Volume 6 | issue 2
FALL/WINTER 2018
Volume 6 | Issue 2
Fall/Winter 2018
Publisher
Thomasville Center for the Arts
Editor
Michele Arwood
CREATIVE Director
Haile McCollum
Managing Editor
Mindy Roberts
16
Account ExecutiveS
Jenny Dell
Joanne Thomas
COPY EDITOR
Emmy Táncsics
GRAPHIC DESIGNER
Lindsey Strippoli
Photographers
Abby Mims Faircloth
Gabriel Hanway
Sarah Kate
Leslie McKellar
Alicia Osborne
Katie Reeves
Johnston Roberts
Joseph Suarez
Daniel Shippey
Carrie Viohl
22
Writers
Stephanie Burt
Andrea Goto
Emilie Kefalas
William Lamb
Rob Rushin
thomasvillearts.org
600 E. Washington St., Thomasville, GA
229.226.0588
96
contents
Fall/Winter 2018
86
ARTIST
4 Juxtaposition
Stephanie Burt
STORYTELLER
10 Writing Her Story,
Rewriting History
Malvina Hoffman
EXPLORERS
16 Kindred Spirits
Red Hills Rover Rally
PLACEMAKERS
22 Small Ball, Trampled Grass
& Happy Motoring
Tactical Urbanism
28 THOM'S GUIDE
10
MUSE
86 Markets in The Luberon
A Summer in Provence
CONNECTORS
90 Happy Trails
Connecting Community
CREATORS
96 Making it in Thomasville
Blackwater Timber Company
102 Featured Artists
Cover photo by Abby Mims Faircloth
Letter From
the Editor
I can still feel it even though it’s a faint and
distant memory. Convinced my life would never
be the same if I didn’t set off on my first solo
adventure through the deep, dark, mysterious
woods in the backyard, I spent weeks making
my case for my mother. Then, my little bag
packed with provisions—books, Kool-Aid and
crackers—I was practically twisted inside out
with anticipation as I marched downstairs,
brave and determined. Shock ran through me
when I heard the big “NO,” followed by the heavy
finality of “Because I said so.” I may have been
just six years old, but I knew that my quest
that day could have led to the world’s next big
discovery—if only she had said yes!
When we are children we are infinitely curious
and creative people. Over time, by our own
doing and by that of those who care about us
the most, we lose touch with the innate and
necessary sense that drives the urge to discover.
We are told how to do things rather than being
encouraged to figure them out. Originality is
forfeited to the time on the clock. We’re taught
to play it safe, our choices are restricted and
true expression is prohibited. And our children,
the latest generation, are handed cell phones to
occupy them at the dinner table, and they miss
the details that surround them.
As we become adults, more-sophisticated
attitudes chip away at the already weakened
curiosity muscle: pride and the desire to be
perceived as the most knowledgeable; deciding
to be a realist, though we can be “real” from only
one perspective at a time; and wanting to be an
expert, but one who works off only their own
assumptions.
Our work at the Center for the Arts and through
THOM is about creating artistic experiences
that ignite curiosity and encourage people to
examine the world around them. We believe
that meaningful experiences can lead to
discovery, the solving of problems and the next
great artistic work. Can you imagine an entire
2
Start saying “yes” to things that at first may
conjure a reactive “no.” And above all, be curious!
community in which every person discovers
and explores their creativity? We can!
We hope you’ll delve into the pages of this
issue and find yourself learning more about
the people we’re featuring. Start saying “yes” to
things that at first may conjure a reactive “no.”
And above all, be curious!
P.S. My first solo quest wasn’t
a total bust. An equally
adventurous little sister
and Mom tagged along with
me. We didn’t stumble on
anything to change the
world with, but we sure
did discover the joy found
in simple, unscheduled,
unplanned fun.
Michele Arwood
Executive Director, Thomasville Center for the Arts
3
4
Juxta positio n
Written by
Stephanie Burt
Photographed by
Leslie McKellar
I discovered the word in grad school. When it comes to language,
I learned, the spaces between words are often where the meaning
can be found: in the pauses, the breaths, the this-word-afterthat-word.
My naive brain enjoyed pondering how, just by their
proximity, things changed other things, or at least affected those
spaces between. Nevertheless, I soon climbed down from my
precarious perch in the ivory tower and planted myself in the world
of consumer writing. I said goodbye to messy spaces between,
to “studies,” and hello to assignments and deadlines and bylines
and word counts. I found I could wrangle an assignment to write
on X and complete it in such a way that people paid me money.
Yay, me.
But now juxtaposition has come looking for me again and found
me in the work trenches. And before you say “Who cares?” know
that it has come looking for you, too. I write mostly other people’s
stories, through the subject of food and occasionally art and
sometimes music, but never the stock market. So you see, I am
in a bubble. And based on what I’m seeing, many of you are too.
Chances are this isn’t anything you don’t already suspect,
haven’t heard. We have personally curated worlds, and that’s
not necessarily bad; but it does stunt the idea of juxtaposition.
