The Daily Consternation - a blog - KennebecTom.com

Colby College Museum of Art - Grand Reopening

8/9/2013

On July 14, 2013, I went up to Colby College Museum of Art for the grand re-opening day celebration and tour. And I was floored. Really. The floor is totally amazing. Beautiful, beautiful wood, stained a rich deep tone that emphasizes the grain. But of course, I'm sure the Lunders and the Alfonds didn't intend for this all to be a wood-floor showcase.

Moving on to the museum and the art - wow. Actually, more like WOW. I am majorly impressed. I entered cautiously, half skeptically. It's been talked up a lot and I wasn't sure how much was credible assessment and how much was emotional wishful thinking. Well, by the time I made it through about 35% of the expanded place, I was sold. I had MOMA and Met flashbacks. I was running into names and works giving me 1990s UofA art-major flashbacks. I was being stunned again and again by paintings full of dramatic light and sculptures of uncanny sensitivity to form, texture, and motion.

This was a quick pass-through visit on probably one of the museum's most crowded days. I got a sweeping panorama of greatness. It served to impress upon me that I need to come up often. It's clearly now a place where one could spend 1-2 full days viewing and learning. The photos I've posted below are only a portion of what's to be seen. I realize now that I completely forgot to take pictures of some galleries because I was conversing with people I knew, or heartily congratulating Sharon Corwin and Patricia King (director and asst. director) on the magnificence of this fruit of their labors. It was cool to see how genuinely excited Sharon was to see so many people in the museum.

If I follow through with my intentions, I will come to the museum regularly, almost as a meditation, to just stare at some of my favorites for much longer than most people look at paintings. I've always felt guilty at how quickly I may move on, and saddened by how quickly others may. Some works I've seen, both here and elsewhere, don't deliver their full effect until you've stood there long enough for the colors to begin to oscillate, or your peripheral vision to give up reporting, leaving you absorbed in your focus.

In a nutshell, the reviews and the hype appear true and accurate to me.

Busy Reality Limits Virtuality

7/12/2013

I haven't been prattling on as much here on The (non)Daily Consternation because I've been working hard on making arts and music happen in the real world. It's very exciting that many of my dreams are actually becoming reality.

First, I organized a classical concert June 29 at Common Street Arts. This has come about through the ripening of a number of factors. 1) My involvement with CSA. 2) My casual discussions with my daughter's cello teacher. 3) My law partners' willingness to sponsor the event. 4) My increased familiarity with various online event calendars. 5) My ongoing discussions with Atlantic Music Festival and Daponte Quartet. And there's a whole lot more subtle discussions, conversations, and research, but suffice to say all these simmering ingredients have finally cooked themselves up into a real manifestation of musical goodness. It was a wonderful evening at the gallery, with great music, but more than a little residual stress for me. I learned a lot during this first concert experience and have ideas to make it smoother and less laborious next time.

I feel like I've realized and am at peace with the concept that, at my age, I'm never going to be the musician or be the artist. But it seems my lot in life, and where I can really be useful, given my skill-set as a lawyer and problem solver - but one who happens to have had a 4-year art education and has a BFA and a self-taught love of music and theater - is to be a patron of, advocate for, and organizer of musical events. Essentially, a friend of the arts.

To that end, my service on the Board of Directors for Common Street Arts has been very personally rewarding, and I feel I'm in for the long haul, with no real eye on any horizon for not being involved. There's so many exciting opportunities for enhancing this community and it's downtown and economy through CSA that I can't imagine not being a participant. I find it comes naturally to launch into a prolonged and passionate advocacy speech on behalf of CSA - genuine and spontaneous - reflecting to me and presumably others my sincerity (or insanity?).

Atlantic Music Festival is the other organization I have great enthusiasm about helping to become a bigger factor in Waterville. I have been helping out on a small basis with providing local information to the artistic director about venues, fill-in musician contacts, junior high and high school music directors, housing possibilities, and other "local knowledge" kinds of issues that have been difficult for AMF to sort out due to their remote headquarters in New York City. Their presence here each summer strikes me as a gift and an incredible fluke, and I would hate to see them choose to locate elsewhere because they felt unwelcome and unappreciated in Waterville.

If I can weave together the strands of CSA, AMF, downtown revitalization, and my historical pursuits, I'll really be at the nexus of all the things I want to be.

