Showing posts with label David Lee Roth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Lee Roth. Show all posts

Monday, October 18, 2010

STEPHANIE BARBER: Eternal Dialog


Stephanie Barber makes films, writes poetry, co-curates Transmodern Festival, and teaches at MICA with whatever spare time she invents out of thin air. She currently resides in Baltimore where everyone is the better for it, as evidenced by her collusions with Theresa Columbus, Geodesic Gnome, Performance Thanatological Society, Dan Conrad & Jenny Graf and recent readings at recent literary events about town (WORMS!).


What do you do? What are you doing the most lately?


 
i make art.  film, poetry, music etc.  i talk about animals. 

mostly right now i am making videos and writing a lot. i'm interested in making a something in a certain medium which manages to sidestep the concerns of that medium--or like a plain cardboard box might begin to sprout wings and armadillo shells, prehensile tails and the goofy smiles of human children with down's syndromes--so a film can be considered as a poem and a song can be considered as a film and a poem can be considered a cross country ski competition and hopefully the best pieces can be considered just pieces of art.  

Lawn Poem installation by Stephanie Barber at The Poor Farm

How long have you done these things? How have the things changed?
 
i have always been writing and for half of my life i have been making films and very recently i have been making videos. my music making is sporadic and unfocused but like a miracle when i wind up inside of a musical project.  the most enjoyable.
things have changed in that i am working within myself right now in a very particular way.  i mean that i am pushing against my own ideas and my previous work in a way that was maybe not as possible to do when i didn't have such a large body of work.  it is a very subtle feeling.  like artistic proprioception.  an interoceptive awareness of where i am in my art.  this is a simultaneously abstract and specific feeling. 
i'm unsure of how i feel about this morally.  there is something about the hardcore individualist motivation in working like this--responding to previous work i have made--avoiding the tropes of previous stories--etc.--something about strident individualism which feels tawdry and propagandistic.  the alternative seems either like being tossed around in the giantest ocean slammed by rocks and unnamed sea creatures or being in harmony and eternal dialog with all art ever made and about to be made.  

stephanie barber's 'in the jungle' with dan conrad and jenny graf

Why do you do these things? What's it like when you are unable to do these things?
 
probably to make someone love me or hear me (same).  ideally everyone. a deep sort of love which has to do with being known--a childish unattainable eradication of the aloneness of a life.
also because maybe i feel like it is 'the good work'.  i am a religious fanatic without a religion.

it feels terrible when i am unable to make work.  sometimes i don't work for a little while as a way to make myself feel awful and worthless and unloveable.  then i realize i am doing it and quickly stop. i have tried to think about worth outside of the creation of something poetic, or moving or funny or lovely--then i imagine i could be a monk and this seems like it could possibly be fulfilling (or a jogger--sometimes i think about jogging) but i think, for me, it would not be (or would cease to be after a certain time).  art work is spiritual charity.  both internally and externally.  

When was That Moment in your life that told you you would become what you are? 

i don't think there was a moment.  i've always been what i am. 
 
Another still from "In The Jungle", this time courtesy Kelly Kuvo
How has your life changed to accommodate That Moment's effect on you?
my life is really hard.  probably a lot of lives are very hard and much harder but sometimes i think the way i live is a bit too uncomfortable.  the hairshirts of financial destitution and ascetic self flagelation of expectation.  
no, my life is super easy and like a soak in a never cleaned hot tub in the post swinger mountains of colorado.  it need not accommodate.

How has your work affected your life in return?
my work affects my life in that i wish for it to be as multifaceted as i try to make a film or poem or video.  how something can be crass and tender simultaneously or funny and sad, or academic and cheap joke..............i guess in life you have to pick something and i am not so good at doing that--i feel let down by the lack of dynamism in lives and jobs and towns and loves................or maybe i am terrified by the actual dynamism?  more moved by the architectural angles and armatures of contrast and collusion suggested by challenging art than the messy, cruel way that these sorts of dynamics play out in life and interpersonal relations.

What do you think of the future?
i think it is going to come and i think it is already here.  i am a self aware substructure and as such am (though pessimistic) a believer.  

What do you think of when you think of David Lee Roth? Why?
i think he is super.  i love the way he and eddie van halen play fast and loose and funny with their super-talents.  he is as brilliant a physical comedian and dancer as fred astaire and steppin fetchit.  his radio show in ny is ok too.  he's sharp.

