This February, we celebrate the journeys and rituals of three local visionaries—a master violist, a theater director, and a narrative painter—whose work brings vibrant renewal to our community.
Artist Profile - Royce McLarry
Every artist has a unique 'origin story' with our community. How has living or working in the OKC area shaped your creative voice, and is there a specific local spot that never fails to inspire you?
My parents, my sister and I moved to Norman from Emporia, KS in the summer of 1972. I attended Jackson Elementary School for grades 4-5 and Whittier Middle School for grades 6-8. The following year we moved to Oklahoma City where I attended Northwest Classen High School. I graduated from Oklahoma City University with a Bachelor of Music Degree in 1987. My father, Lacy McLarry, was Concertmaster of the Oklahoma Symphony during the 1970s and through the mid 1980s. My mother is a singer, composer and retired choir director. My sister is also a violinist.
I played in the Oklahoma Youth Orchestra and attended Oklahoma Summer Arts Institute as a high school student. I remember my earlier days in Norman fondly. I enjoyed playing in the Whittier Middle School Orchestra with my friends. Several of those musicians I continue to play with to this day.
Whether you are tuning an instrument, prepping a canvas, or rehearsing a scene, what does the first hour of your creative process look like? Do you have any 'must-have' rituals to get into the zone
The first hour of preparation for an upcoming performance includes working the more difficult passages. Basically, trying to be as well prepared for the first rehearsal of any upcoming performances as possible.
February often sits at the crossroads of winter’s quiet and the first hints of spring. How does this time of year—or the themes of reflection and renewal—show up in your current work?
February has always been a special month for me. Since it's my birth month it is naturally a month of reflection and renewal.
Art is often a conversation between the creator and the audience. What is one thing you hope a local neighbor feels or thinks about after experiencing your work for the first time?
When performing a piece of music for the first or one hundredth time, I try to be emotionally involved. I think it's important to be really into whatever I'm playing in order to keep the audience's attention for the duration of the performance.
Artist Profile - Kassie Carroll Downey
Every artist has a unique 'origin story' with our community. How has living or working in the OKC area shaped your creative voice, and is there a specific local spot that never fails to inspire you?
There are two local theaters who have greatly impacted my life as an artist over the years, Cimarron Opera and Sooner Theatre. The very first auditioned show I performed in was at Cimarron Opera when I was in 4th grade. It sparked my love for performing and ignited a passion that has been burning ever since. Cimarron Opera later in life gave me the opportunity to direct my first show professionally. Which, at the time, felt like a huge gift as I was a younger director and hadn’t been able to fully hone my skills yet. Sooner Theatre was where I performed in my first musical when I was in middle school which sparked my love for musical theater. Musical Theater is what I ended up getting a bachelors degree in. While I was getting my performance degree at The University of Central Oklahoma Sooner Theatre was the first theater to hire me as a teaching artist where I led camps, taught classes and directed children's theater. These two places have significantly shaped my life over the years more than once. They both have continuously taken chances on me and oftentimes believed in me before I even believed in myself. I owe my life and career to these places and honestly don’t know who or where I’d be without them.
Whether you are tuning an instrument, prepping a canvas, or rehearsing a scene, what does the first hour of your creative process look like? Do you have any 'must-have' rituals to get into the zone?
Every project is different for me. It seems my rituals change depending on the type of project and the role I’m playing, be it performer, director or choreographer. I think the one thing that does stay the same though is my preparedness. Theater is such a collaborative process. I want to make sure I’m doing my part to bring my best self to the table every time.
February often sits at the crossroads of winter’s quiet and the first hints of spring. How does this time of year—or the themes of reflection and renewal—show up in your current work?
Fall and winter tend to be my busiest seasons. I do work on shows in February thru May but my plate seems less full during that time which allows me to truly step back and appreciate the life I get to live. Art is so life changing to so many. When I am busy it’s sometimes hard to truly understand/realize the impact the art I’m doing is making on others. So, I’m grateful for the slower seasons. They allow me to sit in gratitude more and realize all of the blessings I continue to have on a daily basis.
Art is often a conversation between the creator and the audience. What is one thing you hope a local neighbor feels or thinks about after experiencing your work for the first time?
I hope they feel the joy of every artist on and off stage. Life is so short and we as artists are insanely lucky to get to do what we do. Joy is something I try to build into every aspect of the process both on and off stage.
Artist Profile - James Bond
Every artist has a unique 'origin story' with our community. How has living or working in the OKC area shaped your creative voice, and is there a specific local spot that never fails to inspire you?
I love living in Oklahoma. I love the people here, and I love the space. Between Main Street Norman, Scissortail Park, and my family’s land, there are plenty of places that inspire me here. All those places involve Oklahomans connecting with each other and the beautiful land where they live. I lived in Washington DC for a while and started to appreciate the place I grew up more. I learned to notice how things happen slowly here. Conversations stretch until you’re late to something else, people smile on the street, and sometimes there’s no express purpose other than to just connect. It’s nice. It’s inspiring.
I’ve also found that people in Oklahoma tend to reveal themselves over time rather than all at once. There’s a straightforwardness to daily life that I really enjoy, but it sits alongside complexity in the history, the people, and the land itself. That combination between surface simplicity and inner complexity fuels my work. I’m drawn to moments that feel simple upon first glance but become more layered the longer you look. In my paintings, that often shows up as a restrained palette and background paired with a subject that carries depth and narrative weight.
Whether you are tuning an instrument, prepping a canvas, or rehearsing a scene, what does the first hour of your creative process look like? Do you have any 'must-have' rituals to get into the zone?
The first hour is about setting the conditions that I’ve learned facilitate my creativity. Most importantly, I start by sitting with the narrative and overall concept, and that part takes the most time. Once that’s clear, I’ll put on a playlist with a rhythm I can move my brush to, mix my palette, and get to work.
The ritual is really about signaling to myself that I’m entering a different mode that’s a little more grounded in myself and a lot more patient with myself.
February often sits at the crossroads of winter’s quiet and the first hints of spring. How does this time of year—or the themes of reflection and renewal—show up in your current work?
January is for new ideas; February is for making sure they hold up. I see it as the stretch between intention and execution, where most of my background work happens. Editing, refining, and returning to last year’s ideas before they fully take shape isn’t always exciting, but creative work demands persistence. Like winter moving toward spring, a lot of root work is happening beneath the surface long before anything is visible.
Art is often a conversation between the creator and the audience. What is one thing you hope a local neighbor feels or thinks about after experiencing your work for the first time?
I’m less interested in people fully “understanding” the work and more interested in them feeling implicated by it. I hope they leave still thinking about it later. I like viewers of my work to feel involved in it, to speculate about what a figure was doing or thinking, otherwise participate in it, or notice new details after the fact.
If my work encourages curiosity or speculation once it’s no longer in front of them, I feel like it’s done its job. Art doesn’t need to announce meaning. Sometimes it just needs to keep company or carry memory.