James Minden’s Light Drawings scratch the surface of the mind’s eye.
Posted by: Aaron Scott and Anne Adams on Jun 13, 2011 at 07:00AM3 Comments
Look very closely at the following images; they are not 3-D. I repeat: not 3-D.
Nor are they digital, nor do they require a projector of any kind. Despite their appearance of high-tech innovation, these pieces from James Minden’s Light Drawings are actually flat sheets of plastic, hand-scratched to behave like holograms. Man imitating the work of a machine is a philosophically fascinating role reversal, but that’s no more or less relevant than the fact that these are really cool.
For those of you who may still be reeling from Monday’s hiphop let-down, let’s close the week on a note of redemption:
A familiar face in Monday’s crowd proved to be Tre Hardson, better known as rapper Slimkid3. Tre came up in the LA scene as a member of respected rap group Pharcyde, but these days he calls Portland home. For those who know him, this is no newsflash; still, it’s a point of interest, and a feather in the cap (or diamond in the grill?) of PDX hiphop. Catch him tonight at Rotture—not rapping, but spinning with monthly DJ showcase Live & Direct PDX. Or, snap up a free download of his latest EP, Baby Don’t Take The Fun.
PAM’s Allure of The Automobile opens this Saturday, giving auto afficianados a rare close-up look at sixteen of the finest vehicles in the world. << Click on the image to the left to preview a few.
PCS’s tribute show will—intentionally—give you the blues.
Posted by: Eleanor Brown on Jun 08, 2011 at 02:00PM1 Comments
Janis Joplin may have died in 1970, but Portland Center Stage is striving to keep her spirit alive. In One Night with Janis Joplin, PCS has resurrected the legend of the self-described “white chick singing the blues,” offering her fans the impossible: a second chance to experience the power of her live performance.
Developed by Randy Johnson in collaboration with Janis’ siblings, Laura and Michael Joplin, One Night is a tribute concert hemmed in by a narrative flow (and a massive wreath of colored lights and tulle). With a band standing behind her and images of memorabilia projected on a screen as she speaks, Janis (Cat Stephani) shares her life story, feeding intimate biographical details to die-hard fans: She spent Saturday afternoons cleaning her house to a soundtrack of showtunes. She took odd jobs as a teen. She painted (and the images of the paintings are projected onscreen.) Interspersed with these detailed anecdotes, are philosophical musings about the blues. “People like their blues singers miserable, they like their blues singers to die afterwards,” says the implausibly prescient singer. (It’s almost like she knows!)
This role puts Stephani in a sensitive position: with every flip of her hair, every pause and phrase, every squawk and murmur and scream, she either reinforces or debunks audience preconceptions about a rock hero. She tries her best to match Janis’ gravelly voice and raspy cackle, but her classically-trained voice is too smooth and pretty to allow for direct imitation. Stephani most closely approximates Janis on the high notes, where her power shines through and her emotional delivery provides the rawness that will satisfy seekers of a Janis-like sound. Because she’s consistent within her own interpretation of the character, as the show wares on the audience gradually accepts the “new” Janis, and opens up to the character’s vulnerable, intimate side. “I know no guy has ever made me feel as good as an audience,” Stephani confesses with a low hum of sexuality that makes the crowd blush.
Sabrina Elayne Carten performs alongside Stephani as The Blues Singer, embodying the musical influences Janis adored (Etta James, Odetta, Nina Simone). Carten’s show-stealing voice and captivating physical presence feel steadier than Stephani’s attempts to channel Janis’ physicality. Carten also gets the best getups; the white fringe number that she wears while portraying Bessie Smith drawing gasps from the audience.
The final song, “I’m Gonna Rock My Way to Heaven,” was written by Jerry Ragovoy for Janis, and when the character mentions it she turns to her guitarist. “We’re gonna record that one real soon, yeah?” She never did.
In the singer’s own words, “It’s the want of something that gives you the blues. It’s that hole, it’s the vacuum.” Ultimately, amid the triumph of the tribute show, the tragedy of the loss looms even larger.
As famed Québécois troupe Cirque du Soleil sends in its clowns, PDX provocateurs brew “a dark fairytale.”
Posted by: Anne Adams on Jun 07, 2011 at 02:00PM0 Comments
Is it just us, or do the ringmasters from Bogville and Dralion kind of look alike?
