May
08
2018 Wilder Traveling Award

The Art Academy of Cincinnati is pleased to announce that seniors Cara Gallagher and Carly Simendinger are the recipients of the 2018 Stephen H. Wilder Traveling Award, one of the most coveted awards given to graduating seniors.

As a result, Gallagher will pursue performance work in England, and Simendinger will travel to India.

Since receiving this award, Simendinger has embarked on a six-week journey across India.

“When I graduated from the Art Academy of Cincinnati in May of 2018, I was awarded the Wilder Scholarship, which is an award specifically for graduating seniors to continue your education and broaden your horizons through travel. I chose to go to India to study zen meditation and immerse myself in the beautiful patterns and colors that this country is known for. My first few weeks will be spent in a zen ashram in Tamil Nadu and then I will continue up the west coast to the beaches of Kerala and Goa, then to Mumbai and Agra before finishing my journey in New Delhi. I can’t find the words to fully express how grateful I am to be here and for this opportunity. I have already learned so much about myself and I am so excited for the places I will see, the cultures I will experience, and the people I will learn from along the way.”
-Carly Simendinger

Carly Simendinger's thesis exhibition. 2018 Wilder Traveling Award.

The Stephen H. Wilder Traveling Scholarship was first awarded in 1947.

In 1941 Edith Carson Wilder endowed the scholarship in memory of her husband. In turn, it was specified the scholarship be given to deserving students for travel.

Funds serve as a travel stipend for special research in fine art or design in the United States or abroad.

Each applicant must submit a proposal that includes a budget, itinerary, senior thesis, and portfolio. In addition, students must submit a description of how the experience will benefit their artistic goals.

Full-time faculty members, the Academic Dean, and the President vote to select the winners of this award.

 

 

Feb
27
Poetry 4 the People: Sydney Rains

On February 19th, Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a night of poetry reading full of dedicated, strong-willed, and politically activated poets. Below is the poem read by AAC student, Sydney Rains.

 

“Untitled”
 

I’m walking home tonight
in the heat of my month
and my frustrations begin
to calm again, by the street lights
glow upon the asphalt, by the
soft breath of the warming wind,
by the growing volume of
a fire truck’s siren somewhere
close by, and I stay still as I listen.
Trying to make up where they
could be going, and I remember
the house fire nightmare I had
night after night as a child
when I lived in that old yellow
house my father painted white.
My revolution burned there and I
want that shit back. But now, all I see
in this house are maggots and roaches
and dust everywhere and I am
sneezing all the time, and that’s
how I know that this is not a dream,
anymore. This is a pack of rhinoceroses
stampeding down the runway through
your cities and down your blocks,
Like sleep paralysis when you’re fucked up.
Like how the stone cold chest of a gorilla
that used to live down the street was shot
dead and replaced by a baby hippo.
That is how I know this is not a dream.
but I am home now with the roaches
and maggots that cuddle close together
as living things. They’re my only friends
for tonight and sleep peacefully in my
motherly palm. And in the morning I will
answer the door with palms out wide and whisper,
America, here is your child,
you are a mother now.

 

Feb
27
Poetry 4 the People: Cody Dawn Bechtol

On February 19th, Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a night of poetry reading full of dedicated, strong-willed, and politically activated poets. Below is the poem read by AAC student, Cody Dawn Bechtol.

