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Kiddie Klink Kare: A Day at the Capitol

keli The news team retreated to the foggy climes of the state Capitol today, to feed on the carcass of a news scandal that the Texas Observer felled last month, the Texas Youth Commission's sex-abuse and cover-up scandal. A joint committee on the TYC's operation and management discussed but a small failing of a state agency that turns a blind eye to law enforcement/juvenile offender love: its health-care procedures ... particularly the way it doles out psychotropic drugs to the 6,000 or so kids in its care. UTMB Correctional Managed Care CEO and pediatrician Benny Raimer testified that care in the kiddie clink in Corsicana involves only one primary care physician who visits four hours a week to look at medical charts, and up to 55 pills for some kids. The question, state Sen. Chris Harris, R-Arlington, asked, was who's held accountable for all the "zoned out" kids at the TYC? And in the heat of discussing all the reforms needed, Raimer said as the health care provider who oversees TYC, that his group wants out of the job. "I tried to get out two years ago because it does create a liability for my organization." "Aint that a mess," one senator responded.
The good news is the sex-abuse allegations broke when the legislature was in session, when they could address every screen door on the submarine, so to speak. The even better news is we're meeting up with our SXSW day-parties escort, "Congressman Al" Rindfuss, who couch surfed during his failed bid to win the Democratic nomination in 1998 for Henry Bonilla's District 23.

Posted by Keli Dailey on 3/14/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Dirty words other than lethal injection

austin2

Today, I was a special guest (i.e. not on the program, but scheduled myself in anyway) at the Alternative Spring Break, persented annually by the Texas Students Against the Death Penalty. I'm blogging from Austin. I probably should've mentioned it to y'all earlier, given our avid readers in Austin a heads up, but seeing as those avid Austin readers don't exist (yet) .... well, OK, I kinda forgot. Sorry.

Anyhow ... the Alternative Spring Break is a week of anti-death-penalty activism training for high school and college students. They came from all over the country, and MTV is supposedly following it, as are the ACLU Freedom Files producers.

I was inserted into the last 15 minutes of a "Youth Media Training" seminar led by a Campus Progress representative named Pedro. Mostly, he taught them how to write media alerts for their rallies, panels, and other public events. I was supposed to fill them in on the journalist's side of things. I'd planned on telling them about the Bocharski case (Arizona Supreme Court decision: pdf), and how I first found myself covering death row ... but then I realized that would take my entire slot and half of the next, which featured Bryan McCann, coach of UT's champion debate team.




This a photo from before it started. There were 14 of them, all lazing back in the comfy leather chairs usually filled by State Board of Education asses. You can see the vote-board in the back, and on each of our desks sat an aye/nay/abstain button-box. When my turn came up, I went with what I thought were the most important bits; how the alt-newsweekly cycle works, that you need to get calendar items to Nicole (email) two weeks in advance, and so forth.  After that, I talked about using Myspace to contact the families and friends of death-row inmates, and that would've been what stuck with them -- Wow! Journalists use Myspace too? --  but then the big indie rock kid with the glasses raised his hand. He was one of the stragglers, so he's not in this picture. He was sitting in that first empty chair on the left.

He asked what kind of control/freedom I have over my work?

My response ... I didn't talke about about ethics, or responsibility, or free speech, or the wall between editorial advertising. The first thing that came to mind and out my mouth: "This last week, the words vagina, twat, cunt and bald pussy made it into our copy." 

As soon as I said it, I heard the sucking in of air. That's when I remembered a few of them were high-school students. Completely inappropriate? Nah ...  they're anti-death penalty kids. They'll need to learn how not to flinch

Next, I called on the dreadlocked girl in the front row (also not in the picture), who asked politely, if I could explain how they were used. I explained that I described Colin Farrell as "that fucking irish cunt" in the crossword (that was a giveaway). And then I quoted the Queque's vocabulary as evidenced by this week's tired rant on 210SA's euphemism, "in between down there." 

And that's probably what they'll remember ... well, some of them at least. I think I convinced two San Antonio high schoolers to start writing letters to the editor. I'll settle for comments on the blog. Hooman took a copy of the Bocharski decision that I'd brought. All in all, it went OK, and I'll do better at my upcoming lecture at Texas Intercollegiate Press Association convention. At least I'll know what not to bring up.

It was also successful on the newsgathering front: I got some background on the two anti-death-penalty artworks removed by Rep. Borris Miles. But I think I'll sit on that for a bit.











Posted by Dave Maass on 3/14/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city...

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm at Artpace, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations (212-4900).

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..



...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which was a collection photos he took from a recent trip to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.



Justin's point of view?



On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game. Coincidence?  The synergy between the two entities is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue.

The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more to stand in line to not see a show) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  

Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by Mark Jones on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city...

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm at Artpace, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations (212-4900).

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..



...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which was a collection photos he took from a recent trip to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.



Justin's point of view?



On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game. Coincidence?  The synergy between the two entities is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue.

The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more to stand in line to not see a show) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  

Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by Mark Jones on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city...

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm at Artpace, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations (212-4900).

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..



...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which was a collection photos he took from a recent trip to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.



Justin's point of view?



On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game. Coincidence?  The synergy between the two entities is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue.

The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more to stand in line to not see a show) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  

Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by Mark Jones on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renogitiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



 

Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.  

Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300 is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?


{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1

Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, 300, and SXSW Free Shows

On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows On the Street - Artpace, 2nd Saturday, SXSW Free Shows

As SXSA SA Indiefest proudly (and nervously) took center stage for the week, a few other events and occurrences transpired across our effortlessly serendipitous yet lamer than lame city.

On Thursday night Artpace unveiled the latest work from its three artists-in-residence: Glenn Kaino, Robert Pruitt, and Katja Strunz.  I arrived in time to hear the artists' dialogue, which helped give an important understanding to the work.  According to curator Debra Singer the artists were chosen with contrast in mind, which is cool because in knowing that I don't need to try and force some tenuous connection between the three.  Nonetheless, at least for two of the artists, a shared interest in music and comic books were revealed as influences. For Pruitt, soul/funk album covers were a specific point of departure.

Pruitt's exhibit of photos, drawings, and sculptures "exemplifies his renegotiation of stereotypes of black identity." {1}  Pruitt came across as very sincere and thoughtful as he talked about his work.  He mentioned a shared theme in black culture and history - looking for a way out.  By that he meant escape to another place, and made the connection between the writings of Marcus Garvey to the intergalactic "travels" of Sun Ra to the album covers of Parliament Funkadelic. In several of his pieces, Pruitt created his own escape narrative as different characters look off into the distance waiting to be saved.



If my ears were correct this drawing was entitled "Waiting for the Mothership" - an apparent allusion to the P-Funk album "Mothership Connection".



This sculpture, 100 handcuffs welded together in the shape of a... flyer saucer?, is perhaps another hidden allusion to "Mothership Connection."  Song #5 of the album is entitled, that's right, "Handcuff."



Katja Strunz spoke the least during the dialogue.  Because of this, I learned little about her show, except that it was titled "Lazy Corner", assuming I heard her right.  And worse, my camera battery died before I was able to photograph any of her steel sculptures.  

I was able to borrow this image...



...which is not justice.  There will be one more opportunity to ask her questions for those interested - a brown bag lunch on Wednesday April 11 from noon to 1pm, with food provided by Sip.  Call Artpace for reservations.

Glenn Kaino, in some ways, stole the show during the dialogue with stories about his other life working for Napster and directing a commercial for the Superbowl.  Kaino's kinetic energy translated to his work - both with
We Will Breathe Later (3 hourglasses spinning around with the help of an off-angle centrifuge) and Quarter Mile ( a three-channel video installation.)

Quarter Mile contrasts the varying movements of three different people navigating a quarter of a mile: 1) jazz singer Olu Dara walking through Harlem, 2) race car driver Kenji Yamanaka speeding past a wreck, and 3) "Olympic athlete Sinjin Smith sprinting away from where a destructive storm has hit." {2}

Each video channel begins and ends at the same time but changes speed throughout, expanding and foreshortening the temporal experience, and perhaps, commenting on the Law of Relativity.



In We Will Breathe Later sand from 3 different locations are placed in the separate hourglasses - 1)from the Middle East, 2) from Texas, 3) from silicon valley.  Through the motion of the machine the sand is never allowed to drift downward.  The title of the piece is a quote from some anonymous but infamous graffiti from the May 68 uprisings in Paris.
 
On Friday at Holden's 101 Bar graffiti art was on full display as various artists donated their work to raise money to pay medical bills for a friend.  It was probably the most people I've seen yet at Holden's, though one can't tell from this photo..


...because everyone else was photo right getting hammered.

Also on Friday I stopped by i2i Gallery at 2110 McCullough to see the photos of Justin Parr.  The show was entitled "Invisible Houses", which were photos from a trip he recently took to Marfa.  Here Justin smells one of the dozens of small photos of Marfa featuring a reoccurring red balloon.


Justin's point of view?


On Saturday I heard that a band Temple of Bon Matin was going to play at 1906 S. Flores.  From what I read online I expected to hear a cross between Ornette Coleman and Judas Priest.  The bridge between this gap was loudness. Instead, they played a much quieter set, and perhaps, lost a chance to embrace San Antonio's leathery, metal roots.



Most people were inside 1906 S. Flores for "2nd Saturday" wherein several galleries at this warehouse unveiled new artwork.  At Fl¡ght Gallery, Robert Tatum and Jason Gonzales shared a show.  Below is a vanishing point of Tatum's toilet dispensers entitled "love is...letting it flow."



This gentleman decided to get comfortable with the artwork before he considered making a purchase.



Here are a couple of faceless but irreverent paintings by Jason Gonzales...


Since the Current has started the blog I don't believe the Spurs have lost a game.  Coincidence?  The synergy between the two groups is not obvious but palpable in a sort of indirect way.   If the Spurs do lose a game then I feel confident that chisme libre will continue. The main reason for the Spurs unexpected return to form is the dominating play of Manu Ginobili.  He hasn't played this well since his heroic exploits in the playoffs of the 2005 Championship.  Another coincidence - the concomitant improved play of Manu and the phenomenon of manusexuality.  It's not too late to take the quiz.  Are you a Manusexual?

On Sunday morning after having breakfast at the solid Magnolia Pancake Haus, I went next door to the Embassy theater to see the animated sword and sandals disaster 300.  Later that night I saw Ebert & Roeper's 2 thumbs up review of 300, which is perplexing.  Granted Ebert was on leave this episode I saw, but how could two professional film critics approve this movie?  Seduced by the cgi spectacle, they were confused into equating faithfulness to a graphic novel with interesting filmmaking.  The only real plot twist was when a Benedict Arnold hunchback exposed the secret goat trail to the invading Persian army.  

Looking ahead, after SA Indiefest, I realize more than a few people would like to head up to Austin for SXSW.  I remember getting a free wrist band in 1993 (before one needed anything more) and still thinking that the $40 price was too much.  Now one needs a badge worth half a thousand dollars to be able to confidently see anything.  I've written the festival off since then as being too much of a hassle.  Now, the overwhelming success of the festival has actually created a critical mass where the festival is worthwhile again, sort of.  The preponderance of free day shows makes the festival actually interesting, even if they have nothing officially to do with the festival and are basically mutualistic parasites.  Here is THE website to check for free musical events in case anyone wants to make the trip.  Scroll down to Wednesday and beyond for the free stuff.  Enjoy (at your own risk.)




{1} Kate Green, Artpace Gallery Notes, New Works 07.1
{2} Ditto


Posted by on 3/12/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

6

6

Posted by on 3/11/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Campaign Tactics

Last night, I hit the Jupiter coffee shop off Alamo while waiting for the Flight Gallery to open its Robert Tatum/Jason Gonzales show. Self-centered, as always, I had to admire the Current stack on the counter.



On first glance, I thought, "My god, they've vandalized the best cover we've had since Chuck spoofed Grand Theft Auto." On closer inspection, I realized that they're just really gung-ho to win SA Current's Best Of honors. I'm not endorsing Jupiter, but I am applauding the effort. Is anyone else out there lobbying hard for Best Of?

Posted by on 3/11/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Streater Convicted

So, Theodore Streater was convicted on all six counts yesterday. The report the E-N ran this morning was significantly more balanced (I'd like to think it had something to do with yesterday's blog, but it probably didn't):
 

The court-appointed defense, which called a single witness — a DNA expert who was ridiculed by the prosecution — based Streater's case on how and when the physical evidence was collected and that some of the items stolen from the victims' household, as well as the weapon Streater was accused of using, never were produced.

Defense lawyer Stephanie Boyd suggested the DNA tests were rigged.

"You try to make the steps fit the case," she said of the DNA work done by San Antonio police. Boyd later said in an interview she was merely highlighting the "sloppy" methodology of authorities


I found out at about seven last night, as I was shopping for ready-made italian meals (ravioli, eggplant parmesan) at Central Market, when Assistant District Attorney Susan Skinner called to let me off the hook. I shant be testifying. 

Skinner and I had a long talk (I, pacing through the frozen foods section) about my story and the case. She says she was disappointed in our coverage. 




Posted by Dave Maass on 3/9/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

POWERPOINT PERVERSION : Part 2. Lee Harvey Awkward

... And so we come to slide #15, on the issue of nepotism in city government. As a public official or employee, you cannot be involved in hiring or bossing around your relatives.



Their clipart example: John F. Kennedy, who appointed his brother, Robert, as Attorney General.

The Only Possible Interpretation: 
JFK was unethical.

Now, consider how the last batch of slides employed racially integrated business relationships to represent ethics violations.

What's Bobby best remembered for as attorney general? He ordered troops to the south to force the University of Mississippi to admit a black student. 

Coincidence? Is it too much to suggest that there may be a racist conspiracy if you look between the slides?

Probably. What you can say with certainty: If your slides don't make sense, Chisme Libre will make sense of them for you.


-- Dave Maass



Posted by Dave Maass on 3/9/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Streater Convicted

So, Theodore Streater was convicted on all six counts yesterday. The report the E-N ran this morning was significantly more balanced (I'd like to think it had something to do with yesterday's blog, but it probably didn't):
 

The court-appointed defense, which called a single witness — a DNA expert who was ridiculed by the prosecution — based Streater's case on how and when the physical evidence was collected and that some of the items stolen from the victims' household, as well as the weapon Streater was accused of using, never were produced.

Defense lawyer Stephanie Boyd suggested the DNA tests were rigged.

"You try to make the steps fit the case," she said of the DNA work done by San Antonio police. Boyd later said in an interview she was merely highlighting the "sloppy" methodology of authorities


I found out at about seven last night, as I was shopping for ready-made italian meals (ravioli, eggplant parmesan) at Central Market, when Assistant District Attorney Susan Skinner called to let me off the hook. I shant be testifying. 

Skinner and I had a long talk (I, pacing through the frozen foods section) about my story and the case. She says she was disappointed in our coverage. 




Posted by Dave Maass on 3/9/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

You try to call it a week, but then ...

Posted by Dave Maass at 4:16PM, 03.09.2007

HOLY WOW. At five minutes after five, Governor Perry sent out a press release announcing he'd commuted Doil Lane's death sentence. Here's what the Austin Chronicle had to say about Doil in 2003:


Doil Edward Lane shuffles into the small cage that is the visiting room for death row inmates at the Polunsky Unit in Livingston. His head hangs down as he turns to let the guards remove his handcuffs. When he looks up, his eyes are red, his cheeks splotchy and wet. He crinkles up his face, picks up the telephone that allows him to talk with the visitors on the other side of the window, and says, "It's hard to talk about." So hard, in fact, that Lane sets down the phone, puts his face in his hands, and cries.

Lane is weeping not because he is facing execution, nor even because of his incarceration on death row. He's broken-hearted because prison officials have moved him to another cellblock -- away from his best friend, Marion. Now he has no one to talk to, no one to read and write letters for him. "I really miss him," Lane says more than once, whining like a 7-year-old whose best friend just moved out of town. He cries intermittently, and then asks, "Do you want to see a picture I drew?" When he's sure no guard is watching, he pulls from the waistband of his pants a pencil drawing of his two best friends, Marion Dudley and Leo Little. Lane says Dudley is the only other inmate who will take the time to read and explain things to him. Little helped Lane get books from the prison library -- not books to read (Lane is essentially illiterate), but books with good pictures so that Lane could look at them, trace the images, and color them in with his pencils. His favorite book is The Apple Tree. "It has really good pictures," he says. 

