A passion forged: Founder of Austin Warrior Arts shares love for martial arts

At 9 years old, Da'Mon Stith knew his life's purpose. He was going to be a ninja, and there wasn't an invading kick, sword or blade powerful enough to stop him. 

When Stith was 8, his father gave him a toy sword with a bright red ruby on its hilt and a streak of jewels that led to the plastic white blade. It was about as sharp as a cafeteria spork, but once he got his hands on the flimsy dagger, no other toy in his collection mattered and his young, swirling mind was fixated on the world of martial arts. 

What was once a young boy's dream has grown into a lifelong passion, and Stith has explored every corner of it through his practice, his teachings and his own armory. He discovered his true identity in the process.

Growing up with Bruce Lee and Taimak as idols

Before then, Stith idolized martial arts legends and movie stars like Bruce Lee, whose high-flying kicks, rapid strikes and cosmic-level charisma drew the young padawan in. He imitated Lee's moves and tried his best to embody his effortless swag. 

Stith's obsession with martial arts culture grew once he started studying karate at age 9. But with his passion came confusion and, for a time, a sense of self-loathing and displacement. As he was going deeper into East Asian art forms, he was unknowingly pulling away from a culture of his own. 

Without any notable Black martial artists in movies or on TV screens during the era, Stith said he clung to the Asian actors of classic action films and shows of the 1970s and '80s.

"I would tell my mom and other people I was Asian, and I don't look any part of Asian," Stith said. "It was different, but things happen in pieces and in stages. When I found my inner-self, it was like holding my breath for a long time and finally being able to breathe."

It wasn't until Stith saw 1985's "The Last Dragon," which starred Taimak as Leroy Green (or Bruce Leroy), that the 11-year-old Austin native saw a martial arts hero that looked like him and shared his affinity for the combative arts. 

Taimak's Bruce Leroy character became a figure of inspiration for Stith, who started studying karate more intensely when his family moved to Okinawa, Japan, for his stepfather's job on a military base. Okinawa — the birthplace of karate — is also where Stith first recognized African history as his second passion, a discovery that later led to a 25-year career of teaching and practicing African martial arts. 

Through the teachings of his eighth-grade teacher Ms. Gross, Stith learned about the kings and queens of ancient Egypt and the leaders of African empires who ruled the continent and conquered neighboring lands. 

Stith discovered his love for capoeira, African warrior tradition

Stith was struck by his teacher's history lessons, and he started researching warrior traditions rooted in Africa and throughout the diaspora. His curiosity grew after he was introduced to capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian martial art that was created by enslaved Africans in the South American country in the early 16th century. 

Stith, who was studying Jeet Kune Do at the time, began studying capoeira after watching the 1993 film "Only the Strong."

As with "The Last Dragon," Stith was enraptured by the sweeping movements and high-flying kicks in the movie. But more anything, he was drawn to the art form's ties to Western and Central African culture.

"People who looked like me were doing a martial art that I felt I had a kinship to," Stith said. "It wasn't based in Asia or Europe, it was an art form that was very Black and African in its presentation and it filled that void for me.

"I didn't understand the art. I just heard the music and saw the movement and it connected with me."

After moving back to Austin at age 17, he became a capoeirista and began studying the movements of Detroit-based martial artist Kilindi Iyi. He saw an advertisement for $80 worth of Iyi's videos in Black Belt Magazine and watched his instructional tapes for hours on end.

From there, Stith adopted Iyi's deceptive kicks, Zulu and Egyptian stick fighting techniques and sweeping takedowns from historical African martial arts and incorporated them into his form of capoeira. 

Stith said the art form opened up his stiff frame, allowing him to enter a state of free flow he never experienced in other disciplines. But capoeira also debunked the thought that African people willingly gave up their bodies, their names and their cultures during the Trans-Atlantic slave trade.

He began practicing and teaching his own style of the historic art form

As he dove further into African history and martial arts, Stith recognized how many Black men and women fought to obtain their freedom and retain their heritage, often times using the combat skills they learned as warriors of battle. 