From The Lakehouse: Camp Art Gallery

6/16/2013

So we're renting a charming little camp on Long Pond this week. Long Pond itself is a work of art, and the camp is a tidy, efficient, thoughtfully constructed beauty too. The owner explained that it's been in the family a long time, and his parents lived here until recently. Perched about 40 feet from water's edge, I have the luxury of typing this with the call of loons, the sounds of crows squabbling with a bald eagle, lapping waves, and the sigh of gentle wind through the soaring hemlocks and white pines.

The camp is outfitted with nigh everything you could desire. Sheets, towels, paper goods, dishes, utensils, spices, books and games. A dishwasher, microwave, toaster, two coffeemakers, washer and dryer - well heck, it's basically a complete house. But within the first 24 hours, I noticed and became charmed by the eclectic collection of art and knicknacks. They are things I myself would perhaps not have purchased had I seen them in an antique or thrift store. Things whose charm I might not have understood in a different context. But somehow, here, gathered together and presented on the walls and shelves of the camp, they seem so right, so delightful, so complimentary - like a carefully curated gallery show. So I have decided to create this digital gallery to share them with you, reproductions by iPhone. Forgive the occasional glare; enjoy the occasional details.

Common Streets Arts placements at Waterville Opera House

12/14/2012

A glowing example of arts collaboration - after the renovation, the Opera House had big, beautiful, but bare walls. They needed art. They contacted Kate Barnes at Common Street Arts. She came over and looked at the situation. Then she expertly paired the Opera House with the work of an artist known to her. The colors of the paintings and the Opera House complement each other perfectly. No cost to the Opera House. The paintings are for sale. The artist gets exposure, and maybe some sales. It's a win-win-win situation. Oh yeah, and the public gets to see great art before the shows and during intermissions. So that's really a win-win-win-win situation. And later, perhaps the works displayed will rotate. Each piece has a price and the CSA contact information to seal the deal.

Why You Should Go To The Show Opening At Common Street Arts TONIGHT

11/3/2012

Background:

Common Street Arts is Waterville's flagship downtown art gallery.

It is located directly across from Waterville Opera House, facing Castonguay Square.

Why you should go:

Tonight's opening is for a multi-artist show, where artists were paired with and inspired by Maine farmers.

Tonight is about Maine Art.

Tonight is about Maine farms.

Tonight is about Waterville's downtown economy and vibrancy.

You don't have to be an art expert to enjoy it.

There will be food and drink, including unique apple sparkling wines from Tree Spirits.

There will be interesting people from Waterville and all around the state to chat with. You are one of those interesting people.

About any range of attire is fine.

CSA is a beachhead in polishing up Waterville into a cultural center and magnet for visitors.

CSA needs your awareness of its existence; and your financial support if you can help.

The gallery opens at 5 PM tonight. I'll be there for the early part of the evening, and I hope to see you. Don't be shy.

Here's my account of the last Opening: http://www.kennebectom.com/1/post/2012/09/common-street-arts-grand-opening.html

And here's tonight's event on the CSA website: http://commonstreetarts.com/event/csa-at-csa/

PechaKucha Waterville volume 9 - 10/26/2012

10/28/2012

I have been watching news of PechaKucha online, via Facebook, for quite a while. I watched one or two presentations online and was intrigued. Then I came to know Tammy Rabideau, orchestrator-in-chief, through our mutual involvement with Common Street Arts. Her passion for PKN (as it is abbreviated to avoid the awkwardness and insecurity of pronouncing it) convinced me to take her invitation deeper to heart than many invitations I receive. Thus, I overcame the fatigue of a Friday night after a hell of a disjointed week, and the gravity of one daughter to be picked up from a school dance, and two other exhausted family members cozily schlumping out at home. Much as I longed for a recliner, I installed myself in my car and ventured forth, up the long hill to Colby College, to try to find, in the dark, a venue I've not previously been to up there - Ostrove Auditorium.