***

Doil Lane is mentally retarded; doctors believe his brain may have been deprived of oxygen during his birth. His biological father was 74 years old and died shortly after Lane was born. His mother and her new husband neglected him, and later abused him both psychologically and sexually. Lane was placed in special-education classes at school, and consistently did poorly there. Eventually the state of Kansas stepped in, removed him from his home and sent him to the Brown School in San Marcos, a residential treatment center for children with developmental disabilities. Testing from his time at the Brown School, and later for his appeals, shows that his intellectual functioning is significantly impaired, that his full scale IQ is 65-67 -- among the lowest 1% of the population -- and that his mental and emotional development is that of an 8- to 10-year-old child. (More)



What's going on with Rick Perry, first the HPV executive order, now this? Suddenly he's got a conscience? A certain right-wing contingent at the Lege is going to have a fit on Monday. 

Anyway, on  that moral victory, I think we can call it a week. Governor Perry, this last YouTube clip  goes out to you:





From YouTuber JNAVA2: Gnarls Barkley at the AT&T Center on Tuesday.


Posted by :Dave Maass on 3/9/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

POWERPOINT PERVERSION : Part 1. Mixed Messages

slideshowthursday


Now, I'm by no means a business expert. I don't give lectures on public speaking. I've never been involved in corporate communications. In fact, I've never given a Powerpoint presentation in my life.

However, I have sat through countless presentations and I know when things make sense and when they don't. There's a general rule of visual logic, which applies to street signs and Powerpoints: The image should always clarify, not confuse the subject.



Slide 1

The City Attorney's Office started out OK. 

Possible Interpretation:
1. The Office of the Attorney General is at City Hall.
2. Ethics applies to everyone at City Hall.
2.  San Antonio is a very ethical city.

(Snicker)
Slide 5

The next slide containing an image isn't so clear.

Possible interpretations:
1. Young, professional, black women and old, gay, white men necessarily have conflictng interests.
 
2. Young, professional, black women and old, gay, white men working together is improper, at least where money's concerned.

Now, of course, while the message is mixed (in more ways than one), I was willing to do the Stephen Colbert thing and pretend not to see race. After all, it's just clip art. But then ....
Slide 12.

The next time you see two people together, it's also a black-white binary relationship. Her hair's different, but it's the same business suit: The young, black, professional woman has become a character in this slide show ... and a mascot for unethical practices.

The question is whether, based on her cameos, she symbolizes a city representative or a special interest. My guess is we're supposed to identify with her a city official. So, then who's the white woman?

Possible Interpretations:
1. Black women are involved in conspiring to forward The Feminist Agenda

2. Black women will pander to white women to advance through the system.

3. Black women carry hand buzzers.

Slide 13.

In defense of the City Attorney's office, we must introduce this slide, which tells employees/officials they can't buy into matters pending before the city.

Possible Interpretations:
1. Selling your house is an ethical violation
2. Buying a house is an ethical violation.

The text and the image don't seem to correlate. So, perhaps we're just confusing racism with slop.


NEXT: LEE HARVEY AWKWARD

Posted by Dave Maass on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Bike Gang Summit

Posted by Mark Jones, 2:17pm, 3/8/07

On March 31st at 6:30 pm something seems to be going down.  Take a look.  Already controversy seems to be brewing...

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Bike Gang Summit


On March 31st at 6:30 pm something seems to be going down.  Take a look.  Already controversy seems to be brewing...

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

6

6

Posted by on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

6

6

Posted by on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Hot Memo: A hall pass for the Tobin Endowment. The Library Formerly Known as Oakwell shakes its fist


Mashup fulminated this week about the Library Board's decision to rename the Library Formerly Known as Oakwell - henceforth known as the Tobin Library at Oakwell - in the wake of a $100,000 gift to the Public Library Foundation from the Tobin Endowment, which requested the re-baptism (no strings attached, of course). (Why, you might be wondering, can't you shake that mental image of a snake swallowing its own tail?) You can read our coverage of the issue - which prompted a board member to resign and the Foundation to withdraw an even larger grant request from the Endowment - here, here, and here.
Today, a reader pointed out that MashUp neglected to emphasize the even-more-damning circumstances: the Library Board recently accepted a committee proposal to reject renaming requests,  but grandfathered in the Tobin Endowment's request to rename Oakwell. Here is the text of a memo to the Library Board from an Oakwell board member that succinctly sums up the b.s. I guess we'll have to rescind that "Citizens' Board of the Year" award.



Memorandum


To: San Antonio Public Library Board of Trustees
From: Aaron Konstam, Member of the Board
            Oakwell Public Library
Date: March 6, 2007
Subject: Name change of Oakwell Library

At first when I heard about the vote to change the name of Oakwell Library I decided to place this event in the "you win a few and lose a few" category of events. But I feel it is necessary to demand a level of fairness from those in Public Service and this decision did not measure up to my standards of fairness.

At your November meeting the Board decided not to make a decision on this name change until they could decide on a set of Naming Guidelines that would cover the renaming of Library facilities. After several months of deliberation a committee tasked with crafting such guidelines came up with a document that made it clear that renaming of Library facilities would not be considered by the Library Board.

That seemed clear enough so it was with some astonishment that I found out that the Library Board voted to change the name of Oakwell Library. Correct me if I am wrong but as I understand it this obvious contradiction of action with the policy accepted was rationalized by saying the the matter of Oakwell's name change had been suggested before the new naming guidelines has been agreed to. If this is true than this argument is characterized by inconsistency and a violation of the stated decision at the November meeting.

Now the Board has recently appealed for help from library patrons (including those from Oakwell) to support your interests in inserting funds for the Library in the Bond issue. Oakwell patrons came out to support you in this effort. They have a right to ask of you to be more fair in dealing with their stated wishes in the renaming question for their Library. In my opinion we did not receive that fairness from you.

Posted by Elaine Wolff on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Subpoena, 'sup? - A Theodore Streater Trial Update


As mentioned in this week's Queque, I've been subpoenaed by the Bexar County District Attorney's Office in the Theodore Streater trial ("An ice cube's chance ..." February 20-26) I'll know soon if I'll need to testify; the jury is deliberating and Assistant District Attorney Susan Skinner says she wants to use me in the sentencing phase.

Streater, by the way, stands accused of a home invasion and multiple counts of sexual assault. He has steadfastly maintained his innocence. The DNA test, he says, were skewed, and the sheriff's investigator fabricated testimony in a search warrant affidavit.

The reason I was subpoenaed is that I conducted a jailhouse interview with Streater while he was representing himself. Skinner said she'll use the interview to discredit Streater.

The sheriff's office had me conduct the interview in one of their interrogation rooms (one-way window and all) while they taped it. Streater knew they were watching and decided to go through with the interview anyway.  John Mahon, a sheriff's investigator, witnessed the interview. Afterward, Mahon told me that this was the first time the sheriff's office and done this sort of thing.  

A few days later Streater wrote to alert me the prosecution was adding me to their witness list. He suggested it was a form of intimidation to suppress the story.




So far the subpoena has meant I've been restricted from covering the trial in person; it's generally what's done. But in this case Skinner offered to waive my exclusion, provided that Streater's attorney was cool with it. Streater's defender Stephanie Boyd, although apologetic, declined. Citing attorney-client privilege, she would not divulge her reasoning.

In January, Streater fired Boyd and opted to represent himself. About a week and a half ago, Streater filed a motion with the court asking for a continuance, saying that psychiatric medications were impairing his ability to defend himself. The judge rejected the motion, and within the next few days, at the recommendation of his defense investigator, Streater accepted Boyd back on his case.

Five days ago, Streater wrote me this in a letter:

"I am totally frustrated and, to be honest, I am very afraid of what's going to happen to me once they convict me .... I feel so sick right now deep in my soul. Because I know what they have planned for me, and there is nothing I can do to stop them. They are like a cult."

While I have made no conclusion about Streater's guilt or innocence -- having been barred from hearing testimony in the case --  my reporting focused on Streater's innocence claim. This is in part due to the investigative focus and love of underdogs here at the alternative press. Mostly though, it is a product of the evidence made available by Streater, his ex-wife, witnesses, former attorneys, court records and news archives, which for the most part support Streater's claims. 

On the other side: The prosecutor and the sheriff's office do not, and generally should not, reveal details of an ongoing investigation. However, certain public documents in this case were withheld by the justice system.

-- Under judicial standards, the turn-around for case-file request should take no more than 10 days. The District Clerk's office has yet to provide access to Streater's court record.

-- A public-information request was also sent to the Sheriff's office, requesting inspection of the service records of the investigator who, according to KENS-5's Joe Conger, fabricated evidence in a search warrant affidavit. First, a Bexar County official called and suggested there was nothing negative in the file, so why not just forget it. I asserted that I needed to see it anyway. Several days later I received a call from an official claiming that a service record for the investigator did not exist.

Express-News court reporters Graeme Zielinski and Elizabeth Allen are covering the trial, and largely accepting the prosecution's argument without skepticism.

YOUNG GIRL TELLS OF ASSAULT ON FAMILY
By Elizabeth Allen, E-N
Web Posted: 03/06/2007 11:03 PM CST

DNA EVIDENCE PRESENTED AT TRIAL
By Elizabeth Allen, E-N
Web Posted: 03/07/2007 10:42 PM CST

JURORS BEGIN DELIBERATIONS IN HOME INVASION CASE

By Elizabeth Allen, E-N
Web Posted: 03/08/2007 11:27 AM CST


All three articles focus on the prosecution's claims; only two vague sentences speaks of Streater's defense:

“The defense lawyers then put Dr. M. AL. Salih on the stand to dispute crime lab methods. Salih, who has a DNA testing lab in San Antonio, said the crime lab skipped important steps.”

Allen dedicates double the word count to the prosecution's counter-argument:

"Salih had a testy exchange with Assistant District Attorney Scott Simpson, who pointed out that Salih is not certified to do these tests at his own laboratory and was only reviewing the state's tests. Simpson also said that if the crime lab followed Salih's recommendations, it would have included more data pointing to Streater."

In the DNA test evaluation obtained by the Current, this is what Salih said:

“With the logic the prosecution used to perform their calculations, you could match anyone in the courtroom to this mixture.”

and

“Only one of the suspect's alleles not present in the mixture is enough to exclude him as a potential contributor to the mixture. Between the four disregarded loci, we have 5 of the suspect's alleles not present.”


 I confirmed this evaluation with forensic geneticist Howard Coleman,  principal of Genelex in Seattle and author of DNA in the Courtroom: A Trial Watcher's Guide.


My article certainly doesn't tell the "whole" story about Theodore Streater and his alleged crimes (my hands are tied, y'all). But it's also clear that the E-N isn't telling it either. When two media outlets produce such widely different reports, I think it's clear that more investigation ought to be done.




Posted by Dave Maass on 3/8/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

POWERPOINT PERVERSION : The Prologue

PROLOGUE:

Is the City Attorney's Office RACIST?

Is the City Attorney's Office out to SMEAR the legacy of John F. Kennedy?

Or are they just INCOMPETENT when it comes to clip art?

Over the next few days, Chisme Libre will expose and analyze the SCANDALOUS slides from the City Attorney's slide show presented to City Council candidates on March 2.  

Stay tuned to see how to make mountains from molehills, Chisme Libre-style.




NEXT: Part 1. Mixed Messages





Posted by :Dave Maass on 3/7/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

I'm not your AT&T sandy

From our friends at the the Electronic Frontier Foundation.

While everyone else is kissing AT&T's ass [down at the Crown Plaza Hotel today the Advertising Federation are giving the company a "boldness in advertising" award, essentially, for hiring so many ad agencies to rollout their 2006 AT&T striped globe logo after putting another notch in their monopoly belt, acquiring SBC] we're blowing kisses at AT&T whistleblower Mark Klein. The former AT&T technician said he wasn't going to work on the Old Ma Bell's farm anymore and came forward last year with internal documents tying AT&T to the government's warrantless (and by one federal judge's standards, unconstitutional) NSA wiretapping program. We're not the only ones trying to give Klein a hickey. He's being honored with the James Madison Freedom of Information Award on March 13 in San Francisco.

Posted by Keli Dailey on 3/7/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Remembering Olvidate del Alamo

Here is video footage from the 4th annual Olvidate del Alamo closing reception held March 6, 2007, at Bihl Haus Arts in the Deco District. The event capped off an exhibition commemorating the 13-day siege of the Alamo, and featured poetry readings as well as artwork. Seen here is a short clip of poet Jesse Cardona, reading from his poem "Olividate del Alamo," and an interview with exhibition curator Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez. The goal of the annual event, says Vasquez y Sanchez, is to reexamine the myths and alleged facts, and explore stories not often covered in mainstream history, literature, and art.

Posted by John Haskell on 3/7/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

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On the Street - Soap, Lasers, and Prosthetics

ots

Friday night came to life again in Southtown under what appeared to be a full moon.   It was not the largest crowd I’ve seen for a First Friday at the Bluestar complex, but it was still filled with episodic moments of interest, which is to be expected when so many people are packed together getting drunk.

For me the impetus began earlier that day when I received a late email promoting a video projection at 3 Walls that night by filmmaker Cauleen Smith entitled “Right Hand Only, Left Hand Lonely.”  After discussing the Austin film scene with Cauleen briefly, I was able to get some insights into the mysterious title of the show.   The motivation came from her experience when she traveled through Africa and Asia. At times when she would share meals with her host she ate meals using her right hand instead of using the familiar fork and spoon.  This cultural distinction was inhibitive yet later became symbolic for the video projection seen below.

What interested me more were still photos of Ivory soap in increasing stages of annihilation.  What was once typical (if not iconic) became exotic.  I’m not sure of her technique (I think a microwave was involved) but she was able to transform different bars of soap into ethereal blobs.  I was lucky to see one of these bars of soap in the back room of the gallery.  It was much more interesting than the photos, and fittingly I have no photo to document how more interesting it was than the other photos, if that makes any sense.

Outside in one of the back alleys of Bluestar I ran into an electric rap and laser show.  Though more spectacle than substance, a young rapper was able to distract a fair amount of pedestrians who were on their way to La Tuna.  One guy asked me why I was taking a photo.   He wanted to make sure that I didn’t actually think this was a true representation of hip hop.  I told him I was more into the laser aspect and not the music.  That seemed to put him at ease.

I thought there would be more people out on the town for First Friday but I think they might have been distracted by the Spurs game that night.  It was perhaps at this exact moment during the laser rap show that Manu was going hibachi in the 3rd quarter versus the Orlando Magic and turning what seemed to be a close game into a blowout.  The Spurs finally are on a roll.  But is the city too bored with their success to notice?

The next morning, after breakfast at Café Chiapas in Southtown, I went along with a group to a large but anonymous warehouse on the eastside on 403 Dawson.  This huge warehouse is home to a business called Architectural Antiques.  Basically, they salvage architectural items from old homes and sell them to people interested in doing historical renovations and remodeling.  Their collection is absolutely astounding in its enormity.  The proprietors Barry and Lindsay Rusler posses a wealth of knowledge of San Antonio’s historic architecture.  For example, I learned that 1926 was the last year homes were made with the legendary longleaf pine, which is perhaps of interest to those looking to buy an old house.

Monday morning while in the computer lab at school I talked with local graffiti artist Duo.  He gave me a flyer to a benefit he and his crew from the Clogged Caps scene are putting together at Holdens 101 on Friday.  The proceeds go to benefit the father of one of their friends who is going through a struggle with medical bills stemming from a gun accident.  The flyer is unusual in its depiction of the prosthetic leg, but for that reason its also pretty funny.  Leonard Spinnard and others will be DJing hip hop.  Duo and others will be spraying live graffiti art.  Check it out.

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/6/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

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SPOILER ALERT: A moment of silence, please, for a nerd's fallen fictional heroes

If you're passing by the comic shop and you notice the flag at half mast, it's because this week nerds all over the world are mourning the passing of two heroes who served their nations valiantly. We shall honor them for fulfilling the Valkyrie Creed (Battle Beyond the Stars): "Live fast, fight well, and a have a beautiful ending."


  
Rest in Peace, Captain Kara Thrace. You, Battlestar Galactica's resident hotshot, defended the human race with every cell of your arrogant, disobedient being. You piloted a Cylon Raider; you rescued the Arrow of Apollo from occupied Caprica; you slugged Colonel Tye in the kisser. You had your faults: You were responsible for the death of your lover and Commander Adama's son; you never quite broke free of alcoholism; you sabotaged your true love by marrying another; and in the end, you chose suicide as your escape - a nose dive into a galactic storm. But Kara, dear Kara, I have a feeling you'll be back. In your last moments, you spoke of crossing over to "they"who were waiting for you. Could it be true, as some of us suspected all along? Kara, are you a Cylon? Will you be reborn on the Resurrection Ship? By the Gods, we hope so.