MICHAEL ANDREW TURNER: A Muscle Car Out of Cockroach Parts



















Mike Turner! Oh man, where to start? Lexington Kentucky's own Mikey T plays solo musics, all lonely thready guitar ragas, and sometimes with his band Warmer Milks shows happen. He's always got a new chapbook or cassette, weird job or exciting and confrontational place to live. He's a poet, a real dreamer and the kind of conversationalist who can talk the paint off a tank. In the past year or two he's also taken a stab at bent journeyman noir with duo Cross aka The Sound of The Rat Vex. Warmer Milks played at the old True Vine space, where the shows were perfumed with the night air of Hampden, a burned feathers smell that was romantic and even mouthwatering. Eventually someone, probably Ian Nagoski, silenced any curiousity about the delicious nature of the odor in revealing that it came from the late-night crematorium down 36th St towards Ash. That one night, though, in that charring air, Mikey said to me "You should have a band called Lexie Mountain Boys" and then laughed his ass off. 2005. 



What do you do?
 
I write a lot of poetry and fiction.  A "lot" could be small as well but I guess it depends. Some things I've written have appeared printed but I can't recall off hand where but that's irrelevant.  I'm bad at keeping up with that stuff anyway.
 
I suppose I've more so "known for" within underground circles as someone who plays guitars. Electric and acoustic ones. I write songs on them and then either perform/record the songs with other people under the guise of "band" or by myself as "solo".  I've also played around with many other instruments throughout the years but guitars are my "candy" for sure. That sounds ridiculous doesn't it?
 
 
What are you doing the most lately?
 
The past seven months have seen me acting out in the group Cross as well as under a variation of my own name, Ma Turner. Cross toured for a couple of months over the summer, tried to move to California then gratefully came back to Lexington, KY. The past few months we've been writing a new record to be recorded early 2010 in a hair salon/art haus here in town.
 
The past two weeks I've been playing with open tunings on my acoustic here at the house. Elaborating on chord sequences and scales, warping them into songs. Also sketching out my next short story while my first one is coming out early 2010 via issue one of Heavy Bombardment (Rampart Tapes).
 
How long have you done these things? How have the things changed?
 
Writing has been a part of my life since I could first hold a crayon in my hand. It is what I know how to do more than anything else. Talking to God through writing. It is my way. The majority of my writing has been poetry but the past few years I've been writing short fiction. What a thrill it is!  With poetry, I stay pretty free form and but since I've been tackling short fiction, I've grown more accustomed to structure. Being torn apart via editing is an amazing feeling. I get to hang out with the words longer. It is starting to rub off on my poetry and music as well.
 
I have played guitars with other people since the early nineties. At first I just made sounds on them, then almost a year in to owning a guitar (around ninth grade), my mother got me into some guitar lessons. I learned most of the basic chords as well as some "rock" tricks. After writing a couple songs on my own, I quit taking lessons and sat in my room combining the sounds I was making beforehand with the stuff I'd learned through lessons. Early on I knew it was all about writing my own songs.
 
Unfortunately I lived in a area where I didn't meet that many people who thought very much like me (Nicholasville, Jessamine County, Kentucky) so my songs were confined to the bedroom. Meanwhile I played in a few high school bands but none of them were really up the alley of what I wanted sans one group called 'Sunburn' which leaned towards grittier 'pop' music that aligned with my interests and I think we actually played one of my songs. I remember being laughed at for wearing a Depeche Mode shirt and not being familiar with the high from marijuana. I believe this was 1993 0r 1994. A beautiful time. Memorex cassettes with "Fire in Cairo" and "Divine Hammer" blasting in my headphones. So tender and wide eyed. I'm closing my eyes right now and thinking of it. I can still be there. So nice.
 
I'm not sure that me playing guitar has changed as much as progressed. Writing songs is still the point but now I suppose my idea of a song has opened up larger. Perhaps I've always known a song can be anything I want it to be but now because I've been playing around with a guitar for roughly nineteen years, I have many different angles to work with. More tools, more colors, it's easier to pull an idea out of my head now and mold it into what I want it to be. However, I go through moments of unlearning where I just fall into the space I was in as a kid, "DUNH, DUNH", bar all of the strings on one fret, bang on it in time with a personal vibration no one else is getting but myself.
 
In the realm of acoustic guitars, I've been sitting around with one since I was very young. 'Ma Turner'. The 'a' is my middle initial but I like Ma because it is obviously feminine, MOTHER. I dabbled in that with the name 'Warmer Milks'.  Ma and WM are similar in their beginnings. Writing songs on acoustic guitar about love and life but as I get older I allow more tradition to trickle in as well as space and abstractions. Don't get me wrong, I know how that "trad" word sounds but in all seriousness, I'm friendlier with folk and country then I used to be but I also have no interest in nostalgic torch music. Like any other music I play, it feels nice to leave the door open in every room. It comes down to more emphasis on song and it happens to be kind of handed down from the past but yet still moving into the future.
 