“PSA THIS IS NOT OKAY 2018”

 

I am tired of my bleeding going unappreciated
I am tired of my wounds never healing

 

Open and seeping they wait for you to prod them again
Anticipating the pain as if it’s intrinsic to womanhood at this point

 

 

 

He never hit me but boy did my body suffer

 

Sleepless nights
Black under eyes from rubbing rubbing rubbing

 

 

 

 

Staring at the wide and plush moon
Gently dissociating

 

 

 

 

Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons
Tasers & Tampons

Clinging tightly to my taser and my tampons

 

 

 

You pass me with that bald eagle on your license plate
Men in pickup trucks scare me more than almost anything else in this world

 

 

 

859-667-2958
213-922-7046
513-299-7254
859-927-3001
513-438-2183
575-418-6124
513-449-1492
651-529-3240
513-401-6852
513-880-5358
513-428-6124
513-665-3892
213-237-1091
470-305-0873
513-665-4341

 

 

You think your time has come but you’re wrong
I fantasize about stooping to your level
What if we all literally began to fight back
Hurting the men who slink behind us down alleys
And follow us through department stores

 

 

You get off on the look of discomfort painted across my face
Whispering creepy nothings to me in the line at Home Depot

I imagine the look of surprise on yours when I pounce

 

Women are not a threat to you
Why do you treat us as such

You hit us with no provocation
Your rape us while we are fully clothed

 

 

We refuse to be powerless anymore

Feb
27
Poetry 4 the People: Hailee Herin

On February 19th, Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a night of poetry reading full of dedicated, strong-willed, and politically activated poets. Below is the poem read by AAC student, Hailee Herin.

 
 
“12/14/16″
  
I am a maturing pomegranate.
My heart
my mind
my emotions, so juicy
and you have to be so intimate with it
get it to open,
not crushing the seeds,
avoiding the declining ones
So tender,
unapologetic in her forwardness,
“may I touch myself?”
Not a survival tactic,
Meekness.
 

 

Feb
27
Poetry 4 the People: Mandy Clements

On February 19th, Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a night of poetry reading full of dedicated, strong-willed, and politically activated poets. Below is the poem read by AAC student, Mandy Clements.

 

“Mandy-Lore”

First, let me clear some things up.
I’ve heard there is lore about me.
Mandy-lore.
People have come up with stories about how I, a queer woman, have children.
I’m a lesbian, I have always been a lesbian.
I just didn’t always know it.
But of course, I always knew.
When I was 10 and introduced to the school band, I wanted to play drums.
I wasn’t allowed, drums were for boys.
There was a girl in my class, with big curly dark hair who wore AC/DC shirts who played the drums
I think her name was Christina.
What is the deal with parents of the 80’s and the name Chris?
Christ without the t.
My brother is Chris,
My wife is Christin,
There are Chrissys and Christas and Chrystals and Kristis and Christians and Christophers.
Tofer Grace tried to get away from the name,
Tofer is just an absence of Chris and isn’t that the same as being a Chris? At least in this case?
Growing up I wished my name was Kris or Dawn, my brother’s names.
They thought I was going to be a boy but when I was gendered at birth, I lost the privilege of having those names. I became a Mandy. Stuck with this stupid Barry Manilow nick name. All because I’m a girl. And because I’m a girl who was raised in a conservative family, I was supposed to like boys. And because I’m a girl and have to earn the right to be treated with civility, I did as I was told.
But I like girls.
When I was 14, I watched MTV while babysitting the neighbor’s kids and learned the word bisexual. I immediately clung to that label. I could like girls and boys! Who knew?
I told my boyfriend that I wanted to break up because I liked girls and I needed to learn more about that.

He convinced me not to.
It wasn’t hard. My life was shit and he was nice.
All the while I crushed on Ronnie and Rae (both girls) and my bff was my gbf, he just hadn’t come out yet, I was
unknowingly living out classic gay culture.
When my dad kicked me out of the house at 18, the boyfriend became my husband so I wouldn’t become homeless.
Remember, my family is very conservative.
While I never condoned any of my parents’ cult-like mentality, I still deeply wanted their approval.
So there I was. Married to a man.
Watching lesbian porn on the sly.
Hopping from one part-time job to another unhappy with minimum wage expectations.
School wasn’t an option for me. This was long before my ADHD diagnosis and I was convinced I was too stupid
and too flawed to even attempt going to college.
What do you do when you are married and have no marketable skills? You have babies.
So I became a mom, and let me tell you, I am a damn fine mom. I researched everything. I gave birth to 4 (4!)
boys. I breast fed, I made their baby food, I had my youngest at home with a midwife, I homeschooled and raised chickens so my city kids would know where food came from.
I lost myself completely.
To be fair, I never had a firm grasp of who I was so losing myself was easy.
Then I was 33.
The magical forever-age of Christ.
33 is a universal age of enlightenment.
I was done having babies.
Most of my kids were in school.
And it wasn’t so easy to be lost.
When I found myself, I cried.
I am so gay.
I mean of course I was.
I never wore my wedding ring.
My favorite song has always been “What’s Up” by 4 Non-Blonds.