And heavy are the hearts of free men at the fate of King Leonidas, ruler of Sparta and the central character of 300, which the lucky ones pre-screened last night. The cinematography was as stunning as your self-sacrifice; the gore as disturbing as the harshness of Spartan childhood.  And although the film was largely slow-motion action and patriotic bellowing, it was true, shot-by-shot, to Frank Miller's graphic novel. We clapped and whooped and sobbed through each battle. With your demise, you showed us what Jet Li's Hero did not: A champion, sacrificing himself for his people, by calmly accepting a downpour of 10,000 arrows.


And no I'm not ashamed I just wrote all that.

OK. Maybe just a little ...

- Dave Maass

Posted by Dave Maass on 3/6/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

A call for Katrina survivors from Jump-Start

Uprooted: The Katrina Project will be at Jump-Start Performance Co. March 30 & 31 at 8:00 p.m. Uprooted explores Gulf Coast artists’ responses to the disaster and their efforts to reconstruct their lives and communities. This piece is being offered to those who have displaced people in their communities and/or people who are concerned that the conditions that lead to the Katrina disaster may very well be brewing in their communities and wish therefore to encourage dialogue about what should be done to avoid similar results.

From March 25th thru March 31st, an ensemble of a dozen displaced actors, poets, dancers and musicians from the Gulf Coast will be in San Antonio for a week-long residency hosted by Jump-Start. Under the guidance of John O’Neal, Artistic Director of New Orleans’ Junebug Productions, they will conduct multi-disciplinary workshops with local artists and community members, including Katrina survivors who have relocated to San Antonio. Jump-Start invites any displaced persons to call and find out more about the performances and to come see the show. Please call (210) 227-5867. 

Posted by Annele Spector on 3/6/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Soap, Lasers, and Prosthetics

ots

Friday night came to life again in Southtown under what appeared to be a full moon.   It was not the largest crowd I’ve seen for a First Friday at the Bluestar complex, but it was still filled with episodic moments of interest, which is to be expected when so many people are packed together getting drunk.

For me the impetus began earlier that day when I received a late email promoting a video projection at 3 Walls that night by filmmaker Cauleen Smith entitled “Right Hand Only, Left Hand Lonely.”  After discussing the Austin film scene with Cauleen briefly, I was able to get some insights into the mysterious title of the show.   The motivation came from her experience when she traveled through Africa and Asia. At times when she would share meals with her host she ate meals using her right hand instead of using the familiar fork and spoon.  This cultural distinction was inhibitive yet later became symbolic for the video projection seen below.

What interested me more were still photos of Ivory soap in increasing stages of annihilation.  What was once typical (if not iconic) became exotic.  I’m not sure of her technique (I think a microwave was involved) but she was able to transform different bars of soap into ethereal blobs.  I was lucky to see one of these bars of soap in the back room of the gallery.  It was much more interesting than the photos, and fittingly I have no photo to document how more interesting it was than the other photos, if that makes any sense.

Outside in one of the back alleys of Bluestar I ran into an electric light and laser show.  Though more spectacle than substance, a young rapper was able to distract a fair amount of pedestrians who were on their way to La Tuna.  One guy asked me why I was taking a photo.   He wanted to make sure that I didn’t actually think this was a true representation of hip hop.  I told him I was more into the laser aspect and not the music.  That seemed to put him at ease.

I thought there would be more people out on the town for First Friday but I think they might have been distracted by the Spurs game that night.  It was perhaps at this exact moment during the laser rap show that Manu was going hibachi in the 3rd quarter versus the Orlando Magic and turning what seemed to be a close game into a blowout.  The Spurs finally are on a roll.  But is the city too bored with their success to notice?

The next morning, after breakfast at Café Chiapas in Southtown, I went along with a group to a large but anonymous warehouse on the eastside on 403 Dawson.  This huge warehouse is home to a business called Architectural Antiques.  Basically, they salvage architectural items from old homes and sell them to people interested in doing historical renovations and remodeling.  Their collection is absolutely astounding in its enormity.  The proprietors Barry and Lindsay Rusler posses a wealth of knowledge of San Antonio’s historic architecture.  For example, I learned that 1926 was the last year homes were made with the legendary longleaf pine, which is perhaps of interest to those looking to buy an old house.

Monday morning while in the computer lab at school I talked with local graffiti artist Duo.  He gave me a flyer to a benefit he and his crew from the Clogged Caps scene are putting together at Holdens 101 on Friday.  The proceeds go to benefit the father of one of their friends who is going through a struggle with medical bills stemming from a gun accident.  The flyer is unusual in its depiction of the prosthetic leg, but for that reason its also pretty funny.  Leonard Spinnard and others will be DJing hip hop.  Duo and others will be spraying live graffiti art.  Check it out.

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/6/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street - Soap, Lasers, and Prosthetics

Friday night came to life again in Southtown under what appeared to be a full moon.   It was not the largest crowd I’ve seen for a First Friday at the Bluestar complex, but it was still filled with episodic moments of interest, which is to be expected when so many people are packed together getting drunk.

For me the impetus began earlier that day when I received a late email promoting a video projection at 3 Walls that night by filmmaker Cauleen Smith entitled “Right Hand Only, Left Hand Lonely.”  After discussing the Austin film scene with Cauleen briefly, I was able to get some insights into the mysterious title of the show.   The motivation came from her experience when she traveled through Africa and Asia. At times when she would share meals with her host she ate meals using her right hand instead of using the familiar fork and spoon.  This cultural distinction was inhibitive yet later became symbolic for the video projection seen below.

What interested me more were still photos of Ivory soap in increasing stages of annihilation.  What was once typical (if not iconic) became exotic.  I’m not sure of her technique (I think a microwave was involved) but she was able to transform different bars of soap into ethereal blobs.  I was lucky to see one of these bars of soap in the back room of the gallery.  It was much more interesting than the photos, and fittingly I have no photo to document how more interesting it was than the other photos, if that makes any sense.

Outside in one of the back alleys of Bluestar I ran into an electric light and laser show.  Though more spectacle than substance, a young rapper was able to distract a fair amount of pedestrians who were on their way to La Tuna.  One guy asked me why I was taking a photo.   He wanted to make sure that I didn’t actually think this was a true representation of hip hop.  I told him I was more into the laser aspect and not the music.  That seemed to put him at ease.

I thought there would be more people out on the town for First Friday but I think they might have been distracted by the Spurs game that night.  It was perhaps at this exact moment during the laser rap show that Manu was going hibachi in the 3rd quarter versus the Orlando Magic and turning what seemed to be a close game into a blowout.  The Spurs finally are on a roll.  But is the city too bored with their success to notice?

The next morning, after breakfast at Café Chiapas in Southtown, I went along with a group to a large but anonymous warehouse on the eastside on 403 Dawson.  This huge warehouse is home to a business called Architectural Antiques.  Basically, they salvage architectural items from old homes and sell them to people interested in doing historical renovations and remodeling.  Their collection is absolutely astounding in its enormity.  The proprietors Barry and Lindsay Rusler posses a wealth of knowledge of San Antonio’s historic architecture.  For example, I learned that 1926 was the last year homes were made with the legendary longleaf pine, which is perhaps of interest to those looking to buy an old house.

Monday morning while in the computer lab at school I talked with local graffiti artist Duo.  He gave me a flyer to a benefit he and his crew from the Clogged Caps scene are putting together at Holdens 101 on Friday.  The proceeds go to benefit the father of one of their friends who is going through a struggle with medical bills stemming from a gun accident.  The flyer is unusual in its depiction of the prosthetic leg, but for that reason its also pretty funny.

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/6/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

The Creature from the Kitchen


At about 10 a.m. this morning I zipped home to pick up a postcard I needed in order to blog about the Blue Star Bunny Lady at First Friday. I found the postcard on the chair.  Then this thing came running out from the kitchen. 




Yes, that's my dog Marlowe, a Yorky mix. And yes, that's a bag of jerky treats on her head. When she heard me, she ran into a wall. Then she started spinning in circles. 

Ethical Question of the Day: If your dog is slowly suffocating, and your first reaction is to reach for your camera phone, is that animal cruelty?

I'll get to blogging about the Blue Star Bunny Lady later when the novelty of this wears off.


Posted by Dave Maass on 3/5/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

The Creature from the Kitchen


At about 10 a.m. this morning I zipped home to pick up a postcard I needed in order to blog about the Blue Star Bunny Lady at First Friday. I found the postcard on the chair.  Then this thing came running out from the kitchen. 




Yes, that's my dog Marlowe, a Yorky mix. And yes, that's a bag of jerky treats on her head. When she heard me, she ran into a wall. Then she started spinning in circles. 

Ethical Question of the Day: If your dog is slowly suffocating, and your first reaction is to reach for your camera phone, is that animal cruelty?

I'll get to blogging about the Blue Star Bunny Lady later when the novelty of this wears off.


Posted by Dave Maass on 3/5/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Art Capades: Was ist das?

Was ist das?
Sometimes it's hard to tell if a work of art is intentionally malfunctioning or if, left in the hands of a volunteer attendant, entropy has had its passive way with it. So it is with "Shanti," one of a handful of mysterious art assemblages on view at UTSA Satellite Spaces's current show, Art for America.

The exhibition, curated by sculptor and "Hometown Artists' Rodeo" impresario Ken Little, features three artists, one from Austria, two from Germany. Deutschlander Hans Koch is responsible for "Shanti" and two other whimsical low-tech contraptions, including "Drumstick," which brings together a drum, a vibrator, and a mirror to examine the tragicomic narcissism of self-abuse, maybe.

In "Shanti," a small flotilla of ducks - one with a paper sail, another covered with foil, sits listlessly at the side of the pool,
while four hairdryers suspended on tripods blow hot air to a background of intermittent sailor songs (like drunken sailors, the disc sings when it feels like it, your wishes be damned). Despite the combined windforce, the sculpture is eye-of-the-storm still except one dryer, which swings as if it's an unleashed mast in a gale. Here it is, for your pleasure and puzzlement:


But Heimo Wallner's graphic nude grotesques dominate the gallery and more than compensate for any Koch-induced bewildered disappointment. The walls are filled with Wallner's protagonist, a faux-primitive figure (think the witch doctor from Scooby-Doo, nude) who with a female counterpart distinguished only by the pertinent anatomy engages in every manner of penetration, contortion, and self-satisfaction you and a roomful of 16-year-old Catholic schoolboys can conjure. I can't decide which is my favorite: The cock and balls mounted on a plaque like a coat of arms, or a hilarious scene in which the one-eyed snake is both guitar and microphone. (The video, which is much more colorful, also contains a wider array of images & is not unlike an illustrated version of a Richie Budd sculpture.)


A detail from Heimo Wallner's wall drawings at UTSA Satellite Space.

But the expressionless, workmanlike manner with which these figures approach their XXX-rated gymnastics casts a dark shadow behind the surface humor: Hieronymous Bosch apes Fritz the Cat. The road to hell is paved with Boink and Bratz dolls.

Of course, I only studied it for the art. Wallner's clean, bold graphic style will remind some viewers of the fine line between art, illustration, and design exploited by Keith Haring (and emphasized here by two beautiful, limited-edition print books). One series of prints on handmade paper is divided into tile-like segments - but the moral tension makes it art that has been corralled into a design-friendly pattern rather than great design that just manages to transcend decoration.

The highlight of this sensory-overload show, though, are the two smaller rooms covered in original sharpie drawings. Seats are provided in the middle of each room so that you can contemplate the ascendance of new characters and technology in Wallner's uninhibited hieroglyphs. If you love it enough to live with it, small fiberboard panels, from the series Holy Cow, are available for $100 apiece. Tracing paper and pens are also provided so that you can trace your favorite wall drawing for $20-35 - a great way to get a, um, feel for the work. And that's this month's art bargain, kids.  

 

Posted by Elaine Wolff on 3/5/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Art Capades: Was ist das?

Was ist das?
Sometimes it's hard to tell if a work of art is intentionally malfunctioning or if, left in the hands of a volunteer attendant, entropy has had its passive way with it. So it is with "Shanti," one of a handful of mysterious art assemblages on view at UTSA Satellite Spaces's current show, Art for America.

The exhibition, curated by sculptor and "Hometown Artists' Rodeo" impresario Ken Little, features three artists, one from Austria, two from Germany. Deutschlander Hans Koch is responsible for "Shanti" and two other low-tech contraptions that are supposed to be whimsical (I think), including "Drumstick," which brings together a drum, a vibrator, and a mirror to examine the amusing narcissism of self-abuse, maybe.

In "Shanti," a small flotilla of ducks - one with a paper sail, another covered with foil, sits listlessly at the side of the pool,
while four hairdryers suspended on tripods blow hot air to a background of intermittent sailor songs (like drunken sailors, the disc sings when it feels like it, your wishes be damned). Despite the combined windforce, the sculpture is eye-of-the-storm still except one dryer, which swings as if it's an unleashed mast in a gale. Here it is, for your pleasure and puzzlement:

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But Heimo Wallner's graphic nude grotesques dominate the gallery and more than compensate for any Koch-induced bewildered disappointment. The walls are filled with Wallner's protagonist, a faux-primitive figure (think the witch doctor from Scooby-Doo, nude) who with a female counterpart distinguished only by the pertinent anatomy engages in every manner of penetration, contortion, and self-satisfaction you and a roomful of 16-year-old Catholic schoolboys can conjure. I can't decide which is my favorite: The cock and balls mounted on a plaque like a coat of arms, or a hilarious scene in which the one-eyed snake is both guitar and microphone.

But the expressionless, workmanlike manner with which these figures approach their XXX-rated gymnastics casts a dark shadow behind the surface humor: Hieronymous Bosch apes Fritz the Cat. The road to hell is paved with Boink and Bratz dolls.

Of course, I only studied it for the art. Wallner's clean, sharp graphic style will remind some viewers of the fine line between art, illustration, and design also exploited by Keith Haring (and emphasized here by two beautiful, limited-edition print books). One series of prints on handmade paper is divided into tile-like segments - but the moral tension makes it feel more like art that has been corralled into a design-friendly pattern than great design that just manages to transcend decoration.

The highlight of this sensory-overload show, though, are the two smaller rooms covered in original sharpie drawings. Seats are provided in the middle of each room so that you can contemplate the ascendance of new characters and technology. If you love it enough to live with it, small fiberboard panels, from the series Holy Cow, are available for $100 apiece. Tracing paper and pens are also provided so that you can trace your favorite wall drawing for $20-35 - a great way to get a, um, feel for the work. And that's this month's art bargain, kids.  

 

Posted by Elaine Wolff on 3/5/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street

On the Street

On Friday the Downtown Highlife Bicycle Club rode again. After everyone met at the Alamo a small cadre of DHBC members broke off and there was a discussion that the route had never gone north before, only south, east, or west. This was true. And not wanting to discriminate, or worse, reverse-discriminate against the culturally challenged Northside, a route was quickly established. As a compromise we agreed to not go north of Hildebrand, formerly known as North Avenue, fittingly.

The route culminated by the zoo where we got lost and ended up on an abandoned road that took us above the Sunken Gardens theater. This rather steep road goes right behind the animal pound. To hear the screams and howls of all the animals was a bit surreal given the darkness of the night and the close proximity of the zoo. The Northside never seemed so exotic. Our only brush with danger was a feral cat that had all the ferocity of Garfield.

A bit later the ride ended in Southtown at Holden’s 101 Bar for a party for the magazine NeoAztlan (Neoaztlan,com). The theme was an iParty, which I had never heard of before but meant that various DJs brought their ipods and played seven songs each. We ended up just a few minutes too late for that segment of the night. I interviewed visual artist Robert Gonzalez for a breakdown of the highlights: Kimberly Aubuchon of Unit B Gallery DJ’ed a  conceptual set that included musicians who passed away last year.  Gonzalez also made note of a set by artist Cruz Ortiz.

At breakfast the next morning at Tito’s Mexican Restaurant I overheard a funny conversation revolving around the naming of NeoAztlan. From what I could hear from their table, one guy was wondering if there every really was an Aztlan, and if not, how then could there be a new Aztlan? For this there was no rebuttal. Ultimately, this conversation had nothing to do with the magazine but it was amusing nonetheless.