"What we're told is they brought us over, we were slaves and lost everything, but capoeira shows that we resisted what was happening to us by taking up arms and passing on our DNA and culture," he said."We tried to retain what we had in this motherland to the new land, which would become the breeding ground for new martial arts found in the diaspora."

By 1997, Stith was teaching to students capoeira da rua, or capoeira of the streets, which is a more practical form of the Afro-Brazilian style that he and his training partners developed in Austin. 

Stith started teaching alongside other martial artists at various sites around town and on the University of Texas campus, including the Anna Hiss Gymnasium and an undisclosed space they nicknamed "The Boiler Room" that a faculty member opened up for his group.

He taught students of all ages and backgrounds the footwork, bladed weaponry, counter and defensive strikes of capoeira. And ever since then, Stith has dedicated his life to teaching the art form. 

"I felt I had a purpose and a destination I was heading toward," he said. "I'm the best when I'm doing teaching and sharing my practice. Seeing them grow, being a part of their lives and giving them a piece of their culture makes me feel good." 

Stith began making the weapons he spent years wielding

In 2012, Stith formed the Guild of the Silent Sword, which includes his group of students and experienced capoeiristas. Even before then, he and fellow capoeira practitioner Jeffrey DaShade Johnson started making African weapons under the Street Forge Armory name. 

At first, the duo wanted other companies to make their weapons, but when they saw how costly it would be, they started crafting them on their own.

Stith and Johnson make sickle swords, short and long takoubas, filipino swords, nimcha sabre and other items under the armory brand inside of Co.lab, a creative space that's free for residents of color. They have shipped custom pieces across the country and as far as Australia and Germany, with items priced between $30-65. 

"I love using swords, and now we have the ability to create and make these instruments that can be used for destruction but also require skill, math and science," Stith said. "It's a good feeling to have a skill nobody can take from you. As long as I have access to material and tools, I can provide for my family and there's something very empowering about that."

While the brand has been official for some time, Johnson said Street Forge Armory really got its start when he and Stith were kids.

When Johnson was 9 years old, he also idolized the martial arts icons of the time and began making his own swords from hacksaw, duct tape, hammers and a screwdriver as a chisel. In Japan, Stith created his own weapons by hammering down old golf clubs and shaving them down into make-shift katana swords. 

The two Austinites didn't know each other then, but their passions would bring them together in 1999. Johnson trained under Stith and years later he decided to go into business with him, hoping to enlighten others with the skills that come with capoeira and the confidence that sprouts from the knowledge. 

"What we're finding is people want to be more healthy and more confident in themselves, but when they go to a mixed martial arts gym, they don't see people like them, or the people that look like them don't identify or think like them," Johnson said. "We're trying to make it accessible to everybody in the community."

While Johnson was aware of the martial arts rooted in Africa and the diaspora, he said there are few people as well-versed on the history and are able to pass it on to students as seamlessly as Stith. 

'It's honestly been a healing space for me'

Four days a week, Stith teaches hand-to-hand combat and stick and sword training to students as young as 8 at his Austin Warrior Arts studio at 9705 Burnet Road. On Saturdays, the groups meet at Mueller Park to trade friendly blows with Ancient Egyptian, Ethiopian and North African weapons. 

Student Natalie Joy, whose been working under Stith for a year, said she's found community in a city she's long felt isolated, especially in the martial arts world. 

"It's honestly been a healing space for me," Joy said. "I've always loved martial arts, but I always felt in those spaces kind of 'othered.' But in this space, I feel very included and very accepted. It is healing to do something that my ancestors did way back, and another way I can connect with them and that's very important and impactful for me."

Beyond learning the combative stances, student Erika Crespo said Stith has lifted her confidence and opened her heart at times when she's needed it most. 

"Coming to these classes has helped me learn how to get close to somebody and trust them," Crespo said. "When you come from a trauma history or you're anti-social, you don't get close to people. But in this case, I had to learn how to go with the flow and trust that I don't react too much out of fear or anxiety. I'm really doing something that's making me feel whole and it's been a hard but really beautiful journey."