Click through this slideshow to see characters from both shows, or scroll down to watch a Bogville video preview.
Is it just us, or do the ringmasters from Bogville and Dralion kind of look alike?
Click through this slideshow to see characters from both shows, or scroll down to watch a Bogville video preview.
DRALION June 15-19 How does world-renowned performance troupe Cirque du Soleil balance its feng shui? Using four performers as the four elements. In Dralion, red-cloaked Shinto demon Yao represents “fire” and commands the rhythm section. Fluidly moving green-garbed Thai dancer Oceane symbolizes “water,” providing the show’s ebb and flow. Blue baroque ballerina Azala wafts overhead as “air,” and tribal goddess Gaya, in brown and rainbow hues, holds down the fort as “earth.” With a name that fuses “dragon” and “lion,” Dralion attempts to connect East with West and unite the past with the future. Lest that vision prove too grandiose, you can at least count on being spellbound by novel variations on Cirque’s consistently magical mix of acrobats, contortionists, aerialists, dancers, and clowns.
BOGVILLE June 17-18 While Soleil explores the elements, local quirk-cirque outfit Wanderlust (as seen in Portlandia’s “Dream of the 90’s” sketch) will plumb the primordial ooze with Bogville, an immersive—and subversive—“dark fairytale” performance piece set between several stages under the sprawling big top of Refuge PDX. Narrated by the puckish Jay Lieber, and featuring the music of cello grande dame Ashia Grzesik of Vagabond Opera, Bogville promises to plunge patrons into a delightfully devious netherworld, where serpentine bellydancers, mischevious urchins, and tattooed ladies hold sway.
Rapper Aceyalone’s show at The Crown Room drew a decent turnout—especially for a Monday night. Hippies, hipsters, and homies mingled peacefully as an R&B act warmed up the crowd, starting late and playing long. Oh well; so far, s’all good.
When the first rapper finally hit the stage, headliner Aceyalone emerged at the front of the crowd, energetically dancing and essentially hyping the little-known spitter. Then another rapper who wasn’t Acey took the stage. And another. And another. Even the show’s host wedged in a few of his own numbers while DJ’s were changing guard. Though each act dropped Acey’s name to drum up applause, none seemed particularly respectful of his time—or the fact that, past a certain point, he was no longer visible in the room. The night’s de facto headliner, beatific bay-area hipster Rashaan Ahmad, earned a roomful of nods and energetic crowd participation. But by the time he finished it was at least half past 12, and there was still one more opener to go.
THEFALLOUT
Aceyalone, the self-proclaimed “golden goose,” must have skipped out at around 1. “If I were him, by 1 a.m. I’m sure I’d be thinking ‘Well, you obviously don’t need me here,’” commented longtime local rock musician Denver Warner, and several have chimed in agreement. Indeed, musicians and fans from all concert scenes can commiserate with the situation: a popular act is dangled like a carrot in front of a waning crowd, while promoters try to drag out the downtime to boost bar sales or hype no-name support acts.
This concertgoer would have preferred to pay a $10–15 ticket price for a well-paced show, rather than an (un-refunded) $5 to spend the whole evening getting slowly drained like a sugar beet. As Aceyalone might’ve said if he’d stuck around: “Thanks, but no thanks. Pranks, or no pranks. I’m’a let them know they can’t rank.”
BETTERBETS
In the future, Culturephile will put better money on juggernauts like Soul’d Out, or count on volunteer love-fests like PDX Pop Now to come through.
Stop dismissing hiphop, and let this veteran emcee “school” you.
Posted by: Anne Adams on Jun 06, 2011 at 11:00AM6 Comments
“I don’t like hiphop.”
How was your weekend? I spent mine inviting friends to see Aceyalone tonight at the Crown Room—and being repeatedly turned down cold. “No thanks; I don’t like hiphop,” several have said. Now, before you jump to conclusions about the company I keep *, let’s admit that in Portland, this is a familiar if regrettable refrain. But why? In a town that’s so inherently rebellious and articulate, you’d think hiphop would be the coin of the realm. After all, a good MC can cram more incendiary ideas and clever wordplay into a three-minute “flow,” than Arlo Guthrie could eek out in 18 minutes of Alice’s Restaurant. What’s not to love?