That morning I was cajoled into going to the Southwest School of Art & Craft to hear a lecture by the legendary Japanese textile artist Akahiko Izukura. Textiles are not something I normally want to know more about, but being a servant to the city for this column, I went to learn with an open mind and a cup of coffee, if memory serves (I was still groggy from the night before.) Izukura has a philosophy that is so old-fashioned it is avant-garde. For all of his work in silk, he strives to have no materials left over. “Zero waste” was the expression he used. The crowd was predominantly 50-year-old women, so I fit in very well. At certain moments during the slideshow the women would let out a collective ooh and ahh in marveling at his work. I wasn’t able to discern the obvious quite yet, but by the end I was impressed. My goodwill lasted all the way until I got to my car to find a parking ticket. Funny how that always happens when I don’t ride my bike…

—  Mark Jones


On the Street (02/21/2007)

Friday night I swung by Beethoven’s in Southtown to begin the weekend. On a tip from friends I went to see the Psychics, a three-piece band comprising drums, electric bass, and tenor sax. Their MySpace page describes them as pop-jazz-punk-blues. That’s four categories right there and there’s only three of them in the band, but I would agree. They get a big, diverse sound out of their small group. I thought they were great. Everyone there had a good time, and the free chicken drumsticks at the buffet table were a nice lagniappe for those who stopped by.

Saturday I attended part of the Uprooted Film Series at Esperanza Peace and Justice Center. The purpose of the series was focused yet broad — “Palestinians and Other Occupied Peoples from Jerusalem to Baghdad.” The series showed three films each night on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I stopped by at 6 p.m. on Saturday to see the short film Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies A People by Sut Jhally. The film ended on a positive note, showing more recent films that depict Arabs more honestly. Next I saw They Call Me Muslim by Diana Ferrero, which offered a fascinating portrait of two Arab women and their polar views on feminism and freedom of expression, all told through their opinion of wearing a head scarf. In between films I talked to Nadine Saliba, an organizer of the event. For those who weren’t able to attend but would like to educate themselves about the Arab condition, more films will be shown in the future. Their website (Esperanzacenter.org) gives more information.

I would have stuck around for more but I had to meet people at Patsy’s Ice House at 2602 N. Flores, where, it just so happens, we were able to hear a few bands. The headliner was the enigmatic Jason Gerard, but I’ll get back to him in a second. First was RWI, the musical equivalent of Art Brut. They were a trio with a woman on synthesizer, a man on guitar, and someone who could have been their son on the congas. There provoked a lot of blank stares. Next was the prolific Jason Gerard (Myspace.com/jgerard). To quote his Myspace page, “Jason is truly one of the most innovate artist of our time and hopes to be one of the most influential in music history.”  Well, it’s good to be modest. As Gerard played a joke by breaking into tuning his guitar in the middle of a song, our group passed into the night in search of lost time and taco trucks.

— Mark Jones



Art and Hunger

On Monday I got out of class early, at 11 a.m. No offense to its affordable cafeteria, but dining options around St. Philips College are scarce. Sure, there is a chicken and waffles restaurant (that I plan to review) about to open half a mile to the west on Commerce, but other than that nothing seems exceptional or convenient. As a result I bring a banana. Most students get in their cars and venture several miles to find something to eat. That fact by itself is somewhat disappointing. One would think that some business would try to capitalize on an obvious market, but it hasn’t happened yet. Nor have any eating establishments or other businesses set up shop near the AT&T Center, but that’s a different Eastside topic …

My classmate Bill ventured off to the Pig Stand for lunch. I was happy to hear that it had reopend after its tax troubles this past winter. Mary Ann Hill, a woman who had previously worked at the Pig Stand bought it and reopened it. Working at the Pig Stand was the only job she had ever had, and now she’s taken over the reins to continue its legacy. There’s something about this I find comforting. Whenever I would ride my bike down Broadway by the Pig Stand I felt reassured the diner was still there. I’ll be honest: I’ve never eaten there and when it closed I immediately felt regret. But now that it’s open again, things in San Antonio seem a little more normal.

Friday night I snuck over to Blue Star for First Friday. I arrived late but was able to fight my way through the crowd to see a few galleries. At Three Walls Regis Shephard displayed drawings for his show Wild Style: The Fog of War, Mixtape Vol. 1. In my demented mind, the work reminded me in some ways of the children’s book Where the Wild Things Are, but also of that late ’80s Mettallica T-shirt with a disfigured head popping out of a toilet, or getting stabbed, or some combination. It was a good shirt.

Next door at Cactus Bra, Jasmyne Graybill presented her exhibition Host, with sporadic, fungi-like growths spread across the white walls. They looked like one large Petri dish, displayed for examination.

The last highlight of the weekend was going to the Potter-Belmar Laboratory to see a new live audio-video mix they were working on, an experiment for their move to full digital-laptop performance. The feedback was positive, and like myself there were several first-time initiates. You can find out more about their work at Potterbelmar.org, or read the Current interview, “Either you’re with us …” August 8, 2006.

— Mark Jones



The Shape of Jazz Still to Come

Saxophonist Arthur Doyle in action at Trinity University. Photo by Justin Parr.

On Thursday I headed over to Trinity University to see a performance by two improvisatory jazz veterans, saxophonist Arthur Doyle and percussionist Han Bennick. To quickly understand their credentials, know that Bennick played with the legendary Eric Dolphy and Doyle played with the extraterrestrial Sun Ra Group.

The pairing of these two musicians is a first on stage and it came together through the hard work and promotion of local artist Ben Judson, with his organization heavy Denim (Heavydenim.org) and 91.7 KTRU radio. Ben promoted well, for I saw several out-of-towners in attendance, including Austinites Chris Cogburn of Ten Pounds to the Sound and P.G. Moreno of Epistrophy Arts. Both of these groups host various improvised music/free jazz events around the state and seem to have formed some synergy with Judson’s heavy Denim. This bodes well for future shows coming to San Antonio.

The night began with a solo by Arthur Doyle. Doyle slowly walked out wearing black pants and T-shirt and a bright safety-orange baseball hat. He was as thin as a bamboo reed and didn’t seem to be in the best of health. Once he picked up his saxophone and began to play he channeled energy from an exterior force and came alive. His set became a series of alternating moments of playing the sax and a cappella scatting. I use the term scatting loosely because it wasn’t the typical jazz scatting that makes me laugh. This vocalization was closer to a schizophrenic rant. At first it seemed a fantastic put on but then it became a fascinating veil. At that point his saxophone playing and his mumbling storytelling melded together into a unified, mysterious gesture.

Next was a solo set by Han Bennick. Whereas Doyle came across as detached and saturnine, Bennick was ballistic and anarchic. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen someone play the drums with such a contrasting combination of precision and freedom. At times he would kick his feet up on the toms while he played. He was a total showman with the heart of a jokester. I understand that many people associate free jazz with something very serious and solemn, but Bennick was quite the opposite. At one point during his set he stopped everything and asked the audience if there were any questions. P.G. Moreno of Epistrophy Arts shouted out,  “What’s your favorite cheese?” Bennick shouted back, “Fuck that cheese.” He had the audience on the edge between laughter and amazement.

Doyle and Bennick finished the night with a duo. Doyle began onstage by himself, attacking his sax. Bennick began playing off-stage on unseen drums. Then he came forward unexpectedly by throwing his crash symbols onstage. Doyle seemed as surprised as the audience. Bennick then returned to his drumset and continued playing like a crazed character out of a Werner Herzog film. Klaus Kinski comes to mind. Local art blog Emvergeoning.com has a Youtube clip of this moment. The night basically ended when Doyle began walking inquisitively around the stage like a character out of Waiting for Godot. Bennick realized the duo had pretty much ended and wrapped it up. A standing ovation ensued. Confusion reigned.   

— Mark Jones



The Sunset Scavenger (01/24/2007)

When I finally left Los Angeles, I rode a bus from Silverlake to downtown along Sunset Boulevard, stopping at Amtrak’s historic Union Station. From there, I boarded the Sunset Limited and took a lengthy journey back to Texas that ended at San Antonio’s Sunset Station. That trip, I thought, would be the extent of my “sunset” train experience.

But then filmmaker Bill Daniel came to town in his van, the Sunset Scavenger, to show his much-traveled documentary, Who is Bozo Texino?, a film about hobo graffiti, train-hopping, and the elusive identity of legendary hobo Bozo Texino. (Back around 1997, Daniel used to come to town once a week to show films for his micro-cinema series Funhouse Cinema.)

Who is Bozo Texino? was a 16-year journey for Daniel. He rode the rails across much of the western half of the country with his Super 8 and Bolex cameras, gathering interviews and shooting hours upon hours of footage, all at great risk, but also with great excitement, which comes through in this final version of the documentary. The film was shot in grainy black-and-white, which lends a timeless quality to this fading culture. The music was scored by Texas punk legend Tim Kerr and SST producer Spot. Full of country blues and slide guitars, it evokes a sense of nostalgia. What struck me most were the wild sounds of the trains, which were fortuitously augmented by the real sounds of trains traveling by several feet outside Fl!ght gallery, where the movie screened last Thursday.

During the Q&A session that followed the screening, Daniel commented that hobos have always said their lifestyle used to be easier, and after 9/11 riding the rails became even more difficult. Given that, Who is Bozo Texino? most likely stands as the definitive statement on boxcar-graffiti culture. The film will soon be distributed on DVD. Daniel’s website, Billdaniel.net, gives the most up-to-date information.

After the film a group of people headed up South Flores to the old Judson Candy building to watch Potter-Belmar Labs project video images of graffiti onto the side of the building. It was a wonderful, spontaneous moment, and I only wish I had arrived earlier to see more of it.



Searching for SA's Roots in the River (01/17/2007)

Recently, I got a message that ice-cream king Justin Arecchi wanted to talk.

I went to his new location on Main Street in Monte Vista and found myself listening to something he deeply cared about: downtown and the current state of the River Walk. An hour later it was obvious this is something we all should care about.

Arecchi ran Justin’s Ice Cream Company and other establishments on the River Walk for more than 38 years to great acclaim (President Clinton called his mango ice cream “a national treasure.”) If anyone can speak confidently about the River Walk, Justin is the guy.

The obvious reason Justin wanted to talk about the River Walk is because of the way he was unceremoniously booted from his location when landlord Curtis Gunn decided not to renew his lease and instead did business with Houstonian Tilman Fertitta, CEO of Landry’s Restaurants, Inc. One could easily accuse Justin of sour grapes except that Justin is very much an advocate for the city’s cultural heritage and the River Walk in particular. He has served as president of the King William Neighborhood Association and, more pertinently,  as chairman of the City’s Historic Review Board.

Before 1992 the River Walk had an advocacy group, a city board called the River Walk Commission, which had some control over how the waterway could be developed.  The Historic Design Review Committee took over commission’s duties and the results speak for themselves. The River Walk’s shores are now graced with the Hard Rock Café, Planet Hollywood, Rainforest Café, and Landry’s Seafood (which also holds the contract for the restaurant and bar in the Tower of Americas).

The character of the river has changed and this should be every San Antonian’s concern. If locals don’t want to drive downtown to eat at a chain restaurant when they can do so more easily in a suburb, one has to ask at what point tourists will begin to wonder the same. That’s a frightening thought, economically.

Will Rogers called San Antonio one of America’s four unique cities. I wonder how unique the late Rogers would consider our Hard Rock Café, for example? Luckily, Arecchi has not given up on his commitment to independent, original food, and has turned his attention to historical Monte Vista, just north of downtown, at 2212 N. Main. Though he’s come full circle and is starting over again with Justin’s On Main, Arecchi is able to draw from his long experience on the river. He wants to make his Main Street café a neighborhood hub by diversifying — by still serving their world famous ice cream, but also serving panini sandwiches, beer and wine, and gourmet coffee, and by offering live music at nights, free wifi, and the occasional lecture tour and book reading. His enthusiasm is contagious and I’m excited to watch him make it all happen.

As our conversation shifted from politics to history, Arecchi confirmed an interesting footnote: Best-selling author Alex Haley did in fact come to live above the River Walk to write. In his most famous book, Roots, Haley retraces his personal history. Perhaps our current city leaders could try to find that old apartment above the river and live there for a few months. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find the inspiration to take the city back to its roots. And fast.



Foreclosures, Werewolves, and Magic Lanterns (01/10/2007)


Though last Tuesday was a day of remembrance for Gerald Ford (and yes it did seem like the remembrance was actually gaining momentum with each passing day), there was work to be done around town. Congressman Al told me there would be a house-foreclosure auction that morning on the courthouse steps. There’s nothing like betting on someone’s misery to add a spring to your gait. I thought it would be an interesting glimpse into how the real world works. Nonetheless, an auction at the courthouse seemed very antiquated to me. I hoped to see people riding in on horses. When we arrived, there were actually two different auctions happening concurrently. On the left side of the steps a police officer was auctioning houses that were delinquent in their city taxes. On the right side of the steps, banks were auctioning houses that were behind in their mortgage. About 60 people were crammed as tight as possible on the right, and at any point between three to six houses were being auctioned at once.

Someone with a clipboard would start speaking aloud, and an auction would begin.  Two competing companies sold books detailing the upcoming foreclosures. Because of that, numbers were being yelled that corresponded with the different guidebooks. As soon as one auction would get going, another one would pop up somewhere else. Legally, the auction had to take place on the actual courthouse steps. Sometimes, it seemed like the bank wanted to buy the house for themselves so they would slink off to a remote part of the opposite steps and start quietly reading their clipboard, hoping no one else would catch on to what they were doing. As one of those moments began again, we too slipped away, not sure what we learned that day.

First Friday was less crowded than normal, probably due to the Spurs game against Dallas. Given the smaller crowd, I was able to spot some semi-familiar faces. At one point I remember talking to the Fl!ght Gallery crew about a possible werewolf sighting the night before. I wasn’t the one who reported it, nor really believed it, but according to them there might be a werewolf (from the Greek lukanthropos, “wolf man”) at the Alamo Quarry Golf Club lake. From there the conversation downshifted to the legacy of Cheech and Chong comedy routines, did Whitley Strieber lie, and most importantly, how does one say the plural of Big Foot? Big Foots or Big Feet?  

Through visiting artist Luke Savisky, who had returned for one final performance at Three Walls Gallery, I was put on the guest list at the Magic Lantern Castle, a museum on Austin Highway that is the world’s authority on, that’s right, magic lanterns. Magic lanterns, I learned, were the dominant form of projecting images before the invention of motion-picture projectors. The museum, or castle, is so specific in its focus, at first I thought it was a put-on, in the same way Los Angeles’s Museum of Jurassic Technology is a wonderful jest. But the curator and owner Jack Judson is an enduring force of nature and his museum might be the most interesting one in town. [For a profile of Mr. Judson and his museum, see “The oldest picture show,” March 1-7, 2006.]

As I was sitting, waiting for Mr. Judson to begin his presentation, I realized this building used to be Shakey’s Pizza back in the early ’80s, and I was sitting in what was the old game room where Shakey used to show Buck Rogers serials. Those films had an H.G. Wells retro-futuristic vibe that seemed similar to the aesthetics and exotica of the magic lanterns . And so I felt old but young, back at Shakey’s pizza, back in town again after a long journey, moving forward, yet now intrigued by a past I didn’t know existed, and my own past I thought I had forgotten. Later, as Mr. Judson busted out his theremin, I went outside and got on my bike and made the slow way home. I felt like I was moving forward, I think.



San Antonio Legends (Once and Future)


Casa Navarro is an interesting, overlooked historical site in downtown San Antonio. The only reason I know about it is because I went there with the Old Man to buy a State Park pass for a Christmas gift. Evidently, you can do that there.  After ringing a bell on a gate a caretaker let us in the compound and gave us a quick tour of the lime-stuccoed adobe buildings and some history on Tejano patriot José Antonio Navarro. The whole setup is slightly surreal, for though Navarro’s house was part of the original Spanish settlement downtown, it is now hidden in the jail parking lot across the street from the police station on Nueva Street.  

Among many things, I learned that the famous Navarro family later was in cahoots with the Tobin family, and as we all know that lineage is responsible for a good portion of San Antonio’s heritage. I wanted to joke with the wonderful caretaker/guide José Zapata about a possible Masonic conspiracy strangling the city but I was more intrigued with the buildings.  Zapata maintains the buildings in their original adobe form, even making adobe bricks on site and lime-washing the adobe walls once a year. This is a dying tradition in the U.S., and the only other person I know who is still doing it is Simone Swan, a fascinating woman who retired from the international art world, left her position at the Menil Foundation in Houston, and went to study anti-Modernist architecture in Egypt under the much celebrated (though now forgotten) Hassan Fathy. Swan has been out in West Texas for several years with her Adobe Alliance trying to introduce Egyptian styled architecture as a form of very low-income housing.