After researching the campus map online and planning my route and parking location based on landmarks I do know, I found the building readily enough. I had to park a good distance away, but the weather was kind and so the stroll to the building was comfortable enough. The lobby of the Diamond Building was very full, and I recognized only a handful of the other attendees. I stood still a bit and gauged the scene. There was a nice blend of elderly, middle-age, and college age people. Some snacks and synapse-lubricating alcohol were available. I myself eschewed the hooch, since I was still on a steady diet of cold medications from the Acadian Death Cold that had been plaguing me for 20 days. In fact, during my solo stroll to the building I engaged in some vigorous half-intentional power-coughing in an attempt to clear my lungs to sit silently and not be the most annoying man in the auditorium (which I probably only half-succeeded at). Anyway, while a beer sounded good, I didn't want to risk the paranoid delusions I once experienced in college due to an unwise combination of otherwise innocuous cold remedies and alcohol.

After perusing the informational table, which only made partial sense without the benefit of the upcoming presentations, I entered and selected a seat. Ostrove is a fine, modern, comfortable venue. Plenty of legroom I was delighted to find. There's a lot of negativity and contrariness in the air of this nation and town due to election-season. PechaKucha provided a much-needed antidote.

I was in for a night of inspiration and celebration of the human spirit. As follows:

Inspiration #1: The 180-seat Ostrove Auditorium was filled - in fact, there were people standing - for an event that is described by Tammy as "a symphony of ideas." Smart people with open and creative minds. Heartening to say the list.

Inspiration #2: Izzy Labbe, the 14-year old emcee, was dynamite. Her age would suggest she be referred to as a girl. Her poise at the podium, her command of the crowd, and her sense of humor demand she be called a young lady. I would easily have believed she was a college freshman rather than a high school freshman.

Inspiration #3: The format. Each speaker was well-rehearsed to keep their presentation in line with the 20 images they were permitted, each displayed for 20 seconds. Really. 20 seconds. The speaker could not control it. This format is awesome because it keeps the momentum rolling, ensures people are concise, protects the audience against tedium and tangents (though I assure you I detected no such trends), and gives a fantastic rhythm to the event.

Inspiration #4: Margy Burns Knight's (mother of Emilie Knight of Common Street Arts fame) germinating idea for a project examining statues of famous women throughout the country in conjunction with the 100th Anniversary of the 19th Amendment. I was astonished when she displayed a statue of a Native American woman from the Yavapai tribe in my hometown of Prescott, Arizona. What are the odds?

Inspiration #5: Gift Ntuli, an unassuming, kind, and genuine Colby student from Zimbabwe, who matter-of-factly described how he is bettering the lives of orphaned children in his homeland by coordinating the acquisition and delivery to them of solar lanterns so they can study after dark. Their days are consumed with school and survival, since most of their parents have died from HIV/AIDS. The lanterns permit them to study and perform additional chores after night falls. I was moved nearly to tears at how this young man happily described how he has put this project together, and how he intends to continue it and expand it.

Inspiration #6: The friendly, warm, beverage-sipping speech of James Chute describing his project of making drawings while interviewing over 50 female artists. His drawings were juxtaposed with images of representative works by the interviewees.

Inspiration #7: The whimsical-yet-questioning relief and installation art of Barbara Sullivan. She called them frescoes, but to me it was more relief-like in nature. All of it insightful and tinged with humor, her work reminded me of why I've come back to seeking art after a couple of decades out of touch with it.

Inspiration #8: Chatting with librarian Sarah Sugden about the so-called "creative economy" in Waterville and it's potential to invigorate Waterville, during which we got that delightful fervent head-nodding "you're so right" kind of effect going.

Inspiration #9: Tammy Rabideau publicizing and talking up Common Street Arts and, when she asked how many people in the audience had visited the gallery/studio, seeing half the hands in the place go up.

Inspiration #10: Laura Lessing's presentation of the mysteries confronting a curator at Colby Museum of Art.

Inspiration #11: The humble, revelation-packed enthusiasm of Rurik Spence for beekeeping.

With that, I had to reluctantly break away before the last presentation to drive across town and pick up my daughter from the junior high dance. But on my way, I replayed the creative and positive displays of the night in my head and was infused with the warmth of hope, and the conviction that, yes, I would really like to do one of these myself one day. In the meantime, I hope to attend again. And should you attend PechaKucha? Yes. I firmly believe you'd find the presenters interesting, illuminating, and thought-provoking. And even if there is a dud, it'll pass in 400 seconds.

