June 2007

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A Thorny Pride

Filed under: Readings/Lectures

Dangerous chemicals, eye droppers full of water, intense fear of bugs—these are just a few of the things competitive rose growers deal with on a daily basis. In Otherwise Normal People: Inside the Obsessive and Thorny World of Competitive Rose Gardening master gardener Aurelia Scott describes a click filled with intense competitiveness; a world where gardeners hoard products for fear they will soon be banned from the country due to toxicity, where people attempt to train wild birds to eat beetles off of roses, and where improper pruning techniques could be the end of a season. City Pages took a moment to talk to the author about her experiences with rose enthusiasts in the floral underground.

City Pages: Why are rose competitions so cutthroat? Why not tulips? Peonies?

Aurelia Scott: There aren't a lot of competitions for other flowers-- perhaps part of the reason is that the relationship between roses and people has gone on so much longer than the relationship between people and other flowers. We have been loving and hybridizing other these creatures for thousands of years—a long time.

CP: You also mention that competitive rose gardening is a male-dominated world. Why do you think that is?

AS: I would say that there are several reasons—and this all might sound sexist or traditionalist, but I'm still trying to figure it out. Men have traditionally been associated with working with roses because they're big thorny objects that they had to deal with in the garden. Also, many men are naturally competitive. I think that appeals to men—the chance to combine a competition with a beautiful part of nature, which perhaps is not something that men often get to do in a creative kind of way—they can cut the lawn, but a chance to shape beauty for a little while is not something a lot of people get to do.

CP: Is it female-friendly for the few that do compete?

AS: Oh it is, yes! The women who are into it are very much welcome. Admittedly, it's a specialized sport, so I think men realize that to maintain interest you need to invite everyone. Maybe it heightens competition. There aren't many sports that combine genders.

CP: I was shocked to hear that winners aren't awarded cash prizes! How does this effect competition?

AS: Well, you are truly doing it for the thrill of the win, and knowing that for that show you did something better than anyone else in the room. People are usually honest in acknowledging that it's a combo of skill and luck as well.

CP: Any gardening practices that you found truly shocking?

AS: Probably the oddest—there is one lady I know who buries her roses. You can bend them over and put soil over them—they'll be fine next year. She also travels frequently and will bring roses back in her suitcases! I bring shoes back; she brings roses.

CP: Any extreme gardening practices you have that you'd care to share?

AS: I don't know that you can be too extreme. I have times when I yell at the weeds that I am pulling up. Not loudly—I pull them and say, "See! See! Take this!" When I spot a beetle, I now squish them. Pretty disgusting, yet oddly satisfying!

Aurelia C. Scott reads and chats about roses tonight at Magers & Quinn. Free. 5:00 p.m. 3038 Hennepin Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612.822.4611.

Posted by Jessica Armbruster at June 29, 2007 3:03 PM | Comments (0)

 

Sarah White leaves Black Blondie, moves to Brooklyn

Filed under: Local Music

Fans of local neo-soul band Black Blondie have noticed a conspicuous absence recently: Co-singer and rapper Sarah White is no longer in the group. Meanwhile, her MySpace page features a new song about "leaving to Brooklyn." Reached by phone, White confirms that she plans to relocate to the New York borough in August, along with her boyfriend DJ Don Cuco, of the Current's The Rhythm Lab (89.3 FM). "There's not exactly a huge scene here for black women," says White, who spent six years as one of the few female African American MCs in local hip hop. "Women, we've all kind of competed with each other and not supported each other. I've had people say I make music like a white girl—I got that a lot when I first started. People thought I was trying to jump into a scene that wasn't supporting my race, which maybe it isn't." As the sole woman in the Interlock crew, White recorded an excellent 2004 CD with the group Traditional Methods, Falling Forward (Interlock). She plays her last local show on July 21 at Musicapolis 2007, in the parking lot of the Minnesota Center for Photography, opening for I Self Devine, Kanser, and Omaur Bliss. Update: here.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 29, 2007 2:16 PM | Comments (3)

 

The Black Keys come out of the past to rock the Fine Line

Filed under: Concert Review

The Black Keys / The Fine Line / June 28, 2007

Text by Pat O'Brien

Better Than: R.L. Burnside being brought back to life

Ohio seems to be a place where, if you're a band, you want to be from another place and time altogether. Devo wanted to be from the future, Guided By Voices seemed like they would have been more at home in Mod '60s London, and now the Black Keys seem as though they could have sprung whole from the Mississippi Delta, circa 1950.

With a wave, smile and "Hi, we're the Black Keys" singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach ripped into the first song and the crowd seemed to stop talking and shoot bolt upright in the same motion, his whiskey-baked voice a beacon in a storm. The dirty, gritty, raw blues that essentially grabbed everyone by their collars is one thing on record, but seeing it live is quite another. The riffs were familiar, but not warmed over or worn threadbare like so many blues bands of late. Auerbach (who's beard made him look Civil War-esque) and drummer Patrick Carney gave new meaning to the term "workhorse," hammering out song after song with barely a word to the audience—not in contempt, they simply had a job to do. Carney very carefully took his glasses off before the set and it was soon apparent why; sweat was soon flailing from his brow, his hair hanging in long strings from the savage assault on his kit, the glasses would have removed themselves from his face in short order if he hadn't. If you closed your eyes, you'd swear there were four or five of them up there, and that's the draw—two guys, one vision, no frills. The crowd became more and more electrified with each song and the copious amounts of feedback between them until, with another smile and "We'll see you next time, thanks," it was over, the crowd hardly satiated but certainly content with what was given to them.

Personal Bias: I once told a friend "If you don't like the Black Keys, you don't like music"

Random Detail: A couple next to me slow danced like they were at an Usher concert the entire time

By The Way: There was a photo booth in the alley (set up by show sponsor Camel) where people were getting intentionally goofy pictures taken all night

Text by Pat O'Brien

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 29, 2007 9:20 AM | Comments (2)

 

Japanese art-punkers turn the Entry into one big mosh pit

Filed under: Concert Review

Melt Banana / 7th St. Entry / June 24, 2007

To a packed house crackling with energy, noisy Japanese art-punks Melt Banana took the stage and tore into their set without introduction. Soon bodies were flailing and flying into each other to the beat of rapid fire rhythmic twists and turns.