A few days later I felt like I was driving towards B.F. Egypt, but really I was just on my way out to Ingram Park Mall for a Q&A with Spurs legend “Big Shot” Robert Horry. I convinced “Congressman” Al to go along specifically because in 1989 he missed the opportunity to meet the Spurs’ chain-smoking, bench-warmer Zarko Paspalj at the Pizza Hut on Austin Highway. It’s been a running joke ever since then, and I told Al how much better his life might have been had he shared a deep-dished pie and a pack of smokes with Zarko that fateful day. For me, the highlight of the talk with Horry was when the Coyote came out and threw a free gift interestingly close to a kiosk where a woman was face down getting massaged, blissfully unaware of the mad scramble advancing dangerously towards her.

On Saturday night I ended up at the Limelight to see Capitol Records’ Sound Team, a former Alamo Heights band now making music and getting chicks up in Austin. Grammy- and Oscar-winner Christopher Cross was also from Alamo Heights. Along with Kenny Loggins, Toto, Jimmy Buffet, and Michael McDonald, Christopher Cross wrote number-one songs and was a pioneer of the wretched “Yacht Rock” movement of the mid-’70s to early-’80s. The San Antonio interconnection continues because when yacht-rocker Michael McDonald was in his more famous band, The Doobie Brothers, he sang their signature song “China Grove,” a mysterious ode to the SA suburb of the same name. I realize this has absolutely nothing to do with Sound Team. Before I jinx them by ridiculously placing the dying legacy of yacht rock on their shoulders, I think it’s best I stop right here.   However, if the major label starts giving them headaches and they need advice, I hear they might be able to find Christopher Cross out on his boat on one of Austin’s many lakes perhaps humming the lyrics to his number one song “Sailing.”



On The Street (12/10/2006)


Around noon on Tuesday I was in a car driving west on 410 for seemingly ever to that nether region of the city that falls between Ingram Park Mall to the north and the 410/90 junction to the south. I grew up in San Antonio and felt I had been pretty much everywhere across the city, and more recently most of it by bike, but this was one pocket, I realized, I had never been. The further we drove the more uneasy I became. There’s something about driving in a circle all the way around a city on a freeway that seems unnatural.

The sky was overcast which gave a drab uniform light to the drab uniform surroundings. A few minutes after we drove past the car lot on the left with the big Indian holding out his hand, I noticed an empty parking lot for an abandoned Walmart. These were the Badlands of San Antonio. Yes, if Walmart can’t make it here then there has to be something wrong (or wonderfully right, but that didn’t seem to be the case.) So why drive through all this, other than to complain about it? The goal: to find the elusive Holy Grail of all of restaurants, the best Thai food in town.

John was driving and his girlfriend Sara was in the backseat applying pressure to her bleeding finger. In my mind this reminded me of the scene out of Reservoir Dogs where Tim Roth screams from the back seat, holding his bleeding stomach, wondering where the hell he is going. But to be honest, Sara’s bleeding finger had little in common with Mr. Orange’s situation but it wasn’t from a lack of effort on her part. What the moment did have was some understated but surreal drama to make things interesting – Sara trying to get John to pay attention to her, John talking on his cell phone about money management while casually downplaying her injury, me stuck in the middle wondering why we didn’t just go to Tong’s Thai on Austin Highway where the people are friendly and everything is rainbows and unicorns.

We exited Marbach and took a wrong turn to the inside of the loop and discovered another empty parking lot for another abandoned store, this one with a Christian dinner theater having moved in to fill the crushing void. We made our way back across the loop and found our destination – yes, finally, Asia Kitchen.

One would think after driving for so long we would all jump out of the car, but no. There was a slight delay in going in to the restaurant. The bleeding finger drama had escalated and neither of them were going to budge from their position. Sara literally wouldn’t budge as she decided to stay in the car rather than go in. I went inside because it was getting too cold to sit out in the car. I tried to be of some assistance so I asked the waitress if she had a first aid kit for my friend in the car. As she sat John and I at our table, she told us that their first aid kit wouldn’t be of much help because it was for more major injuries, like if the dishwasher accidentally cut off his hand while slicing lemongrass. The customer next to us got a real kick out of that thought as he looked down at his food. Then I looked down at his food. And then I looked all around the restaurant. Everyone seemed to be about 500 pounds and eating lemon chicken with fried rice. How did I end up here? The idea that this place could serve even half-way decent Pad Thai seemed like a stretch at this point.

Sara eventually came in from the cold with a band-aid on her finger. Evidently, the waitress did have a normal band-aid hidden beneath the torniquet in the first aid kit. Sara sat down and she and John acted like whatever happened was no big deal, it happens all the time, in fact it will probably happen again in five minutes so why dwell on it?

I ordered a green curry with eggplant. I noticed that they served brown rice, but I’ve been to places that try to tell you that fried rice is brown rice so I wasn’t holding my breath just quite yet.

Well, the food showed up in good time. I took a bite. I couldn’t believe it. This really was the best Thai food in all of San Antonio. Sometimes something just clicks and no words are needed to describe it. You just know. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.



The Black Bean Death Lottery (12/06/2006)

Historically, Texans have been known to be larger than life. And Texas history, similarly, has been just as super-sized. I believe that’s fairly accepted. Of course one can say that’s it’s all just a myth. But a myth doesn’t necessarily mean a falsehood; it just means that it is a shared belief, even if the myth is not exactly true. If anything, paradoxically, a falsehood only makes the myth larger and adds to its strength. It creates its own asymmetrical reality. So where the hell am I going with this?

Follow me, literally. I was riding north on Austin Highway for some exercise. Texas history wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind. Austin Highway seemed like a different route to take so I headed out on a whim. But since we’re talking about history, Austin Highway these days seems anything but historic. Sure, its good to see Bun ’n’ Barrel BBQ still going fairly strong. But the American Graffiti drag-racing days are mainly a thing of the past. My memories of Austin Highway are from the 1980s when I would see prostitutes walking around by the small motels right next to Terrell Hills! That always amused me — that the two could somehow exist right next to each other.

I passed the cemetery on the left and came across a Texas historical marker by chance. And this is what set my mind in motion. The marker was for something called the “Dawson Massacre.” I read it, and then back home read more about it online. To summarize: On September 11, 1842 (that’s right, 9-11!), San Antonio was invaded by a French mercenary leading an army of Mexican soldiers. They kidnapped almost all of the local judges and basically sacked the city. A group of Texans responded. Over by the Rittiman flea market the Battle of Salado Creek occurred. At the same time, some other Texans came into town to join the fight and were massacred, i.e., the Dawson Massacre.

Without getting into all the details of what happened next (including something called the “Black Bean Death Lottery” — I swear to you, I’m not making this up, and no, it’s not the name of a Heavy Metal band) I want to ponder the context of all this. San Antonio was captured by Mexico six years after Texas defeated Mexico at the battle of San Jacinto! One would think this would be something significant, right? I don’t remember that in Junior High.

And that’s what perplexes me — Texas, with it’s wonderful love of itself and all its stories, has pretty much abandoned this piece of its past. Sure, you could say it was a massacre, but the Alamo was a massacre too and that doesn’t stop thousands of tourists coming here every year to check it out. So why is that? All I can guess is that the Alamo falls into a better narrative arc; it’s the end of the second act. All seems lost. Third act: the come-from-behind victory at San Jacinto. All is well. End of story. Next 10 years, Texas was a nation! Cool, right!? I suppose no one wants to dwell on the less than glamorous aspects of those 10 years of nationhood as Mexico undermined Texas’s legitimacy. And, Santa Anna kept sticking around, like the Saddam Hussein of his era. It just doesn’t fit into a good story. There’s no myth there. It’s just the randomness of life.

So, I’m not going to expect any tourists will want to come to town to explore this seedy part of the past.  They should; there are some pretty bizarre stories; but they won’t. Just in case they do, though, and they need a place to stay, I know there are some motels on Austin Highway that would be happy to take their money, even if it is by the hour.



Before the Battle (11/14/2006)

Recently an old friend named Brett came through town on his way to Houston where he was to give a talk at one of the museums on something concerning contemporary art. I’ve forgotten the exact nature of his speech but I did later remember something entirely beside the point about Brett, which is that he had an early brush with infamy as a child actor in the movie The World According to Garp. Brett was the kid at the infirmary who gets his weener caught in his zipper. A very memorable scene. That was Brett, or at least that’s the story…

Through Brett, I met his friend Matthew Drutt, the new director of Artpace. That night I listened as they discussed the international art scene. In the process, I learned a little bit about a lot of things, including the work of one of the current Artpace residents, Allison Smith. In New York, Allison orchestrated an open-source art event at the forgotten Governor’s Island, wherein she combined Arts & Crafts with Civil War historical recreation. My mechanic is a historical recreation actor, and I was curious how a contemporary artist would approach historical recreation. I asked Matthew if he could arrange an informal interview, and a few days later on a brilliantly blue Friday afternoon, I was riding my bike down to Artpace to do just that.

At that moment my bike was recently out of the shop, and through the vagaries of vintage bicycle repair, I now had a different gear for my single-speed cruiser. A new gear is not something I sought out, but that was the new reality and going uphill was now a bit more of a challenge.

I rode south on McCullough and made use of the bike lane. It’s not a route I would normally take, in part because my bike friends would laugh at me, and also because it can be unsafe at night with the lack of lights, but during the day it was a good choice. The steady downhill gave me a great opportunity to test the new gear. At Euclid I turned east towards Flores, and at Flores I headed south so I could approach Artpace from the rear and avoid the schizophrenic intersection at Main and San Pedro by the downtown library.

While on Flores, just south of M.K. Davis, I came across some construction for a new vegetarian restaurant, which looked intriguing, though still at least another month away.

At Artpace, Allison greeted me and showed me around her Texas-size studio. Allison comes from a deep Crafts tradition; at the same time she is inspired by Craft movements of the past that are atypical and convey personal expression, especially of politics and resistance. This nexus most likely will be the heart of her upcoming show, a show that I could tell that Allison has been working extremely hard to prepare for. There were handmade weapons on tables, tapestries on walls, silk-screened dresses, and most ominously, a large wood carved rocking horse that she said she will be riding into the gallery to begin the show. I would be foolish to try to explain too much. Allison’s work will speak for itself on Thursday night, November 16, at Artpace. A dialogue will begin at 6:30 p.m. and the reception will open from 7:30-8:30pm. I’ll see you there.



Rough Ride, in Film and Real Life (10/25/2006)


Some weeks, not everything comes together. By that I mean an effort is made, an expectation is raised, a result, however, is not always met. Coincidentally, my bike is still in need of repair and the clouds have been rather cloudy as of late so these two concepts seem to be working in parallel and dovetail nicely, sadly.

But to rewind. Early in the week I perused the website for the San Antonio Film Commission and saw that a film crew from LA is in town shooting a boxing movie. Sounded interesting enough. The filmmaker, Jimmy Nickerson, is a first-time director, which either means it’s actually his first time to make a movie, or his real first film didn’t make a big enough splash so there’s no point in referring to it. There’s no shame in this: P.T Anderson’s first film wasn’t Boogie Nights, nor was Linklater’s first film actually Slacker but the impression that it was remains.

I read that Nickerson was a career stuntman in Hollywood for more than three decades, and Imdb.com listed more than 30 huge action movies that featured his stunt services, including the first Rocky film. I emailed the production office to schedule an interview, hopefully during lunch break because lunch generally has a pleasant vibe on a film set — that is, of course, if the catering is good.

After a few days I received an email to come by the set. A producer/writer seemed to be hinting that I might interview him instead but the director was the more interesting story. I called them and left a message to finalize the meeting, get directions, and that sort of thing. I never heard back. Welcome to LA.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it because that day I was thrown not a curve ball but more like a change of speed. A friend had just come back to town and the next day was his birthday. His ex-girlfriend was planning a surprise party for him that night. The weird thing was that he was already told that a group of us were going to take him to dinner that night, so the real surprise would be that we actually wouldn’t be going out to eat but instead stay in and be entertained by a belly dancer. This sounds euphemistic but I believe it was legit.

My role was to distract him during the day for six hours and then deliver him at home at exactly 7:15. Six hours! Not to mention how to time such a precise landing. My mind wandered over possibilities. Lunch. A movie. Feigning car trouble. My planning never got further than that. I was going to have to wing it.

I called him on the day in question at 1 p.m. and was a little surprised when his ex-girlfriend answered his cell phone. I was completely shocked when I found out my friend was in the hospital under heavy narcotics having just suffered an attack of gall stones and pancreatitis. On his birthday. He was waiting for his pancreas to improve so the surgeons could remove his gall bladder.

I spent the part of the next few days hanging out with him at the hospital. On the last day, I went by the Starbucks at the hospital to get a café Americano. That was going to be my small satisfaction, possibly for the week. When the rookie behind the counter began to mangle my drink I tried to keep my composure.

For this small moment, my expectation would be met.



On the Street (10/18/2006)


Normally, to bike downtown I take a rather complicated route — south on Devine through Olmos Park, left at Alamo Stadium, bomb the hill towards the Zoo, ride across a faux-bois bridge into Brackenridge park, go south on a bumpy bike lane behind the Lions Club, continue on to Avenue B, take a left at Grayson, take a right on Alamo street, and from there it’s smooth sailing until Alamo dead-ends. When I asked my friend Brian how he rides downtown, he responded, “I just take Broadway.” That kind of took the piss out of my Byzantine process. I didn’t think it should be that easy. So, I tried.

It was. The best part of this route is the end, the 100 block of Broadway: The gateway into downtown. Except that it really isn’t. The 100 block is like a small version of Time Square circa 1970. This is the block with the huge antique store, Paris Hatters, the Texas T pub, a loan office, and some empty storefronts. With the exception of Twin Sisters cafe, new blood doesn’t seem to last long here.

I hadn’t been on the curb for more than 30 seconds taking notes when a guy in a cowboy hat emerged from Paris Hatters and asked if I was with “those other guys.” Evidently a lot of people on bikes have been coming to this block and taking notes.

I walked across the street to see the jewel of the block, the historic Atlee Ayres building at 118 Broadway. I expected to find a few private investigators in the lobby directory. Instead I saw Build San Antonio Green, Suite 223. It had to be a CIA front. I took the elevator up to see more.

Build San Antonio Green is a nonprofit organization that accredits “green” building. They have a large showroom to showcase materials such as Compressed Earth Blocks and cork flooring. The website, Buildsagreen.org, is a great resource for someone looking to remodel a fixer-upper.

As I learned about the water-saving properties of an Australian two-speed flush toilet, I glanced out the window. I hoped to see a parade of bicyclists looking around taking notes, or better, the guy with the cowboy hat from the David Lynch movie staring at me ominously. Instead, I just saw an old neighborhood and wondered what would survive — Build San Antonio Green or the old ’hood. Hopefully, both.



Marching Alone (10/08/2006)


On Wednesday I read an article that Jeff Spicoli (aka Sean Penn) would be involved with an “end the Iraq War” protest on Thursday in NYC. I later learned that the protest, organized by the group World Can’t Wait, was going to be held all across the country. San Antonio would be one of the locations, with or without Hollywood actors, 5 p.m. Thursday at HemisFair. I had to see how Say-Town would represent itself.

Driving a car to an anti-Iraq-War protest seemed grossly inappropriate, like showing up drunk to a MADD demonstration, so after studying for my anatomy test, I grabbed my bike and headed downtown. Clearly, a bike was the only way to get there; unfortunately, my bike was having problems. I did what I could to quickly fix it so I could still go, but it still made a horrible sound, like a cross between my Canon 814 Super8 camera, and an MRI machine.

I arrived at HemisFair at 5:15 p.m. in time to hear the chant: “If the people are united we’ll never be … DEFEATED.” I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stifle a small laugh. After a few back and forths, someone got on the bullhorn and the word DIVIDED was substituted and the rhyme was complete.

There were about 60 people. A few women from Code Pink. I did a quick crowd survey. First, anyone I recognize? No, but that’s expected; I just moved back to town. Most of the people held signs while standing on the curb looking out at traffic on Alamo Street. A few buses would drove by and honked in support. Occasionally a guy would drive by and make the two-finger peace sign. Then an obnoxious lady drove by and made the less-friendly middle-finger sign.