Playing in Cross, I'm going back further into a high school mind, a kind of guitar hero worship, MOVES, occult sexual possession like Page slides and Jagger hips but Ginn on his tip toes heckling the football team. Total Television Personalities pulsating lack of//major sophistication. I dunno, just wanting to fucking boogie again feels amazing. It's me and three other guys,  a total team effort. I write riffs and bring them to practice, so fun. The group in turn, puts it all together and it becomes it own thing.  In my early twenties I played in what people would consider a "street punk" band but in actuality it was a hybrid of like Motorhead and some southern rock spiel but the skinhead/punker scene ate it up. We toured a bunch and made a record that I'm super proud of and (it) did really well in that world. When I wasn't jamming in this unit, I'd be at home listening to Jim O'Rourke or some shit like that. I think it was the Gastr Del Sol record 'Upgrade & Afterlife', a total masterpiece of insanity and beauty. At the time, I was really torn up and confused, like I thought I was cheating on that album by playing rock n roll so eventually I quit. A few years later I was playing music that could be compared to some boring ass Archers of Loaf water. Jesus, the REAL rock n roll band I left was so much better. I suckered myself into empty ideas of what is and isn't art. Fuck art! Have fun! Luckily I started Warmer Milks and we just did EVERYTHING that came to mind for around six years. Art or no art, I projected a new manifesto for that thing every other minute and actually followed through with the majority of my (for better or for worse) ideas. People I played with, hung around or performed for either got stoked or bummed on that deal but I am so proud of it.  I learned so much about myself in that period of time and wouldn't take it back for anything. Warmer Milks ended last May and I'm really stoked that it is over. It was time for a change.  
 
Why do you do these things? No, really, why? How does it make you
feel? What's it like when you are unable to do these things?
 
Like I mentioned earlier, writing was my first true form of creative expression. I've written a lot of poetry. Started when I was 5. I write at least two a week, rarely skipping out on said activity. I've thrown away a good 80% of the stuff I've written but haven't forgotten any of it's essence. I keep writing the same thing over and over again. Just want to improve. I also said earlier that I'm writing to God and if I can't write to God then I feel as if I'm dying. I want to channel this into my short fiction and I think that it's happening. Communicate to to a higher plane through some short story about a kid with down syndrome that builds a muscle car out of cockroach parts. Amen.
 
I play music because it feels so good.  It has been the one thing externally since day one that has been a constant turn on, total passion, relentless form of expression. I always walk away with a sense of adventure, curiosity, wonderment, excitement but yet it also makes me nervous, anxious and often times frustrated because I love it so much and like any other powerful relationship in my life, have had some extreme ups and downs with it.  There are times I've allowed other aspects of my life to steer me away from music or writing and that is something I will never let happen again because it is weak on my part and causes major sadness inside. I've arranged everything in my life at this point to compliment my love for playing music and writing and I'm thankful that I am at a place where I can always participate in those activities and nothing can touch that.
 
 
When was That Moment in your life that told you you would become what
you are? What happened? Please elaborate.
 
The Moment with writing was the first time I ever tried to write a letter. My parents were fighting and I attempted to write them a letter explaining that they were scaring me but it was just scribbles. I knew those lines didn't exactly translate out to the world what I was thinking but it sure made me feel a whole lot better and I haven't stopped since.
 
With music, a combination of situations really. My mother's record collection blasting on the stereo when I was four. The two of us would dance to Neil Diamond, Simon and Garfunkel, Carpenters, Beatles as well as countless awesome christian rock albums from the seventies and early eighties. It truly warmed my heart. Watching MTV at it's inception. Just taking in the visuals (haircuts, outfits, stage set ups) and obviously the pulse of electronic drums and synths shook me intensively. It truly felt like alien music and I knew I wanted a part in that which went hand in hand with 1980's fm radio. Stuff like Billy Idol and Wham! struck me as so intense and I loved beating on my kiddie drum set along to their songs in my bedroom after school.
 
I suppose the "super reality connector" between me and music was hearing:
 
 a) Black Flag via a dub from some asshole in junior high (1990) (he thought it sucked so he gave it to me because I was a nerd) 
 
b) Nirvana on Z Rock several months later and wondering what the fuck was going on (I promptly grabbed a baseball bat and played along, it was like someone set my house on fire).
 