Allow me to use, well, me, to illustrate: I am interested in food;
I am interested in food people; I am interested in cooking and
restaurants, and how my food is grown and whether I want to eat
5
ARTIST
When it comes to language,
I learned, the spaces between
words are often where
the meaning can be found:
in the pauses, the breaths,
the this-word-after-that-word.
meat (I do) and how much if I do, and if I like
green peppers, and if I’ll order that thing on
the menu that I cannot pronounce, or eat
food from a stand on the street or from the
kitchen of the neighbor who brought me a
banana bread as a welcome-to-the-’hood
gift. If I stop there, it is just about food. But
hiding around the edges are lots of deeper
questions. Food is the beginning of the
conversation, not the conversation.
Going beyond the obvious slides me to
the edge of my bubble, and if I choose to
continue past that edge, to stare at that
question, juxtaposition begins to work its
magic. Suddenly, the everyday question
becomes 48-point type on the page instead of
10-point. And that’s uncomfortable. Because
48-point questions usually require that you
stare at them for a while and, in a way, have
them stare back at you.
What does it mean to eat meat? Or prejudge
the cleanliness of my neighbor’s kitchen?
Then juxtaposition really blossoms. It’s not
about connection or resolution as much as
6
it is about proximity, borders. It’s not
a hold-hands-across-the-world Coca-
Cola ad but a national border with lines
on maps and barbed wire atop fences.
Still, that proximity to another place,
or idea, changes the space between you
and it. Just ask El Paso, Texas; or any
art gallery director deciding which art
pieces to place next to each other; or
even you, when you have to speak in
a business meeting right after someone
who just aced their work presentation.
Juxtaposition is messy. It affects us,
“triggers” us, creates problems, says
things about us, says things about the
other person and, in general, resists
definition. That’s because it really is an
alchemic reaction in progress.
Food is just my thing, and I see it
as a form of communication. But
there are countless other forms of
communication, from visual art to
gardening to the aforementioned stock
market. And if we allow ourselves to
delve into that communication—just
pick a subject and dive in—we all
at some point get to questions that
are beyond the thing we are into,
questions that draw us to the edges
of our bubbles. The better we get at
communicating, the more effective we
are at it and the more we understand
it; and the more we then engage with it,
either as conscious observers (like me
with food or perhaps you with a favorite
work of art) or as makers. Either way,
the edge beckons.
Standing on the edge, staring across our
own personal borders, is uncomfortable.
7
ARTIST
Carrying the weight of
any question, whatever
it is, is harder the
longer you carry it, and
in a world where we
can get a resolution
through googling or
prejudging, or doubletapping
for a heart, that
uncomfortableness is
almost too much to bear,
something that seems
almost wrong.
There is a tool that can
ease the discomfort:
curiosity. Curiosity asks,
“What is that?” It says,
“What if?” And with a
smile at the corners of
its mouth, not a wrinkled
brow, continues, “Hmm,
would you look at that?”
It doesn’t judge the
discomfort but gives
you orthotic insoles
for standing for longer
periods while looking at
it. And while it doesn’t
push us further into
something, it keeps us
from running away,
ultimately, from people
who are trying to
communicate to us, keeps
us from running from ourselves.
It helps us stay and say “I am not sure how
I feel.”
I’m not certain the time is right for me to say,
Let’s cross the borders. I think that’s too big a
task for us right now and, frankly, a way
to dismiss the idea. We’re too wrapped up in
our notions of hygge and no dissenting opinions
and defining what art is and what is an
authentic cuisine and who has the copyrights
8
ARTIST
Curiosity asks,
“What is that?” It says,
“What if?”
And with a smile
at the corners of its mouth,
not a wrinkled brow, continues,
“Hmm, would you look at that?”
to which series of beats. And all those have
their place. They do. But juxtaposition is
beckoning, and when you get there, curiosity
will help you cope. What’s after that is
unknown, but most assuredly it is alchemy.
STEPHANIE BURT
Writer, Reader, Traveler and sometimes Cook
@beehivesteph | @southernfork
thesouthernfork.com
9
“There was just no one to promote
Malvina, so within a generation
she’s forgotten.”
Written by
Andrea Goto
Photographed by
Abby Mims Faircloth
Additional photos
provided by
Didi Hoffman
10
writing
her story,
rewriting
history
Everyone has a story to tell—that idea that sits in the back of the head,
calling insistently. Not everyone answers the call; these stories can be
very hard to tell. But bravely doing so shapes what we know about
ourselves, about our history and about our place in the world.
It’s important work, being a storyteller.
Didi Hoffman didn’t know she had a story to tell. Not
at first, anyway. In 2008 Didi was living in Philadelphia,
where she worked in marketing. That year she met Charles
Hoffman III, whom she’d eventually marry. The first time
she visited Charles’ home, Didi was immediately enamored
with the magnificent bronze figures that surrounded her. As
a student of art and having a passion for design (she’s also an
interior designer), Didi was taken by the realistic forms, their
expressive faces, the sense that they were breathing despite
being entirely still.