In continuing his practices and weapon-making, Stith's dreams as a ninja have taken shape in other ways. While he's far from an agent of espionage, he's dedicated his life to education and craftsmanship, and he's looking to amplify everything with the opening of his own studio.

Having taught at local schools, community center, daycares, fitness centers and other spaces for 25 years, Stith said having a place fully dedicated has been his ultimate goal, and he's been living it for the past three months. 

Stith said he has the studio, but they need help keeping the doors open until they can build up their student base, so he and the Austin Warrior Arts team started a GoFundMe  to help pay for the space's rent. 

So far, the group has reached $9,115 of the $12,000 goal from current and former students of Stith and community members, which Stith said is a testament to the support and importance of African martial arts and history. 

"It's like mind-blowing to be honest," Stith said. "I can't describe what it feels like having this space and knowing it's dedicated solely to this is really humbling."

– Austin 360

From small galleries to primetime TV, Dawn Okoro is shining under international spotlight

As a "tall, thin and quiet bookworm" with a love for fashion and culture magazines in Lubbock, artist Dawn Okoro said she always felt like a black sheep in the small, northwestern Texas city. 

While others her age played on playgrounds, she spent hours flipping through the pages of Vogue, Essence, Jet and Ebony magazines.

Her artistry blossomed as she studied the covers and spreads of the iconic publications, with the images of models like Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks broadening her scope and sparking her creative talents.

"For me, my window to the world was in magazines," Okoro said. "My grandma would get them and my mom had a subscription to Jet Magazine and Ebony Magazine, and every month there would be a couple of pages dedicated to fashion. They featured Black fashion designers and some of the Black models and I would just think, 'Wow.'"

With each weekly or monthly issue, Okoro was inspired to replicate the images captured by editorial photographer Richard Avedon and other creative minds of the time. 

In elementary school, she began making drawings of the clothing designs from the magazines, sometimes filling the skin with a mahogany shade where it did not previously exist. And by the time Okoro, 42, was in high school, she took her fashion-centric style to the canvas. 

But Okoro said her family didn't believe a career as a full-time artist was sustainable. 

"Where I grew up, people heard of (Pablo Picasso) or whatever, but my family was kind of like, 'That's a nice hobby, but you need to go be a doctor or a lawyer or engineer,'" Okoro said.

To appease her family, Okoro pursued other avenues. 

She graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with a degree in psychology and a minor in fashion design. She later earned a law degree from Texas Southern University, but despite the opportunities that bloomed from her academic success, her creative passions were always on her mind.

After graduating from TSU, Okoro uprooted her life in Austin to start anew in New York with the hopes of making it as an artist in the Big Apple. 

Okoro began meeting with different artists and curators, but after a year, she and her then-boyfriend — now-husband — were forced to move back to Central Texas due to family and financial strains that worsened with the Great Recession in the late 2000s. 

With no interest in practicing law and to please her family, Okoro put her artistic pursuits on hold and decided to start a career in journalism.

"In my heart, I knew I wanted to do art, but there was still that drive to feel like I'm actually doing something with my life in a way that my family would understand," she said. 

'I thought there would be less struggle and anxiety'

While working at Spectrum News Austin, Okoro said, she wouldn't pick up a paintbrush for months or even years at a time. 

"It was a process," Okoro said. "When I moved back to Texas from New York, I just decided to give up on art. I liked making work, but I think I had a vision of what an artist was. I thought there would be less struggle and anxiety. But it's impossible not to see art in your life. You really can't avoid it; it's everywhere."

Okoro eventually found time to create new art series and finished paintings she hadn't touched in years. 

Her creative revival came at a time of emptiness.

After experiencing the death of loved ones, Okoro recognized the fragility of life and decided to turn to a paintbrush and canvas again. 

"It felt like something was missing," Okoro said. "After maturing, seeing life and experiencing the death of people close to me, it kind of felt like life really is short and I need to start living and I started small from there." 

In 2018, Okoro showcased her "Punk Noir" exhibit at the George Washington Carver Museum, a show that featured towering canvas paintings inspired by local artists and influencers in and around Austin that exuded a "punk spirit," Okoro said. 