BUT
 
c) The fire was completely lit when local college radio (http://wrfl.fm) was added in the mix shortly thereafter to fill in the gaps of underground musics and helped me along Self Highway. I found a copy of their zine (RiFLe) and it had an interview with Mike Watt. Floored for life.
 
How has your life changed to accommodate That Moment's effect on you?
 
The impulse to create constantly jerks me around from place to place, back and forth through time, in and out of conversation, etc. so I guess in the end The Moment controls my every move. Good job Moment!
 
How has your work affected your life in return?
 
Not to be cliche but my work IS my life. That being said, everything else around me plays into the moment I make up something musically or through written/spoken words. It can be scary for sure but for the most part, my life is full of joy because of my guitar. Jesus, good grief.
 
What do you think of the future?
 
I love the idea of getting older. Improvement. The future is great. A constant shift. Go Future!
 
What has David Lee Roth meant to your life? Please elaborate.
 
David Lee Roth has a lot to do with the future for me. The older I get, the more I appreciate and respect David Lee Roth as lead vocalist in Van Halen circa 1980's. DLR now? Absolutely no clue what he means to me NOW? As a kid, his thing kinda got under my skin for some reason, especially his solo situation. It was too campy for me at the time. Now, I can handle it but put on the first Van Halen lp and there is some serious rock n roll going on and that is the essence of DLR to me.
 
I wrestle with the idea of worshipping "classic rock" icons, groups, songs, etc. but regardless, I find myself back in the middle of it, studying up on whatever I can about it and David Lee Roth plays into that, of course! As much as I wish I could just focus on something eternally cool as Whitehouse forever and let go of VH, I can't. But Whitehouse IS cooler.
 

Sunday, December 27, 2009

JEREMY HARRIS: Thru Earth With Time

Jeremy Harris occasionally lives in Providence RI and has been making music as Lazy Magnet, a bent-out-of-shape pop/electronic-noise project, since age 16, either as a soloist or leader of group entity. Lately he's been wrangling a project called "Adventure Hippies", wherein friends who donated money towards his return to the US from France are paired up for musical collaboration. Jeremy is extremely prolific and dedicated to his craft of complete immersion and possession. Like many great men, he was once a dishwasher.

What do you do? What are you doing the most lately?
- reading every philip k dick book post-"man in the high castle"
- playing a korg poly 800 and a roland tr 505 thru a boss DM2 delay pedal
- writing fiction to come to terms with a life of failure
- walking 19 blocks to wilson hall in nashville, tennessee and participating in psyc
h studies for 10 dollars an hour
- experimenting with having sex with people i'm not attached to romantically


How long have you done these things? How have the things changed?
a couple weeks...
- i finish and start diffrent titles.. this week: a maze of death and counter-clockwise world
- tapes of jams are being reworked into new songs for the next lazy magnet album due out on corleone records
- the latest story is taking shape as a play to be performed next month in nashville and an animation collab with jo dery
- slowly making the money i need to pay back the people who bailed me out after last european tour tanked financially
- i'm not into it... so i stopped


Why do you do these things? No, really, why? How does it make you feel? What's it like when you are unable to do these things?
- this particular writers voice is a welcome friend in an otherwise lonely universe. try as i might i cant finish any other writers books that i start....
- i want to top my last record. "to exist in the fullness of possesion and at the height of power"
- jo asked me to write a story about something specific.. in the process of trying to articulate free-associative ideas i recognized somethings about the last year that i hadnt thought all the way though until that moment.. and so decided that writing could be usefull.

- since i was kicked out of my moms house on my 18th birthday i've been poor. i need money to survive. it's nice to walk. i dont own a bike since moving back from paris

Lazy Magnet live 2008, photo by Kevin Pelrine

When was That Moment in your life that told you you would become what you are?
... it has something to do with listening to iron maiden really loud when my parents would leave the house when i was 7 or 8... and thrashing around my living room like an extra in an anthrax video...
... and the part of the woodstock soundtrack where the guy is yelling at the crowd to spell "fuck" -- i used to listen to that over and over again when my parents werent home...
... and maybe watching a video of myself playing drums with fingerless leath
er gloves on when i was 11...
... and playing tapes of my own home recorded music for friends in their cars and feeling like i was special.. an outstanding, special person and that i had a special talent that deserved attention.. from my self as well as from others

How has your life changed to accommodate That Moment's effect on you?
- i've always followed my own star

How has your work affected your life in return?
- i've remained poor..

- i have made many friends..
- i've created things that i feel reflect my essential being and nature to a primitive and basic degree...