“It was as if I was hit by a lightning bolt,” Didi says.
11
STORYTELLER
The Muse
The woman behind that lightning bolt was Charles’
great-aunt Malvina Hoffman, a notable artist and
writer in the first half of the 20th century. As a
teenager Hoffman studied under Gutzon Borglum,
the sculptor of Mount Rushmore. She then moved
to Paris and was a student of Auguste Rodin
from 1910 to 1914. In 1929 Hoffman was awarded
probably the largest commission (and highest
payment) in the history of bronze art to create
“The Hall of Man”: 104 sculptures depicting
“racial types” from around the world that
would be featured at the Chicago World’s Fair
in 1933 and become a permanent exhibit at
the Field Museum of Chicago.
On her death in 1966 at age 81, The New York Times
ran a front-page obituary celebrating Hoffman
as “one of the few women to reach first rank as a
sculptor.” Today her works are on display at the
Smithsonian, the New-York Historical Society and
the Art Institute of Chicago, among many others.
A Legacy Lost
“Who?” was Didi’s initial response to Charles
Hoffman’s story of his great-aunt and her
legacy. It was mine as well. How had I not
heard of this accomplished sculptor and
writer, who traveled around the world and
ran with the likes of Henri Matisse,
Gertrude Stein, Anna Pavlova and
William Faulkner?
Posthumously, Malvina Hoffman’s
legacy suffered a huge blow
when “The Hall of Man” ignited
controversy shortly after her
death. As the story goes, civil
rights activists took offense
at the biological notion of
race the exhibit suggested
and demanded that it be
taken down, which the Field
Museum did in 1969. But Didi
explains that Hoffman was hired
not as an ethnographer to depict
the “physical identifiers of race” but
rather to provide a sample of figures
to show humanity in its beautiful
variety. According to Didi’s research,
the Black Panthers and their affiliates
opposed only a hierarchical “Map
of Mankind” that accompanied
the exhibit and showed white
Europeans at the top and
aboriginal “primitives” at the
bottom.
12
It’s important work,
being a storyteller.
13
STORYTELLER
“The map was clearly racist,” Didi Hoffman
acknowledges, “but the Field took the whole
exhibition down and put it in the basement for
the next 50 years.”
A Writer’s Journey
The story planted itself in Didi’s head and would
percolate there for years. She began
to read extensively and research
Malvina Hoffman’s life and career.
Didi discovered many intersections
between her and Hoffman’s lives
beyond the familial one. These
included the Thomasville plantation
on which Didi now lives, which
was designed by Abram Garfield, a
patron and neighbor of Hoffman;
and the sculptor’s bravery in
facing personal and professional
challenges, which gave Didi
strength while she was fighting
her own battle with cancer.
These intersections only strengthened Didi’s
resolve to tell Malvina Hoffman’s story in the most
authentic and accurate way possible—to tell
a story only a few have attempted to tell.
As Didi’s husband has said, “We’re together
because you were supposed to write this story.”
“Truth” is a slippery thing for biographers. The lens
through which we look at a subject inevitably
shapes the story we tell. Didi explains
that the other two books in print about
Malvina Hoffman are written from
an ethnographer’s point of view
and contain information “most of
which is incorrect.” Didi took the
perspective of an artist, intending
to breathe new life into a
legacy that had nearly been
extinguished by controversy.
“There has to be an archive of
the history of women’s art,” Didi
14
STORYTELLER
Didi took the perspective of an artist, intending to
breathe new life into a legacy that had nearly been
extinguished by controversy.
says. “There was just no one to promote Malvina,
so within a generation she’s forgotten.”
Didi was so consumed by Malvina Hoffman
that she felt compelled to write the
initial manuscript in the first person
(she later changed it to third person).
“She was my muse,” Didi says. “I do feel
like she was in my head and pushing me.”
Didi looked for publishers along the way but was
repeatedly told that “we already have too many
stories about women artists,” which raises the
question, When is a story about a celebrated
female artist who shattered the glass ceiling
at the turn of the last century considered one
“too many”?
It took Didi five years to complete Beautiful Bodies:
The Adventures of Malvina Hoffman, which she
self-published this past February. She continues
to lecture around the country about Hoffman’s
legacy, telling the sculptor’s story as often and
in as many ways as possible, bravely reshaping
what women and artists know about ourselves,
our history and our place in the world.
It’s important work, being a storyteller.