I was deeply in love with my best friend (and a couple other women through the years).
This isn’t a new hair style for me.
When I was 15 I dressed up as a rainbow for Halloween.
My friends said they knew.
My husband said he knew.
How was I to reconcile the life I had been living with who I am?
How was I supposed to look at the man who knew and fucked me anyway?
I couldn’t.
Obviously.
And even though divorce makes Jesus cry, I left my husband.
Well, actually, I made him leave.
I broke up with Jesus while I was at it.
His expectations and his followers had only ever brought me pain.
In the name of Jesus, my mother broke up with me.
For some reason divorcing your kids does not make Jesus cry.
I’ve only been building this life as a queer mom and college student for a few years.
The Mandy-lore makes me happy, though.

 
Feb
27
Poetry 4 the People: Kiley McVey
On February 19th, Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a night of poetry reading full of dedicated, strong-willed, and politically activated poets. Below is the poem read by AAC student, Kiley McVey.
 
 
 

“A Letter to my Body”

Every time I try to write a poem.
It always begins with the words “I’m sorry.”
But this time it’s different.
Because it’s in the second line.
 
Body forgive me.
I preach the same speech to everyone.
LOVE YOUR BODY DAMMIT.
DON’T HIDE YOUR BODY DAMMIT.
When I get home I throw you away until the next day.
As if you are expendable.
 
Body forgive me.
I have a hunger that never seems to be satisfied.
Constantly asking for too much.
Needing changes just so that you are welcome in your home that is my mirror.
I ask too much of you too many times.
 
Body forgive me.
I do not tell you about the good things.
Because I often feel like the good things are no longer on the surface.
And quite frankly I am tired of digging for diamonds that are not inside me.
 
Body forgive me.
You know the truth.
You fear me because of it.
You know behind my loud volume, I am just a pathetic silent film with no budget.
You love me anyways.
I want to love you someday.
 
Body forgive me.
For I do not deserve you.
Something so strong and hardworking.
I know right now you are busy.
But when you find the time.
Body forgive me.
Photo by Nikki Nesbit
Feb
27
Poetry 4 the People: D.J. Gathers
On February 19th, Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a night of poetry reading full of dedicated, strong-willed, and politically activated poets. Below is the poem read by AAC student, D.J. Gathers.
 