Jeremy at WFMU going live for Jason Sigal's Talk's Cheap

What do you think of the future?
- totally, totally psyched ... i want the chip in me.. technological telepathy thru wifi mind meld... 4 d cube slice thru earth with time

What's the best thing about David Lee Roth? What's your favorite thing about him? Least favorite?
- i love diamond dave.. absolutely.
- the cover to eat em and smile rules..
- the video for just a gigolo was really important to me when i was young..
- the fact that he secretly financed a punk club in los angeles in the early 80s rules.. and his reasons for keeping it secret.. um, rule... i wonder if he has an autobiography.. most likely.. little richards autobiography is great...

David Lee Roth's totally bonkers and uncontrolled rant disguised as an autobiography is called Crazy From The Heat.
It raises questions about his sexuality in ways you may not expect.


The Lazy Magnet set on WFMU is really great. Here are other places:
ADVENTURE HIPPIES
LAZY MAGNET
Lazy Magnet on Myspace
Corleone Records

Monday, December 21, 2009

IRENE MOON: What Seemed Simpler

The unbelievably prolific Irene Moon currently resides in the North Carolina home where she grew up, amidst collections of rescued ferns, elf homes, rare pottery, toy horses and devil's-head jugs. Her theatrical and musical output exhibits an equally bewildering array of influence (from a lifelong passion for insects to stark allegories of the subconscious,) characterized by blend of dark humor and childlike enthusiasm.

What do you do? What are you doing the most lately?
I inhabit universities. I am an entomologist…I study insects. I program web content. I facilitate free dispersal of biological information. I create music that is theatrical in nature. I create recordings and release them. I build things.

How long have you done these things?

Insects—all my life

Music—since about 1996 or 97

Why do you do them? How does it make you feel?
Mostly I do it because its fun. When it is no longer fun than I guess Ill move on to something else.

Irene performing Conjur Auk at the Midway Cafe, Jamaica Plain MA. Photo by Bill T. Miller, 2005


When was That Moment in your life that told you you would become what you are? What happened?
That moment happened a few times…moments of choice between what seemed like a harder path and what seemed simpler.

My first year in collage a lot gelled for me. I was taking courses in zoology along with design school classes. I was discussing with my advisor about how I wanted to get a merged degree, one involving the design of organisms. He said I couldn’t do that, so I quit that university, hitch-hiked to Athens GA, got a job in the Entomology Department, accepted to art school and started performing musical scientific slide show lectures.

The moment happened again after graduating from art school I decided that if I wanted to do science related art I needed to actually work in science. To experience it, not just imagine the experience. So I left Athens and got my masters degree in the Entomology Department at the University of Kentucky.

How has your life changed or not changed to accommodate that moment's effect on you?
My work is all I think about and I am sure I'll die early because of it. Personal and family relationships have suffered. I only own music gear and a few pillows I really like.


Auk Theatre press photo

How has your work affected your life in return?
I can talk about how much I love Black Sabbath for hours without getting bored. My favorite thing in the world to do is listen to ELO while programming. I am pretty good at giving a lecture, scientific or musical.

The best thing is the number of friends I have made. People of similar drive both in music and entomology who have a creative and strong desire to uncover some hidden truth.

What does David Lee Roth mean to you?
Everything. I even have a Van Halen velcro wallet.


Incredibly thorough Irene Moon websightings:

http://begoniasociety.org/

Irene Moon Wikipedia page

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

ROBERT RYAN: Baphomet & Shangri La

"Love is All", Robert Ryan

I first met Robert "Bink" Ryan when he set up a show for Crazy Dreams Band in his one-room studio slash gallery slash third floor walkup off one of Asbury Park's Cookman Street. His walls were covered in gorgeous framed works in a metaphysical-flash style and a third of one wall was entirely given over to a monochromatic cosmos mural by Daniel Higgs. Nobody at the party seemed particularly interested in our music, but Bink's fridge seemed to grow beer and everyone was pretty nice. The next day, I walked miles in a freak hailstorm to Robert's tattoo shop one town away where I received a rainbow ice cup and my clothing was dried in a laundry room filled with Chihuahua figurines. Asbury Park, New Jersey is sort of a magical wasteland in itself, and now Bink lives in the neighboring village of Ocean Grove, a plot of mansions and cottages on Methodist-owned land that closes its gates at midnight. He spearheads the musical entity Harmonize Most High and continues to execute dazzling works of art for flesh and paper.

What do you do?

I make paintings and tattoos and try to work on music as much as the painting and tattooing will allow for me to do.


What are you doing the most lately?