Beautiful Bodies: The Adventures
of Malvina Hoffman
by Didi Hoffman
didihoffman.com
15
Written by
William Lamb
Photographed by
Daniel Shippey
16
I have always had an affinity for older, “vintage” things that are simple
and made to last. The classics! So it was natural for me to find myself at
the first Red Hills Rover Rally, where I was surrounded by Land Rovers
and other vintage off-road vehicles that were built unpretentiously, well
before plastics and too much technology took over our lives. Apparently
one doesn’t even have to drive anymore and can let the car do that for
them. That’s not for me or other Rover fanatics. One has to not only
drive these vehicles but know how to drive them. Each has its own set
of the problems, nuisances and rituals that come with owning an older
truck. Each has its own story of ownership, repair and breaking down
on the side of the road that gives it life and, most important, gives it its
soul. Anyone can drive something new and take for granted that it will
always work, and there is beauty in that. Owning a classic vehicle, on
the other hand, is a partnership between you and the truck that can be
RALLYING IN THE RED HILLS
17
ARTIST
expensive and frustrating at times; but just as
with people, those are the things that bond you
together and bring you closer.
As for me, I have owned just about every
4x4 under the sun: Jeep CJ-7, Land Cruisers,
Troopers, Fords, International Scouts and now
my latest infatuation, Land Rovers. What they
lack in reliability they make up for in cool factor.
Sure they are finicky, but understanding their
temperaments and moods is what I find so
intriguing. As I write I have two Defender 110
diesels I have imported and restored to their
former glory. They are both right-hand drive,
which always makes it interesting when I stop
for fuel. It never fails that someone comes over
to take a look and tell me how great my truck
is and, in my mind, how cool I am. But I blow
it when I say goodbye and start to get in on the
left side to drive away. Trying to save myself
from looking totally stupid, I act as if I am
checking on something on the floorboard, but I
don’t think anyone buys it. Our son learned how
to drive stick on one of the Defenders; he’s the
only kid I know who drives a stick backwards
with his left hand. Impressive, I must say.
As I make my way through the Rally and
meet the other drivers, it becomes clear to me
that although we have different vehicles and
infatuations, we are kindred spirits and this is
a subculture all its own. Lined up and staged
in the fresh-cut pasture, we are anxious to get
started and meander down two-track lanes
through some of the most beautiful land one
will ever see. We caravan past old barns and
tenant houses, and it is as if we are in a time
capsule. Pairing these vintage vehicles and
this ancient land makes one feel nostalgic and
provides a sense of relief that a place like this
still exists.
18
EXPLORERS
As I make my way through the Rally and
meet the other drivers, it becomes clear to me
that although we have different vehicles and
infatuations, we are kindred spirits and
this is a subculture all its own.
19
EXPLORERS
Thomasville, Georgia, and the surrounding Red
Hills region is a small speck on the globe but a
very special part of the world. It’s a place where
you can still find dirt roads and the land is as it
has always been. The patrons of this countryside
go to great lengths to preserve the wild quail
habitat and the genteel lifestyle and traditions of
the past. The pageantry of hunting on horseback
and mule-drawn wagons, just as it was done
100 years ago, continues. I am always amazed at
how well all the moving parts involved in a hunt
(dogs, horses, tack, trailers, etc.) are seamlessly
managed. And we with our old trucks are not
much different from the handler with 30 dogs in
the kennel to train and nine horses in pasture to
maintain. It takes a lot of time, effort and, most
important, experience to keep them running well.
Pairing these vintage
vehicles and this ancient
land makes one feel
nostalgic and provides a
sense of relief that a place
like this still exists.
At the end of the ride, we find ourselves in the
shadow of a beautiful historic plantation home,
sipping Bloody Marys and mimosas on our
tailgates and discussing football, hunting and
who broke down. There is always one in the group
and no judgment passed. We’ve all broken down
at one time or the other; it’s just the way it is.
And if I’m going to break down, I can’t think of a
better place to do it than the red-clay dirt roads
and piney woods of Thomasville and the Red Hills
region, in my Rover.
20
ARTIST
RED HILLS ROVER RALLY
The Red Hills Rover Rally officially kicks off the Plantation Wildlife
Arts Festival, held in mid-November every year to coincide with
the start of Thomasville’s quail season. pwaf.org
21
SMALL BALL,
TRAMPLED
GRASS &
Written by
Rob Rushin
Photographed by
Gabe Hanway
HAPPY
MOTORING
22
Placemakers
Fans of baseball and basketball are familiar with the idea
of small ball, a strategy that relies on incremental gains.
In baseball this can mean working to get runners on base
and moving them via base hits or bunts. It is essentially
the opposite of the big-inning approach, in which you
hope for a few lucky big swings to save the day. Small ball
favors creativity, speed and agility. More often than not
it is a winning approach.
Tactical urbanism does not
require a huge investment
to begin.
Tactical urbanism, the small ball of urban development,
is rapidly gaining a foothold in a planning sector that
often favors big-inning-style developments, like megacomplexes,
sports arenas and casinos. Tactical urbanism
does not preclude plans for large developments; it does,
however, ask that communities apply practical, realworld
analysis before committing to larger investments.
Using this approach, communities create small proofof-concept
projects—generated at the grass roots, not as
top-down mandates—for assessing a plan’s chance of
success and public support before investing substantial
resources.