I hung in the back and tried to get a feel for the whole event. There were a good number of people with cameras and pens and paper. Reporters, I assumed. I suppose I should have been doing the same but I was too busy convincing myself that I was a columnist and not a reporter. But by hanging out in the back I’m afraid I came across less like a stoic hipster and more like an undercover cop.

So why didn’t more people show up? It can’t be that the majority of society still supports the Iraq War. Opinion polls strongly suggest otherwise. I can only guess that people are so predisposed against any form of street protest that they stay away out of fear of … something.

It is odd that a majority of society is against the war but also against any form of active protest. This is a bizarre parallel trend. In the 1960s there was a thing called THE DRAFT that really galvanized people into protesting that war. Noam Chomsky took a lot of heat for being in support of the draft, but he’s right fundamentally in that if this is our country’s war then the country should fight it collectively. I’m not saying I’d want to go, but I think he’s right. And if people don’t want to go, then that fact will be felt soon enough. And it was. The current administration is well aware of this point, not the least of which because they all avoided the draft, but also because they know that there will never be any popular support for a draft, and therefore, a war. So what does that really say about our country?

As I rode my bike home, that thought kept bouncing around in my head. And though my bike was almost on its deathbed, it was still easier to fix than the problems in Iraq.



On the Street (10/04/2006)


About 8:15 on Friday night I headed downtown on my bike to the Alamo. The Downtown Highlife Bicycle Club was having its monthly ride. For those unfamiliar with the event, it begins at 9 p.m. on the last Friday of the month at the Alamo.

When I arrived I found a small, diverse group of white people on bikes — a few students, some bike collectors, a landscaper, a teacher, and a bike mechanic, ranging in age from 20 to 62. We were a lucky baker’s dozen and after some catching up and introductions be-tween new acquaintances, we headed off.

Our destination was Woodlawn Lake but our route took us first north toward San Antonio College. We snuck through the SAC parking lot and then cruised west through San Pedro Park. I hadn’t been to the park for a long time so it was good to see the successful restoration.

After briefly riding north on Flores, we doglegged around Ashby to Blanco and took a short break at the corner of Ashby and Blanco — the previous location of Mr. Taco, back when they had pay televisions at every booth.

After raising the eyebrows of a few kids waiting for the bus, we began a straight shot west on Cincinnati. Cincinnati begins inauspiciously at Blanco and it has the faded glamour of a forgotten boulevard most likely done in by the construction of I-10.

A few blocks later we rode triumphantly underneath the Josephine Tobin arch welcoming us to Woodlawn Lake. At night the lake really is a sight to behold. Curving around the west end of the lake I spotted a building that used to be the Peacock Military Academy. At the turn of the century, the previous century, this was the historic West End, and I remember reading about the famous filmmaker King Vidor, who went to school at Peacock. As a side note, Vidor has the longest career of any filmmaker, having shot his first one-reeler in 1913 about the great Galveston flood. He made his last film in 1980 right before his death. That’s longevity.

We biked back east on Woodlawn and then south on Flores into downtown. As we neared Travis Street a discussion began about what bar to hit. Travis 151 doesn’t have good bike parking — funny but true. The Esquire, someone informed me, just closed for remodeling. Everyone but me had heard this story and when I asked why the facelift, the chorus was something about remodeling to be more family-friendly. Jeez. The Esquire was probably the last place in town where you could still be approached by a guy with a trench coat full of watches for sale. And I mean that in a good way.

We settled on La Tuna and headed south on St. Mary’s, riding next to a group of classic cars wandering downtown, looking for a ZZ Top music video to hang out in it seemed. They would rev their engines and burn rubber and then drive for a block and stop at a red light. The fact that we pretty much stayed with them all the way until Southtown must have created an existential crisis for them. South of Durango they floored it and took off for good — and us, we kept on riding.


On the Street (9/24/06)


Looking for an honest mechanic can be like spelunking — a dark and lonely business. Luckily for me I was given a good recommendation and I took my injured Honda Accord station wagon over to Mac Auto on 3810 Eisenhower, which is just down the road from an old flea market that used to sell fake IDs, bad sunglasses, shurikens, and other ninja paraphernalia back in the ’80s.

As I approached the office to talk to owner Ralph Murillo, I saw a tall guy wearing a really large cowboy hat go in before me. I sat in the office and waited my turn while Ralph talked shop with the cowboy.

As I listened in on their conversation it became apparent they weren’t discussing the pros and cons of flushing a radiator. The cowboy was discussing some sort of gig he just had at a ranch where he was paid to, from what I gathered, impersonate John Wayne. I had to second-guess myself for a moment to make sure I was hearing this right because they were so casual about something that seemed hard to understand. Ralph knew all too well the people being discussed. There was some mutual sighing and rolling of the eyes as certain names were mentioned as well as a discussion of the difference between being inspired by a performer and outright stealing material.

At this point I began to look around the office. Like many auto shops there were spare parts fastened to pegboard walls and other accoutrements of the shop, but what caught my eye were a variety of posters for some group called The South Texas Gunfighters. The posters featured old black-and-white photos of banditos in front of a saloon.

Back to John Wayne. As I listened to the Duke and Ralph swap stories, it became apparent they were two actors discussing the inner workings of a trade. Though I just walked in to get a thermostat replaced, I was really getting a glimpse into a sub-culture unknown to me — historical-recreation entertainment.
After John Wayne left I talked to Ralph to learn more. Ralph, or “Sancho Garcia” as he’s known outside the shop, is the leader of the banditos I saw on the poster. Ralph and his group get hired out for a variety of events — the Poteet Strawberry festival, the Peanut festival in Floresville, parties at dude ranches, as well as benefits for the Muscular Dystrophy Association.

The performances are almost always different. Most recently, he and the boys hitchhiked onto tourist buses on the way to dude ranches and gave conventioneers from Iowa (or whereever) a taste of the Old West in the form of a surprise highway-robbery performance. All in good fun, of course, though I can imagine some tourists not catching on at first, and reaching for their wallet to buy off these windblown marauders, thereby making the joke all the more funny.

As we talked, the other mechanic Jeff (or “Dusty” as his alter ego is known) entered and told me that my car was ready. As I drove home I thought back to all the bad run-ins I’ve had with mechanics and I would say Ralph is probably the most honest mechanic I know. Whereas as some mechanics rob their customers for real, Ralph reserves his hijackings for the weekends when he’s “Sancho Garcia.”

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/2/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Sticky, but it ain't soda


Not everything I post up here on Chisme Libre will be about Texas's death row. Promise. This doesn't count, though, because you can file this along with all your other Smoking Gun goodies under Public Information Treasure. This memo comes from Major Melodye Nelson, the TDCJ official who watches over death row, to Warden Loyd Massey. Nelson details the scheme of a certain visitor's attempt to smuggle ... errr .... contraband to Gaylon Walbey, an inmate sentenced to death for murdering his foster mother.

Nelson says the visitor (name redacted) had a guard shoot a photo of her with Walbey. I presume the camera was a Polaroid since, according to the report, the visitor then took the photo with her into the restroom. When she came out, the visitor asked the guard to pass it on to Walbey.

Thing is,  the guard noticed the photo was wrinkled and coated in a sticky substance. Major Nelson turned up to investigate. The visitor claimed the substance was soda, but Nelson got her to admit it was something else.

Click the document to find out what. Warning: It's durrrrty.





Posted by :Dave Maass on 3/2/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

Sticky, but it ain't soda


Not everything I post up here on Chisme Libre will be about Texas's death row. Promise. This doesn't count, though, because you can file this along with all your other Smoking Gun goodies under Public Information Treasure. This memo comes from Major Melodye Nelson, the TDCJ official who watches over death row, to Warden Loyd Massey. Nelson details the scheme of a certain visitor's attempt to smuggle ... errr .... contraband to Gaylon Walbey, an inmate sentenced to death for murdering his foster mother.

Nelson says the visitor (name redacted) had a guard shoot a photo of her with Walbey. I presume the camera was a Polaroid since, according to the report, the visitor then took the photo with her into the restroom. When she came out, the visitor asked the guard to pass it on to Walbey.

Thing is,  the guard noticed the photo was wrinkled and coated in a sticky substance. Major Nelson turned up to investigate. The visitor claimed the substance was soda, but Nelson got her to admit it was something else.

Click the document to find out what. Warning: It's durrrrty.





Posted by :Dave Maass on 3/2/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

On the Street

On the Street

On Friday the Downtown Highlife Bicycle Club rode again. After everyone met at the Alamo a small cadre of DHBC members broke off and there was a discussion that the route had never gone north before, only south, east, or west. This was true. And not wanting to discriminate, or worse, reverse-discriminate against the culturally challenged Northside, a route was quickly established. As a compromise we agreed to not go north of Hildebrand, formerly known as North Avenue, fittingly.

The route culminated by the zoo where we got lost and ended up on an abandoned road that took us above the Sunken Gardens theater. This rather steep road goes right behind the animal pound. To hear the screams and howls of all the animals was a bit surreal given the darkness of the night and the close proximity of the zoo. The Northside never seemed so exotic. Our only brush with danger was a feral cat that had all the ferocity of Garfield.

A bit later the ride ended in Southtown at Holden’s 101 Bar for a party for the magazine NeoAztlan (Neoaztlan,com). The theme was an iParty, which I had never heard of before but meant that various DJs brought their ipods and played seven songs each. We ended up just a few minutes too late for that segment of the night. I interviewed visual artist Robert Gonzalez for a breakdown of the highlights: Kimberly Aubuchon of Unit B Gallery DJ’ed a  conceptual set that included musicians who passed away last year.  Gonzalez also made note of a set by artist Cruz Ortiz.

At breakfast the next morning at Tito’s Mexican Restaurant I overheard a funny conversation revolving around the naming of NeoAztlan. From what I could hear from their table, one guy was wondering if there every really was an Aztlan, and if not, how then could there be a new Aztlan? For this there was no rebuttal. Ultimately, this conversation had nothing to do with the magazine but it was amusing nonetheless.

That morning I was cajoled into going to the Southwest School of Art & Craft to hear a lecture by the legendary Japanese textile artist Akahiko Izukura. Textiles are not something I normally want to know more about, but being a servant to the city for this column, I went to learn with an open mind and a cup of coffee, if memory serves (I was still groggy from the night before.) Izukura has a philosophy that is so old-fashioned it is avant-garde. For all of his work in silk, he strives to have no materials left over. “Zero waste” was the expression he used. The crowd was predominantly 50-year-old women, so I fit in very well. At certain moments during the slideshow the women would let out a collective ooh and ahh in marveling at his work. I wasn’t able to discern the obvious quite yet, but by the end I was impressed. My goodwill lasted all the way until I got to my car to find a parking ticket. Funny how that always happens when I don’t ride my bike…

—  Mark Jones


On the Street (02/21/2007)

Friday night I swung by Beethoven’s in Southtown to begin the weekend. On a tip from friends I went to see the Psychics, a three-piece band comprising drums, electric bass, and tenor sax. Their MySpace page describes them as pop-jazz-punk-blues. That’s four categories right there and there’s only three of them in the band, but I would agree. They get a big, diverse sound out of their small group. I thought they were great. Everyone there had a good time, and the free chicken drumsticks at the buffet table were a nice lagniappe for those who stopped by.

Saturday I attended part of the Uprooted Film Series at Esperanza Peace and Justice Center. The purpose of the series was focused yet broad — “Palestinians and Other Occupied Peoples from Jerusalem to Baghdad.” The series showed three films each night on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I stopped by at 6 p.m. on Saturday to see the short film Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies A People by Sut Jhally. The film ended on a positive note, showing more recent films that depict Arabs more honestly. Next I saw They Call Me Muslim by Diana Ferrero, which offered a fascinating portrait of two Arab women and their polar views on feminism and freedom of expression, all told through their opinion of wearing a head scarf. In between films I talked to Nadine Saliba, an organizer of the event. For those who weren’t able to attend but would like to educate themselves about the Arab condition, more films will be shown in the future. Their website (Esperanzacenter.org) gives more information.

I would have stuck around for more but I had to meet people at Patsy’s Ice House at 2602 N. Flores, where, it just so happens, we were able to hear a few bands. The headliner was the enigmatic Jason Gerard, but I’ll get back to him in a second. First was RWI, the musical equivalent of Art Brut. They were a trio with a woman on synthesizer, a man on guitar, and someone who could have been their son on the congas. There provoked a lot of blank stares. Next was the prolific Jason Gerard (Myspace.com/jgerard). To quote his Myspace page, “Jason is truly one of the most innovate artist of our time and hopes to be one of the most influential in music history.”  Well, it’s good to be modest. As Gerard played a joke by breaking into tuning his guitar in the middle of a song, our group passed into the night in search of lost time and taco trucks.

— Mark Jones



Art and Hunger

On Monday I got out of class early, at 11 a.m. No offense to its affordable cafeteria, but dining options around St. Philips College are scarce. Sure, there is a chicken and waffles restaurant (that I plan to review) about to open half a mile to the west on Commerce, but other than that nothing seems exceptional or convenient. As a result I bring a banana. Most students get in their cars and venture several miles to find something to eat. That fact by itself is somewhat disappointing. One would think that some business would try to capitalize on an obvious market, but it hasn’t happened yet. Nor have any eating establishments or other businesses set up shop near the AT&T Center, but that’s a different Eastside topic …

My classmate Bill ventured off to the Pig Stand for lunch. I was happy to hear that it had reopend after its tax troubles this past winter. Mary Ann Hill, a woman who had previously worked at the Pig Stand bought it and reopened it. Working at the Pig Stand was the only job she had ever had, and now she’s taken over the reins to continue its legacy. There’s something about this I find comforting. Whenever I would ride my bike down Broadway by the Pig Stand I felt reassured the diner was still there. I’ll be honest: I’ve never eaten there and when it closed I immediately felt regret. But now that it’s open again, things in San Antonio seem a little more normal.

Friday night I snuck over to Blue Star for First Friday. I arrived late but was able to fight my way through the crowd to see a few galleries. At Three Walls Regis Shephard displayed drawings for his show Wild Style: The Fog of War, Mixtape Vol. 1. In my demented mind, the work reminded me in some ways of the children’s book Where the Wild Things Are, but also of that late ’80s Mettallica T-shirt with a disfigured head popping out of a toilet, or getting stabbed, or some combination. It was a good shirt.

Next door at Cactus Bra, Jasmyne Graybill presented her exhibition Host, with sporadic, fungi-like growths spread across the white walls. They looked like one large Petri dish, displayed for examination.

The last highlight of the weekend was going to the Potter-Belmar Laboratory to see a new live audio-video mix they were working on, an experiment for their move to full digital-laptop performance. The feedback was positive, and like myself there were several first-time initiates. You can find out more about their work at Potterbelmar.org, or read the Current interview, “Either you’re with us …” August 8, 2006.

— Mark Jones



The Shape of Jazz Still to Come

Saxophonist Arthur Doyle in action at Trinity University. Photo by Justin Parr.

On Thursday I headed over to Trinity University to see a performance by two improvisatory jazz veterans, saxophonist Arthur Doyle and percussionist Han Bennick. To quickly understand their credentials, know that Bennick played with the legendary Eric Dolphy and Doyle played with the extraterrestrial Sun Ra Group.

The pairing of these two musicians is a first on stage and it came together through the hard work and promotion of local artist Ben Judson, with his organization heavy Denim (Heavydenim.org) and 91.7 KTRU radio. Ben promoted well, for I saw several out-of-towners in attendance, including Austinites Chris Cogburn of Ten Pounds to the Sound and P.G. Moreno of Epistrophy Arts. Both of these groups host various improvised music/free jazz events around the state and seem to have formed some synergy with Judson’s heavy Denim. This bodes well for future shows coming to San Antonio.

The night began with a solo by Arthur Doyle. Doyle slowly walked out wearing black pants and T-shirt and a bright safety-orange baseball hat. He was as thin as a bamboo reed and didn’t seem to be in the best of health. Once he picked up his saxophone and began to play he channeled energy from an exterior force and came alive. His set became a series of alternating moments of playing the sax and a cappella scatting. I use the term scatting loosely because it wasn’t the typical jazz scatting that makes me laugh. This vocalization was closer to a schizophrenic rant. At first it seemed a fantastic put on but then it became a fascinating veil. At that point his saxophone playing and his mumbling storytelling melded together into a unified, mysterious gesture.