Read more of Christopher Matthew Jensen's review, and view more of Daniel Corrigan's photos, in our gallery section!

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 25, 2007 10:41 AM | Comments (1)

 

Rek the Heavyweight moves beyond his Atmospheric past

Filed under: Concert Review

Rek the Heavyweight / Station 4 / June 24, 2007

Sometimes I read cats wondering whatever happened to Jarobi from A Tribe Called Quest or Arabian Prince from N.W.A. And sometimes I used to wonder myself whatever happened to Spawn: ten years ago, Atmosphere dropped their debut Overcast! as a two-MC outfit, but Spawn—already a veteran—was out of the group by the time their second album came out. After changing his name back to pre-Atmosphere alias Rek and adding "the Heavyweight" for good measure, he basically hit the reset button and started back on the road to making his name all over again.

So while Slug gets the SuicideGirls.com crowd going berserk from coast to coast in big open-air festivals, Rek is pacing the stage in front of a dozen people on a Sunday evening in a venue better known for its metal shows. And even though he rocks a short set—about 20 minutes, wrapping everything up by quarter to 10 (man, everything closes early in downtown St. Paul)—dude gives it his all, looking like he just stepped in off the street with something to prove.

Sharing the stage with Rek is Cue Dangerous, a baldheaded dude in a sleeveless streetball shirt who throws out a couple good lines ("y'all gonna miss me if the Tek-9 jams/'cause I'm a broke rapper with Hollywood plans") and boasts a sharp Southern-style doubletime flow at one point.

It's tempting to wonder what an MC like Rek, with his straightforward but clever boast raps, would bring to an album like Seven's Travels or God Loves Ugly—but it's probably more worthwhile to cop what he is doing right now, under the radar but no less hard-working. Fingers crossed, maybe soon he'll finally be able to ditch that "formerly of."

Posted by Nate Patrin at June 25, 2007 9:27 AM | Comments (1)

 

Land of the tea and the home of the crepes: Welcome to Michael Mannske's nightmare (and book)

Filed under: Books

Ever wondered what would happen if the UN invaded the U.S., and France occupied the Upper Midwest? Plymouth resident Michael Mannske has. In fact, he's written a book about it—a "novel of freedom," to be precise—that's set to hit Amazon.com (he's self-publishing) on July 4th.

Inspired by "talk radio" and "history," the author explains, he has set his high-stakes thriller "in the near future," during "the coming US-UN war." Although the book is Mannske's debut, it is part two of a planned trilogy. As we join the action, the nation's president has ceded power to the UN via the "Declaration of Dependence" and the evil internationalists have invaded our shores. A rebel force of true patriots in the "Middle States" (read: Bible Belt) is doing its best to repel the foreign intruders.

Sadly, Minnesota, just a little east of center, is a French protectorate.

"I'm trying to ask a lot of questions," Mannske says, explaining the thinking behind Foreign and Domestic: Campaign II - Battle of the Middle States. "The revolutionaries reached their tipping point at a 14 percent tax on tea. Are there still people out there like that? Where is our tipping point?"

Posted by Jonathan Kaminsky at June 22, 2007 2:28 PM | Comments (0)

 

Mike Jones: He's Saying Something

Filed under: Readings/Lectures

Mike Jones has had many jobs throughout the years—professional masseur, nude model for a local art school, fitness trainer, and body builder. Yet he is best known as the male escort who exposed his client, anti-gay Reverend Ted "Completely Heterosexual" Haggard. Today, Mike Jones can also call himself an author. In I Had to Say Something: The Art of Ted Haggard's Fall, he details his three-year sexual relationship with the religious heavy-hitter—from the timid early years to the meth-fueled end. Jones also discusses the whirlwind of media that followed, as well as how his personal life and temperament enabled him to excel in his many careers. City Pages took a moment to speak with him.

City Pages: In your memoir, you talk very frankly about your work as a male escort. After years of being private, was it difficult to write on about it in such detail?

Mike Jones: It was very emotional at times rehashing everything publicly—of course the most emotional part was my mother's death, I was very close to her. And what follows after that—mourning and figuring out who Ted Haggard was, that was difficult.

CP: After so much publicity, what do you hope to accomplish by publishing your side of the story?

MJ: The first thing you have to understand is that people just go by headlines—and I've been called quite a few things in the last few months. I felt it was important for people to get a sense of who I am. Also, I think people think I woke up one morning and decided to out Ted Haggard just to get into the spotlight. It wasn't an easy process—it was very difficult. I wanted to explain that. Also, I hope to start a discussion. The problem with religion and churches in America—when dealing with homosexual issues, they don't. They want to get rid of it as quickly as possible, and almost pretend it didn't happen. And I am saying we need to talk about it. This needs to be dealt with. If we don't, there will be many Ted Haggards down the road.

CP: In your memoir, you make it very clear that your motivations for exposing Haggard were political. Did the end results of the election discourage you? Or do you feel you had more of a positive impact than given credit for?

MJ: Here's what's interesting—I wanted to impact the Colorado vote. Did it go the way I wanted to? No, it did not. But ironically enough, I got thousands of emails and notes from around the country, "Mike thanks to you, the Democrats won." So, on one hand, I didn't get what I wanted in Colorado, but on a national level I'm given some credit for effecting the outcome of the elections.

CP: Have you become more politically active since becoming a public figure?

MJ: I don't want to say that I am more politically active. I can say something now and people will listen to me. I have a platform, which I didn't have before.

CP: It's been eight months since the fallout—do you feel that it was worth it? Do you have any regrets?

MJ: People have to understand, I had no idea how that story was going to happen. I thought he would admit to things, ask for forgiveness, and continue on. I probably would have asked for help with PR, I was not prepared at all for the onslaught—the international media, it was overwhelming.

CP: So, what's your next move, career-wise?

MJ: Well, when I exposed Ted Haggard, I exposed myself. I'm not sure what I'll do next. I'm really focused on the book tour now. At some point I probably would like to do some type of activist work—not necessarily in the gay sector, perhaps human rights in general. I'm a huge animal lover—maybe animal rights. I have this huge opportunity to make even more of a difference than before.

