March 2, 2008 - March 8, 2008

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Storytelling all weekend long

This weekend there's nary a reason to go without sweet storytelling love--let's run down the schedule of spoken-word entertainment.

Rockstar Storytellers, who're getting to be a Bryant-Lake Bowl institution, take stage tomorrow at 10 with a program of stories on that most tumultuous of subjects, religion. The Rockstars, as a group, sport a polished, radio-style storytelling, dripping with coffee-and-cigarette-soaked hipster irony--a reflection of their backgrounds doing Fringe, non-storytelling spoken word, and in some cases, radio itself.

Saturday tune in to KFAI's celebration of International Women's Day, in which several local tellers will be participating. Especially interesting is a segment at 4pm called "My War: From Bismarck to Britain and Back," a performance piece by three local women, Dorothy Cleveland, Ann Reay and Sara Boyle Trautner, inspired and constructed from 79 letters written home by a woman who served in the Red Cross during WWII as well as her mother's private war diary.

That evening, Java Jack's and Northstar Storytelling League hold their monthly performance-and-open-mic combo. This Saturday's event calls on not the usual three, but five performers chosen by host Dave Schaal, telling their own versions of the American Dream. The night serves as a preview of the League's upcoming celebration of World Storytelling Day on the 22nd.

Finally on Sunday swing back to Bryant-Lake Bowl for Dave Mondy and friends' newest project, Radio All Stars. The premise is a bit like Prairie Home Companion modernized--a radio variety show, complete with storytelling, quizzes, and radio plays, recorded live on-stage. But instead of Guy's All Star Shoe Band, there'll be a live DJ and local musicians; instead of Tom Keith on sound effects, a laptop provides the audio accouterments--and if you can't make it, head to the group's website afterwards to listen in on the podcast version.

Posted by Ward Rubrecht at March 6, 2008 6:05 PM | Comments (0)

 

Bechdel Exam

Filed under: 3 Questions

Cartoonist Alison Bechdel discusses local businesses, coming up with ideas, and drawing memoirs.

CP: In the PR I received for your upcoming talk, a friend of yours states that it's always funny when somebody at a party says something then it shows up in one of your strips. How much of Dykes to Watch Out For comes from your daily life?

AB: You know, it's hard to say. In some ways, it totally doesn't come from my daily life. It's not at all autobiographical; I don't know these people, I make it all up. But the details of their lives, the texture of their lives, are just like my life. Their furniture, their computers, the co-op where they shop, the things they're reading; that is stuff is all in a way autobiographical. I feel like I'm sort of writing fiction and nonfiction at the same time. It's very much about the real world as I know it and the progressive leftist culture that I live in. Yet it's also completely made up out of my head.

CP: The bookstore in your strip, Madwimmin Books, is based on the Amazon Book Co-op in Minneapolis, which is now for sale. In your strip, a popular national chain buys out Madwimmin. Do you see a similar fate for Amazon?

AB: Well, I mean, I did close down the bookstore in my comic strip because that was what was happening to dozens of these stores all over the country. Although it was a sad thing to do, I felt like I needed to reflect the reality of what was going on. Amazon is one of the last holdouts. It's tough. I hope they'll make it.

CP: What do you think locally owned feminist bookstores offer that other bookstores don't?

AB: Oh god, soul, service, heart, and literacy! I mean, the whole culture is going to hell in a hand basket and the bookstores are just like an index of it. It's happening everywhere. There are fewer and fewer independent stores of any kind.

CP: Your graphic memoir, Fun Home, is very candid about your childhood, including your father's apparent suicide by stepping in front of a truck. Writing a memoir always involves confronting memories, but did you find it more difficult since you had to not only write about sad memories, but also draw them out?

AB: There were difficult moments certainly. I was doing crazy things; I went to the very spot where my dad was hit on the highway. I thought I was just going there to take reference shots to see what it looked like, but it was a very emotionally intense experience. Also, I posed as all the characters to do reference shots because I'm just not that good of a drawer. At one point I was impersonating my dead father in the casket, and I put on a jacket and tie and crossed my hands over my chest just to get it exactly right. That's insane, you know? Like, oh, my god, I'm my dead father. There were two levels going on. One was this very workaday, practical level. There was a lot of physical labor just of drawing and sketching and doing all the production of the book, which was kind of distracting from the emotional intensity of it. The emotional intensity of it was there, but it was like two parallel tracks.

CP: Your books are very well received, especially Fun Home, which Time named best book of the year in 2006. Do you plan on writing novels or other books without drawings?

AB:No, I don't. I just don't think I could do that. My whole writing process is very bound up with images. I can hardly think without visuals, that's kind of how I get from one point to another. Occasionally, I do have to write prose, but it's so arduous and difficult for me. I would just rather draw.

