selling his building and it looked like Larson’s would be up for sale soon. “Things were kind of iffy with Larson’s,” Brenda says. “I told Martie: If we’re going to do this, now’s the time.”

Martie agreed, and the two jumped in. They opened Northland Upholstry, and ran it together for nearly 20 years. “We had a lot of fun together,”

“For years, we were in business together and Brenda was a great partner,” Martie remembers. “You know, in order to be in business together you have to trust each other completely. We did.”

All in all Brenda has been doing upholstery for nearly 29 years. “I’ve been doing this all my life, it seems like,” she says. She enjoys most of the work, but after all the years, there’s still one job she refuses: automotive. “Some people love it,” she says emphatically. “I don’t!” Automotive upholstery deals heavily with vinyl, which doesn’t stretch. “I’m a perfectionist, and if I don’t do it just right, I gotta take the whole thing apart.”

She really knows every aspect of the trade and has worked on nearly every kind of antique chair, settee, loveseat, and couch you can imagine. She even makes house calls, and has decorated some entire camps. “I love picking out the fabrics and matching them from room to room.”

Martie, who is nine years older than Brenda, has retired from the business, and Brenda has since been running the shop on her own. Sometimes, the work can take a toll on her body. “It gets harder as you get older,” she says. “I saw what it was doing to Martie, and didn’t realize it was happening to me too.”

Reworking antique couches, among other furniture, involves stringing large sets of metal coils together to make a seat, and this requires a lot of pulling and twisting. The work has taken its toll on Brenda, and she has had to under go muscle therapy because her shoulder was dropping and her whole body was leaning. “It’s not just the stretching and pulling, it’s lifting the things up on the sawhorses too!”

She still likes what she’s doing though. “I still like it. When I feel good, I like it,” she says with a big smile. She can’t help but smile as she talks about her work. Any tool or piece you ask about, she’s happy to explain everything she knows about it from how it works, to where she got it. She keeps before and after photos of every thing she’s done, and the books and envelopes seem to be endless.

The hardest thing she’d ever done was a large swoop back chair, but she meets every piece head on. She’s even reworked a piece from the 1750s. On old pieces like that, Brenda often even works with the original stuffing. “The new stuff just isn’t built to last,” she says. The blue velvet piece in the window contains original moss and horse hair stuffing between its newly restrung coils.

Picking fabrics and coordinating patterns may take a creative eye, but the real art of what she does is restoring completely beat furniture to a beautiful new piece. “I don’t give people deadlines on things like that,” she laughs. “I’ll get things for weddings and proms in on time, but it’s a struggle.”

Brenda is torn sometimes about her work and her customers because she takes her time with every piece. “I try to be fair, but I don’t always get what I should get for some of the stuff. I see things that I want to see people keep and not just throw out, but I can’t do it for free.” When it comes to that she tries to get people to try it themselves, sort of jump right in like she did. “I’ve guided some people through some things, and I always say, if you get stuck, throw it in your vehicle bring it in and say HELP I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” she shouts in high-pitched energy. She even taught classes in a spot at the air-force base and often thinks of going back to it. “I can’t do this forever, you know?”

Reupholstery isn’t a common trade, and there aren’t many people like Brenda out there. Not just because of the trade she’s mastered, but because of the genuine friendliness and energy she gives. “It’s a dying art,” Brend says. “We’re a dying breed.”

The Excellent Lexettes

By Amanda DeLosh

As the young girl takes the cold shimmering ice, having seen her reflection staring back at her, she takes a deep breath turns around to her teammates, and says one quick last cheer before gliding across the ice.

Synchronized skating has been around since the early 1950’s by its creator Dr. Richard Porter. Anne-Arbor Michigan happens to be the founding town of this exquisite sport. The story behind it, however, is interesting on its own. Michigan, being known for its hockey (i.e. the Detroit Red Wings) didn’t know that they would soon have another sport to add to the ice. A group of skaters performed for the first time at University of Michigan hockey games. Then, in 1976, the first team competition was held in Ann-Arbor. Synchronized skating has had a challenging evolution, but there are hopes for adding it to the future Olympic Games.