You haven’t met Aceyalone.
Detractors are quick to point out that hiphop doesn’t always deliver. Too often, hustlers, ho’s, and club-compatible, dumbed-down dance beats drown out what should be a sophisticated showcase of the spoken word. But discerning listeners need to stop throwing the proverbial babies out with the endless flood of industry bathwater. After all, if you said you didn’t like country music, you’d miss out on Willie Nelson**. If you claimed you couldn’t stand folk, you’d exclude game-changers like Bob Dylan and Paul Simon. And if you broadly wave away rap and hiphop, you’ll never lend your ear to brilliant MC’s like Aceyalone.
Here are a couple tracks Acey put out in 1995, that still sounded brand-new and brilliant when I first heard them in 2007 via friends at local animation studio LAIKA. Animators—typically obsessed with creativity, novelty and craftsmanship—unsurprisingly connected with Acey’s album All Balls Don’t Bounce.
Listen up as Acey takes on the role of a teacher, patiently orienting us to basic “hip-hology,” using a mind-bending hybrid of the words “arithmetic,” “meticulous,” and “rhythm,” (and possibly even “arrhythmia”) as a manifesto for his calculating, challenging rhymes.
Now, here’s a track with more hooks than velcro. Between a piquant vibraphone loop and a soulful “uh-huh,” Acey explains how his angst propels him helplessly into the life of a poet. Deliberately departing from gangsta-thug clichés, he firmly defines himself as scholar-before-baller.
Okay, okay. This concludes the lecture. These days, the prolific Acey seems to have pulled back a bit on his pedantic rants and made peace with his place on the scene. Though he’s no household name, he’s still captured enough insider clout and attracted enough great collaborators to back up the boast that he’s “automatic at it.” Hence, let’s close with this slick submission.
Aceyalone will be at The Crown Room with Rashaan Ahmad, Theory Hazit, and the Reva Devito Band. The show starts at 9pm for a ridiculously reasonable 5 dollars. Erstwhile hiphop haters, it’s past time you came out of your comfort zone and into the flow.
*Most of the company I keep is over 25 years of age, while younger PDX intellectuals seem way more open to hiphop acts like Tyler The Creator or Lupe Fiasco.
**Don’t miss Willie Nelson. He’ll be at McMenamins at the end of July.
Portland Monthly was at Sasquatch this past Memorial day weekend—and we have the pictures to prove it!
Posted by: Julie Reposa on Jun 02, 2011 at 02:00AM2 Comments
Photo:
Julie Reposa
Portland’s own Typhoon opened up day three with the full band packed onto the Bigfoot stage. The band is fresh off a triumphant showing at SXSW in Austin and made quick work of wowing the crowd with their lively cathartic performance.
The Secret Sisters opened the Yeti stage on day two with their old-time country harmonies, including covers by Hank Williams and Willie Nelson to name a few.
Portland’s own Typhoon opened up day three with the full band packed onto the Bigfoot stage. The band is fresh off a triumphant showing at SXSW in Austin and made quick work of wowing the crowd with their lively cathartic performance.
The Flaming Lips performed the entirety of their acclaimed 1999 album, The Soft Bulletin on the second night of the festival. Yes, that is a choir of Dorothy’s you see.
The Flaming Lips, one of the day three headliners, takes the stage as Wayne Coyne does his obligatory roll around on the crowd in a giant hampster ball.
Wavves opening up the last day of the festival with an early morning set at 11:30 AM on the Main stage. I suspect this may have been the earliest lead singer Nathan Williams has been up in quite a while.
Mark Foster of Foster the People performing to a massive crowd on the Yeti stage (Yes that’s the small one) on the last day of the Sasquatch Music Festival.
Foster the People attracted a sea of fans as well as a cluster of media types trying to get a shot of the LA buzz band. The band’s star is quickly rising due to the release of their first full legth album Torches which includes the catchy, destined-to-be-a-summer-hit-song, “Pumped Up Kicks”.
View Slideshow »Photo:
Julie Reposa
Seattle rapper Macklemore took the Bigfoot stage to rapturous applause from his throng of fans on day four.
View Slideshow »Photo:
Julie Reposa
Macklemore showing off his old school fringed jean jacket to the crowd.