“Dear White People”
Dear White People,
    Stop getting offended at legitimately anything that challenges your position as a majority (even though us mixed breeds are about to weed you the fuck out). Dear White People don’t respond to Black Lives Matter with All Lives Matter because someone will most likely slap the shit out of you. Not in a shitty way, just in a “are you actually serious right now that’s really not the fucking point” kind of way. WE know that all lives matter, however not all lives are being scrutinized, getting their culture constantly appropriated for monetary gain and being disproportionally killed based on the color of their skin so you know, chill the fuck out. Dear White People stop saying Blue Lives Matter because what the fuck is a blue life? I didn’t know Smurfs were so marginalized. We get that you support police, but do it in a non-shitting on a legitimate civil rights movement kind of way.
    Dear White People stop saying that black athletes are privileged bastards because they stand up for (or should I say kneel for) what they believe in. You didn’t give a shit how much money athletes made until one didn’t stand up for your precious piece of ugly red white and blue cloth during the national anthem. Dear White People stop telling other people to stay in their lane. Actors and actresses, athletes, and musicians are all humans and all able to have their own opinions. It’s the “land of the free” right? Dear White People you elected a fucking reality TV star as your goddamn president. Sit down please.
    Dear White People stop asking me why you can’t say the word nigga. You can and will also get slapped and lectured upon use of the word. You overly used it centuries ago to bring us down but we took it and made it our own, so no you can’t have it back. You take everything else from us, why do you want to say nigga so badly? P.S. I’m watching the movement of your lips at every rap concert. Nigga. Dear White People Jesus was NOT white and if he was a living breathing person today, you’d say he looks like a terrorist.
   Dear White People stop getting triggered by statements such as Dear White People because Dear White People is a call to action for Dear White People people who have a ridiculous amount of privilege and don’t always use it the way they should. BUT DJ YOU CAN’T JUST LUMP ME IN WITH ALL THE OTHER BAD WHITE PEOPLE I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING WRONG. Well, now you know how Muslims feel. *Sips tea and puts sun glasses on*. Also, stop fucking trying to get the TV show Dear White People canceled because Dear White People: YOU DON’T HAVE TO FUCKING WATCH IT. Don’t you have Starbucks cups to protest? You know, the REAL issues.
    Dear White People, this is a BIG one, stop assuming that because my mother is white, and I was raised in a white family, that I’m not allowed to care about ANY of this shit. Dear White Family don’t get offended when I say you didn’t prepare me for any of this racism shit but…well….ya know. Dear White Family it is vital for you to remember I’m not just a family member I’m a minority family member. How you all treat me doesn’t translate to every other white person in the world. Can you even imagine?
    Dear White People, don’t EVER refer to me as a “smart one” because I speak in proper English and while we’re at it Dear Black People stop saying that I talk “white”, that’s just an insult to other black people. Dear White People don’t assume black people are “trying to be white” by skateboarding and being into that culture, skateboarding saved my life fuck you very much.
   Dear White People how come when people of color commit crimes they’re considered dangerous thugs and terrorists, but when nothing but white men terrorize Americans every year in school shootings they’re considered lone wolfs with mental problems? Get back to me when you can.
    Dear White People, I’m honestly so curious about this, why do you care more about Harambe and Fiona then any of the hundreds of police brutality victims?  Like foreal I’ve been racking my brain and I can’t understand why there was more outrage from you when Harambe got shot than when Eric Garner was choked to death by 4 police officers while saying “I can’t breathe” 11 times, all for selling loose cigarettes. Get back to me on that too.
    Dear White People responsible for Donald Trump becoming our president were you all drunk at the same time on November 8th orrrrrrrrr what? Like really I’m legitimately fucking curious how you thought this piece of shit would be suitable to run a country. And piece of shit is putting it lightly. Dear Other White People why are you surprised that Donald Trump became our president? I called that from a mile away, and it only confirmed that this is the same ol’ America we’ve always known. You know that feeling you had when trump got elected?-where the bad guys beat the good guys? To black people the bad guys have been beating the good guys for 400 fucking years Jesus Christ.
    I was always told not to wish harm or death on another soul but BOY it’s getting harder the dumber this motherfucker gets. I’ll simply say that if he were no longer existent, I wouldn’t be mad.
    Dear White People I’m sorry. Nah fuck that.
    Dear White People I’m sorry for you. Nah fuck that.
    Dear White People I’m sorry for you to have to have the most privilege out of anyone in the entire world and have to listen to me whine about my life. Nah fuck that.
    Dear White People I’m not sorry for SHIT.
    Dear White People I will never actually apologize.
    Dear White People I will never compromise who I am for your comfort.
    Dear White People stop fucking killing us.
    Dear White People stand up and use your voice.
    Dear White People you’ll stop being lumped in with other dear white people when you realize that dear white people have caused these things to happen and dear white people ignoring a problem because it doesn’t effect dear white people is called privilege.
    Dear White People I hope my mixed race children will see a better world than the one that exists today but I know that’s far fetched due to racist dear white people.
Dear White People,
I’ll let you respond to my grievances after four hundred years of letting us speak.
Photo by, Nikki Nesbit
Feb
26
Brittnee Renee