CP: So, when you're constructing the strip, do you start with the drawing or with the words?

AB: I start with the dialogue, but when I write, I'm using Adobe Illustrator. So even though I'm typing words, I'm thinking visually. I have my panels mapped out like a storyboard, and in my head I'm visualizing who the people are, where they are, and all that stuff. But I have to get it written before I start sketching.

CP: The town Marshall, Missouri came very close to banning Fun Home in 2006. At the time you said that you considered it an honor to be considered for banning. Tell me a little bit about that.

AB: Well, only because so many great books have been banned. I think it's an indicator that a text has an impact if people are going to the trouble to keep other people away from it. That's kind of flattering in a way. But of course it was disturbing and terrible, and people shouldn't censor the book. They didn't which was great.

CP: Have you encountered other places trying to ban your books?

AB: No, because I think mostly my Dykes to Watch Out For books aren't in small town public libraries. It hasn't really been an issue. I mean, I know they certainly are in some. They're in libraries here in Vermont, for example. But Fun Home just got more recognition and people saw it in a way that they didn't see Dykes.

CP: DTWOF seems to alternate politics, humor, and drama in every panel. Do you see it as one more than other? Is it more of a political cartoon or more of a soap opera, or an amusing comic?

AB:I feel like it is kind of like Doonsbury, only the opposite. Doonsbury is a political cartoon that uses a soap opera format. In my strip the emphasis is more on the soap opera side; the characters' intimate domestic lives. But it's still important to me to have current events and politics woven in, but it's a different balance than in Doonsbury.

CP: You've been writing the same characters now for many years. But your strip is not like *BR Garfield or some other comic that can just recycle the same punch lines over and over again. How do you keep coming up with storylines and jokes for them?

AB: Oh, my god, it's an endlessly escalating challenge! Every week the bar is higher because I can't repeat anything I've already done. It's an interesting form in that way, a long running serial work, it has to keep changing but it can't change too much because then it loses its audience. So, I'm always walking this tightrope between trying to keep it fresh and trying to do what I always do.

CP: How much longer do you think you'll be able to keep going then?

AB: I don't know. You know people like Bill Watterson (Calvin and Hobbes) and Gary Larson (Far Side) burnt out. But that was because--in Watterson's case--his strip didn't unfold in real time. Calvin was always 6 years old, and of course you couldn't keep that up forever unless it got really crappy. With Gary Larson, the format that he worked in was incredibly constraining. How long can you possibly keep coming up with brilliant one-line gag strips? Dan Piraro, author of Bizarro does it, I don't know how, but he does it. I feel like I have so many sources to draw on that I'm able to fuel it better. Current events are always changing, the characters live in real time so they're always aging and going through these life passages, and there is always something new to grapple with.

See Alison Bechdel speak tonight at the Humphrey Institute. Call 612.625.9436 for more information. Free. 7 p.m. 301 19th Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612.625.9436.

Posted by Ben Palosaari at March 6, 2008 3:42 PM | Comments (0)

 

McKay Hatch: Cursing Crusader!

Finally! A club that makes the chess club look like ultimate playas.

South Pasadena, Calif. has declared the first week of March 'No More Cussing Week'. Yep. No more cursing. High schooler McKay Hatch put the town (population 25,824) up the antics by starting the No Cussing Club at school. According to the AP, McKay told his pals he didn't want to swear anymore, and if they wanted to be his friend, they had to give it up too. Free speech vs. being besties with McKay Hatch. What a dilemma. After consideration, about 50 students joined the club and gave up four-letter words for McKay's friendship. Um, I'm not sure, but I'm guessing that after the jocks, bullies, and potential prom dates catch wind of the crew's members, his ranks might dwindle. And then he'll be pretty damn lonely. DAMN. Oh, that feels good. Sorry, McKay.

Posted by Ben Palosaari at March 6, 2008 12:29 PM | Comments (7)

 

Strip Club: cheeky or offensive?

Filed under: Food

So far, at least, there's only been one incident of confusion regarding the name of the new restaurant, Strip Club, in St. Paul. Co-owner Tim Niver told me that one day two guys walked in with dollar bills in their hands and asked, "Where's the other room?" (The guys, likely non-native English speakers, apparently didn't realize the name is a pun on strip steak. Neither did my friend's fourth-grade son, who, when his father felt compelled to explain what strip steaks and strip clubs were, responded, "Why would anyone want to see somebody take their clothes off? That's gross.")

Niver says they chose the name because they thought it was funny and memorable and that, so far, only one neighbor has raised concerns about the name's appropriateness, citing concerns about the area's troubles with prostitution. We've seen this question raised in the past regarding Chino Latino's ad campaigns: Where's the line between cheeky and offensive?