CP: I hear you're a Golden Girls fan—do you still watch the show?

MJ: I don't get to watch TV much anymore, but believe me if I am anywhere I do scan the channels looking for the Golden Girls. I never get tired of it! I'm a little bit like the Blanche character. The show has always had a deeper meaning for me.

See Mike Jones read Thursday, June 21 at Magers & Quinn. Free. 7:30 p.m. 3038 Hennepin Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612.822.4611.

Posted by Jessica Armbruster at June 20, 2007 12:15 PM | Comments (0)

 

A calm and bashful Ryan Adams keeps it mellow at the Cedar

Filed under: Concert Review

Ryan Adams / Cedar Cultural Center / June 18, 2007
Text by Andrea Myers | Photos by Daniel Corrigan

Ryan Adams and the Cardinals played a low-key set at the Cedar Cultural Center Monday night. At least, I think that was Ryan Adams. Unfortunately for those hoping to see the alt.country star live and in person, Adams requested that the Cedar's lights be kept painfully low, making it difficult to see his face or even where he was on the stage. Adams joked about the lighting throughout the set, peering out from behind his sunglasses and pretending to shoot at the barely-glowing spotlights above the stage.

Read more of Andrea's review and view photos by Daniel Corrigan in our gallery section!

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 19, 2007 8:39 AM | Comments (0)

 

Air Guitar Championships: AC/DC, Airness, Awesome

Filed under: Dance/Performance

If the guitar isn't actually there, does the player make a sound? Minnesotans have the opportunity to find out Saturday night when the U.S. Guitar Championships come to the Varsity Theater. No rinky-dink operation, the tour have been to places like Washington DC and New York, and will continue on to Los Angeles and Houston, culminating in the prestigious World Air Guitar Championships in Oulu, Finland. City Pages took a moment to chat with Kriston Rucker, cofounder of the U.S. Championships.

City Pages: So, how does one go about judging and air guitar competition?

Kriston Rucker: We have three criteria. First, technical ability—and that doesn't mean it has to be note for note, but it has to look like you're producing the music. Next, would be stage presence. A lot of people can perform in their bedroom, but not many can do it in front of hundreds of people—you have to be able to engage the crowd. The last is "airness" which is a sort of je ne sais quoi factor—you know it when you see it. It's the extent to which the performance transcends the imitation of an art form, and becomes an art form in and of itself.

CP: Are there any tunes that are really hard to pull off? Any that are reliably crowd-pleasers?

KR: I'd say the most hackneyed or cliché would be "Eruption" by Van Halen. A lot of songs repeat, but it really depends on what you do with the song. My favorite Motörhead's "Ace of Spades." There are also a number of AC/DC songs that are pretty solid. You have to pick songs you really like—if you're not a fan people can tell.

CP: Do you find a lot of competitors play guitar as well?

KR: Many do, but the best ones generally don't. I think it's because with real guitarists it limits what you might think to do—too much mimicry and not enough creativity.

CP: How do you feel about popular video games like Guitar Hero? Do you feel that it could bring in a new level of competitor?

KR: I think they're pretty different. Air guitar is a performance art, and Guitar Hero is just a video game. I do love the game though—I think they both tap into a similar appreciation for guitar rock.

CP: Who do you feel are going to be your big competitors at the World Championships in Finland?

KR: It varies from year to year—I'd probably say Japan, Australia, and New Zealand are big ones to beat.

Come see Minnesotans compete for the ultimate in 'airness' Saturday night at the Varsity. $12. 10:00 p.m. 1308 4th St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612.604.0222.

Posted by Jessica Armbruster at June 15, 2007 6:04 PM | Comments (0)

 

Slick Rick brings old school hip hop to a new generation at the Foundation

Filed under: Concert Review

It was fairly dark inside the Foundation, and I don't entirely trust my judgement in this particular department, but if I were to hazard a guess at the median age of the attendees at Thursday night's Slick Rick show at the Foundation, I would have to aim for roughly 30. You could be half the headliner's age and still get in to the 21+ show, and most of the people there who knew all the lyrics to "Children's Story" (more on that shortly) were closer to the kid's age than Uncle Ricky when the song first dropped in 1988.

So the overall vibe for the show was aimed in a general "old school" direction, though the specific delineation of said oldness (and schoolness) grew a bit confused over the night. A psychedelically distorted print of 1982 hip hop cinema classic Wild Style was projected on the makeshift bedsheet screens flanking the stage, but the between-sets DJ stuck to the typical '89-'96 timeframe, and Slick Rick's warmup DJ presented a chronologically-jumbled succession of '80s hits—including "King of Rock," the track where Run-DMC declare that they're "never ever old school."

Most baffling was Rick's digression near the end of his set to some sort of "old school vs. new school" beat battle, wherein 15-second snippets of hip hop tracks were played and sort of rapped along with. The new school was Unk's "Walk It Out" and Rich Boy's "Throw Some D's"; the old school was Redman's "Time 4 Sum Aksion" and House of Pain's "Jump Around" (introduced as "when Irish people met Black people"). Hearing 1992 described as "old school" is a little sobering; getting that description from a man who cut his first hit single in 1985 nearly broke my brain.

But generational confusion and the various chronological hierarchy of schools took a backseat to the show—and "The Show," and "Mona Lisa," "La Di Da Di,""Hey Young World" and a self-aware segue from "Lick the Balls" into "Teenage Love". His '90s material was touched on slightly—both tracks, interestingly enough, being OutKast-connected, via "Street Talkin'" (from 1999's comeback The Art of Storytelling) and his verse from the single version of Aquemini centerpiece "Da Art of Storytellin'" (seriously, the man's storytelling has some artistry to it). But otherwise it was mostly a referendum on his Get Fresh Crew days and The Great Adventures of Slick Rick, which is just about as good as 19-year-old (or more recent) rap albums get.

His set was quick and businesslike, and he showed his age at a couple points: when he finally came around to "Children's Story," there were a couple points where he sounded like he wasn't quite catching up to the beat. But while letting the crowd fill in half the lyrics could've wound up looking like a cop-out, it's still cool hearing those onetime children reading the story back.

