I have been a dedicated museumgoer since childhood, when I was introduced at age eight to the joys of interacting one-on-one with great art at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. I stood enraptured before Renoir’s Girl with a Watering Can and Gauguin’s Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going? In each of these situations (and dozens more), what really impressed me was the physicality of the works, not just the colors and textures, but their actuality. In the case of the Renoir, the painting is about 40 by 28 inches, not life-size but substantial; the Gauguin is huge, 12 feet by about 5 feet tall, covering the entire wall of the room where it’s hung.

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I don’t want to repeat myself too much (only as much as is tolerable) but can’t resist writing about the Summer Art Cruise that debuted on June 5th along 6^th Street and 6^th Avenue, taking the place of the First Saturday Art Walk. Picture a hot summer night, the luminous twilight sky, a shimmer of activity and a babble of enthusiastic, animated conversation among the crowds of art seekers.

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First Saturdays are a project of the Central Tucson Gallery Association, and typically, throngs of art-minded folks can be found strolling up and down 6th Street in the vicinity of 6th Avenue on those auspicious dates. May 1st was no exception, as dozens of the cognoscenti wandered from place to place, sipping wine, noshing on snacks and not incidentally checking out the varied and highly visible works to be seen at the eight galleries that abide in the immediate area.

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In the midst of the Fourth Avenue Street Fair bustle in the neighborhood (and its concomitant “no place to park” madness), a gathering of mostly like-minded souls at the Rogue Theatre on University Blvd. Sunday afternoon proved that when given a chance to talk about the arts, about criticism and the media, about building audiences and even what the value of art is, those intrepid folks will not let obstacles deter them from a lively discussion. Facing a panel made up of Kathleen Allen and Cathalena Burch of the Daily Star, Lyn Tornabene, journalist and theater critic, Jessica Andrews of Arizona Theater Company, Joel Revzen of Arizona Opera, Joseph McGrath of the Rogue Theatre, Harry Clark of Chamber Music Plus Southwest and professor Joseph Thomas Tolliver from the University of Arizona Philosophy Department, moderated by Bruce Brockman, the head of the University’s Media and Theater School, the audience of 100 or so not only paid attention to what was being said but enthusiastically participated as well.

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The event title was “The Music of Broadway,” but it could easily have been called something like “New York City Cabaret Comes to Tucson,” straight out of the incomparable Café Carlyle in New York. That’s what it really was, and it’s unfortunate that the University’s Centennial Hall was less than two-thirds full Saturday night, because what was on offer was both extraordinary and rare. I can’t imagine that this particular configuration will ever again grace another Tucson (or any other city’s) stage. The trio of artists – Marin Mazzie, Cheyenne Jackson and Christine Ebersole – transformed the familiar space into an intimate, dynamic venue for polished and thoroughly professional, charming, – and in some cases, sexy -- entertainment of the highest order. And their accompanists could not have been any better, enhancing each and every note, commanding attention in their own right.

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Maurice Grossman really exemplified the cliché “a legend in his own time,” not to mention, “larger than life.” And for a variety of different communities in Tucson, he was not just ubiquitous but probably downright irreplaceable. And yet, the arts world, the GLBT world, liberal politics, the world of ideas and theater and culture in general will now have to get along without his megawatt smile and lovingkindness, his energy and ideas, his unfailing optimism and willingness to pitch in.

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The 75-year-old Firestone building that now houses Conrad Wilde Gallery has a rich history that doesn’t necessarily reflect its background.

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The dedicated art lovers who found their way to Tooley's Coffee Shop in the Lost Barrio (showing through November 30) for the rare, once-a-year opportunity to view and purchase the work of beloved Tucsonan Francisco Franklin were not typical of those who usually attend these kinds of events.

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With so many high-voltage entertainment options to choose from, going to a poetry reading at an independent bookstore might not seem very appealing, especially when just down the street in either direction on 4^th Avenue, music is resounding from various venues like — depending on ones’ taste and possibly age — either a cacophony of noise or sweet, inviting harmonies.

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In Centennial Hall last night, a large, enthusiastic crowd of more than a thousand became enraptured as ten black-clad student actors sat with microphones and music stands holding 3-ring binders that contained their scripts, and brought The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later to vivid and mesmerizing life. Without any fanfare, a set, fancy lighting or sound effects, with only projections of oversized photos of the town and the Wyoming landscape behind them as enhancement, this troupe joined their counterparts – all of them in communication with one another – playing in 150 cities worldwide, in every state of the U.S. and abroad in Hong Kong, Madrid and Melbourne, Australia, to name only a few.

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