This past Memorial day weekend, the Gorge Amphitheater in Quincy, Washington played host to the biggest annual music festival in the Pacific Northwest, namely Sasquatch, which was celebrating its 10th anniversary. Portland Monthly was lucky enough to snag some press passes from the nice folks at Live Nation (Thanks Ashley and Brian!) which, among other things, meant we didn’t have to use a honeybucket once all weekend. It also meant that we were able to take some awesome pictures for you, our beloved readers, so please sit back, have your morning coffee and scone and watch this slideshow of the bands we saw and the weird people in costume we took sneaky photos of.
Were you at the Gorge this weekend? What bands rocked your socks off? Were you in the pit when The Flaming Lips threw Sasquatch birthday cake into the audience? How many of those pricey-yet-delicious frozen Strawberry Daiquiris served in tall plastic guitar cups did you have? Share your comments below!
This PBR-swilling, casual crew is bringing new blood to Portland’s poetry scene.
Posted by: Ryan Donaldson on Jun 02, 2011 at 01:00AM1 Comments
Top: Local poet and co-host of the If Not For Kidnap Poetry reading series, Jamalieh Haley
Bottom: Bad Blood host Drew Swenhaugen’s serenade after the reading
Top: Local poet and co-host of the If Not For Kidnap Poetry reading series, Jamalieh Haley
Bottom: Bad Blood host Drew Swenhaugen’s serenade after the reading
Final words from hosts Drew Swenhaugen, Zachary Schomburg, and Joseph Mains
“In me is a knife and fork eating you on the shore of the new world” ~Jamalieh Haley
“I feed my birds my wisdom and I feed my cats my birds.” ~ Joshua Beckman
As the sun set on one of the warmest Thursdays we’ve had in months, a crowd of people in eye-popping Spring prints and sunglasses paraded around the hip inner SE Worksound Gallery carrying cans of Pabst; eager for a dose of live verse delivered by the Bad Blood reading series. Started in October of 2010 as the mohawk-rocking brainchild of young Portland literati Joseph Mains, Zachary Schomburg (Octopus Books), and Drew Swenhaugen (Poor Claudia), Bad Blood has begun to expose PDX poetry’s razor edge.
The “Bad Blood” brand comes from a badge the group spotted in the rear window of a slick Cadillac lowrider, and it’s a testament to how visceral (dare we say, vampiric?) language can mobilize new poetry enthusiasts—several of whom crowded the overstuffed leather couches or sat cross-legged on the floor to take in the show. The stage, flanked by stacks of Peavey amps and black lights, could have received a rock band as easily as featured readers Joshua Beckman, Take It (Wave Books, 2009), Anthony McCann, I [heart] Your Fate (Wave Books, 2011), and local poet Jamalieh Haley, co-founder of the If Not For Kidnap Reading Series.
Drew, Zach, and Joseph all exuded an extraordinary stage presence, filling the audience with anticipation about the upcoming readers and hinting that each of them shared a personal connection with poets they introduced.
According to Joseph, this level of familiarity comes from their individual backgrounds as editors of poetry presses and journals and their experience as writers. Bad Blood was created to feature poets who travel and read often, but who might not be accessible to a greater audience outside academia. For the Bad Blood crew, “It’s about the idea that poetry is a life-changing event. We just try really hard to create an event that is conducive to that change… At some level we believe that poetry is something that can change the world. It’s going to come by bringing people in that don’t know much about poetry and know that what we’re doing is cool and fun. As a result it ends up being really special.”
In true rock concert fashion, a merch table stationed in the back of the room offered books from the guest poets, and other small-press releases. Bad Blood also issues a specially-printed booklet for every reading they host.
The Worksound Gallery located at 820 SE Alder
Check out Bad Blood #6, Saturday June 4th @ The Worksound Gallery 820 SE Alder St. featuring poets Graham Foust, Emily Kendal Frey, and John Niekrasz. For more about Portland arts events, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar, stream content with an RSS feed, or sign up for our weekly On The Town Newsletter!
Sallie Ford talks about writing, singing, and the hometown she gradually grew to love.
Posted by: Aaron Scott and Anne Adams on Jun 01, 2011 at 06:00AM1 Comments
Sallie Ford with bandmates Jeffrey Munger, Tyler Tornfelt, and Ford Tennis.