PechaKucha Waterville on the web

PechaKucha Waterville on Facebook

The Recovery of the Dreamer

10/13/2012

With a bad cold and a broken-down car, and a generous helping of other chaos, my dreamer's mind has been shut down for a while. Well, maybe I'm feeling a little better today, because, while downloading a free album of songs by Maine musicians, sponsored by Bangor Savings Bank, I stumbled across the story of St. Lawrence Arts, in Portland, which rescued and old church from ruin and turned it into a performing arts venue, just like my Gymnopedie fantasy. Cause for optimism? Sounds like their building was in even worse shape than Gymnopedie by far. Cause for pragmatism? Looks like the efforts to get where they are have taken about 20 years; and Portland has a larger population and is artsy-fartsier. Here's the link to the history of St. Lawrence Arts. Next up, they have a plan to add on a second larger theater to the complex.

...a four hour tour.

10/2/2012

So today I had four hours to thank my wonderful sister-in-law, Nikki, and her endurance driver friend, Amy, for driving my new (used) car out from Ohio to Maine. I wanted to show Amy, who had never been to Maine before, a small sampling of the best of Waterville and Winslow, and create a little fun for Nikki before we had to have them back to Portland Jetport for their flight.

So I picked them up at 9:00 AM, and KennebecTom's tour service proceeded to hustle to Fort Halifax Park. We parked, hopped out, and viewed the 1754 blockhouse and the nice new informational display. Then sauntered into the park far enough to see the beautiful lawn, trees, picnic tables, and Kennebec River. After a Ferris Bueller style contemplative silence, it was back to the car. I was spewing factoids about the river and the Fort. We drove back up Halifax Street, which I pointed out appears on maps from the late 1700s, and past the ancient headstones of Fort Hill Cemetery.

Then we crossed back over the Kennebec, discussing the Hathaway mill and stopped at Head of Falls, where we walked out onto the Two Cent Bridge, while I gave amateur tour guide info on the former paper mill, the bridge, and City Hall and the Waterville Opera House. Then it was back in the car and to our breakfast destination, Selah Tea Cafe. Good coffee and a delicious scone for me. Nikki, a tea lover, had something off the lengthy tea roster. I eyed the pleasant surroundings as a possible Atlantic Music Festival venue.

Then I decided to show them Barrels Market, so we started walking down Main Street in the cool fall air, but Holy Cannoli caught our eye. The ladies had never had cannoli, so we stopped in and got them three to sample. I chatted with the proprietor and made note of the ready-to-heat stromboli in the display case. Future lunch? Oh yes.

We stopped outside the Maine Made shop for a photo op with the giant stuffed moose. While that picture was being taken I was peering through the glass into the REM Forum, again thinking how the space might work for a chamber music performance. Then we made it across the street to Barrels. Something delicious must have been cooking because it smelled GREAT in there. Nikki loved the place, proclaiming that she'd shop there all the time if she could. I told her they'd love for her to move to Maine. Amy picked up a teeny-tiny jar of blueberry honey (that will comply with airline rules). I had never noticed, and was impressed by the hand-crafted soap that is sliced and sold by weight on the spot. Mostly, I reminded myself to come back soon for more Maine tinned herring.

Next, it was back in the car for more road-touring. Down Water Street so I could show them the Hathaway Creative Center building. Beyond that, I pointed out my demarcation line for the beginning of the "bad part of town", which is quaint compared to the bad parts of...say...Phoenix, Arizona. They were treated to a dual appearance of Shirtless Bob and Shirtless Rob, and I mentioned John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitt. Well, they really lucked out, because after we wended our way back up to Silver Street, past my office, who should we see, but Die Ubersturmfuhrer himself, walking jauntily with his cane and pseudo East German military garb. Sort of military casual.

Back across the Carter Bridge, we took the back road to Augusta just to see the rolling countryside, some farms, trees changing color, historic houses, and the former Coburn Classical Institute building standing on the hill like a castle.

In Augusta, I swung them by Fort Western and around the State Capitol building. Then it was back to the turnpike, but just for a short bit. I wanted to stop and see something I've passed for the last 11 years. The Center for Maine Craft at the Gardiner Travel Plaza. I had always skipped it, thinking "craft" meant country hearts and angels motifs that I loath, and other JoAnn Fabrics kinds of nicky-nack stuff. I was disabused of this notion when I had a discussion with...well...either the director or an assistant director of the Center during an event at Common Street Arts.