The exhibit also included music from Austin-based band BLXPLTN to coincide with the artist's vision. And with the exhibition's success, Okoro drew the attention of local and international gallerists. 

Among her many admirers was Phillip Niemeyer, owner of Northern and Southern Gallery, who marveled at Okoro's eclectic style. 

"When I first saw Okoro, I thought she was amazing from the get-go, and everything she's doing now is just reinforcing that," he said. "I love the way she's constantly exploring her work. She doesn't stay in one place."

Mauve Doyle, the artistic director at Maddox Gallery in London, said she was drawn to Okoro's transparency and creative mind. 

"I like her confidence and her ability to engage with people, take chances and trust in the process of things," Doyle said. "Her future is really bright, and her work is uplifting."

Doyle said Okoro's background in fashion bleeds into her artwork, with many of her subjects painted in deeply enriched colors and positioned in ways that mirror the covers of editorial magazines.

Where to see Dawn Okoro's work

The relatively withdrawn artist has come into her own.

Since 2017, the Houston-born artist has held residencies and exhibitions in Seattle, Miami, New York and London, and she recently collaborated with PepsiCo to have her artwork placed on the brand's Lifewtr bottles. Her work also has been featured in Season 2 of NBC's "Law & Order: Organized Crime." 

"When I watched the episode where Jennifer Beals said my name and showed my painting, I squealed a little," she said. "I’m happy to see some of my goals begin to come to fruition. There is so much more that I can do with art. I’m just getting started."

Okoro has continued to expand her artistic reach since becoming a full-time artist in August 2021, with works such as "VantaBlack," "Kool-Aid Drawings," and "Crown and Glory."

Along with international exhibitions and TV show appearances, her contributions to the arts also have been recognized by Austin organizations.

In February, CapMetro placed portraits from Okoro's "Kool-Aid Drawings" project on city buses, and a wooden bust of the artist was placed inside the Carver Museum for the center's "Peace to the Queen" exhibit of work by artist Jamel Shabazz. 

Given her success as an artist, Okoro said her mother and other family members have applauded her chosen path and accomplishments.

"I think they're proud of me," she said. "I think now that I have more opportunities that are more tangible to see, they understand it better now. I think they're happy to see me happy and doing what I love to do."

After her career pivots and periods of artistic inactivity, Okoro said she's now fully embraced her artistry and individuality. 

"It's taken me years to come to that conclusion, and there are still some times as an adult when those feelings creep in again. But I think just doing my art has helped me a lot, and getting my art out there lets me know it's OK just to be who I am," she said. 

Okoro said her goal is to inspire other artists to accept their differences as their superpowers and to add beauty to the world. 

– Austin American-Statesman

From pink polo shirts to weird boots: How Kanye's fashion has evolved

It’s hard to imagine a time when the masses weren’t drawn to artist and fashion designer Kanye West, a man who's spearheaded some of the biggest cultural shifts and era-defining trends since he first stepped into the industry spotlight.

But the Netflix documentary Jeen-yuhs: A Kanye Trilogy chronicles the days when West was a quietly confident producer who was known for his soul-stirring beats but fighting to land a record deal as a solo artist.

The first two episodes of the three-part film, titled “Act I: Vision” and “Act II: Purpose,” are pieced together from 20-year-old footage recorded by now-director Coodie Simmons, who gave viewers a glimpse into the recording sessions of songs that made West a household name. Simmons, who directed the project with fellow filmmaker Chike Ozah, first turned his camera to West with the belief he would ascend to rap superstardom. But even with his remarkable foresight, not even Simmons envisioned what kind of force West would become in the world of fashion.

Nobody knew — except Ye.

“LOUIS VUITTON DON”

The self-proclaimed “Louis Vuitton Don,” a nickname West first christened himself on the song “Last Call” from his debut album The College Dropout, mixed luxury brand pieces like Dior, Gucci and others with streetwear essentials — which blurred the lines of modern couture forever.

From leather kilts, Margiela masks, and Venetian shutter shades, hip-hops fans and high fashion mavens have been drawn to West's influence. And for the 44-year-old rapper, conquering the fashion industry was a goal he set from the time he signed his record deal at Roc-A-Fella Records.