Posted by Nate Patrin at June 15, 2007 3:44 PM | Comments (0)

 

Nelly Furtado finds Gwen Stefani a hard act to follow

Filed under: Concert Review

Nelly Furtado / Xcel Energy Center / June 13, 2007
Text by Geoff Cannon | Photos by Daniel Corrigan

Nelly Furtado was positioned as the pop star with a little earthiness to her; remember her first album cover, lying down in the grass with that green sweater on, underneath the 60's throwback font, looking out at us wistfully? Her Latin-ness (she's Portuguese-Canadian) and rags-to-riches bio signified realness and accessibility; she could be an around-the-way girl, whether you're from Sao Paulo or St. Louis Park.

Read the rest of Geoff Cannon's review and check out more photos by Daniel Corrigan in our gallery section!

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 15, 2007 3:03 PM | Comments (1)

 

Paul Lundgren on MN Music blogs

Filed under: Local Music

Duluth writer Paul Lundgren rounds up the Minnesota music websites at MNArtists.org., and comes up with a bunch I've never read before. But inevitably, I have some additions: While Drive 105's Homegrown is currently without a home on the air (see our May post), local-music shows continue elsewhere with Cities 97's Minnesota Music, Radio K's Off the Record, KFAI's Local Sound Department, and the Current's the Local Show. We'd also include MNVibe, TCPunk, Modern-radio.com, Musicscene.org among crucial local music forums. That said, thanks to Paul for mentioning Complicatedfun, where I hope to finally update the local-music links soon.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 15, 2007 11:49 AM | Comments (0)

 

Last show at the Church

Filed under: Local Music

A legendary yet semi-legal local music venue is about to be torn down after hosting underground shows for more than 16 years. I first went to The Church, at 26th and Chicago, to see punk bands in 1991, and was told the place had been there for years. Since then, and especially over the past ten years, I've seen multimedia performances, live painting, puppet shows, 20-piece percussion bands, noise, hip hop, and weird acts from all over the world in this deconsecrated house of worship. Now, according to this TCPunk thread, the hospital has bought the property, and the building is slated to be razed. Saturday is the last show, with Skoal Kodiak, Noise Queen Ant, Last Legs, Hot Tony, Ghostface Cow, Panoramic Handcrank Painting Machine, and Shahs. Jason Wade, of Faggot, emails about tonight's show: "DON'T MISS THIS HISTORIC OCCASION! This Friday you have the opportunity to be a part of a truly historic event in the underground Minneapolis scene. The Church, a milestone in the underground music scene for over a decade is going to be closing it's doors for good after this weekend! This is your LAST CHANCE to party and enjoy one of Minneapolis' most beloved DIY venues. LET's get together and go fucking nuts and FUCK! Send this place off right! EVERYBODY'S getting laid tonight! FRIDAY, JUNE 15th: THIEVES, FAGGOT, DIRTYARD, SLOVEN, MALEDICERE, DAUGHTERS OF THE SUN, 10PM, $5 (benefit for the Hard Times Cafe) THE CHURCH." UPDATES: More discussion at MNSpeak and Modern Radio; the property's tax info.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 15, 2007 11:14 AM | Comments (3)

 

It's Only a Movie?

Filed under: Film

Cutting to the Heart of Horror with Professor Adam Lowenstein

Speaking on behalf of decent society, a recent IMDB message-poster sketched the basic terms of the so-called torture porn debate in his Hostel Part II-inspired headline: "What is happening to us?"

As you may know, the latest Splat Pack sequel's many horrors include that of a geeky young woman being hung upside down naked and ritually tortured to death with long knives. Scary times, these. No surprise that the online moralist—who imagined karma catching up with writer-director Eli Roth—was severely beaten in a virtual torrent of fanboy deathblows.

Whatever is "happening to us," horror is unmistakably the genre du jour—this despite the fact that Part II's sixth-place showing at the box-office last weekend compelled commentators to proclaim, many with glee, the genre's violent demise. Hasty (and brutal) judgments abound, but horror scholar Adam Lowenstein, an associate professor of English and film at the University of Pittsburgh, prefers to take his time with this frenzied genre, arguing that it's "still too soon" to determine whether the Splat Pack films engage the "post-9/11 moment" as meaningfully as the classic American shockers of the '70s—The Last House on the Left, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, et al.—addressed the Vietnam War and other atrocities of their era.

On Sunday at the Museum of the Moving Image in New York, Lowenstein will join critics Nathan Lee, Maitland McDonagh, and Joshua Rothkopf in a panel discussion of horror, moderated by the museum's assistant curator Livia Bloom and held as part of "It's Only a Movie: Horror Films From the 1970s to Today." Organized by Bloom, this ingeniously timed and sprawling (or splattering?) retrospective includes some 30-odd shorts and features, beginning on Saturday with The American Nightmare, director Adam Simon's brilliant documentary about the blood ties of '70s horror and history, in which Lowenstein appears as a forceful talking head.

On the eve of the MoMI series and the release of the Hostel sequel, Lowenstein was gracious enough to talk at length about horror and the myriad issues it raises. By way of extending the discussion further, the professor and I welcome your comments—even, uh, the brutal ones.

City Pages: Your book Shocking Representation [published in 2005] ends in the aftermath of 9/11. Would you agree that, after 9/11, if not the 2000 presidential election, American horror fans were correct to have seen the new wave of horror coming?

Adam Lowenstein: If you look back over the entire history of horror, you find many examples of how horror breeds during times of social crisis, how it breeds in a particularly powerful way. The films of the Weimar era of German cinema, for example, can certainly be read as responses to World War I. But at the same time, I would never want to make the claim that it's only during these times of historical trauma that horror exists—because horror never really goes away. There are times when the genre is more under the radar or less under the radar, but horror itself, as a genre, is pretty much constant. It may well be that moments of social crisis act not just to induce films to get made, but to cause us to pay particular attention to the genre. I wouldn't want to make it a strict cause-and-effect relationship: "We need 9/11 in order to have a wave of horror films," that sort of thing. But there's certainly a powerful connection between the mood of the new films and the mood of the nation. And I think that kind of connection is one that only becomes crystal clear over the course of time. In a lot of ways, I think it's still too soon to evaluate comprehensively whether these films of the post-9/11 moment are digging into their context of social crisis as deeply as the films of the Vietnam War era did.