Next was a solo set by Han Bennick. Whereas Doyle came across as detached and saturnine, Bennick was ballistic and anarchic. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen someone play the drums with such a contrasting combination of precision and freedom. At times he would kick his feet up on the toms while he played. He was a total showman with the heart of a jokester. I understand that many people associate free jazz with something very serious and solemn, but Bennick was quite the opposite. At one point during his set he stopped everything and asked the audience if there were any questions. P.G. Moreno of Epistrophy Arts shouted out,  “What’s your favorite cheese?” Bennick shouted back, “Fuck that cheese.” He had the audience on the edge between laughter and amazement.

Doyle and Bennick finished the night with a duo. Doyle began onstage by himself, attacking his sax. Bennick began playing off-stage on unseen drums. Then he came forward unexpectedly by throwing his crash symbols onstage. Doyle seemed as surprised as the audience. Bennick then returned to his drumset and continued playing like a crazed character out of a Werner Herzog film. Klaus Kinski comes to mind. Local art blog Emvergeoning.com has a Youtube clip of this moment. The night basically ended when Doyle began walking inquisitively around the stage like a character out of Waiting for Godot. Bennick realized the duo had pretty much ended and wrapped it up. A standing ovation ensued. Confusion reigned.   

— Mark Jones



The Sunset Scavenger (01/24/2007)

When I finally left Los Angeles, I rode a bus from Silverlake to downtown along Sunset Boulevard, stopping at Amtrak’s historic Union Station. From there, I boarded the Sunset Limited and took a lengthy journey back to Texas that ended at San Antonio’s Sunset Station. That trip, I thought, would be the extent of my “sunset” train experience.

But then filmmaker Bill Daniel came to town in his van, the Sunset Scavenger, to show his much-traveled documentary, Who is Bozo Texino?, a film about hobo graffiti, train-hopping, and the elusive identity of legendary hobo Bozo Texino. (Back around 1997, Daniel used to come to town once a week to show films for his micro-cinema series Funhouse Cinema.)

Who is Bozo Texino? was a 16-year journey for Daniel. He rode the rails across much of the western half of the country with his Super 8 and Bolex cameras, gathering interviews and shooting hours upon hours of footage, all at great risk, but also with great excitement, which comes through in this final version of the documentary. The film was shot in grainy black-and-white, which lends a timeless quality to this fading culture. The music was scored by Texas punk legend Tim Kerr and SST producer Spot. Full of country blues and slide guitars, it evokes a sense of nostalgia. What struck me most were the wild sounds of the trains, which were fortuitously augmented by the real sounds of trains traveling by several feet outside Fl!ght gallery, where the movie screened last Thursday.

During the Q&A session that followed the screening, Daniel commented that hobos have always said their lifestyle used to be easier, and after 9/11 riding the rails became even more difficult. Given that, Who is Bozo Texino? most likely stands as the definitive statement on boxcar-graffiti culture. The film will soon be distributed on DVD. Daniel’s website, Billdaniel.net, gives the most up-to-date information.

After the film a group of people headed up South Flores to the old Judson Candy building to watch Potter-Belmar Labs project video images of graffiti onto the side of the building. It was a wonderful, spontaneous moment, and I only wish I had arrived earlier to see more of it.



Searching for SA's Roots in the River (01/17/2007)

Recently, I got a message that ice-cream king Justin Arecchi wanted to talk.

I went to his new location on Main Street in Monte Vista and found myself listening to something he deeply cared about: downtown and the current state of the River Walk. An hour later it was obvious this is something we all should care about.

Arecchi ran Justin’s Ice Cream Company and other establishments on the River Walk for more than 38 years to great acclaim (President Clinton called his mango ice cream “a national treasure.”) If anyone can speak confidently about the River Walk, Justin is the guy.

The obvious reason Justin wanted to talk about the River Walk is because of the way he was unceremoniously booted from his location when landlord Curtis Gunn decided not to renew his lease and instead did business with Houstonian Tilman Fertitta, CEO of Landry’s Restaurants, Inc. One could easily accuse Justin of sour grapes except that Justin is very much an advocate for the city’s cultural heritage and the River Walk in particular. He has served as president of the King William Neighborhood Association and, more pertinently,  as chairman of the City’s Historic Review Board.

Before 1992 the River Walk had an advocacy group, a city board called the River Walk Commission, which had some control over how the waterway could be developed.  The Historic Design Review Committee took over commission’s duties and the results speak for themselves. The River Walk’s shores are now graced with the Hard Rock Café, Planet Hollywood, Rainforest Café, and Landry’s Seafood (which also holds the contract for the restaurant and bar in the Tower of Americas).

The character of the river has changed and this should be every San Antonian’s concern. If locals don’t want to drive downtown to eat at a chain restaurant when they can do so more easily in a suburb, one has to ask at what point tourists will begin to wonder the same. That’s a frightening thought, economically.

Will Rogers called San Antonio one of America’s four unique cities. I wonder how unique the late Rogers would consider our Hard Rock Café, for example? Luckily, Arecchi has not given up on his commitment to independent, original food, and has turned his attention to historical Monte Vista, just north of downtown, at 2212 N. Main. Though he’s come full circle and is starting over again with Justin’s On Main, Arecchi is able to draw from his long experience on the river. He wants to make his Main Street café a neighborhood hub by diversifying — by still serving their world famous ice cream, but also serving panini sandwiches, beer and wine, and gourmet coffee, and by offering live music at nights, free wifi, and the occasional lecture tour and book reading. His enthusiasm is contagious and I’m excited to watch him make it all happen.

As our conversation shifted from politics to history, Arecchi confirmed an interesting footnote: Best-selling author Alex Haley did in fact come to live above the River Walk to write. In his most famous book, Roots, Haley retraces his personal history. Perhaps our current city leaders could try to find that old apartment above the river and live there for a few months. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find the inspiration to take the city back to its roots. And fast.



Foreclosures, Werewolves, and Magic Lanterns (01/10/2007)


Though last Tuesday was a day of remembrance for Gerald Ford (and yes it did seem like the remembrance was actually gaining momentum with each passing day), there was work to be done around town. Congressman Al told me there would be a house-foreclosure auction that morning on the courthouse steps. There’s nothing like betting on someone’s misery to add a spring to your gait. I thought it would be an interesting glimpse into how the real world works. Nonetheless, an auction at the courthouse seemed very antiquated to me. I hoped to see people riding in on horses. When we arrived, there were actually two different auctions happening concurrently. On the left side of the steps a police officer was auctioning houses that were delinquent in their city taxes. On the right side of the steps, banks were auctioning houses that were behind in their mortgage. About 60 people were crammed as tight as possible on the right, and at any point between three to six houses were being auctioned at once.

Someone with a clipboard would start speaking aloud, and an auction would begin.  Two competing companies sold books detailing the upcoming foreclosures. Because of that, numbers were being yelled that corresponded with the different guidebooks. As soon as one auction would get going, another one would pop up somewhere else. Legally, the auction had to take place on the actual courthouse steps. Sometimes, it seemed like the bank wanted to buy the house for themselves so they would slink off to a remote part of the opposite steps and start quietly reading their clipboard, hoping no one else would catch on to what they were doing. As one of those moments began again, we too slipped away, not sure what we learned that day.

First Friday was less crowded than normal, probably due to the Spurs game against Dallas. Given the smaller crowd, I was able to spot some semi-familiar faces. At one point I remember talking to the Fl!ght Gallery crew about a possible werewolf sighting the night before. I wasn’t the one who reported it, nor really believed it, but according to them there might be a werewolf (from the Greek lukanthropos, “wolf man”) at the Alamo Quarry Golf Club lake. From there the conversation downshifted to the legacy of Cheech and Chong comedy routines, did Whitley Strieber lie, and most importantly, how does one say the plural of Big Foot? Big Foots or Big Feet?  

Through visiting artist Luke Savisky, who had returned for one final performance at Three Walls Gallery, I was put on the guest list at the Magic Lantern Castle, a museum on Austin Highway that is the world’s authority on, that’s right, magic lanterns. Magic lanterns, I learned, were the dominant form of projecting images before the invention of motion-picture projectors. The museum, or castle, is so specific in its focus, at first I thought it was a put-on, in the same way Los Angeles’s Museum of Jurassic Technology is a wonderful jest. But the curator and owner Jack Judson is an enduring force of nature and his museum might be the most interesting one in town. [For a profile of Mr. Judson and his museum, see “The oldest picture show,” March 1-7, 2006.]

As I was sitting, waiting for Mr. Judson to begin his presentation, I realized this building used to be Shakey’s Pizza back in the early ’80s, and I was sitting in what was the old game room where Shakey used to show Buck Rogers serials. Those films had an H.G. Wells retro-futuristic vibe that seemed similar to the aesthetics and exotica of the magic lanterns . And so I felt old but young, back at Shakey’s pizza, back in town again after a long journey, moving forward, yet now intrigued by a past I didn’t know existed, and my own past I thought I had forgotten. Later, as Mr. Judson busted out his theremin, I went outside and got on my bike and made the slow way home. I felt like I was moving forward, I think.



San Antonio Legends (Once and Future)


Casa Navarro is an interesting, overlooked historical site in downtown San Antonio. The only reason I know about it is because I went there with the Old Man to buy a State Park pass for a Christmas gift. Evidently, you can do that there.  After ringing a bell on a gate a caretaker let us in the compound and gave us a quick tour of the lime-stuccoed adobe buildings and some history on Tejano patriot José Antonio Navarro. The whole setup is slightly surreal, for though Navarro’s house was part of the original Spanish settlement downtown, it is now hidden in the jail parking lot across the street from the police station on Nueva Street.  

Among many things, I learned that the famous Navarro family later was in cahoots with the Tobin family, and as we all know that lineage is responsible for a good portion of San Antonio’s heritage. I wanted to joke with the wonderful caretaker/guide José Zapata about a possible Masonic conspiracy strangling the city but I was more intrigued with the buildings.  Zapata maintains the buildings in their original adobe form, even making adobe bricks on site and lime-washing the adobe walls once a year. This is a dying tradition in the U.S., and the only other person I know who is still doing it is Simone Swan, a fascinating woman who retired from the international art world, left her position at the Menil Foundation in Houston, and went to study anti-Modernist architecture in Egypt under the much celebrated (though now forgotten) Hassan Fathy. Swan has been out in West Texas for several years with her Adobe Alliance trying to introduce Egyptian styled architecture as a form of very low-income housing.

A few days later I felt like I was driving towards B.F. Egypt, but really I was just on my way out to Ingram Park Mall for a Q&A with Spurs legend “Big Shot” Robert Horry. I convinced “Congressman” Al to go along specifically because in 1989 he missed the opportunity to meet the Spurs’ chain-smoking, bench-warmer Zarko Paspalj at the Pizza Hut on Austin Highway. It’s been a running joke ever since then, and I told Al how much better his life might have been had he shared a deep-dished pie and a pack of smokes with Zarko that fateful day. For me, the highlight of the talk with Horry was when the Coyote came out and threw a free gift interestingly close to a kiosk where a woman was face down getting massaged, blissfully unaware of the mad scramble advancing dangerously towards her.

On Saturday night I ended up at the Limelight to see Capitol Records’ Sound Team, a former Alamo Heights band now making music and getting chicks up in Austin. Grammy- and Oscar-winner Christopher Cross was also from Alamo Heights. Along with Kenny Loggins, Toto, Jimmy Buffet, and Michael McDonald, Christopher Cross wrote number-one songs and was a pioneer of the wretched “Yacht Rock” movement of the mid-’70s to early-’80s. The San Antonio interconnection continues because when yacht-rocker Michael McDonald was in his more famous band, The Doobie Brothers, he sang their signature song “China Grove,” a mysterious ode to the SA suburb of the same name. I realize this has absolutely nothing to do with Sound Team. Before I jinx them by ridiculously placing the dying legacy of yacht rock on their shoulders, I think it’s best I stop right here.   However, if the major label starts giving them headaches and they need advice, I hear they might be able to find Christopher Cross out on his boat on one of Austin’s many lakes perhaps humming the lyrics to his number one song “Sailing.”



On The Street (12/10/2006)


Around noon on Tuesday I was in a car driving west on 410 for seemingly ever to that nether region of the city that falls between Ingram Park Mall to the north and the 410/90 junction to the south. I grew up in San Antonio and felt I had been pretty much everywhere across the city, and more recently most of it by bike, but this was one pocket, I realized, I had never been. The further we drove the more uneasy I became. There’s something about driving in a circle all the way around a city on a freeway that seems unnatural.

The sky was overcast which gave a drab uniform light to the drab uniform surroundings. A few minutes after we drove past the car lot on the left with the big Indian holding out his hand, I noticed an empty parking lot for an abandoned Walmart. These were the Badlands of San Antonio. Yes, if Walmart can’t make it here then there has to be something wrong (or wonderfully right, but that didn’t seem to be the case.) So why drive through all this, other than to complain about it? The goal: to find the elusive Holy Grail of all of restaurants, the best Thai food in town.

John was driving and his girlfriend Sara was in the backseat applying pressure to her bleeding finger. In my mind this reminded me of the scene out of Reservoir Dogs where Tim Roth screams from the back seat, holding his bleeding stomach, wondering where the hell he is going. But to be honest, Sara’s bleeding finger had little in common with Mr. Orange’s situation but it wasn’t from a lack of effort on her part. What the moment did have was some understated but surreal drama to make things interesting – Sara trying to get John to pay attention to her, John talking on his cell phone about money management while casually downplaying her injury, me stuck in the middle wondering why we didn’t just go to Tong’s Thai on Austin Highway where the people are friendly and everything is rainbows and unicorns.

We exited Marbach and took a wrong turn to the inside of the loop and discovered another empty parking lot for another abandoned store, this one with a Christian dinner theater having moved in to fill the crushing void. We made our way back across the loop and found our destination – yes, finally, Asia Kitchen.

One would think after driving for so long we would all jump out of the car, but no. There was a slight delay in going in to the restaurant. The bleeding finger drama had escalated and neither of them were going to budge from their position. Sara literally wouldn’t budge as she decided to stay in the car rather than go in. I went inside because it was getting too cold to sit out in the car. I tried to be of some assistance so I asked the waitress if she had a first aid kit for my friend in the car. As she sat John and I at our table, she told us that their first aid kit wouldn’t be of much help because it was for more major injuries, like if the dishwasher accidentally cut off his hand while slicing lemongrass. The customer next to us got a real kick out of that thought as he looked down at his food. Then I looked down at his food. And then I looked all around the restaurant. Everyone seemed to be about 500 pounds and eating lemon chicken with fried rice. How did I end up here? The idea that this place could serve even half-way decent Pad Thai seemed like a stretch at this point.

Sara eventually came in from the cold with a band-aid on her finger. Evidently, the waitress did have a normal band-aid hidden beneath the torniquet in the first aid kit. Sara sat down and she and John acted like whatever happened was no big deal, it happens all the time, in fact it will probably happen again in five minutes so why dwell on it?

I ordered a green curry with eggplant. I noticed that they served brown rice, but I’ve been to places that try to tell you that fried rice is brown rice so I wasn’t holding my breath just quite yet.

Well, the food showed up in good time. I took a bite. I couldn’t believe it. This really was the best Thai food in all of San Antonio. Sometimes something just clicks and no words are needed to describe it. You just know. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.



The Black Bean Death Lottery (12/06/2006)

Historically, Texans have been known to be larger than life. And Texas history, similarly, has been just as super-sized. I believe that’s fairly accepted. Of course one can say that’s it’s all just a myth. But a myth doesn’t necessarily mean a falsehood; it just means that it is a shared belief, even if the myth is not exactly true. If anything, paradoxically, a falsehood only makes the myth larger and adds to its strength. It creates its own asymmetrical reality. So where the hell am I going with this?

Follow me, literally. I was riding north on Austin Highway for some exercise. Texas history wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind. Austin Highway seemed like a different route to take so I headed out on a whim. But since we’re talking about history, Austin Highway these days seems anything but historic. Sure, its good to see Bun ’n’ Barrel BBQ still going fairly strong. But the American Graffiti drag-racing days are mainly a thing of the past. My memories of Austin Highway are from the 1980s when I would see prostitutes walking around by the small motels right next to Terrell Hills! That always amused me — that the two could somehow exist right next to each other.