For an example of how tactical urbanism works, consider
this advice, variously attributed to Einstein and some
other eminent wise person. Asked where to place the
walking paths in a new university quad, Einstein (or
whoever) responded, “Do not build any now. Wait a year
and put them where the grass has been trampled down.”
The idea is that community use patterns—the wisdom
of the crowd—will be far more reliable than any central
planner’s bright idea.
Tactical urbanism can take many forms. A city might
close a street to assess whether a pedestrian-only or
23
Placemakers
“Do not build any now. Wait a year
and put them where the grass has been
trampled down.”
limited-traffic thoroughfare would make sense
there. An empty lot could host a food-truck
party to gauge interest in alternative dining
venues; local theater groups could mount
a pop-up performance in an underutilized
space. The possibilities are endless.
Jason King, an urban planner with Dover Kohl
& Partners, is a key player in developing the
Thomasville comprehensive plan and a strong
proponent of tactical urbanism. As a young
AP reporter, King found himself in Belfast,
Northern Ireland, at the height of that
region’s civil unrest. Belfast had banned all
automobile traffic from its downtown as a
security measure.
24
“Everybody thought downtown
Belfast could not survive if
they banned cars, but it turned
out that they actually thrived,”
King says. “It was an accidental
experiment in what we now
call tactical urbanism. I became
fascinated with urban planning.”
Tactical-urbanism tools have
paid off in Thomasville’s core
downtown. The Ritz Amphitheater
is one example of how tactical
experiments mature into
full-blown infrastructure projects.
For several years performances
and art fairs popped up in the park. Makeshift
stages and vendors’ stalls drew enthusiastic
crowds from Thomasville and the region. From
these humble D.I.Y. events, community leaders
recognized the viability of the permanent
facility that now serves as the cultural anchor
of Thomasville’s downtown.
But King envisions tactical urbanism
extending its effectiveness in Thomasville well
beyond the city’s urban core. He believes that
neighborhoods spiraling out from the town
center are ripe for these projects.
“It has to be organic and grassroots,”
King says. “Start with what you have and draw
on that, whether it is a restaurant, a park,
a store, whatever it is. Now create an event.
Close the street or bring in some BBQ trucks
or whatever, and bring people together around
something that says ‘This is our neighborhood,
and it is different from the others because
X, Y and Z.’”
Get people talking to each other, King says,
and things start to happen.
Devan Leavins of the Tallahassee–Leon
County Planning Department concurs.
“When tactical urbanism is initiated by
grassroots groups,” he says, “you tend
to see more positive impacts than just
the issue they are trying to highlight.
In short, they take ownership of their
neighborhood.”
Leavins describes an initiative in
Tallahassee’s Frenchtown neighborhood
where “several property owners decided
to paint their private driveways with
various patterns and colors to brighten
up their street. This led to an event
called Frenchtown Artwalk that happens
twice a month.”
Another Tallahassee enterprise saw
several cockeyed optimists band
together to purchase a long-abandoned
gas station on a down-at-the-heels street
corner south of the capitol complex.
The station was dilapidated, so old the
25
sign said Esso (Exxon replaced that logo in 1973),
and many thought they had taken leave of their
senses.
They cleaned up the service bay to let people mill
around, strung lights from generators and held
a few test events. Simple stuff: a party, a couple
of food trucks, a few cornhole games. They noted
what people liked and what fell flat.
Four years later Happy Motoring is a lively
watering hole at the booming intersection of
FAMU Way, Adams Street and the Cascades
pedestrian bridge. A new Catalina Café roasting
facility is in the works in a former print shop, and
an abandoned Coca-Cola plant is being renovated
to become the new home of Proof Brewing. The
Cascades Garden live-work-play development
is under construction just a block away.
26
PLACEMAKERS
The Shell Oyster Bar, Kosta’s
and the Bahn Thai restaurants will
remain, a reminder that the best
result of tactical urbanism is space for
longtime local residents and businesses
to thrive alongside new innovations.
Best of all, tactical urbanism does not
require a huge investment to begin.
“Give people a vision that showcases
the possibilities of a place,” King says.
“This could be temporary bike lanes
or street closings, a pop-up concert or
movable street trees. Even something
as simple as chalk drawings that
highlight possible boundaries or
wayfinding tools—it just shows people
things that are possible.”
It all comes down to highlighting
the inherent qualities that define
a community and helping people
discover what they can accomplish.
“The most effective aspects of the
grassroots projects are that they
build community,” Leavins says. “When
a neighborhood can organize and come
to an agreement on an improvement,
it becomes easier for local governments
to help make it permanent, because
there is shared vision.”
And once people start to visualize
the possible, imagining the impossible
starts to seem, well, inevitable.
Dover Kohl & Partners
doverkohl.com
27
"All the world's a stage"
- William Shakespeare
Thomasville's Best Kept Secret is in Tallahassee.