Those who find the name in poor taste should at least be happy to know that googling "Strip Club" with "St. Paul" now brings up only mentions of the restaurant on the first page, which certainly wasn't the case when I tried that a month ago.

Posted by Rachel Hutton at March 5, 2008 11:14 AM | Comments (6)

 

Reporter's Notebook: Sarah Master

Filed under: Food

Barbette head chef Sarah Master (interviewed this week) had far more to say than could be contained within the puny confines of a 500-word print article.

ON THE INTOXICATING ODOR OF SEAFOOD

"When I started, I was doing a lot of Creole, fried green tomatoes, and oysters, and I worked at the frier station at my first cooking job down there. My husband used to complain that I came home smelling like oysters all the time — they call them "ersters" down there, you know, so I'd come home and he'd say: 'Oh, Erster Girl's home!'"

ON FORMER BARBETTE HEAD CHEF LANDON SCHOENEFELD'S DEPARTURE

"He wanted to open his own place. I don't know how that's coming along. He's over at Porter and Fry right now, line cooking. I think he's very creative, he's an excellent cook, and I think that this place was trying to rein him in a little bit to a certain style that he didn't really want to do. He parted on good terms. He decided that it wasn't for him, and he gave his notice, and said he would work out to the end of the year, but they decided to promote me."

ON SPOON RIVER

"Spoon River was good — it helped lead up into this. I was able to do a lot of specials there. I did the vegetarian special there, which is funny, because there aren't a lot of vegetarians in New Orleans. And everything there is really heavy. And Brenda [Langton] was always like: 'No no no no, we gotta keep it light... let's put some rice on here... brown rice on this and that...' And I was like: 'I don't even know how to cook brown rice.' She kind of reined me in a little bit, and showed me the ropes of vegetarian food."

ON THE LOCAL FOOD MOVEMENT

"I really like how most new restaurants around here now are going local. There's so many places around here where you can get great local produce. A dude dropped off a whole lamb in my kitchen today that he killed last week. That kind of stuff is really neat to me. It was hard from me when I moved up here to not get the guy knocking on the back door with a huge cooler of shrimp, saying: 'I caught these this afternoon.' But now, it's like, I've got people who are bringing me these great heirloom tomatoes. And I get to order whole lamb and break it down myself. We use Fisher Farms pork here... I'm trying to start a deal with Sylvan Hills Farm, for our produce, starting early summer and running until mid-fall, just getting produce from them. I see that shift happening here, and that's really neat. That was something they didn't really have in New Orleans, even though there were farms all over the place down there, they didn't use a lot of local produce."

Posted by James Norton at March 4, 2008 6:30 PM | Comments (0)

 

Ode to St. Paul

Filed under: Books

It's fair to say that St. Paul is often overlooked by those that dwell in Minneapolis. Though there have been some efforts to "freshen up" Lowertown, for example, those that wander around downtown St. Paul during the weekend or after 5 may be disappointed to find businesses closed for the day, empty skyscrapers, and nary a resident in sight. Yet St. Paul does have one thing that Minneapolis doesn't have. For the past two years, St. Paul has had its very own almanac.

Now in its third year, the 2009 St. Paul Almanac is in search of submissions from residents, or anyone who digs the city on the east side of the river in general. So, if you have something to say about St. Paul, now's your chance. Suggestions listed on the official site include stories on local businesses (still running or long gone), funny things you might have experienced at St. Paul festivities like the Winter Carnival, the MN State Fair, or Taste of Minnesota, your experience in St. Paul as an immigrant, or a little poem on birding around various parks. Have a St. Paul-based rant or rave? Now's your chance to get it out there without the aid of a blog. The almanac people are open to format busters as well; poems, song lyrics, creative writing, and even graphic fiction submissions are all welcome.

Intrigued? Got a story? Check out there website herehttp://www.saintpaulalmanac.com/submissions.shtml for rules and information on how to submit.

Posted by Jessica Armbruster at March 3, 2008 3:39 PM | Comments (0)

 

Old Grass, New Grass: Fish DeSmith reviews Winter Bluegrass Weekend

Filed under: Over the Weekend

Winter Bluegrass Weekend
Plymouth Radisson, Feb. 29-March 2
Review by Fish DeSmith
Photos by Ward Rubrecht

The thing to understand about the Minnesota Bluegrass and Old-Time Music Association's Winter Bluegrass Weekend is that most of the attendees, to say nothing of the performers, are there because they love to play.