I feel like I have been traveling a lot lately and studying. I have been working with plant medicines and working on my posture and breathing. Of the aforementioned things I feel like tattooing has been occupying a big spot because that's what pays the bills.


How long have you done these things?

Tattooing for 14 years.
Painting for about 16 and playing music for about 23 years.


How have the things changed?
Well I feel like its always expanding
and contracting. Its always growing I'm always purging expelling all the bullshit that attaches itself to you on these paths. Earthly snares and such.

Why do you do these things?

For the Love


How does it make you feel?
Like my hero Sun Ra said "Music can be
your greatest ambassador or your worst nemesis."

What's it like when you are unable to do these things?

I feel like I
imagine a worried mother must feel like.


When was That Moment in your life that told you you would become what you are?
When I was young I used to live in an old house that belonged to Eugene O'Neal's widow and daughter, Agnes and Una. They lived there after Una divorced Charlie Chaplin. One night my cousin and I were playing in the yard and we both saw what we thought was Eugene O' Neal's
ghost walk past us. At that moment my mind was open to anything. I was Eleven.

How has your life changed to accommodate That Moment's effect on you?
Well I figured out right away that I wasn't taking the easy way out. To see ghosts and UFOs and consume LSD or live in Hare Krishna temple might be hard to explain to your friends and loved ones yet is still worth the experience.

How has your work affected your life in return?

I could be the poster
child for what you should or what you shouldn't do with your life. It all depends on who you ask. Tattooing has shaped me as well as destroyed me, like my psychic baphomet. Music on the other hand is my Shangri La and painting might be the strongest of my personal connections.

How does your location affect what you do and who you are these days?
As you know I live between "Gods square mile" Ocean Grove & "The city by the Sea" Asbury Park. I feel as though I'm very lucky to work with some of the greatest people I know, I live four blocks from the beach and I play Frisbee with my dog almost every morning. The music scene here is so backwards and the art scene pretty much sucks despite the fact some of the best illustrators and painters I know live within 10 minutes of here. We all just exist outside our locale and I think there is something to be said about that.

What do you think of the future?

I think its an oblong oblivion.



What has David Lee Roth meant in your life?
He is like my favorite rock roll trickster. Giant Surfboards, Samurai Swords, Assless Pants, High Kicks, Monster Trucks! The guy is a Titan guarding the temple of Rock and Roll but then he gets busted buying dime bags of downtown julie brown ( middle school jersey weed slang) in Washington square park? This was a task I mastered in the 10th grade. He really is mystifying. I spent a whole summer surfing and watching the "Just a Gigolo "and "California Girls" videos on what felt like a perpetual loop.

Do you have anything you'd like to ask me?
I would like your advice on my retirement idea. Dig it! A small shack, One man (or woman) in a hazmat suit and a dogbowl on his head. He makes burritos named after the famous songs of one of the most important rock and roll bands of our generation DE EVOLUTION BURRITO! Customer: " I would like one Mongoloid with medium salsa please and can I get cheese on that? Burritista: "Yes sir we can whip it." Customer : "Oh then whip it good"


All images courtesy Robert Ryan.

Robert Ryan works at Electric Tattoo
314 Main St. Bradley Beach NJ 07720
p: 732- 988-8882
www.electrictattoonj.com


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

ERIC ALLEN HATCH: Separate Violent Accidents

photos courtesy Eric Allen Hatch, shown here behaving allegorically

Eric Allen Hatch was an original member of the Red Room. Which sort of makes him partway responsible (along with many other unsung and semi-sung heroes) for Baltimore's Cultural Landscape in The Naughties today because, musically speaking, The Red Room opened the floodgates for modern experimentalists and improvisers to enter Baltimore, and thus for Baltimore to enter them. He was part of the trickle that opened out, decades later, into a rich, rank, silty delta of radical. More recently, his
Free First Thursdays Film Series (Oct 2006 - Aug 2008) at the Baltimore Museum of Art was "a mixture of truly adventurous films ... focusing particularly on the visionary film explosion of the 1960s and '70s", with a programming emphasis on the rarely-screened. These days he programs the Maryland Film Festival, ever hot on the trail of helping out the city he calls home by watching movies all day and being nice.


"this is me and my friend evan 16 years ago"

What do you do? What are you doing the most lately?
I’m a film programmer; my year-round day job is with Maryland Film Festival. I sort through hundreds of entries from filmmakers to select films for our festival in May, and travel to other film festivals over the course of the year (like SXSW, New York Asian, and Toronto International) in the hopes of luring gems back to Baltimore.