With synchronized skating consistently evolving every year, one skating team in particular has become world known, the Lexettes. The Lexettes is a part of the Hayden Skating Club. The Hayden Skating Club holds eight synchronized skating teams. The most elite of them all is very well known in the skating world, The Haydenettes. The Haydenettes are recognized as “America’s skating team,” holding 17 U.S. National titles. They are a senior level synchro team, which has been adopted as the short term for synchronized skating by its fans.

Skaters move around the ice with smiles and expressions to wow the crowd. Specific songs are chosen by the coach to capture the judges, and crowd’s interest, and get them into the program. This year the Lexettes have a program to big band swing music. They glide across the ice in block formations doing spins, twizzles, intense footwork and arm movements and facial expressions that really set the mood to the music. It is almost like watching a music video on ice, just with a few skates involved and beautiful dresses the flow in the breeze of the fast moving skaters with makeup that dazzles their faces to make them look even more flawless.

The Lexettes happen to be the junior level team, which is considered one of the most elite levels of competitive figure skating. They are the reigning U.S. Bronze medalists, which got them a spot on Team USA, meaning they represent the U.S. in any international competitions.

The team is made up of 21 girls who skate with their hearts from four states including Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, New York and Rhode Island. In order to be on this team one would have to be an avid figure skater, practicing in such areas as dance, moves in the field, freestyle and synchro. A lot of time and dedication go into making a team such as the Lexettes.

Three girls from upstate New York have joined the Lexettes for the 2009-2010 synchro season. Chelsea Travis, Lizzie Bastien and Leah Short have skated together since they were little. Now the girls are heading into their last couple of years in high school and travelling six to seven hours every weekend to practice with the Lexettes in Lexington, MA. Short is from the Plattsburgh, NY area and has been skating since she was 5 years old. “My neighbor told me I should try synchronized skating because I loved to skate and she thought I would love synchro,” Short says. “And I do!”

Short has been a part of the Hayden teams for the past 2 seasons now, including her long time teammates, Travis and Bastien. They have all worked their way up from the Novice level Ice Mates, which is a level below the Lexettes. However, it all begins somewhere and they all really wouldn’t be where they are today if it wasn’t for their old team, the Ice Illusions. The Ice Illusions became a team in 2003 and had their final skate together in February 2008. They took the gold medal up and down the East coast multiple years, and travelled to the Rocky Mountain state of Colorado to capture the silver medal at the State Games of America.

Being on the Ice Illusions prepared the girls, allowing them to know what to expect when trying out for the Lexettes. “Compared to teams we've been on before there’s a lot more work and dedication.” Short. “There are more hours on and off ice.” Short explains.

Even though it may seem like it is all work and no play, the Lexettes have a lot to be proud of and many memories to hold on to forever. “The friends and traveling has been my favorite thing so far,” Short says with a smile.” Travis and Bastien chimed in with their favorite thing simply saying, “Friends and traveling,” continuing, “And working towards our dreams.” Those dreams may possibly be one day competing in the Winter Olympics.

Being a part of any synchronized skating team involves a lot of practice, but also travelling. Some teams are lucky enough to travel all over the world to compete. This past January, the Lexettes travelled to Berlin, Germany to compete and earn the Bronze medal, which is a great achievement for the team. Short says that her favorite memory thus far was definitely travelling to Berlin and competing.

With the season coming to a close there is one last competition for them to compete in and the girls are very much looking forward to one last final skate doing the thing they love. “Bourne is one of my favorites because it's the first competition and it's gets you excited for the season, and it's your first competition with the team that year,” Short says, “And Nationals would be another one because you get to see how much you’ve improved and you can look at the journey you took,” she continues. “So they actually go together, “Short adds with a smile.

As the girls head off to Nationals in Minneapolis, Minnesota to compete against all of the teams in the U.S, after winning gold in the Easterns Synchronized Skating Competition, they hope to do their best and skate with their hearts, and come home with gold medals around their necks one more time as the season comes to a complete and the skates get put away until, it’s time to start all over again doing the thing they love.