I passed the cemetery on the left and came across a Texas historical marker by chance. And this is what set my mind in motion. The marker was for something called the “Dawson Massacre.” I read it, and then back home read more about it online. To summarize: On September 11, 1842 (that’s right, 9-11!), San Antonio was invaded by a French mercenary leading an army of Mexican soldiers. They kidnapped almost all of the local judges and basically sacked the city. A group of Texans responded. Over by the Rittiman flea market the Battle of Salado Creek occurred. At the same time, some other Texans came into town to join the fight and were massacred, i.e., the Dawson Massacre.

Without getting into all the details of what happened next (including something called the “Black Bean Death Lottery” — I swear to you, I’m not making this up, and no, it’s not the name of a Heavy Metal band) I want to ponder the context of all this. San Antonio was captured by Mexico six years after Texas defeated Mexico at the battle of San Jacinto! One would think this would be something significant, right? I don’t remember that in Junior High.

And that’s what perplexes me — Texas, with it’s wonderful love of itself and all its stories, has pretty much abandoned this piece of its past. Sure, you could say it was a massacre, but the Alamo was a massacre too and that doesn’t stop thousands of tourists coming here every year to check it out. So why is that? All I can guess is that the Alamo falls into a better narrative arc; it’s the end of the second act. All seems lost. Third act: the come-from-behind victory at San Jacinto. All is well. End of story. Next 10 years, Texas was a nation! Cool, right!? I suppose no one wants to dwell on the less than glamorous aspects of those 10 years of nationhood as Mexico undermined Texas’s legitimacy. And, Santa Anna kept sticking around, like the Saddam Hussein of his era. It just doesn’t fit into a good story. There’s no myth there. It’s just the randomness of life.

So, I’m not going to expect any tourists will want to come to town to explore this seedy part of the past.  They should; there are some pretty bizarre stories; but they won’t. Just in case they do, though, and they need a place to stay, I know there are some motels on Austin Highway that would be happy to take their money, even if it is by the hour.



Before the Battle (11/14/2006)

Recently an old friend named Brett came through town on his way to Houston where he was to give a talk at one of the museums on something concerning contemporary art. I’ve forgotten the exact nature of his speech but I did later remember something entirely beside the point about Brett, which is that he had an early brush with infamy as a child actor in the movie The World According to Garp. Brett was the kid at the infirmary who gets his weener caught in his zipper. A very memorable scene. That was Brett, or at least that’s the story…

Through Brett, I met his friend Matthew Drutt, the new director of Artpace. That night I listened as they discussed the international art scene. In the process, I learned a little bit about a lot of things, including the work of one of the current Artpace residents, Allison Smith. In New York, Allison orchestrated an open-source art event at the forgotten Governor’s Island, wherein she combined Arts & Crafts with Civil War historical recreation. My mechanic is a historical recreation actor, and I was curious how a contemporary artist would approach historical recreation. I asked Matthew if he could arrange an informal interview, and a few days later on a brilliantly blue Friday afternoon, I was riding my bike down to Artpace to do just that.

At that moment my bike was recently out of the shop, and through the vagaries of vintage bicycle repair, I now had a different gear for my single-speed cruiser. A new gear is not something I sought out, but that was the new reality and going uphill was now a bit more of a challenge.

I rode south on McCullough and made use of the bike lane. It’s not a route I would normally take, in part because my bike friends would laugh at me, and also because it can be unsafe at night with the lack of lights, but during the day it was a good choice. The steady downhill gave me a great opportunity to test the new gear. At Euclid I turned east towards Flores, and at Flores I headed south so I could approach Artpace from the rear and avoid the schizophrenic intersection at Main and San Pedro by the downtown library.

While on Flores, just south of M.K. Davis, I came across some construction for a new vegetarian restaurant, which looked intriguing, though still at least another month away.

At Artpace, Allison greeted me and showed me around her Texas-size studio. Allison comes from a deep Crafts tradition; at the same time she is inspired by Craft movements of the past that are atypical and convey personal expression, especially of politics and resistance. This nexus most likely will be the heart of her upcoming show, a show that I could tell that Allison has been working extremely hard to prepare for. There were handmade weapons on tables, tapestries on walls, silk-screened dresses, and most ominously, a large wood carved rocking horse that she said she will be riding into the gallery to begin the show. I would be foolish to try to explain too much. Allison’s work will speak for itself on Thursday night, November 16, at Artpace. A dialogue will begin at 6:30 p.m. and the reception will open from 7:30-8:30pm. I’ll see you there.



Rough Ride, in Film and Real Life (10/25/2006)


Some weeks, not everything comes together. By that I mean an effort is made, an expectation is raised, a result, however, is not always met. Coincidentally, my bike is still in need of repair and the clouds have been rather cloudy as of late so these two concepts seem to be working in parallel and dovetail nicely, sadly.

But to rewind. Early in the week I perused the website for the San Antonio Film Commission and saw that a film crew from LA is in town shooting a boxing movie. Sounded interesting enough. The filmmaker, Jimmy Nickerson, is a first-time director, which either means it’s actually his first time to make a movie, or his real first film didn’t make a big enough splash so there’s no point in referring to it. There’s no shame in this: P.T Anderson’s first film wasn’t Boogie Nights, nor was Linklater’s first film actually Slacker but the impression that it was remains.

I read that Nickerson was a career stuntman in Hollywood for more than three decades, and Imdb.com listed more than 30 huge action movies that featured his stunt services, including the first Rocky film. I emailed the production office to schedule an interview, hopefully during lunch break because lunch generally has a pleasant vibe on a film set — that is, of course, if the catering is good.

After a few days I received an email to come by the set. A producer/writer seemed to be hinting that I might interview him instead but the director was the more interesting story. I called them and left a message to finalize the meeting, get directions, and that sort of thing. I never heard back. Welcome to LA.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it because that day I was thrown not a curve ball but more like a change of speed. A friend had just come back to town and the next day was his birthday. His ex-girlfriend was planning a surprise party for him that night. The weird thing was that he was already told that a group of us were going to take him to dinner that night, so the real surprise would be that we actually wouldn’t be going out to eat but instead stay in and be entertained by a belly dancer. This sounds euphemistic but I believe it was legit.

My role was to distract him during the day for six hours and then deliver him at home at exactly 7:15. Six hours! Not to mention how to time such a precise landing. My mind wandered over possibilities. Lunch. A movie. Feigning car trouble. My planning never got further than that. I was going to have to wing it.

I called him on the day in question at 1 p.m. and was a little surprised when his ex-girlfriend answered his cell phone. I was completely shocked when I found out my friend was in the hospital under heavy narcotics having just suffered an attack of gall stones and pancreatitis. On his birthday. He was waiting for his pancreas to improve so the surgeons could remove his gall bladder.

I spent the part of the next few days hanging out with him at the hospital. On the last day, I went by the Starbucks at the hospital to get a café Americano. That was going to be my small satisfaction, possibly for the week. When the rookie behind the counter began to mangle my drink I tried to keep my composure.

For this small moment, my expectation would be met.



On the Street (10/18/2006)


Normally, to bike downtown I take a rather complicated route — south on Devine through Olmos Park, left at Alamo Stadium, bomb the hill towards the Zoo, ride across a faux-bois bridge into Brackenridge park, go south on a bumpy bike lane behind the Lions Club, continue on to Avenue B, take a left at Grayson, take a right on Alamo street, and from there it’s smooth sailing until Alamo dead-ends. When I asked my friend Brian how he rides downtown, he responded, “I just take Broadway.” That kind of took the piss out of my Byzantine process. I didn’t think it should be that easy. So, I tried.

It was. The best part of this route is the end, the 100 block of Broadway: The gateway into downtown. Except that it really isn’t. The 100 block is like a small version of Time Square circa 1970. This is the block with the huge antique store, Paris Hatters, the Texas T pub, a loan office, and some empty storefronts. With the exception of Twin Sisters cafe, new blood doesn’t seem to last long here.

I hadn’t been on the curb for more than 30 seconds taking notes when a guy in a cowboy hat emerged from Paris Hatters and asked if I was with “those other guys.” Evidently a lot of people on bikes have been coming to this block and taking notes.

I walked across the street to see the jewel of the block, the historic Atlee Ayres building at 118 Broadway. I expected to find a few private investigators in the lobby directory. Instead I saw Build San Antonio Green, Suite 223. It had to be a CIA front. I took the elevator up to see more.

Build San Antonio Green is a nonprofit organization that accredits “green” building. They have a large showroom to showcase materials such as Compressed Earth Blocks and cork flooring. The website, Buildsagreen.org, is a great resource for someone looking to remodel a fixer-upper.

As I learned about the water-saving properties of an Australian two-speed flush toilet, I glanced out the window. I hoped to see a parade of bicyclists looking around taking notes, or better, the guy with the cowboy hat from the David Lynch movie staring at me ominously. Instead, I just saw an old neighborhood and wondered what would survive — Build San Antonio Green or the old ’hood. Hopefully, both.



Marching Alone (10/08/2006)


On Wednesday I read an article that Jeff Spicoli (aka Sean Penn) would be involved with an “end the Iraq War” protest on Thursday in NYC. I later learned that the protest, organized by the group World Can’t Wait, was going to be held all across the country. San Antonio would be one of the locations, with or without Hollywood actors, 5 p.m. Thursday at HemisFair. I had to see how Say-Town would represent itself.

Driving a car to an anti-Iraq-War protest seemed grossly inappropriate, like showing up drunk to a MADD demonstration, so after studying for my anatomy test, I grabbed my bike and headed downtown. Clearly, a bike was the only way to get there; unfortunately, my bike was having problems. I did what I could to quickly fix it so I could still go, but it still made a horrible sound, like a cross between my Canon 814 Super8 camera, and an MRI machine.

I arrived at HemisFair at 5:15 p.m. in time to hear the chant: “If the people are united we’ll never be … DEFEATED.” I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stifle a small laugh. After a few back and forths, someone got on the bullhorn and the word DIVIDED was substituted and the rhyme was complete.

There were about 60 people. A few women from Code Pink. I did a quick crowd survey. First, anyone I recognize? No, but that’s expected; I just moved back to town. Most of the people held signs while standing on the curb looking out at traffic on Alamo Street. A few buses would drove by and honked in support. Occasionally a guy would drive by and make the two-finger peace sign. Then an obnoxious lady drove by and made the less-friendly middle-finger sign.

I hung in the back and tried to get a feel for the whole event. There were a good number of people with cameras and pens and paper. Reporters, I assumed. I suppose I should have been doing the same but I was too busy convincing myself that I was a columnist and not a reporter. But by hanging out in the back I’m afraid I came across less like a stoic hipster and more like an undercover cop.

So why didn’t more people show up? It can’t be that the majority of society still supports the Iraq War. Opinion polls strongly suggest otherwise. I can only guess that people are so predisposed against any form of street protest that they stay away out of fear of … something.

It is odd that a majority of society is against the war but also against any form of active protest. This is a bizarre parallel trend. In the 1960s there was a thing called THE DRAFT that really galvanized people into protesting that war. Noam Chomsky took a lot of heat for being in support of the draft, but he’s right fundamentally in that if this is our country’s war then the country should fight it collectively. I’m not saying I’d want to go, but I think he’s right. And if people don’t want to go, then that fact will be felt soon enough. And it was. The current administration is well aware of this point, not the least of which because they all avoided the draft, but also because they know that there will never be any popular support for a draft, and therefore, a war. So what does that really say about our country?

As I rode my bike home, that thought kept bouncing around in my head. And though my bike was almost on its deathbed, it was still easier to fix than the problems in Iraq.



On the Street (10/04/2006)


About 8:15 on Friday night I headed downtown on my bike to the Alamo. The Downtown Highlife Bicycle Club was having its monthly ride. For those unfamiliar with the event, it begins at 9 p.m. on the last Friday of the month at the Alamo.

When I arrived I found a small, diverse group of white people on bikes — a few students, some bike collectors, a landscaper, a teacher, and a bike mechanic, ranging in age from 20 to 62. We were a lucky baker’s dozen and after some catching up and introductions be-tween new acquaintances, we headed off.

Our destination was Woodlawn Lake but our route took us first north toward San Antonio College. We snuck through the SAC parking lot and then cruised west through San Pedro Park. I hadn’t been to the park for a long time so it was good to see the successful restoration.

After briefly riding north on Flores, we doglegged around Ashby to Blanco and took a short break at the corner of Ashby and Blanco — the previous location of Mr. Taco, back when they had pay televisions at every booth.

After raising the eyebrows of a few kids waiting for the bus, we began a straight shot west on Cincinnati. Cincinnati begins inauspiciously at Blanco and it has the faded glamour of a forgotten boulevard most likely done in by the construction of I-10.

A few blocks later we rode triumphantly underneath the Josephine Tobin arch welcoming us to Woodlawn Lake. At night the lake really is a sight to behold. Curving around the west end of the lake I spotted a building that used to be the Peacock Military Academy. At the turn of the century, the previous century, this was the historic West End, and I remember reading about the famous filmmaker King Vidor, who went to school at Peacock. As a side note, Vidor has the longest career of any filmmaker, having shot his first one-reeler in 1913 about the great Galveston flood. He made his last film in 1980 right before his death. That’s longevity.

We biked back east on Woodlawn and then south on Flores into downtown. As we neared Travis Street a discussion began about what bar to hit. Travis 151 doesn’t have good bike parking — funny but true. The Esquire, someone informed me, just closed for remodeling. Everyone but me had heard this story and when I asked why the facelift, the chorus was something about remodeling to be more family-friendly. Jeez. The Esquire was probably the last place in town where you could still be approached by a guy with a trench coat full of watches for sale. And I mean that in a good way.

We settled on La Tuna and headed south on St. Mary’s, riding next to a group of classic cars wandering downtown, looking for a ZZ Top music video to hang out in it seemed. They would rev their engines and burn rubber and then drive for a block and stop at a red light. The fact that we pretty much stayed with them all the way until Southtown must have created an existential crisis for them. South of Durango they floored it and took off for good — and us, we kept on riding.


On the Street (9/24/06)


Looking for an honest mechanic can be like spelunking — a dark and lonely business. Luckily for me I was given a good recommendation and I took my injured Honda Accord station wagon over to Mac Auto on 3810 Eisenhower, which is just down the road from an old flea market that used to sell fake IDs, bad sunglasses, shurikens, and other ninja paraphernalia back in the ’80s.

As I approached the office to talk to owner Ralph Murillo, I saw a tall guy wearing a really large cowboy hat go in before me. I sat in the office and waited my turn while Ralph talked shop with the cowboy.

As I listened in on their conversation it became apparent they weren’t discussing the pros and cons of flushing a radiator. The cowboy was discussing some sort of gig he just had at a ranch where he was paid to, from what I gathered, impersonate John Wayne. I had to second-guess myself for a moment to make sure I was hearing this right because they were so casual about something that seemed hard to understand. Ralph knew all too well the people being discussed. There was some mutual sighing and rolling of the eyes as certain names were mentioned as well as a discussion of the difference between being inspired by a performer and outright stealing material.

At this point I began to look around the office. Like many auto shops there were spare parts fastened to pegboard walls and other accoutrements of the shop, but what caught my eye were a variety of posters for some group called The South Texas Gunfighters. The posters featured old black-and-white photos of banditos in front of a saloon.

Back to John Wayne. As I listened to the Duke and Ralph swap stories, it became apparent they were two actors discussing the inner workings of a trade. Though I just walked in to get a thermostat replaced, I was really getting a glimpse into a sub-culture unknown to me — historical-recreation entertainment.
After John Wayne left I talked to Ralph to learn more. Ralph, or “Sancho Garcia” as he’s known outside the shop, is the leader of the banditos I saw on the poster. Ralph and his group get hired out for a variety of events — the Poteet Strawberry festival, the Peanut festival in Floresville, parties at dude ranches, as well as benefits for the Muscular Dystrophy Association.

The performances are almost always different. Most recently, he and the boys hitchhiked onto tourist buses on the way to dude ranches and gave conventioneers from Iowa (or whereever) a taste of the Old West in the form of a surprise highway-robbery performance. All in good fun, of course, though I can imagine some tourists not catching on at first, and reaching for their wallet to buy off these windblown marauders, thereby making the joke all the more funny.

As we talked, the other mechanic Jeff (or “Dusty” as his alter ego is known) entered and told me that my car was ready. As I drove home I thought back to all the bad run-ins I’ve had with mechanics and I would say Ralph is probably the most honest mechanic I know. Whereas as some mechanics rob their customers for real, Ralph reserves his hijackings for the weekends when he’s “Sancho Garcia.”

Posted by Mark Jones on 3/2/2007 Permalink | Comments Bookmark and Share

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