MUSE
Markets
in THE
Luberon
Written by
Stephanie Burt
Photographed by
Haile McCollum
86
This summer our creative director,
Haile McCollum, persuaded her family
to take a “vacation from their Rome
and Paris vacation” with a respite in the
Luberon region of Provence. McCollum
had visited there previously through
a Savannah College of Art and Design
alumni program, and she was aching
to get back and experience not only
the light and the tastes of the region
but its pace, of which its markets
are the metronome.
87
MUSE
EXPLORER
“Just for a minute at the markets
each day, a melon in a bag slung
over my shoulder, I would feel
as if I were local,” she says. “I’d
see vendors I began to recognize
who were always trying to get
us to try things.” Cooking is one
of McCollum’s favorite ways to
slow down, and she was inspired
creatively in markets such as
Lacoste and Saint-Rémy-de-
Provence. And she got to engage
with the fruits and meats and
cheese later in her family’s villa
kitchen. But to get to the finale
that was the meal, she first had
to live with a bit of discomfort,
navigating her purchases without
any command of French. “It’s
exactly those moments that I
find really push me creatively,”
McCollum says. We agree: Look
at what she captured with her
iPhone in all the glorious hues
of a summer in Provence.
88
89
Written by
Rob Rushin
Illustrated by
Haile McCollum
90
“I like walking because it is slow, and
I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works
at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then
modern life is moving faster than the speed
of thought or thoughtfulness.”
—Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking
Travelers to England are familiar with the
extensive network of walking trails that
crisscross the country. The motivated flâneur
can literally walk from one end of the island to
another. Long established in common law, the
right of everyone to use these trails, even across
privately held lands, was formalized in the
National Parks and Access to the Countryside
Act 1949. The freedom to walk from one place to
another is serious business in the British Isles.
The post-war, post-1949 United States has
privileged the automobile as the dominant
mode of moving from here to there. In many
flâneur, n.
fläˈnər/
wanderer, stroller,
saunterer;
introduced by
French poet
Charles Baudelaire
c. 1863
91
CONNECTORS
communities, walking even a short distance has
become nearly unthinkable. Fences, car traffic
and lack of sidewalks in many places mean you
can’t get there from here without a car. Anyway,
who has the time?
Fortunately, Thomasville is creating a downtown
cityscape that invites pedestrians. Walkability is
a key driver in the popularity of downtown
Thomasville for locals as well as visitors.
There is still a long way to go.
Much of Thomasville lacks
adequate pedestrian
options. But relief
is on the way. The
recently adopted
comprehensive plan,
Blueprint Thomasville:
2028, calls for a cohesive
network of trails that
link the city’s parks, with
a central trailhead at the
downtown amphitheater. The
plan also requires installing and
repairing sidewalks throughout
the community—sidewalks that
connect residents to the trails
as well as to neighborhood
retail, schools and parks—and
creating safe crosswalks at all
intersections.
“Concurrent with the
development of the Thomasville
Community Trail, a project that is over
10 years in the making, is the creation of a
sidewalk master plan,” says Martha Reynolds,
Thomasville’s neighborhood planner. “The
Community Trail aims to connect Thomasville’s
parks, schools and employment centers and
to provide both a practical and a recreational
walking-biking facility around the downtown.
The sidewalk master plan [creates] criteria
to identify the areas with the most need for
sidewalks in order to prioritize and phase
implementation.”
The comprehensive plan is intended
to make Thomasville one of the
most walkable and physically
interconnected communities in
the Southeast. The title of one
section of the plan encapsulates
the goal: “Maximize Connectivity.”
Right about here, sceptics may fling
this magazine across the room in
disdain. “What possible benefit,”
they may harrumph, “could we
derive from spending money to help
a handful of aimless wanderers?”
For one answer, let’s consider the
ongoing development of Atlanta’s
BeltLine.
For years Atlanta’s Ponce
de Leon Avenue corridor
was a scattershot
assortment of
bars, flophouses,
strip clubs and a
grocery store locals
called the Murder Kroger.
An abandoned railroad bed cut
through the area, a kudzu-choked
refuge for the area’s homeless and addicted, a
leafy sneak-away for transactions in the world’s
oldest profession. Businesses and homes that
backed up to the rail tracks were typically
enveloped in razor wire to deter trespass.
92
CONNECTORS
Let’s be honest: It is darned difficult to discover
something new when you wheel by it at 40 m.p.h.,
radio thrumming and windows
rolled tight.
In 1999, Georgia Tech student Ryan Gravel
submitted a master’s thesis envisioning this
blighted area as the anchor of a 22-mile series
of trails encompassing Atlanta’s downtown.
In 2005 construction began on this rails-totrails
conversion. Now, with more than half
the expanded, 33-mile network complete,
the revitalization driven by this catalyst
infrastructure project has been remarkable.
Anchored by the Ponce City Market—itself part
of an imaginative reclaiming of what was once
the largest Sears store in the South—the fences
and razor wire are gone, and businesses that
93
CONNECTORS
once fortified themselves against intrusion
have opened storefronts facing the trail, giving
pedestrian customers easy access.