Photo By, Nikki Nesbit

“I love the Art Academy because I’ve been introduced to some of my best friends that I’ll keep forever and I’ve come across all walks of life the past 4 years I’ve attended. I look at art from all different perspectives now because of critiques and hearing the many different opinions of my peers.”

-Brittnee Renee

Brittany Walker is an African American photographer born in Long Beach, California and raised in Toledo, Ohio. Her photography started off being predominantly street photography, further gravitating towards portraits of people. She really appreciates the beauty in people, and wants to share this beauty with her audience. She also enjoys fashion photography because she believes fashion and models are a representation of beauty and set beauty standards. She wants her photos to represent all kinds of people, especially those with darker skin complexions because for so long “we have been told we aren’t beautiful and are undesirable to the world”. She aims to inspire others and make a difference with her photos by representing people who feel like they can’t conquer a field dominated by people who claim they have no value.

Feb
16
Celedric Reddick

Celedric Reddick is an African American artist born in raised in Dallas, Texas. His main area of focus is digital art/design. His work tends to range depending on how he feels, and can vary with what he would like to learn next. In order to heighten his versatility and knowledge of art, he’d like to learn as many forms and styles of artistic practice as possible.    

-D.J Gathers

“I like being around the diversity in art and creativity that the Art Academy brings. Going to school here have me more freedom to experience different types of people and the type of work they make, this helps me to not strictly think in a design manner. Being a student and an employee of the school helps me to open doors as well as improve my experience in the work field.”

-Celedric Reddick

 

Feb
09
Help-Portrait Movement

The Art Academy of Cincinnati hosted a full day of service to community members through the mission of Help-Portrait, a collective that brings photographers, makeup artists, hair stylists, and volunteers together to serve people in need. On December 2, the AAC served over 100 Cincinnati residents via donation of luxuriating, life-affirming personal services, resulting in professional portraiture and photographs given to people who cannot afford such amenities.

The AAC Help-Portrait Site Coordinator, Andrea Bacca contacted leaders of the Help-Portrait movement to enlist the expertise, time, and resources of AAC students, faculty, and staff to mobilize the movement’s core mission:   “to empower photographers, hairstylists and makeup artists to use their skills, tools and expertise to give back to their local community.” In 2008, Help-Portrait began as an idea that transformed into a movement in just three months. The idea behind Help-Portrait is simple: 1. Find someone in need; 2. Take their portrait; 3. Print their portrait; and 4. Deliver their portrait. The AAC is pleased to join community sites around the world in this mission.

Local Partnering Non-Profit Organizations:
Greater Cincinnati Homeless Coalition; Our Daily Bread; Over-the-Rhine Kitchen; Over-the-Rhine Chamber of Commerce; Over-the-Rhine Community Housing; Over-the-Rhine Recreation Center; Peaslee Neighborhood Center; Seven Hills Community Center; St. Francis Seraph Ministries; Talbert House; Tender Mercies; Walnut Hills Kitchen & Pantry; and YWCA.

About Help-Portrait:Celebrity photographer Jeremy Cowart formed Help-Portrait, a non-profit organization, in 2008 as he contemplated using his skills and expertise to give back to those who may not have the opportunity for a professional photo. The idea is that a photographer has the unique ability to help someone smile, laugh, and return their dignity. It is a movement, a shift in photography. From Bangalore, India to Ghana, Africa to Ubuntu, South Africa to Chukotka, Russia, the language of Help-Portrait crosses cultural and socio-economic barriers. Visit www.help-portrait.com.