Gordon

By Chris Dalnodar

Many people know Dan Gordon as SUNY Plattsburgh’s quirky band conductor, saxophone guru and enthusiastic professor of music. There are few, however, who realize the full scope of this one man’s undertakings. I sat down with Mr. Gordon to get a look at how he manages to balance the academic and personal sides of his life.

“Life is a constant juggling act.” Gordon assures me.

Sitting in his office one gets the impression that this is a very busy man with connections to many different areas. Papers cover the desks, sheet music is everywhere and books on obscure composers and other music topics line his shelves. Aside from his teaching duties at Plattsburgh state he conducts the Adirondack Wind Ensemble, plays in the Frontier Saxophone Quartet (which he founded), and is a dedicated father/ family man. He admits though that “sometimes you drop a ball or two.”

As the afternoon sun filtered in through the windows I started to get more of the whole picture starting from the beginning. In college, Gordon decided to drop his psychology major in pursuit of his passion for music. After graduating from Syracuse University he studied in Bordeaux, France under the world famous saxophone virtuoso Jean-Marie Londeix. It was around this time that he and a close friend decided to take their saxophones to the streets of Europe. They spent two summers traveling throughout Europe performing Telemann flute duets on soprano saxophones. Gordon later chronicled these adventures in his book Sax on the Streets: Confessions of an American Street Musician in Europe.

After his European escapades Gordon decided he needed to do something to land a lucrative job. He returned to school, this time in Colorado, and took up conducting.

Making Culinary Magic: A Look into the Life of a Food Stylist

By Alyse Whitney

A freshly baked chocolate graham cracker crust is filled to the brim with chocolate mousse. On top, mountain-like peaks of whipped cream round the entire circumference of the pie, sprinkled with shavings of semi-sweet chocolate. The sight is mouth-watering and a lingering scent of slowly melted chocolate wafts through the air, catching the nose of the photographer’s child. As she wanders over, she is quickly stopped, a dangling fork snatched from her eager hands. “You don’t want to eat that,” her father warns with a laugh, gesturing toward the slice. Although it appears to be a standard chocolate cream pie, the inside has been hollowed out and replaced with a sturdier (and more savory) filling – mashed potatoes.

Although the idea of a chocolate and mashed potato pie may not be appealing to the palate, neither is a droopy-looking piece. Humans are notorious for eating with their eyes first, and hell, animals may be just as guilty. Because of that, when food is photographed, it must be precisely tuned to appeal to both the eyes and the stomach of the reader. To achieve perfection under hot studio lights for hours at a time, a bit of culinary magic has to occur, and head magician in this case is Angela Yeung, food stylist extraordinaire.

At only thirty-one years of age, Angela Yeung has gartered quite an audience. After only being involved in food styling for two years, she took the $10,000 first place prize in Food Network’s “Food Magician” Challenge in February 2009, ranking above professionals that had been working in the industry for over ten years. The jump-start to her career came from her father, Ka Yeung, who worked as a food photographer for thirty years. Angela says she “grew up watching food stylists come through his [her father’s] studio and was fascinated by their work. That fascination eventually grew into a full fledged love affair with food.” That affair with food brought her out of an undecided program at school and into a culinary arts degree at a New Orleans Community College. From there, she received training at the prestigious Ecole Superieur De Gregoire Ferrandi in Paris, France and went on to ‘stage’ or apprentice under world-renowned Chef Christian Constant at Michelin Star restaurant, Le Violin D’ingres.

Despite her love for restaurants – whether it was as a line cook, a pastry chef, or a train cook in Alaska – it was challenging. While she was at Le Violin D’ingres, she was working double shifts six days a week, sometimes from 8 in the morning to 2 the following day. “French kitchens are like the military – not real friendly,” Yeung explains. “There’s a hierarchy there, so even the dishwasher treats you like crap,” she adds with a laugh. Her experience in France was rewarding and an important learning experience, but at the end, she felt burnt out.