Prior to this I founded, programmed, and hosted the Free First Thursdays Film Series at the Baltimore Museum of Art (which ran from ’06 through ’08 and favored ‘60s and ‘70s world cinema).

Some people also know me as a former music and film critic for City Paper, and/or as a former manager of the Charles Village Video Americain.

Back in the day I used to DJ around town. In case you missed out on that, spend an evening listening to “Push It,” “It’s Tricky,” “The Humpty Dance,” and “Me So Horny” in a continuous loop, and it’ll be just like you were there.

Most often in my waking life I am listening to music (5-10 hours a day), watching movies (1-4 features a day), walking (3-10 miles a day), record shopping (all my $$$), or reading (data fluctuates wildly).


l to r: Eric Allen Hatch, Scott Braid, Skyzz Cyzyk, John Waters

How long have you done these things?
The BMA series launched almost 4 years ago (R.I.P.); I started working for MD Film Fest full time in January 2007. Before that, I’d done a spot of programming here or there (see “Moments,” below).

Why do you do them? How does it make you feel?
It makes me feel great to connect positively with other people, and one way to do this is through my cultural tastes.

"this is me playing dr dude"

When was That Moment in your life that told you you would become what you are? What happened?
Lots of slow-burn, lowercase-“m” moments: curating a 16mm film night at the Red Room nearly a decade ago; working as a member of the MicroCineFest screening committee under Skizz Cyzyk (one of Baltimore’s real cultural heroes); discovering the work of favorite directors like RW Fassbinder, Frederick Wiseman, and Claire Denis; attending double features at the Orpheum and the Satyajit Ray retrospective circa ’96 at the Charles; watching an average of 3 movies a day, 365 days a year from 1998-2004.

How has your life changed or not changed to accommodate that moment's effect on you?
With both film programming and critical writing, my life has become about connecting other people’s artistic accomplishments with audiences. My life’s goal had previously always been to find a way to make a living, however meager, via writing fiction (or maybe screenplays). In the long-term, I’ll have to figure out if that dream has been scrapped or just put on hold.

How has your work affected your life in return?
I have enormous amounts of free time in the summer and absolutely no free time from late February through early May. I get to New York more often and I’ve gotten to know Toronto fairly well. I drink a lot of coffee at Red Emma’s. I’ve met a lot of filmmakers, most of whom are really cool (with a couple of douches in the mix).

What do you dream about constantly?
Launching a gatefold-cover, 180-gram vinyl record label devoted to new Baltimore music; programming and managing a restored single-screen movie theater such as the Parkway on North Avenue or the Playhouse on 25th Street; living in the Bernal Heights neighborhood of San Francisco; becoming a Hollywood script doctor to raise money for any/all of the above; making a living as a novelist in Baltimore or even New York City; experiencing a Baltimore City with a subway system as extensive as DC’s Metro.


"this is me when a monkey visited the film fest office"

Some true, little-known facts about you?
  • Both of my grandfathers lost pinky fingers in separate violent accidents, decades apart.
  • A friend of the family named her child Eric Hatch Kim after me, shortly before the entire family was deported.
  • I was reared without a television from birth until, fortuitously, the month “Twin Peaks” was first broadcast.
  • My middle-school English teacher took a letter grade off a paper for my use of the phrase “Tom Sawyer was raised…”, and asked to see me after class – at which point she angrily shouted at me, “Human beings are REARED; livestock is raised.”
What advice would you give David Lee Roth if he was in the midst of an existential crisis and he came to you and only you for help?
He’s only a name to me, but my gut says move to Baltimore and start a band with Lexie. In general I am happy to listen to people’s problems.

JUSTIN SIROIS: Completely High

Justin Sirois is founder and co-director of Narrow House, an experimental writing publishing collective. His poetry is wicked. He received Maryland State Art Council grants for poetry in 2003 and 2007. His books include Secondary Sound (BlazeVOX Books) and MLKNG SCKLS (Publishing Genius). He is a designer for Edge Books, and he's also responsible for the original Taxidermy Lodge (now known as TAX LO) dance parties. Currently, Justin is trying to find a publisher for his first novel written in collaboration with Iraqi refugee Haneen Alshujairy about displaced Iraqis living in Fallujah in April of '04.

What do you do? What are you doing the most lately?

Writing stories. I just finished a novel about two young men in Fallujah (Iraq) that I wrote in collaboration with Iraqi refuge Haneen Alshujairy. She’s amazing. We met on the internet and now she lives in Cairo. We’ve never met and she’s beautiful. A small press is reviewing it right now and I’m hoping they’ll publish it, but you never know. It’s tough, getting published and all.