CP: I imagine you're looking at the new films. What do you make of them tentatively?

Lowenstein: I'm very intrigued by them. My general sense is that the new films may not strike us as being quite so powerfully tied to their historical moment as films like Night of the Living Dead, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and The Last House on the Left were tied to theirs. But the important thing to remember is that critics of the [late '60s and early '70s] didn't think those films were powerfully tied to their historical moment either.

CP: In Shocking Representation, you illustrate that point by looking at the initial reaction to Night of the Living Dead.

Lowenstein: Yes. I think of that film as a crucial benchmark in this kind of discussion. [Director George] Romero himself resisted for many years the idea of reading the film as any kind of social or political allegory, and of reading Ben, the African American protagonist, as a kind of stand-in for Martin Luther King. Romero had written, shot, and completed the film before King's assassination. But certainly the film gained critical attention after King's assassination, and after the film was paired in double-features with a slavery drama by Herbert Biberman called Slaves. It wasn't until two years after its initial release that Night of the Living Dead had gained the kind of critical reputation that we associate with the film today.

CP: Joe Dante [director of The Howling and Homecoming] doesn't hesitate to call the new films "Abu Ghraib movies."

Lowenstein: I wouldn't buy that right off the bat. But at the same time, I hold open the possibility that, 10 or 15 years from now, these movies absolutely will look like Abu Ghraib movies. I really am a firm believer in the notion that the meaning we make of films is a kind of negotiation between the intentions of the filmmaker, the interpretations of critics and audiences, and the influence of history. Reading Night of the Living Dead as a film that's powerfully related to its moment during the Vietnam War is an absolutely correct reading of the film. The fact that this reading wasn't available to the filmmakers or the audience during its initial release doesn't make that reading any less valid.

CP: It seems to me that the global market is one of the things that makes the new films very different from the '70s films. In a global context, Hostel, for example, becomes particularly rich—in commercial terms, certainly, but also in thematic terms, because of how it's interpreted differently abroad. Eli Roth says that in Slovakia, Hostel plays as a comedy, which makes sense: "Our" fear of "their" loathing would naturally play for laughs outside America. Here, the film seems to play more as horror—but of course it's the exact same movie. It's almost as though the new films are forced to take a broader, more inclusive view because of their commercial responsibility as exports, so that, in the best cases, like Hostel, they end up adopting these other layers of meaning as well.

Lowenstein: I think this is a really interesting angle to pursue. In addition to Hostel, you could look at the American remake of The Grudge, which defies the general trend of American remakes by retaining the original film's Japanese setting and using that setting very interestingly. I think a number of the new films suggest that the rest of the world doesn't appreciate America in the way that Americans had assumed—certainly not in the way that the American characters in the films assume when they go off to Europe and treat it as their playground until it turns out to be their torture chamber. The new films are plugged into a different sense in America of what is "safe" and "unsafe," of what counts as "home" and what counts as "abroad." They tap into the dawning sense that our place in the world is not as secure as we had hoped and assumed it would be. America, of course, is not the center of the world—and neither is America the center of horror. I'm happy to see that the [MoMI] series is including films from Italy and France and Japan and Korea. But the series does place the American films at the center of the map—and I think there are other ways to draw the map.

CP: What are some of the ways you'd draw it?

Lowenstein: Well, the explosion of horror in Asia is quite significant—more so than the series allows by including only The Host [from South Korea] and Ichi the Killer [from Japan]. The Host is interesting in relation to the SARS outbreak in Asia as well as the presence of U.S. forces in Korea over many decades, and what that presence has meant for democratization in that country. In terms of the Japanese films, I think it's unfortunate that Kiyoshi Kurosawa—one of the best directors working in any genre, in any country—doesn't have a film in the series. A single series can never cover everything, I guess. But Japan is important. There, the golden age of horror—with films such as The Ring, [Kurosawa's] Pulse, The Grudge, and Audition—came after a severe economic downturn in the early '90s, a period of great self-questioning in Japan, one not dissimilar from the Vietnam War and post-9/11 periods in America.

CP: And how about the export of the films? What do you make of that?

Lowenstein: I think The Ring is especially intriguing in that connection, because it's basically about a media virus—one that spreads from person to person and country to country through the media. Whether it's the Japanese Ring or the American remake, the film is not only about media virus, but, in a certain way, it is a virus!

CP: I don't know whether the extreme self-consciousness of the new American films makes them more valuable as exports, but it certainly sets them apart from the American films of the '70s. Where Romero, as you say, resisted a political reading of his film in '68, Eli Roth and Rob Zombie are calculating the reactions to their movies very carefully before they shoot a single frame. Do you see that as having a significant bearing on the films and what they mean?

Lowenstein: Sure, yes. Like any genre, horror has evolved. It has gotten leaner and meaner—and smarter, too, in some ways. What strikes me about the films of Eli Roth and Rob Zombie—and I'll say this with the caveat that they're both young directors and have a lot of films ahead of them, so it's a little premature to pass judgment right now—is that they're so confidently styled. With only a few films under their belt, these directors really know their way around the genre—and their way around film technique—in an impressive way. The question is: To what end? With Roth, I see a genuine progression from Cabin Fever [2003] to Hostel [2006]. I like both of those films, but Cabin Fever seems much more locked in certain ways—locked into a sort of winking, merely clever relationship to Last House and Texas Chain Saw—whereas Hostel seems more able to engage its own set of concerns. Rob Zombie's films, though, seem stuck in adoration.

CP: His new film is a remake of Halloween.

Lowenstein: Right—and that doesn't exactly fill me with excitement. Still, I think it's important not to rush to judgment and say that, for example, Rob Zombie is nothing like Wes Craven because Craven and other directors of the '70s were "originals." What people forget is that Night of the Living Dead is full of references to Hitchcock's The Birds and to Richard Matheson's [1954 novel] I Am Legend. You look at Texas Chain Saw and see its great dependence on Psycho—and you look at Psycho and see its dependence on Diabolique, you know?

CP: Craven took Last House from The Virgin Spring by Ingmar Bergman and wasn't at all shy about admitting it.