Last Tuesday Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside welcomed a respectable crowd to east-side record hub Music Millenium, playing a short set and signing copies of their debut full-length release, Dirty Radio. Despite their undeniably tight playing, the juke-rock revivalists kept a casual vibe. “I’m the boss!” Sallie blurted as the group debated song selection. Guitarist Jeff Munger snatched off his trucker cap and playfully swatted her.
But she has a point: Rising quickly from South Carolinian obscurity to Portland name-recognition, and now taking flight for international fame, Sallie Ford has become the master of her domain. Culturephile checks in with her on the cusp of a two-night stint at Doug Fir that will kick off her North American tour.
Three years ago, you were working as a server at a Thai restaurant on Hawthorne and having a hard time getting local bands to return your emails. Since then, you’ve acquired a tight band (The Sound Outside), a great label (Partisan), and the chance to tour the world. How does that feel? It was a Vietnamese restaurant, and I’m very glad I’m not working there anymore! It’s great that music is my job now, but that also means it can be a lot of work. Any unexpected challenges? Some unexpected challenges have been learning about the business side of things and learning to be patient and make good choices.
Your music has been described a few different ways. I’m inclined to call it “Rockabilly,” because that’s a classic form and a fun word—but what do you call it? My easy answer about how to describe my music is: “Rock n Roll.”
Fair enough. Tell us about your songwriting process. Lately, I usually will come up with a melody, and then lyrics, and then I add guitar chords. But I’ve also written guitar chords, then a melody, then lyrics. And occasionally I’ve written lyrics, then fit them to music. I mostly like to just see what comes out, and I never overthink things….I hope that makes sense.
You were already singing in South Carolina before you moved here. How did Portland influence your musicianship (or did it?) I had done some singing in North Carolina before I moved to Portland, but I didn’t start writing my own music ’til i moved to portland. I think it was nice to have a fresh start and not know anyone in Portland.
When you sing, “You may think I’m a clown/ Who gives a sh- t about this town,” which town are you singing about? “Who gives a sh-t about this town” was somewhat about how frustrated I was initially with the music scene in Portland, but I wrote that song because I dreamt about it. I woke up with the melody and words still in my head. Looking back, maybe it was a prayer to find my own “scene.”
Now that I have met more people in the music scene here (and there are many many bands as you know) I have a totally different view on that. I think people are very supportive here and it feels like a great scene to be in. So, which town were you thinking of when you wrote, “I kinda like it here?” The “I like it here” song is called “This Crew,” and it’s the counterpart to “This Town.” It’s about my love of Portland, and of course no city is perfect. That song is mostly about the things I’ve seen and people I’ve met on Hawthorne Boulevard, which has been my “hood” for a while now.
What do you think is most unique/essential to your act: your voice, your songs, or your instrumentation?
I guess my voice is the most important. I love singing more than writing or playing music.
Tell us about your semi-famous freelance puppeteer dad. What great inside tips has he given you about how to manage a creative project? Puppeteer Hobey Ford is my dad. He definitely has been my hero and role model. He has done a lot of touring with his puppet shows and gives great advice for performers on the road. He never finished college and has always been supportive and inspired me to be self-employed.
You’re (22? 23?) and, obviously, a woman. Do people ever tell you you’re "great for a girl,” or better than they thought you’d be? Do you think the pop music climate, and the touring circuit, are getting more female-friendly? I’m 23. I haven’t heard that before, but I guess maybe I have heard people be surprised that my music is more rockin’ then they expected. I think people are very supportive to touring women musicians, but I don’t have much to compare that to.
Where are you most excited to travel and why?
I’m excited to go to Charleston, SC because we’re gonna go to the beach while we’re there. I grew up going to Folly Beach, and it’s nice to have a paid vacation there! I’m also excited to go to New Orleans and Montreal. I’ve wanted to go to both those places for a while.
Sallie Ford and The Sound Outside will be at the Doug Fir Lounge June 3 and 4, promoting new album Dirty Radio. Sneak a listen here:
Posted by: Anne Adams on May 31, 2011 at 11:00AM0 Comments
Who: hiphop artist and actor | Where: Roseland Theater | When: April 17, as an eager fan returned a button that had popped off his shirt moments before.