“If West’s rubber BALENCIAGA RAIN BOOTS aren't evident enough, HIS STYLE has always been AGAINST THE GRAIN.”

In “Act II: Promise,” West made his intentions clear during an interview following his car accident in 2002: “I had an accident and almost died and everything, right? But I was sitting up in the hospital for the first seven days, and I’d just be watching TV and I just came to this revelation …. people are like, ‘You almost just died. What came from this?’ And I just sit back, and just decided that I’m going to be the best, the best, dressed rapper in the game because their gear was crazy whack.”

If West’s rubber Balenciaga rain boots aren't evident enough, his style has always been against the grain. On his song “Touch the Sky,” West addressed how his stylistic choices early in his rap career hindered his success: “Back when they thought pink Polos would hurt the Roc/Before Cam got the sh*t to pop/The doors was closed/I felt like Bad Boy’s street team: I couldn’t work the locks.”

In the same way he was viewed as an artist, West’s clothing style didn’t fit the mold of a “rapper,” which better aligned with the gangster rap image that loomed over the genre in the early 2000s. When everyone was wearing XXXL Mitchell & Ness jerseys, jump-rope length chains and baggy jeans in the early 2000s, he was draped in bright rugby shirts, a monogrammed ​​Louis Vuitton backpack and Ralph Lauren sweaters adorned with the "Polo Bear," later inspiring the “Dropout Bear” that was placed on his first three album covers.

Throughout the documentary, West was also spotted in Superhero and movie-themed graphic T-shirts, knit turtleneck sweaters and a retainer that was far from camera shy. While maligned at the time, a lot of the pieces West wore 15-20 years ago are touted in high fashion circles today, which is a true testament to his vision for future trends. Vintage Polo pieces and other brands West donned in his “College Dropout” days are treasured items for hype beasts and online resellers, and some pairings would even hint at future brand collaborations.

During West’s Def Poetry Jam performance of “All Falls Down” called “Self Conscious,” he wore Adidas Superstars, and even sported a Gap shirt throughout the series, foreshadowing the release of his “Yeezy Gap engineered by Balenciaga” collection in late February.

But in time, everyone would begin to rap, produce and dress like West.

RESISTANCE

Before becoming a rap superstar, West maneuvered through the industry on his own accord, using the scraps and resources he had to place his form of artistic expression at the forefront. And much was the same when it came to fashion. Even with a Louis Vuitton footwear collection, West arranged to intern for Fendi in 2009 alongside the late Virgil Abloh, who was the artistic director at Louis Vuitton's menswear collection before he passed in November 2021.

The New York Times reported that the two men were making $500 a month to run errands and fetch coffees at the famed fashion house. And in a 2013 interview with former BBC Radio 1 host Zane Lowe, West reaffirmed his genius, claiming that he and Abloh introduced the idea of leather jogging pants to Fendi – a trend that would emerge in high-end circles years later.

In 2009, West enlisted industry notables such as Abloh, Don C, Kim Jones, who was Louis Vuitton’s men’s artistic director at the time, and others to establish his first clothing line in 2009: Pastelle. It wasn’t his first dive into the depths of fashion design — that was Mascotte by K West, which was scrapped in 2004, but Pastelle was his first full-fledged attempt at creating his own brand.

But after West’s outburst against Taylor Swift at the 2009 Video Music Awards, Pastelle’s LA office shut down and his plans for the brand’s flagship stores and events soon did as well, according to Complex. His frustrations were made public during an interview on Jimmy Kimmel Live!,”where West talked about the resistance he’s faced at the gates of the fashion world.

“I WANT to make the next RALPH LAUREN.”

“I spent 10,000 hours at this; I dedicated my life to this. And a lot of people say, ‘OK, you know, you have to do music.’ Imma keep doing music, but what if people told me I couldn’t rap. What would have happened? What if people told me I couldn’t perform?’” he said. “I’m only 36 years old, I have other goals and other things, and I’m going to use my platform and every platform to stand up and say, ‘I want to make something. I want to make the next Ralph Lauren.’”