It was impossible to calculate the monetary value of all the instruments assembled in the Plymouth Radisson -- basses on carts or set near walls and couches to indolently survey the passing bustle, mandolins carried uncased while the bearer picks gently over a phrase that's sure to be heard on stage later, guitars and banjos in their soft cases strapped to the backs of their troubadours. Groups gather to practice for their stage time or just jam together in nooks and crannies, or amid chairs and couches in the hotel lobby. The microphone-less singers are almost drowned out by the rest of the instruments, until some passerby pauses to pick up the thread of melody, bringing it once more to the forefront.

On the hotel's second floor, there was a row of jamming rooms, places set aside, out of everyone's way, for serious players who may or may not have bands of their own, to put some time in on their skills and to pick up new tricks from their fellows. Each could have been a convivial living room gathering of old friends, and I suspect there was at least as much music played up there along this hallway as there was in the rest of the festival, and of comparable quality. Venerable, crab-handed pickers lead groups composed of a variety of players, from their septuagenarian peers down to teenagers with guitars and mandolins. Peeking over the shoulder of a silver-haired gent with a vest full of harmonicas in different keys, one could see a room full of richly talented musicians, strangers or friends, bathed in song and the late winter sunshine.

Down in the lobby, a group of young high schoolers had gathered, with a banjo, guitar, three-quarter size bass, mandolin, and a shaggy-haired cell phone videographer. They were trying to figure out a pickin' version of Death Cab for Cutie's I Will Follow You into the Dark, the banjo player's clear tenor leading the struggling players through a good-hearted disharmony of chords and percussive instrument pounding. One couldn't help rooting for them, for stretching themselves to blend the contemporary with the traditional.

A youthful jam group tries to fuse Death Cab with bluegrass. See more photos by Ward Rubrecht.

Despite their struggles, and the struggles of many others during the day, there was only encouragement for the players. Most everyone in attendance could sympathize, remembering when they, too, fumbled the picking on a similarly tortuous run or stubbornly ran a song over and over until it clicked for them. That's not to say there wasn't sincere and ample praise of musicians, on stage and off, whose skill and dedication could make even the densest arpeggios float flawlessly off the strings.

The organized stage shows were uniformly enjoyable, but not uniform in the slightest. Varying in skill, style, traditionality, and even in electrification, the range of performers was staggering. With over 35 acts playing on Saturday, there were only so many I could fit in. I managed to see Blue Wolf, the Sans Souci Quartet, the New Bad Habits, and the Ditchlilies. I also saw Cabin Creek Pickin' warming up in a stairwell, and Namnlös, with their bowed but organesque nyckelharpa, running a few tunes in a tiny elbow-crook of a room full of pay phones.

Finishing out the day were two shows by Rustler's Moon. I saw the first, opened by the local greats, the Platte Valley Boys. Here was a reminder that all the jamming going on during the weekend, with circles morphing and reforming, does really build up to something amazing. These two acts delivered it with polish and panache. In particular, Tom Bekeny, the mandolin player for Rustler's Moon, showed the heights to which bluegrass musicians aspire during a song composed of give-and-take banjo and mandolin solos. Watching his fingerwork, I was blown away. It was like Anansi the spider god inhabited that man's pickin' hand, giving it the power to fly, contort and flourish, a spider dancing on his web, faster than I've ever seen another human being move.

After that performance, I meandered back down to the dance parlour. I was nearing the saturation point, not sure if I could distinguish between individual songs anymore. The Sans Souci Quartet's rendition of Naked Bacon Breakdown, a frenetic song of arpeggiated mayhem, was flowing into the Kathy Kallick original Coastal Fog's hopeless lamentations. I began to suspect some great jest; that these songs were all part of some larger work and I was just hearing snippets and sections amid the casual pickers and the performers on stages. Well, there's nothing to shake off paranoid musical hallucination like the toe-tapping and partner-swinging of square dancing under Dot Kent's tender tutelage, and that's how I ended my day. Tired, and now sweaty, my brain sloshing with hours of never-before-heard-by-me music, I staggered out of that oasis of admiration, collaboration, and good, clean fun.
--Fish DeSmith

Posted by Jeff Shaw at March 3, 2008 6:55 AM | Comments (1)

 

Unofficial SXSW Showcasing Bands Torrent

Filed under: SXSW

For three years in a row, the SXSW mafia would assemble a gigantic amount of free music from all the lucky little princesses chosen to play their precious festival and release it in a torrent. (A torrent is a computer thing one's iPhone-owning brother might use to gather free episodes of Weeds from the internet.) They're not doing one of their own this year, but they still have free downloads of all the music on their website and some enterprising hero assembled a torrent file from 'em. 764 bands. 3.5 GB. Check it out.

Posted by Sarah Askari at March 2, 2008 10:32 PM | Comments (0)

 

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