“Where else but in Portland do you lose a button and somebody hands it back to you?”
This Coho Theater production delivers the most realistic lovers’ quarrels, and the lowest dose of surprise. If you like theater that “keeps it real,” you’ll love Reasons To Be Pretty.
Posted by: Anne Adams on May 30, 2011 at 01:00PM0 Comments
Nikki Weaver and Casey McFeron have a reasonable discussion.
Photo by director Gretchen Corbett.
Dying City, Jack Goes Boating, The Scene —and now, Coho Theater’s Reasons To Be Pretty. I don’t know whether to chalk it up to my own selection bias or a burgeoning trend, but this theater season seems to have been peppered with intimate love-and-loss dialogue dramas that eavesdrop on childless couples as they battle their individual and shared insecurities.
From this group, Pretty is by far the most realistic play. As the audience looks on, personal conflicts build up, climax, and then subside into mild and mature resolution. Conversations are not condensed; instead they seem to take place in real time, with repetitive, overlapping, and (realistically) ineloquent exclamations. The play’s many shouting matches are held in various “public” settings (the mall food court, the workplace breakroom, the apartment rooftop, the baseball diamond…) drawing the audience further into the premise. “I don’t care who hears me; I don’t know any of these people!” Stephanie (Nikki Weaver) shrilly exclaims as she and her boyfriend fight in the food court, looking defiantly around at the audience to cement the impression that we are really overhearing them. It’s indisputable that playwright Neil LaBute “keeps it real.” The question then becomes, does he keep it interesting?
Prior to producing Pretty, LaBute penned screenplays for The Wicker Man and Lakeview Terrace—both taut, paranoid thrillers with life-or-death stakes. Maybe after that he needed a break, and wrote Pretty to decompress and get back to dialogue, basic psychology, and the day-to-day mundane. And boy, did he grab that gauntlet, creating four completely empathetic yet relatively unremarkable “everymen.”
An adept cast fleshes out their archetypes and breathes emotion into the no-frills dialogue, with Greg (Casey McFeron) solidly maintaining the straight-man stance for the others to struggle against. John San Nicolas (last seen in Jack Goes Boating) is a hugely charismatic character actor, playing the affably immature Kent with effortless coordination and a bit of a wink. Kelly Tallent gives a sympathetic performance that teeters on the edge of exaggeration and artifice—but that’s arguably appropriate for Carli, the slightly dippy, reactionary character she plays. Nikki Weaver (last seen in Scene) pulls off the role of Stephanie, but seems distractingly ill-suited to it, since a key plot point is that her character doesn’t have a pretty face—yet Ms. Weaver undeniably does. Hearing a pretty woman repeatedly declared “plain” becomes the biggest stumbling-block to the play’s overall believability. Where’s a prosthetic warty witch-nose when you need one?
It’s easy to identify with these characters, to see oneself mirrored in one or more of their plights. What’s harder is to learn from them, or to be deeply amused or amazed. Where Jack had idiosyncratically innocent characters, Dying City delved into grief and war veteran issues, and Scene featured bold personalities and shocking twists, Pretty ’s characters are more or less normal people, expressing the usual concerns, exhibiting the typical reactions, and reach the inevitable conclusions.
Like a painting that mimics a photo, this play is an exercise in faithful recreation, and hence, a pure exploration of the object itself (in this case, the adult romantic relationship). Whether or not it moves you, you can appreciate it for how well it captures its subject. Pretty also satisfies the theater-goer’s natural voyeurism, allowing you to skulk in the imaginary bushes and overhear juicy conversations that shouldn’t concern you. If you enjoy character studies and vicarious living, this might be exactly your ticket. But be forewarned: If you have enough of your own relationship “drama,” this play is more likely to rehash it, than shed any new light.
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Arts and Culture Editor Aaron Scott has reported for Radiolab, This American Life, OPB, and others. He loves getting lost and finding his way out again.
Events Editor Anne Adams has spent 12 years in Portland and roughly 2 at Portland Monthly magazine. An avid arts appreciator who can zero in on a detail of gesture or craft, she’s also a major softie for music, humor, and philosophy.
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Culturephile chronicles the vibrant world of Portland arts & culture, along with its movers and makers.
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