Lowenstein: You can play this game all the way down the line with genre films, and that's because a crucial part of any genre film is its sense of belonging to a previous set of films. But I would agree with you that the new films seem to carry a very explicit sense of their relation to their predecessors—mostly in terms of mood, I would say. I see the new films—28 Weeks Later, Bug, [Zombie's] The Devil's Rejects, Hostel—as being principally attached to the mood of the '70s films: to a dark, nihilistic, pessimistic sense of what's out there in the world, of the possibilities of engaging the world and changing it. This is a very different mood, of course, from the mood of [Craven's] Scream, which is also very much aware of its predecessors, but in a way that's much more playful and sarcastic and ironic. The new films are allergic to irony. They're much more interested in really sticking it to their audiences, horrifying their audiences in as convincing a way as possible.

CP: You're saying that these interpretations take years to develop. Among popular critics, who respond within days or hours or even minutes of a screening of a new film, the chief concern seems to be with addressing the question of whether the films are going "too far"—whether they're in bad taste, whether they're dangerous. And the audience is certainly debating that question, too. I'll read one example—a post I found recently on the IMDB [titled "What is happening to us?"]: The writer says, "It disturbs me that people can find a way to defend these torture porn movies, which just make me very sad for where we've gone as a society." That sort of moral questioning of horror among viewers certainly isn't new, would you say?

Lowenstein: It's not new, no. And I do see that kind of reaction as being important and worth taking seriously. But the fact of the matter is that horror has always oscillated between what I think of as "quiet horror" and "loud horror," and those terms change over time. Take Hitchcock's Psycho. Today we think of that film as being subtle, psychological, non-graphic—disturbing, yes, but quiet. At the time of its release, though, Psycho was an extremely loud horror film, with graphic presentations of the body—and the bathroom—that had never been seen on American movie screens before. In 1960, the assault of that film was very much a visceral one—to the point where stories were written about the phenomenon of viewers being unable to take showers for weeks after seeing the film. So I think the [new] films that are so offensive to certain people today will not feel the same way to those people in time. Now, this is certainly not to say that we shouldn't care about the level of violence in films and about what it means, about what the films do to us. But my sense is that the most important thing is not to bemoan the relative level of violence in these films, but rather to think about whether we have the tools to analyze and historicize what this violence is all about. What I'm scared of is the sense that we're losing the ability to analyze what's happening in the films and in the culture.

CP: Which is partly a product of the new immediacy of communication?

Lowenstein: Absolutely. The environment in general is one in which there's so much more emphasis on the mobile, the instantaneous, and the easily digested, and so much less effort put into more long-term, thought-out, ambiguous, ambivalent discussions of things that don't have yes and no answers. That's really part of the core issue here. The [interpretive] work on these films is absolutely worth doing, but horror often gets short shrift in that regard. People say, "Well, it's just a monster movie, and we all know we don't really have to think about things like that." But of course we should.

CP: I'm reminded of your comments in The American Nightmare, where you talk about the experience of watching the key horror films as being one of constant vacillation between pleasure and disgust, between satisfaction and self-loathing. Why do I like this horror? What am I getting out of it?

Lowenstein: Yes. Every horror fan knows that experience, consciously or unconsciously—particularly any horror fan who has to answer to friends and relatives and spouses who say, "Why do you want to watch this stuff?" It's an eternal question. Part of the reason you want to watch is pleasure, and part of it is revulsion; part of it is the pleasure in the revulsion, and part of it is the revulsion in the pleasure. It's a really complicated set of responses, one that I think is not often appreciated.

CP: And not often reducible to thumb-pointing.

Lowenstein: No, not at all. And not reducible either to snap judgments of responsibility—"This is a film that handles violence responsibly" and "This is a film that handles violence irresponsibly." It's just not that easy. I wish it were that easy in certain ways, but it would make for bad, boring art. Perhaps it would make for a safer sense of the public sphere, but that sense would be illusory, too. If we don't wrestle with these ambiguities and ambivalences, both within the films and within our reactions to the films, then we risk losing our sensitivity to the world around us. I really believe that.

CP: I'm a horror fan, so this is a devil's advocate kind of question, but here it is: How do you make the case for horror to friends and family? When you're really forced to defend your fascination with this stuff, do you say, "Well, it's about the pleasure in the revulsion and the revulsion in the pleasure"?

Lowenstein: There are a couple of different ways I can go at it. One thing I like to do is to tell a story about David Cronenberg, who's one of my favorite filmmakers. Cronenberg's career has certainly changed a great deal since the '70s. But in the early days, a common thing that would happen to him is that interviewers would go to meet him, and the first thing they'd say to him is, "Wow, you're not at all what I expected." What they expected, of course, was based on the films: They expected a drooling psychopath, and instead they meet this very kind and thoughtful man—and so they experience this kind of disconnect. What Cronenberg would say is: "The movies look like that so I can look like this." I think there's something to that.

CP: That's funny.

Lowenstein: Another way of going at it: I just taught a horror film course to undergraduates this past semester, and it overlapped with the Virginia Tech massacre. My students were writing their final essays about films like Texas Chain Saw at the same time that they're hearing this horrifying news about students just like them. What came out of our discussions was a sense that engaging these films in an intellectual way had given them tools to deal with a real-life event that was inexplicable and overwhelming. That felt very hopeful to me. The reaction wasn't, "How dare you make me watch these horrible things [onscreen] when they're really happening in the world?" Instead, there seemed to be a sense that the tools gained by wrestling with these films are tools that can be used to wrestle with the tragic events in the world we live in.

CP: When I talked to Roth recently, he said he holds hope in the fact that soldiers in Iraq have thanked him for Hostel, for giving them "tools" in much the same way that you're talking about. A word like catharsis seems insufficient to describe the effect that you and Roth are talking about.

Lowenstein: I agree with you. I think that catharsis is among the least valuable assets that one could gain from a horror film. Because catharsis is really all about...

CP: Closure, right?

Lowenstein: Closure, yes. And forgetting—"getting over" something. What these horror films remind us, of course, is that the trauma is never really over—that we haven't remembered it enough before we can forget it. I think the real value of the horror film is to remind us that catharsis is too easy, too artificial, and too closed. We know from history that the events we think we've passed through and gotten over and understood come back to haunt us in all kinds of ways. Horror's dark gift is to remind us that the tragic events we think we've gotten over and understood always come back to haunt us. And that's an incredibly valuable gift. I share Eli Roth's sense about this. I find these films to be incredibly optimistic even in their darkest, cruelest moments. What the films share is a sense that it's still worth communicating with an audience: It's still worth getting a point across, still worth making someone feel a certain discomfort; it's worth having that kind of commitment and confidence. There's hope that comes with that—a hope that things can get better.