The BeltLine has emerged as an open-air art
gallery and a site for pop-up performances and
food trucks and carts. Events there range from
yoga and other fitness classes to history tours
to guided bike rides.
which brings new residents and visitors, which
drives retail, and round and round we go. Like
similar developments across America, from
the Georgia-to-Alabama Silver Comet Trail
to Manhattan’s High Line to San Antonio’s
River Walk, pedestrian- and bike-friendly
infrastructure has proven to be a turnaround
tool in a variety of urban, suburban and
rural settings.
All along the Eastside Trail of the BeltLine,
from the Old Fourth Ward to Inman Park,
through Poncey-Highlands to Piedmont Park,
scores of businesses and residential units
have appeared to make this one of the most
sought-after and vital neighborhoods in metro
Atlanta. In an area once known for empty
lots and abandoned houses, the Eastside Trail
development sparked demand for housing,
But it’s not just about dollars and sense.
Let’s be honest: It is darned difficult to discover
something new when you wheel by it at 40
m.p.h., radio thrumming and windows rolled
tight. The only time you meet a stranger while
you’re in your car is if you have an accident or
some other unpleasant encounter, like
road rage.
94
CONNECTORS
The flâneur, on foot or on a bike
or roller skates, escapes automobile
isolation and exists within
the community. Neighbors,
no longer obstacles to beating
the next light—the
competition—emerge
as friends and
colleagues.
The flâneur, on foot or on a
bike or roller skates, escapes
automobile isolation and
exists within the community.
Neighbors, no longer obstacles
to beating the next light—
the competition—emerge
as friends and colleagues.
Flâneurs find enrichment
even as they enrich the lives
of others.
Hit the trail. Be a flâneur.
City of Thomasville
Comprehensive Plan
thomasville.org
95
“We like to be involved. I don’t think
you can be successful in a community
like Thomasville if you’re not involved
in the community itself.”
96
BLACKWATER
TIMBER
COMPANY
Written by
Emilie Kefalas
Photographed by
Abby Mims Faircloth
What grows in a metropolis? The hyperawareness we lend
large metropolitan regions produces, too often, a selfmade
smoke screen. The allure of cities such as Atlanta,
New York and L.A. is in their ability to attract global talent
and project the illusion that talent will be nurtured there.
In contrast, lesser-known yet more breathable addresses
host an undeniable appeal: the opportunity to stand out.
Consider Thomasville. Slowly yet steadily across many
decades, small businesses put down roots here and
not only survived but shared their success with fellow
creatives and entrepreneurs. The industries thriving here
have their origin in individual creativity, skill and talent.
By employing those qualities metaphorically and literally,
they have outstanding potential to create jobs.
Whether it’s in advertising, architecture, film and
television or even publishing, a little passion and elbow
grease get you further than meets the eye in Thomasville.
With this issue we introduce a series focusing on young
entrepreneurs and businesses both familiar and foreign
who have become notable Southern self-made industry
leaders, teams who took a chance on this town and have
subsequently established themselves and integrated
themselves in the local community.
97
CREATORS
It Begins with
Blackwater
Hull Krech knew he had something special
the moment Blackwater Timber was born
10 years ago. The company sprouted from
his passion for working with wood and an
opportunity he and business partner
Miles Watkins identified in their community’s
expanding entrepreneurial presence.
“You must find something you’re passionate
about,” he says, referring to the best attitude
for aspiring entrepreneurs to have. “Don’t
do it because it’s going to make you a bunch
of money. Do it because you’re passionate
about it. If you’re passionate, people will see
that. The money will come down the road,
but start with the passion.”
Specializing in procuring river-reclaimed
cypress and heart pine, Blackwater obtains
only the most old-growth grain patterns,
from trees strong enough to have weathered
a few hundred years’ worth of seasons.
In a fully equipped mill workshop, Krech,
Watkins and six other team members work
with more than 50 reclaimed- and newwood
species to masterfully design and
create custom flooring, paneling, beams and
millwork. Words do not do their work justice.
The images they post on Blackwater’s
website and social media show just a
fraction of their gorgeously crafted projects.
With a first name like Hull, Krech has
both a passion and a profession that seem
prophetic. Born and raised in Thomasville,
he swears by the support of his community,
who he says made it possible for him to start
“Anybody that knows
Blackwater knows the
passion all of us have
for our products and
for blowing away the
homeowner or end user
with it.”
98
CREATORS
his own business and help it grow exponentially
over a decade.
“As far as a home base, we wouldn’t want
to be anywhere else,” Krech says. “As a whole,
Thomasville has been a great place for us to
raise a family and start and run a business.
There is a lot of community support, and it’s just
a really neat town altogether.”
Wild About Wood
Seventeen years old and working to become
an Eagle Scout, Krech became enamored of the
craft and artistry of working with timber. To this
day he has a twinkle in his eye whenever the
conversation turns to trees.
“I’m a wood nut,” he says. “Anybody that knows
Blackwater knows the passion all of us have
for our products and for blowing away the
homeowner or end user with it.”