While the interview was nearly a decade ago, it’s reminiscent of the moment in Jeen-yuhs when West played “All Falls Down” to a puzzled music executive, whose colleagues roamed in and out of the room, and he left the Roc-A-Fella office momentarily deflated.

YEEZY EMPIRE

After footwear deals with Louis Vuitton and Nike, West continued to push for his own clothing line and would eventually take the reins of his Yeezy brand in 2015. And in the seven years since its inception, the brand’s apparel and sneaker releases have helped boost West’s estimated $1.8 billion net worth, according to Forbes.

Yes, the numbers are astronomical, but West’s impact has been nearly unmatched because of the stylistic trends he’s set ablaze. He broke ground years ago with collaborations and footwear deals with high fashion brands, inspiring other rappers to level up their drip game and even delve into the business of fashion.

As Yeezy has generated millions of dollars — and quenched the thirst of hype beasts from around the world — he’s opened doors for others to succeed in fashion and has consistently drawn in the industry’s top talent. Designers like Heron Preston and Matthew Williams, who’s now the creative director of Givenchy women’s and men’s collections, have made their marks in fashion after working alongside West and his extended creative team.

So, while many will point to West’s polarizing statements, failed presidential campaign, thickly rubberized rain boots (for now, at least) and his antics on social media, which has half the country calling Pete Davidson “Skete,” his impact in fashion is undeniable and will remain an integral part of his legacy – just as he envisioned.

– Input Mag

'An earworm that never left': Columbus jazzman embraces musical gifts to inspire others

For jazz musician Miles Smith, the poignant sounds of classical strings and soothing tunes from the likes of Duke Ellington, John Coltrane, and other legends of the genre echoed through his home. 

There was never a moment of dullness, Smith, 21, said. Every morning, his ears were filled with the reverberating sounds of trumpets, saxophones and piano keys, with jazz seemingly becoming an inescapable fix.

And with both his parents dedicated musicians and music professors at Ohio State University, the Fort Collins, Colorado native — who moved to Columbus at age 12 —said his  culmination as an instrumentalist was a near formality.

"I like to joke that I was either going to become a musician or be disowned by my parents," Smith said jokingly.

Named after American trumpeter Miles Davis, Smith, now a Dublin resident, picked up the drums at age 3 before switching to the trumpet in sixth grade. From there, "jazz was an earworm that never left his body," Smith said.

"That was the turning point," he said. "I pick up the trumpet in sixth grade and think, 'Maybe this will work.' I picked it up, notes started coming out, it was feeling pretty good."

Instead, his affinity for jazz music soaked deep within him, becoming a sequential part of his every day. And while many his age gravitated to other popular R&B and hip-hop artists, he leaned toward the genre that got its start in the backwaters of New Orleans. 

"It's something to be prideful about," he said. "With jazz becoming a lost art, but still very present even in 2021, is something I'm very proud of. It found its way to me, and jazz music just felt right." 

An affinity for teaching

Now, Smith is a member of the OSU Jazz Emsemble and the OSU Fusion Jazz Ensemble, led by his father Mike Smith.

As he held a picture of a younger Miles Smith resting in his arms as he conducted a band, Mike, 61, looks at his son's artistic growth in awe. 

“He has an absolutely amazing ear," Mike said. "He can hear (the sounds) and spit them out. He formed an intimate relationship with the trumpet. He could figure them out and play them out.”
Mike, a lecturer and jazz professor at OSU, said even during those early stages, he knew Miles would morph into an incredible artist.

That never shocked him. What surprised him is Smith's affinity for teaching, a role he vowed he’d never do.

“I'm thrilled by it," Mike said. "I really am.

"Me and his mom laugh at it because they seemed to do anything but teach. Both of them have found they excel at it. It’s funny but it's heartwarming to see it happen. I hear him giving lessons on Zoom to people and I marvel at how good he is at that.”

Between his commitments at OSU, Smith works as an instructor at various Columbus-area schools and previously held teaching stints at the Lincoln Theatre, a place he frequented often as he built up his own command of the leadpipe. 