Amber Gregory: Administrative Assistant by Day, Concert Photographer by Night

By Amanda Smith


Every inch of the floor is gone and no wall is left untouched by a single body. Like a big animal in a small cage, the tightly packed crowd begins to go insane. Mosh pits form as crowd surfers make their way to the front of the stage hoping to get a glimpse of the lead singer in the San Franciscan venue that seemed non-existent in the daylight. In the thick of the mass, she stands still for a few seconds contemplating whether or not to move forward to get the shot at her target.

Countless tiny square screens that light up the dark and smoky room are everywhere, but the bigger screens with enormous bulky lenses attached are near the front of the stage, where she desires to be. With her petite 5’2 frame, she fights her way up to the orchestral pit to be able to get a good, close look at him front and center. Although flash is not allowed, if she can get close enough, she’ll get what she needs. Her favorite band at the moment, We Are Scientists, plays tonight and she can’t miss the show or the shot that just may make her artwork famous.

Amber Gregory aims to capture unique on-stage moments of artists unintentionally revealing themselves and their emotions in her concert photography. She has worked hard this past year to get her photography career off the ground in her South Beach, San Francisco home by signing up for numerous popular social networking sites such as Flickr, Facebook and Twitter.

“At age 27, I finally realized what it meant to control your destiny and through that I began networking with people and putting the word out that I wanted to do concert photography which led to me getting a gig with a music blog,” she says. “I finally understood what people had told me for years. Things don’t just happen to me, I make them happen.”

After only three to four months of networking online, Gregory applied for a position shooting and writing concert reviews for location-specific lifestyle site, Examiner.com, and got the job making nearly $40 a month. The job wasn’t so much for the money as it was for the learning experience, she says.

Her work at UC Berkeley’s Electrical Engineering and Computer Sciences Department as an administrative assistant is what pays the bills for now, but Gregory refuses to let this job become a career. After all, she only applied out of desperate need for life insurance due to her former insurance running out just before marrying her husband, Scott. With her husband running his own marketing service out of their loft apartment, it was crucial she kept her job at UC Berkeley because he is unable to easily obtain life insurance.

“That job is the one thing that prevents me from being happy,” she says. “It doesn’t allow me to be myselfI have to be Sally Straightlace, she says.

Gregory was even specifically told to dress more appropriately before she was hired. She is the only one in her office to wear bright colors or listen to blaring music and thus dubs herself the office oddball, but making compromises and taking risks is not something new to her.

After finishing high school and turning eighteen, she left the harsh streets city streets of Los Angeles for a different way of life in San Francisco. She moved into a warehouse with several mentally unstable teenagers she met on an online message board.

“Yeah, that's gonna turn out well, can't you just tell?” she says. “I was unaware of what reality was back thenIt was an easy way out.

A year after living a life of frequent raves and drama-filled days, Gregory decided to live with her recently-divorced mother after having a falling out with her boyfriend due to each of them having lost a parent.

After my dad died, things with my boyfriend were not very good,” she says. “He also had lost his mom tragically very young and I think he was not emotionally able to handle someone else's parent's death plus I was a huge mess,” she says.

Moving in with her mother made her see that she wanted to be out on her own again so Gregory moved back to San Francisco to be with her now-husband. That’s when she began to troll the Internet to network and found a fellow friend who liked her favorite band and was a photographer.

Once she saw what she could create with a camera lens eleven years ago, she fell in love with the job that lacked oversight from her boss and enabled her creative juices to freely flow.

“I've been working really hard on photography because I dont want to be (an administrative assistant) forever,” she says.

Gregory aspires to become solely dependent on her art work one day. Her plan is to start shooting weddings as her main source of income, but make concert photography her main art.

I've been working really hard at (the Examiner) and trying to plot my next move,” she says. Coachella is a huge accomplishment for me and I just got another position with Examiner.com that I’ll be…writing articles about We Are Scientists! Hello, dream assignment!"