Posted by Rob Nelson at June 12, 2007 12:55 PM | Comments (3)

 

CD Review: Super Cool California Soul 2

Filed under: CD Review

Various Artists / Super Cool California Soul 2: Raw and Rare Soul from
the West Coast 1966-1982 / Ubiquity

Text by Dave Segal

In the '60s and '70s, nearly every major American city-and many minor ones-had thriving funk and soul scenes. And if they didn't have hotbeds, then these towns at least produced a handful of acts that could convincingly approximate the special sonic sauce of James Brown or the Meters. So it's unsurprising to discover that the state of California has warehouses full of obscure 45s that have been and are still being excavated for insatiable collectors and aficionados. In the past decade, Costa Mesa's Ubiquity Records has been among the foremost curators of soul and funk musicians who somehow slipped under radio's and print media's radars. Case in point is the Super Cool California Soul series. While this second volume boasts nobody with the marquee luster of such Golden State stars as Sly and the Family Stone or War, this 16-track disc radiates enough soular power to warm the coolest hipster's constricted heart.

Super Cool California Soul 2 delves deep for its riches. The dominant sound is a mellow, sensual glow and throb that falls somewhere between the Stax label's sinewy rhythmic punch and melodic finesse and Cadet Records' trippy, orchestral soul excursions. Gow Dow Experience light a sexy fire under the standard "Compared to What"-twice; Joey Jefferson Band's clavinet-and-vibes-enhanced "Revolution Rap" subverts its title with slyly seductive, loungey funkadelia; Spanky Wilson's adorable "Fancy" recalls Dusty Springfield's inspirational Memphis soul, melding gospel with estrus; LAPD (heh) find the golden mean between bliss and menace on the soul/jazz mood-elevator "Big Herm"; Darondo's silky sweet "Such a Night" is a slow romancer; and Rodney Trotter's "Space Nigga" disrupts the earthy flow with the compilation's nuttiest track, featuring Bernie Worrell-esque synth spritzes, helium-voiced alien chatter and strident piano vamping. These songs have aged remarkably well while still retaining their period charms.

Text by Dave Segal

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 11, 2007 3:39 PM | Comments (0)

 

Hula-hoop dreams

Filed under: Pop Culture

Young participants in this Saturday's hula-hoop contest at the Juneteenth Festival in Theodore Wirth Park might be unaware that Saturday, July 7 is World Hoop Day. Twirling hoops around your body is nothing new, of course: The practice predates Wham-O's introduction of the plastic hula-hoop in 1958 by thousands of years. But full-body hooping as an adult pastime has only recently enjoyed a vogue among urban grown-ups. Last week, a dozen or so adult hoopsters gathered at Celebration Hall in Minneapolis to hoop under black lights, with a DJ spinning music.

"Kids grow out of it because it's mostly waist-hooping and neck-hooping," says Jessica Reiter, who helped organize the event, and has taught hooping in Minneapolis for the past year. "With a plastic hoop, it can be repetitive. But we make our own hoops—heavier and larger, so they're nice and big and slow." She says the new hooping is a mix between a massage, dance, and circus acrobatics. (Call it hoop hop.) Anyone interested in joining the emerging hoopoisie should visit Reiter's website at www.harmonyhoops.com, or tribes.tribe.net/mnhoopers.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 11, 2007 2:35 PM | Comments (0)

 

Doo-wops and teenie-bops at the Entry

Filed under: Concert Review

The Pipettes with Smoosh / 7th St. Entry / June 8, 2007
Text by Steve McPherson | Photos by Daniel Corrigan

In true old school girl-group fashion, The Pipettes' band, The Cassettes (clad in T-shirts and sweater vests with sloppy monograms), come out first. The group's Phil Spector, guitarist Monster Bobby, triggers a sampled intro and onto the stage bound, according to their theme song, "the prettiest girls you've ever met." Check.

Read the rest of Steve's review and view photos by Daniel Corrigan in our gallery section!

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 11, 2007 9:50 AM | Comments (0)

 

F*ck the Police: 3 Minute Hero reunites!

Filed under: Local Nightlife

After a seven-year absence, skankin' rockers 3 Minute Hero are reuniting for a couple of shows in Minneapolis this weekend. (Dear readers in St. Peter, MN, can catch a preview tonight at Patrick's on 3rd.) Formed in Fargo in 1995, the eight-piece band was a popular fixture on the Minneapolis scene, releasing three CDs before folding in 2000. 3 Minute Hero's chanteur, the Reverend Colonel J.R. Nelson, tells City Pages all the major players are going be back, including current members of Go Jimmy Go, Rasputina, and the Secondhand Ska Kings. Show highlights will include the opening of a 1997 time capsule, and we can only hope, a rousing rendition of their smash hit "We're So Happy! (We're Going to Pee in Your Pants!)" 3 Minute Hero will be playing Bunkers on Friday, June 8, and the Fine Line Music Café on Saturday, June 9.

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 7, 2007 11:01 AM | Comments (1)

 

Gwen Stefani and teenage army conquer St. Paul

Filed under: Concert Review

Gwen Stefani / Xcel Energy Center / June 5, 2007
Text by Geoff Cannon | Photos by Daniel Corrigan

Whatever you think of it, give Gwen Stefani credit for building a totally unique aesthetic. Imagine a Venn diagram of Thrasher magazine, William Gibson's Idoru, an aerobics class, and the dream you had of Cyndi Lauper joining Salt-N-Pepa, and you're close. Stefani and her crack team of dancers and musicians brought it all to life tonight at the Xcel to a near-capacity crowd that was 10-1 female with an average age around 16.

Read the rest of Geoff Cannon's review and check out more photos by Daniel Corrigan in our gallery section!