Smith's influence on local musicians

Gamal Brown, associate director of The Lincoln Theatre, said Smith’s involvement there has been an incredible addition and has provided assistance toward to developing local musicians through practice and education.

“I'd love to see organizations use (Smith) as the poster child for what jazz is in the city," Brown, 49, said. "They would benefit from him as a source,"

Smith said he works as an instructor to inspire other young, Black kids to embrace their inner musician, just as his professors and mentors did for him. 

Along with his parents’ influence, Smith credits the mentor-to-mentee relationships he’s developed with famed musicians and former professors for his musical maturation. 

Having met and briefly instructed Smith when he attended OSU, Jon Lampley, 32, said he had the talent from the start.

‘He had talent from the start’

Lampley, who currently plays with the house band of "The Late Show With Stephen Colbert," quickly recognized Smith's desire to be great in the time they spent together.

From listening to Smith, Lampley said he knew he had the tools to be a great musician.

"I gravitate towards people who are inspiring and uplifting, and to be able to have a direct line of inspiration at an early point is really cool," he said. "I'm excited to see how Smith progresses, and hopefully, we can make some music in the not-so-distant future."

Anthony Stanco, 32, Smith's former trumpet professor at OSU, said the young musician's budding talents are only surpassed by his dedication to the craft.

"I've always been blown away from his talent," said Stanco, who currently works as a professor at Michigan State University. " To play this music, you have to be around the culture, and Smith does that."

From transcribing the solos of Miles Davis and fellow trumpeter Clifford Brown, Stanco said given Smith's love of the genre, the sky is the limit.

"If you take care of the music, the music will take care of you," he said. "That is huge, and I don't see him having a national name as a far stretch. As his previous instructor, I'm going to help as much as I can."

As his young musical career marches forward, Smith said there are many things he wants to pursue. While grad school is a possibility, he's thought about a full-time role at the Jazz Arts Group or the Columbus Jazz Orchestra and, more recently, teaching on the collegiate level like his two parents. 

But above all, Smith said he wants to reach the heights of Lampley and others who have inspired him. 

– The Columbus Dispatch

'Just be a little nerdier': Austin fashion designer creates 'nerd-wear' based on science

In an industry built on creative nuance and a flair for chic stylings, Austin designer Ryan Britton has embraced the call for originality.

The El Paso-native combined his love for history and science to create the National Bureau of Product Research, a limited clothing brand that merges streetwear with scientific exploration.

Renderings of planetary surfaces, scrapped rocket blueprints, geographical landmarks and patterns of radio beacons, radiation detector dials, and other tech are placed throughout his clothing pieces.

Interwoven into each garment, which range from $69 to $1,000 in price, are stories that unfold like a paperback, with texts and images detailing the inspiration behind Britton's designs and where they come from – an element he says is missing from fashion and the world at large. 

"I feel like The National Bureau can push things forward a bit by advocating for everybody to have a little more nerd in them – to look at our shared reality a little more empirically," the 49-yar-old designer said.

Described as "nerd wear," the brand's designs are directly drawn from decades-old documents from the National Aeronautics and Space Administration that Britton archived following his days as a science reporter. 

On the brand's "Trippy Trajectory" T-shirt, Britton stitches in a graphic that details a mission NASA developed in 1966 to test its ability to dock two ships in space at the same time. 

The inside of the shirt reads: "The graphic on your shirt illustrates the approach angle the Gemini 12 Spacecraft took in its rendezvous and docking with the unmanned Gemini Agena Target Vehicle. A major objective of the Gemini project was to learn how to dock and tether space vehicles together. The Gemini Spacecraft and Agena Target Vehicle left the Earth's surface on different rockets at different times to successfully meet in low Earth orbit. At the mission's conclusion, Gemini 12 (and its two astronauts) parachuted down and landed safely in the ocean. Everything else burned to a crisp in the atmosphere :-D."

An untraditional path to fashion

Britton's path to becoming a designer is as unique as his aero-inspired motifs. 

