A good cause in the name of a good friend
Tim Anderl, a friend of mine and a friend of Ohio music, asked me to pass this info along:
There is a concert on Saturday at the Nite Owl in Dayton, Ohio and it starts around 9:30. It is a benefit for the Kari Rosenberg Scholarship Fund. Kari received her BFA in Graphic Arts from Ohio University in 2003. She was killed in August 2005 while driving in her hometown of Cincinnati during a particularly bad storm that came as a result of Hurricane Katrina. The scholarship is awarded through Ohio University's art school. I've attached a little more information about Kari at the bottom of this e-mail.
Anyway, the concert features performances by Dayton-native Nathan Peters (of popular Dayton indie rock act Captain of Industry), Kalamazoo Michigan's aggressive emo act Western Sieve, Columbus' premiere instrumental band Brainbow, Akron's proggressive indie metal quintet Beast, and local folk rock songwriter Joe Anderl (and the Miami Valley Sound Machine).
Hope to see you there.
"Kari Rosenberg was always an ambitious woman. She was ambitious when it came to everything in her life: family, friends, love of art and music, everything.
Her family was never at a distance that her cell phone would not take her. I remember particularly those conversations with her mom, how they would just drop in with one another like two old souls comparing the weather. Kari seemed as much in love with her family as she was fascinated by them. I never spent time with the Rosenbergs, but they were always painted with respect, and love, and a connectedness to her. She tapped into a primal sense of unity, and seemed sure of the fact that when you were talking about her family, you were talking about her people.
Kari’s love for music was inspiring. Even when she was listening to something old it was as if she was listening to something new. In my mind’s eye, Kari is always dancing, shaking it, being the best dance partner you could ever ask for. She danced in that way that only true music lovers do, a touch of abandon, a touch of performance.
Perhaps Kari’s social life was her most ambitious endeavor; she managed it as skillfully as every other undertaking in her life. She was the biggest, brightest social butterfly in town, and managed to accumulate about bi-zillion friends in the process. She was unmistakably present with that husky belly laughter that will echo in the back of my mind for the rest of my life. She unleashed her laughter like a drawbridge to her heart, and proved to be, repeatedly, the most open human being I had ever met. Her laughter, never at another’s expense, always seemed like a testament to her openness.
Her art was balanced perfectly as an emerging career and a labor of love. I was proud to know her for so many reasons, and I’m not ashamed to say that her art was one of them. Kari’s art, it seemed to me, showed a side of her that wasn’t accessible in mere conversation. It was something intrinsic to her nature, but hidden as well. I think that’s the tightrope that all genius walks, and Kari in my mind, was most certainly a genius. I’m also very proud to be writing this for a group of people who love Kari and her artwork so deeply that they are working day and night to make a platform for her work. I’m warmed by the fact that her artwork is bringing those of us who love her together posthumously, in the same way that her presence brought me and so many of my friends together every time that we drifted."
- Yvette Nepper