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 6, 2007 10:08 AM | Comments (0)

 

Daniel Corrigan shows his best music photos

Filed under: Local Music

Rock photo fans take note: the exhibit Daniel Corrigan Music Photography: The Analog Years opens Thusday, June 7 at the Mill City Museum and runs through September 30--a bonus for anyone who missed the photographer's one-day exhibition of classic '80s photos last year, or who wants to see an expanded version. Corrigan shot the cover of the Replacements' Let It Be (more here and here), and otherwise documented the Twin Cities music scene from 1980 onwards. He'll speak at the June 7 opening, which starts at 6:00 p.m., and kicks off the museum's free outdoor live music series with acoustic blues and folk group the Brass Kings (plus a cash bar and food).

Also: Former CPer Mary O'Regan interviews Corrigan in the Downtown Journal

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 4, 2007 1:13 PM | Comments (3)

 

Battle of the Underage Underground: The kids are alright

Filed under: Concert Review

Battle of the Underage Underground / First Avenue / June 3, 2007
Text by Christopher Matthew Jensen | Photos by Daniel Corrigan

An annual event boasting some of the best high school-aged talent in the metro, Radio K's Battle of the Underage Underground gave seven musical acts a chance to take First Avenue's Mainroom by hellstorm in front of a mostly exuberant crowd comprised of guestlisted boosters, and a panel of musicians, critics and Radio K staffers.

The characteristically wild Brother and Sister (Michael and Katie Gaughan) hosted the evening's festivities, announcing each band and helping to keep the show's momentum as First Avenue's crack stage crew had each band on within ten minutes of each other.

Battling it out for prizes that included a $2000 recording contract with local label Say Rah Records for the winning band, each act was allotted a fifteen minute window of stage time to win over the audience and wow the judges.

Third place finisher Nap Nap destroyed the crowd with an hellacious performance of knob-twiddling rock curdled by dissonant noise and fueled by youthful spontaneity. Each band member switched instruments multiple times throughout the set, a feat that only contributed to their already unpredictable sound.

Angel Darcourt, the evening's lone hip-hop entry placed second overall with an enigmatic showing of socially conscious bi-lingual hip-hop and spoken word. Flanked by a couple of smooth voiced backup singers the young MC spat out smart rhymes over the booming production of Benzilla and the St. Paul Kings.

In the end, it was the colossal wallop of Rivet's retro 80's brand metal that won the judges over. Sounding something like early Metallica (and very much looking the part), Rivet rocked harder than any other act on the bill. Both guitarists threw down with fret melting solos, and all four members thrashed like their necks were made of rubber.

Text by Christopher Matthew Jensen | Photos by Daniel Corrigan

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 4, 2007 9:27 AM | Comments (7)

 

Brother Ali, you got any hand grenades?

Filed under: Local Music

During the first month of Brother Ali's 2007 U.S. tour, road manager Randy Hawkins somehow kept graffiti taggers away from the Minneapolis rapper's trailer--that is, until the first spray paint appeared in Charlottesville a few weeks ago. "Since then, it's been tagged about 8,000 times," says Hawkins, speaking last Friday via cell phone from somewhere between San Luis Obispo and San Francisco. "It looks like I parked in New York for a week." Fans hoping to make their mark might not realize the downside of a graffiti-covered trailer hitched to a shiny silver Ford van: vehicular profiling. Twice in May, the Rhymesayers have been pulled over by authorities: once in Texas, where police were looking for stolen band equipment; once by an unmarked squad car in Mississippi. In the latter incident, Brother Ali and friends were asked whether the trailer contained rocket launchers, grenades, machine guns, cocaine, or marijuana. They said no, and the police declined to search the trailer after getting permission to do so.

Ali's tour winds up June 8 and 9 at First Avenue, but if you miss that, he returns to the venue July 31 and August 1 as part of the touring Paid Dues Independent Hip-Hop Festival, which also features Felt, Living Legends, and others. On that tour, the rappers will dispense with the van and trailer to use a bus.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at June 1, 2007 2:54 PM | Comments (0)

 

3 Questions: Cesar "The Dog Whisperer" Millan

Filed under: 3 Questions

If you've been to a dog park recently, chances are you've noticed a bizarre trend among pup owners: They've taken to calling themselves "pack leaders" and admonishing their charges' bad behavior with an air compressor-like "tsst" noise. Thank Cesar Millan, a.k.a. "The Dog Whisperer," for this development. No really, thank him: Through his much-loved National Geographic Channel show The Dog Whisperer, Millan—pet trainer to the stars and founder of L.A.'s the Dog Psychology Center—has done more for problematic pet behavior than a landfill of choke collars (which he disavows in favor of exercise and assertive leadership). Millan is in the Twin Cities filming new episodes, and he appears tomorrow at PETCO in Maplewood for a question-and-answer session. He was kind enough to answer CP's questions in advance.

City Pages: Were you born with an innate understanding of animal behavior, or is it the result of years of rigorous training?

Cesar Millan: I have a lifetime of experience working with thousands of dogs. My training comes from being around animals my whole life, learning from my grandfather at a young age how not to work against Mother Nature. I have worked with literally thousands of dogs. My methods achieve results, but as you will see me say in the show, it is up to the owners to make it a success in the long term. I guess you could also say I have an instinctual ability to relate to dogs. I understand the way dogs socially interact—I am able to understand the world from a dog's point of view. My method uses exercise, discipline, and then affection to bring balance to a dog. I practice using calm and assertive energy in working with dogs.

CP: Have you ever met a dog you couldn't control?

CM: Very rarely. Sometimes a dog actually has a neurological condition, which is very sad, and there is really nothing you can do. But 99 percent of the dogs I have encountered I have been able to rehabilitate. The number of owners I am able to train, well, that is a different story.

CP: I can't go to the dog park anymore without hearing someone doing that "tsst" thing. Does it work on other animals as well? What about noisy neighbors? Unruly children?

CM: It's funny that you ask. People actually ask me this all the time. I have even had wives say they use it on their husbands. But for me, it is what works on the dog world.

The Dog Whisperer airs Friday nights at 7:00 p.m. on the National Geographic Channel. Cesar Millan appears Saturday, June 2, at PETCO. Free. 1:00 p.m. 7040 Valley Creek Plaza, Woodbury; 651.739.9122.

Posted by Chuck Terhark at June 1, 2007 11:26 AM | Comments (20)

 

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