Before launching National Bureau, he worked as a journalist for Earth & Sky, a daily radio series focused on science and nature. The company began broadcasting in 1991 and eventually switched its operations to online-only. 

While at Earth & Sky, Britton's admiration for astrogeology was at its highest. He began collecting vintage blueprints, drawings and graphics from past projects and interviews with industry scientists from NASA and other organizations, and soon built a database filled with keepsakes.

Britton developed the archive in 2013, and instead of naming the catalog "Ryan's Database," he settled on the National Bureau of Product Research. 

At the time, he didn't know what purpose the catalog would serve, but he knew he wanted to put the valuable relics to use. 

It wasn't until a friend suggested placing one of the graphics on a T-shirt that he considered getting into fashion. And from there, the concept of the clothing line was born. 

"(Fashion) wasn't really a new thing for me," Britton said.

"It was just me kind of in the middle of my career thinking" no one in fashion was telling stories like his, he said. 

"The idea for a fashion brand was so big in my head, I almost felt obligated to do it," he said. "If I didn't do it, I would just be carrying this idea in my head."

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Beyond creating basic print designs, Britton wants to give his consumers an inside look into his clothing brand and embrace the pursuit of knowledge and truth through his designs and the stories they carry. 

"The goal is to create a brand but also a community," he said. "There's value in digging a little bit and understanding truth, like real truth, and understanding the value of scientific method and scientific inquiry.

"Let's just be a little nerdier and our world will benefit."

Education at center of the brand

After some time selling his initial designs, Britton decided to join the first cohort of the Austin Community College Fashion Incubator in October 2020, where he remains a designer-in-residence. He'll have access to the program's space until October this year. 

The Fashion Incubator is housed inside the former Highland Mall – Austin's first suburban shopping mall that closed its doors in 2011 and has been transformed into a campus for Austin Community College.

The fashion design school is now housed inside a 7,500-square-foot space, where aspiring designers and entrepreneurs have access to  $13 million of Gerber Technology, business coaches, networking opportunities and other resources to sharpen their skills. 

The year-long program helped Britton hatch his plans for The National Bureau.

Director and fashion designer Nina Means said Britton quickly refined his concept and learned to compose his intricate designs in a way that celebrates the power of education. 

While niche, National Bureau has everything a brand needs to grow into a successful business, Means said.

"I think Ryan is on to something with The National Bureau, and he's tapped into the archival space and into a customer that's also obsessed with learning," said Means, 41, who worked for American Eagle and other brands before taking on her role at ACC.

Science and innovation are next

Before launching the first National Bureau capsule last year, Britton said it was hard for other designers to grasp his concept.

"Before I actually had clothes made, people just didn't get it," he said. "It's taken some education, drawings and things like that to explain what it is I want to do. But when I hand over a T-shirt, people just get it."

Fellow designer Lord Justice Canton was immediately drawn to the brand after a conversation with Britton in a Los Angeles clothing store. 

Canton, 28, said Britton, a "nerdy, 6-foot white guy with glasses," didn't look like a typical designer, but once he saw the vibrant colors and aero-inspired patterns he created, the Queens-native said he knew Britton and the brand were worth exploring.

"(Britton) is definitely a needle in the haystack," said Canton, who works as a store manager for the LA location of the streetwear brand The Hundreds. "I know a lot of creatives, but a lot of people don't push the boundaries. When I first met him, I knew he was doing something most people don't take the time to do."

Since connecting in LA, Canton has helped Britton drive the creative direction of the National Bureau. From social media posts to public appearances in different pieces, he wants to inspire other lovers of streetwear to put the brand name on their back. 

"It's' going to take some time, but I think he's going to go really far," Canton said. "I think (Britton's) biggest contribution to fashion is his previous work history – going from that to designing. He's also teaching people within the garment. A lot of people that own brands are just not that innovative."

While the first capsule serves as a nod to space exploration, Britton said he's placing computer science and innovation at the center for the next National Bureau line set to release in late May or June. 

So far, the geometric patterns of vintage computer circuit boards are already in play. But above all, Britton said he plans to continue encouraging the world to be a little nerdier.

– Austin American-Statesman