Publishing Genius just released MLKNG SCKLS, the “deleted scenes” from that novel. People seem to like it a lot, especially the story where Salim, the main character, “uncooks” a meal for his girlfriend. It’s endearing and gross at the same time. Dehumidifiers line the kitchen counter. Everything sounds “undelicious”.

I’m about 2/3 finished with a new novel about two metalhead brothers growing up in New Hampshire in 1993. It’s a pretty sad story about disappointment (much like my other novel… oops), but it’s more about admiring the wrong people for the wrong reasons and realizing that before it’s too late. There are a lot of D&Dish hallucinations in the narrative – and the main character imagines he’s having sex with the drawings from The Joy of Sex.

It might upset my parents.

How long have you done these things? How have the things changed?

I’ve been writing all my life, I guess. I wrote a comic book when I was six and the spelling was so bad that my dad would read it to my brother and me and we’d fall on the floor laughing. Through high school I drew and wrote a comic/music magazine that I hope no one still owns, but people back in Florida mention it sometimes. It was named after a Sound Garden song. Yikes. Let’s forget that. Completely.

I wrote poems mostly between the ages of 18-28. They were easier to compose and manage. They changed a lot – confessional to language based then a combination of the two and then whatever. BlazeVOX published my book Secondary Sound in 2008. It’s about piracy and copyright law and sampling. But I always wanted to write stories. Now I’m trying to do that mostly. I’m a bit happier.

Why do you do these things? No, really, why? How does it make you
feel? What's it like when you are unable to do these things?

Because it’s absolutely absorbing and it’s impossible not to get these ideas/images/characters/issue out on paper. It’s good therapy. And it’s the closest thing to religion that I have at the moment. There’s no better feeling than writing a beautiful sentence or finishing a solid story. It’s literally the best feeling I’ve ever had. And if writing brings me closer to people – understanding and empathizing with strangers, observing behavior, both negative and positive – then it’s the best thing in my life.

Writing fiction is the only creative act that I can concentrate on for longer than an hour or two, everyday, no matter what. A disciplined schedule is essential if you’re working on one project for 10 months or longer – sometimes much longer. Between projects I won’t write for months at a time and it feels terrible; it’s close to feeling directionless and useless. Drinking happens more. Video games, too. Man! What a time vampire those video games are.

During that down time, I try to research as much as possible. Reading helps, of course. Eventually the next project bubbles up and I’m back to normal.


When was That Moment in your life that told you would become what
you are?

I think it was when I finished the first draft of Falcons on the Floor, that first novel. I felt completely high. It was a, “did I really do that?” kind of experience that built and built after two years of work.

Now I know I can do what I’ve always dreamed about, but with that realization comes a whole lot more pressure on myself to keep going.


How has your life changed to accommodate That Moment's effect on you?

Dramatically and not at all. Now I know I have the discipline to sustain a rigorous work schedule, I can stay motivated about a project no one knows a thing about, and there’s a building community of strangers who want to read my work, but, that said, I’ll always be suspicious of the quality of the work. It’s that inner voice that constantly tells you, “Man, you have nothing to offer… you’re so cliché.”

All creative people deal with that insecurity. You just have to work through it – keep making and loving and caring about what you do. Falling in love with your labor is just as important as loving your language.

How has your work affected your life in return?

I can’t imagine my life without writing. My best friends are in the creative community and I’d rather have massively great creativity surrounding me than a sweet house or car or whatever. I feel like I have the absolute best quality of life and I share it with the most interesting people in one of the best cities in the States.


What do you think of the future?

I’m excited about the new XBox hands free controller because I won’t have to buy a gym membership. Lifting Cuba’s embargo will be a beautiful event; generations have suffered for something they had nothing to do with. Maybe gay marriage and pot smoking will be legal one day – everywhere – even on airplanes. Gay marriage on airplanes, you ask. Yes. The Future. Goodness! I don’t smoke pot.

The future isn’t as bleak as people think. Now that DIY is mainstream and nerds are cool, life is better for creative people. We can make books or albums on the cheap and post them for free and if it’s good work people will pay attention. Wars are essential because they’ve always happened. That sucks. The planet is suffocating under the stress of irresponsible consumption. That sucks, too.


Would you vote for David Lee Roth in an election? Why or why not?

It depends what he’s running for. President? No. Sorry. NFL Commissioner? YES. Oh hell yes. I saw this YouTube video of an old interview Roth did for MTV and he was soaring on coke or some narcotic from another planet and I was like, “That man should be running the NFL.”