It's not exactly salient, but in the travel plaza, nestled beside the Starbucks and Quiznos and Burger King, and through a glass door, is an amazing collection of the output of Maine's best artists and craftsmen (used in the Star Trekky non-gender specific sense). I couldn't really soak it all in in the limited time we had. Usually, I'd whip out my iPhone and photograph everything to share with you and to inspect more slowly later. But there were several signs saying no photography, so I respected that and tried to rely on my lousy 42-year old memory apparatus.

There was woodwork and furniture, and glasswork, and glassware, and textiles, and weavings, and clocks, and lamps, and paintings and photography, and jewelry and lots of beautiful stuff. Truly a wonderful collection, I thought, hmmm...wouldn't it be cool if a satellite branch was opened in downtown Waterville. The formula is already worked out and the contacts established. It could be located close to Common Street Arts to help build the much-sought-after critical mass.

I filed this place away as a viable Christmas shopping location and a gem to recommend to visitors, since they have to pass it to get to my house anyway, AND it's in the same building as a Starbuck's. Hello?!

But, back in the car and on to Portland it was, where I treated my benefactor drivers to Chinese food at my family's favorite Chinese restaurant in Portland - near the Mall and the airport - Imperial China. Mongolian Beef and hot tea for me. Nikki praised them for being the rare example of a place that, when she requests spicy, really makes it spicy.

And that was the end of the fateful four hour tour. I dropped the ladies curbside at the jetport and bid them the fondest of farewells - well, au revoir really, since we'll be seeing them in December.

On the drive back I communed with my new (used) Camry and we began forming that oh-so-important car-owner bond (probably like mountain men used to have with their horses - except you can't eat a car in a pinch). I reminded myself that I should repeat certain elements of this tour more frequently myself. And perhaps you should check them out on a more leisurely basis.

Olas at Common Street Arts, September 22, 2012

9/23/2012

Something's happening in downtown Waterville. Something wonderful.

Saturday night, Olas brought Arabic-tinged flamenco dancing and singing to downtown Waterville. Gathered in the intimate space of the Common Street Arts gallery, we witnessed amazing musicianship and dancing. I do believe The Magic Portal was opened once again for a span of two hours.

One of the first things that caught my eye when I entered the gallery was the lute-shaped music case on the floor that housed an oud. It is the ancestor of the lute. I was stunned to see one in person, since I had built a fake lute as a prop for Winslow High School's Production of Once Upon A Mattress last year (a lute, I might add, that did not get the billing or stage time it deserved, given the creativity and time consumption of my design - but I digress).

Prior to the performance, audience members visited and took in the photographs and paintings on the walls, of the current gallery show.

Olas quickly created a fantastic synthesis of three disciplines. I've never quite witnessed such interplay between instrumentalist, singer, and dancer. At times the oudist (is that the right term?), Tom Kovacevic, was staring intently at dancer Lindsey Bourassa, and it seemed his instrument was actually a remote control by which he was controlling her body movements. At other times the multi-part clapping rhythms required the musicians to observe each other intently to ensure each part fit perfectly to create an overarching gestalt rhythm.

The oud sounded ancient and exotic. Kovacevic was an intense player, seemingly melding with the instrument, at times hunched over, staring at his own fingers flying up and down the fretless neck. With something on the order of 14 strings, he had ample room for expression.

Singer Chriss Sutherland's voice was powerful and exotic, sometimes reminiscent of a muezzin, sometimes a soft falsetto. There were growled dark passages, as of a half-drunken mournful man, and half-spoken repetitive mumbles like being at a table with a with friend confessing something. His rich and expressive voice conveyed joy and sorrow with undercurrents of Iberian grandeur. Iberian grandeur? Tom, what the heck are you talking about? Well, watch the videos below (but keep in mind, my little iPhone microphone doesn't really do justice to the nuances of Chriss' voice).

And of course the most dramatic element of the evening was dancer Lindsey Bourassa. I myself am a bit shy about dancing in front of others unless the room is dark, I've had a couple of Colorado bulldogs, and preferably everyone else has too. But she was not daunted by the presence of spectators mere feet from her, and danced with conviction and boldness. I have a pretty good idea boldness is a mandatory element of flamenco dancing. The creative multi-color finish-plywood floor of the gallery provided the perfect surface for her percussive footwork. Rapid tapping with stomping punctuation commanded the attention of the viewer and emphasized the patterns and rhythms woven by the musicians backing her.