Krech’s decision to leave a full-time job to
start Blackwater was risky, he acknowledges,
especially for a man striving to be the best
husband and father he could be. So being
enthusiastic about wood added to his desire to
kick-start this little-business-that-could with
Miles Watkins.
“He [Watkins] came up with the name, and it ties
back to where we get our logs, where the cypress
comes from. It’s coming out of these black-water
creeks and rivers. When we started our business,
that was our primary product line.
“The thing I like the most about it,” Krech
continues, “is, you can take the ugliest, most
rotten, raggedy-looking log out of the bottom of
the river and put a saw into it, and when you
99
ARTIST
“It gives us a creative right to the project versus
what’s written down on a piece of paper,” he says.
“That’s my favorite thing: when I’m able to let the
juices flow and collaborate on a project instead of
just supplying material.”
open it up, it’s some of the most beautiful
wood you’ve ever seen. It just has so
much character and color. Usually, the
uglier the log, the prettier the wood’s
going to be.”
Krech’s favorite type of project is one in
which the homeowner and/or contractor
leans on him and his team to guide the
design and wood-selection processes.
“It gives us a creative right to the project
versus what’s written down on a piece of
paper,” he says. “That’s my favorite thing:
when I’m able to let the juices flow and
collaborate on a project instead of just
supplying material.”
100
CREATORS
“It’s Not All Hull”
Krech makes a point of showing the faces of his
team in his posts on Blackwater’s social media.
From Blackwater’s sharing its support of local T-ball
and football teams and Thomasville Boys and Girls
Club, to name a few, to its spotlighting a completed
project, anyone scrolling through the company’s
posts will immediately recognize that Blackwater
takes immense pride in the community that
embraced it from the beginning.
And Krech’s pride extends to his team. “Without
everyone doing their job, we wouldn’t be successful
in what we’re doing,” he says. “If at all possible
when you’re writing this, I want to make sure it
doesn’t sound like it’s ‘me, me, I, I.’ It’s a team
collaboration.
“Everybody has their own role. I don’t really have a
title. I guess you could say I’m a general manager.
It just takes everybody. I can sell all the wood in
the world, but it’s got to be able to be produced and
shipped out, and without the supportive staff we
have, nothing we do would be possible.”
He pauses, seeming to reflect, then concludes with
this: “We like to be involved. I don’t think you can
be successful in a community like Thomasville if
you’re not involved in the community itself.”
BLACKWATER TIMBER COMPANY
Custom Millwork & Lumber
blackwatertimber.com
101
FEATURED Artists
EMILIE KEFALAS, originally from Decatur, Illinois, is a writer in Burbank,
California. She has contributed to South, Savannah Scene, Connect Savannah,
DoSavannah and ANNA magazines and the website savannah.com, among others.
A proud alumna of the Savannah College of Art and Design’s writing program,
Emilie is on the external communications team at Disney Parks, Experiences, and
Consumer Products. On the side she freelances for South and THOM and runs her
baking blog, RandEm Recipes (randemrecipes.com). emiliekefalas.com
WILLIAM LAMB William Lamb is a self-taught artist and native of Tallahassee
and the Red Hills region. After leaving a 15-year career in finance, William, with
his wife, Margaret, created the lifestyle brand Wm. Lamb & Son, which sells
William’s artwork and designs, including unique clothing and home goods. When
he is not hunting or fishing or down at the coast with his family, you can find
him underneath the hood of whatever classic truck is in his garage. It’s anybody’s
guess what he will do next. wmlambandson.com
LESLIE RYANN MCKELLAR is a travel and editorial photographer in
Charleston, South Carolina. She’s a light packer, a heavy sleeper and a big
believer in letting things unfold organically. leslieryannmckellar.com
KATIE REEVES is an award-winning graphic designer who founded ktcreative
six years ago and specializes in graphic design, printed collateral, marketing,
social media management and photography. She flexes her creative muscles
every day as a mom-preneur and mother of three. She is married to her
sweetheart, Mark, and lives in Tallahassee. ktcreative.net
JOHNSTON ROBERTS believes that self-expression is a precursor to
happiness. He strives to make timeless, emotion-filled art that evokes thought
and inspires creativity. Drawing was his first form of self-expression and would
later lead him into music, videography, photography and design. Johnston
studies interior architecture and design at Florida State University in addition to
working as a photographer specializing in portraits, weddings and graduations.
JRobertsPhotography.net
JOSEPH SUAREZ picked up his first camera while deployed to the United Arab
Emirates and fell in love with traveling as well as the abundance of nature the
world has to offer. Later his focus shifted to the complexity of the human body
and to paying attention to the smaller things in life. wdykjoe.com
TO BECOME A FEATURED ARTIST
Illustrators, Photographers, Writers and Graphic Designers
Please contact: Thomasville Center for the Arts | (229) 226-0588 | thom@thomasvillearts.org
102
103
Change language