My favorite moment was when Lindsey was in the center of the room, accompanied only by the clapping of the band members. She was in full flamenco mode with rapid footwork, skirt flourishes, clapping, snapping, and elaborate posturing. Outside the large glass windows of the gallery, I could see some people emerging from the darkness of Castonguay Square. Revealed by the light from the gallery, I could see expressions of wonder and "what the...?" on their faces. They had just exited an event at the Waterville Opera House across the square. They were drawn to the nearer sidewalk. I saw some of them take a few steps back or sideways to scan the windows and door for signage indicating what this amazing place was, where a woman was flamenco dancing in a small art gallery. Good publicity indeed.

When Lindsey's dance ended, the spectators outside joined in the enthusiastic applause. Artistic Coordinator Kate Barnes stepped out and invited them in for a better look, and several entered before the next song and stood along the gallery walls to watch. They were rewarded with several more amazing numbers, and seemed quite content to stand right there, captivated. At the conclusion of the evening, the audience rose to deliver a standing ovation. The performance certainly revitalized my spirit after a day of rainy gloom, contemplating the labor of dismantling my above-ground pool, and other foiled plans.

As I have joined the advisory committee for the formation of the Waterville Arts Collaborative (read more here), I especially loved that Saturday night there were in fact competing cultural events going on, and all downtown. And I hope that moving into 2013 we can create even more of these wonderful moments.

MORE:

Olas' music is wonderful, the dancing is beautiful, and they are raising money to produce a film they have made about their music. More information is here: www.olasmusicanddance.com/

Common Street Arts is in it's first year of giving Waterville a big shot in the arm of art and culture. It is beginning to accomplish a goal that I share - to make downtown Waterville the kind of place to recommend to visiting friends and relatives. They are currently fundraising to keep this momentum going in 2013, and the best way you can help is by becoming a member, here: www.commonstreetarts.com/become-a-member/

Common Street Arts Grand Opening

9/15/2012

It was thrilling and energizing to be in a gallery full of exuberant people Friday evening in downtown Waterville. The Common Street Arts gallery was packed, with a steady flow of visitors cycling in and out. In addition to the people carefully inspecting the paintings of Gideon Bok and photographs by Gary Green, there were numerous clusters of people earnestly discussing the art on the walls, art in general, development of the arts in Waterville,

The crowd doubled later.

and art as it relates to the economic health of the community. The conversation was a healthy din, and you had to lean in to hear people. With delicious hors d'oeuvres and small desserts, and beverages of all stripes, the crowd had more to engage their mouths than just talk. Outside a few people stood on the street talking and sat on the colorful benches outside CSA's beautiful streetside windows. And inside, there was a drum kit and guitars set up for the small-space rock concert of Ramones music later in the evening.

I was pleased to see Mayor Karen Heck present, numerous members of the Waterville Arts Collaborative advisory panel, of which I am a member, members of the Colby faculty, librarian Sarah Sugden, and many others. I enjoyed speaking with Project Coordinator Emilie Knight about the gallery's progress and programming. It's also exciting that people with associations to The Harlow Gallery and Center For Maine Craft were present, and that the event had brought in visitors from other communities. Word must have spread through the art grapevine.

I especially had a great time talking with photographer Gary Green about his work. The inkjet printing process he used for his large-format portraits completely fooled me. I would have sworn they were traditional gelatin silver prints. He informed me of the Epson inkjet printer he uses, capable of producing mind-blowing resolution and nuances of tone. I left feeling excited about photography again - contemplating pulling out and scanning my old prints from undergraduate school; or maybe even picking up the camera with artistic intent again after so many years. And it was a great to be talking with someone about darkroom processes, papers, digital and film cameras. I was flattered when Gary introduced me to someone as a graduate of the photography program at University of Arizona with some degree of esteem. My memories of it are not grandiose, being of poorly ventilated darkrooms squirreled away in a warren of basements. But lately I realize just how much four years of art education affected the way I think and view the world. And I'm glad for it. Those times seem so distant, and much of the knowledge has burrowed its way into hidey-holes in my brain where it is difficult to access, but conversing about matters like film sensitivity and paper tones started to reopen a lot of shuttered windows and let the light back in.