If you've ever wondered what goes on inside the mind of a Rush Limbaugh fan, let us introduce you to Jim Derych. For more than a decade, Derych was a loyal, self-assured Limbaugh follower—a so-called dittohead—who uncritically accepted the ideas Rush advocated on his syndicated national radio program. But by the time George W. Bush took office in 2001, Derych found himself questioning the wisdom of Rush's ideology, ultimately concluding that Limbaugh's social, economic and political principles sounded better in theory than they worked in practice. In 2004, Derych deserted Limbaugh and the Republicans and switched his allegiance to the Democratic Party.
The term frequently kicked around is “hundred-year flood,” but if you can remember more than three such inundations in your own lifetime, that’s probably an inaccurate label to put on what Martineztown went through a couple of weeks ago. It might be more apt to call it a “12-year” flood.
How many churches do you figure we have in Albuquerque?
Our Yellow Pages list 553 churches (I counted them). Every one owns a building, be it a sprawling mega-church with a roller park or a plain cinder block chapel, inconspicuous on a residential street. It all adds up to a lot of real estate, and a lot of dry, safe, empty rooms between Sunday school classes.
At the same time, Albuquerque has an estimated 4,000 homeless people, many of them families with children. Shelters won’t let fathers or teenage boys live among women and girls. Consequently, the price of keeping a homeless family together can mean living out of a car, or worse.
Dateline: Austria--A misguided bank robber was arrested after he tried to hold up his local town hall, thinking the historic building was a bank. Wearing a mask and waving a toy pistol, the unemployed man burst into the town hall in the village of Poggersdorf and shouted, “Hold up! Hold up!” The robber realized his mistake when an employee explained to him where he was, police said in a statement. The robber fled into some nearby woods but was arrested when he came back later to pick up his motorbike, which he had left parked outside the town hall.
Duuuuuuude--Take a bong hit for our homies! Two Albuquerque bands have been invited to play in The Stoner Hands of Doom, the largest festival of stoner-rock in the Southwest. Devil Riding Shotgun and SuperGiant were selected to appear with more than 40 bands near Phoenix, Ariz., this Labor Day Weekend. Unfortunately, Devil Riding Shotgun won't be able to attend due to a work scheduling conflict. “It would have been great to go and represent Albuquerque. We'll just have to wait for the next opportunity and play around town, [which] is great to play in,” says DRS bassist Neb. “Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.” So now it’s down to SuperGiant, who’ll perform alongside the likes of Graves at Sea, Super Heavy Goat Ass, Acid King and Sasquatch. “A lot of bands have gotten discovered at this festival,” says Jeremy, Alibi webmonkey and nimble-fingered lead guitarist of SuperGiant. En route to the festival, SuperGiant will make a pit stop in Flagstaff on Friday, Sept. 1, where they'll knock the plaster off the Hotel Monte Vista. It's an unlikely venue, but the venerable old hotel is reputed to be haunted by 10 different ghosts. So that's kind of rocking. Learn more about the ghosts at www.hotelmontevista.com. Details about the festival can be obtained at the event's crappy website, www.cherylsweb.com/shod/index.html.
Get yer learn on! The League of Young Voters presents an all-ages hip-hop event to usher you back into academia. Engage in emcee- and b-battles, plus jams from Garbage Pail Kidz and Audiobots. Friday, Sept. 1, from 6-10 p.m. at the UNM SUB Ballroom. Info at email@example.com. (LM)
When talking to Will Johnson of Denton Texas’ Centro-matic, you get the feeling that, as thoughtful and succinct as his comments are, there’s something else going on inside the mind of this man who’s been the driving force behind eight albums produced in 10 prolific years. Johnson admits he’s inundated with melodies. They constantly run through his head, often accompanied by lyrics that sometimes even he doesn’t completely comprehend. The indie-Americana identity that Centro-matic has forged is a tender confection of alt.country riffs, faintly haggard vocals and meticulously thought-out melody that paints a vague but still tangible sonic picture. About to embark on the West Coast leg of the band’s tour, Johnson talks with the Alibi about songwriting, musical influences and coming of age.
DJ Ginger Dunnill found herself on the fast-track from tomboy to temptress. On a normal day, the pretty, petite Dunnill sports baggy hip-hop gear in an attempt to take a pin to the balloon of stereotypes inflated around women in the hip-hop world. She wants respect for her work, her emceeing, her DJing, her artistry—not for her body.
Drive-In Movie?--This Friday and Saturday night, Sept. 1 and 2, Albuquerque-based filmmaker Rob Kellar (co-director of Collecting Rooftops) will be screening his new film Carjacked at the Guild Cinema in Nob Hill. The screening will take place at 10 p.m. on both nights. Kellar’s feature-length thriller follows the story of a man (Chris Payne) who has been carjacked at gunpoint and forced to do harmful things to himself and others in order to save his own life. Carjacked was shot on 16mm color film for a penny-pinching $20,000. Kellar will be on hand both nights to discuss his experiences shooting low-budget films here in New Mexico. Tickets are $7 at the Guild Cinema (3405 Central NE).
Let me start this off by stating that I love me some bad movies. In fact, I adore them. Pop The Beastmaster into the ol’ DVD player, slap me down on the sofa with a big-ass bag of Orville Redenbacher and my lady at my side, and I’m one happy sonuvabitch. What I don’t like, however, are shitty movies. What’s the difference? you might ask. Well, the way I see it, a bad movie shows some heart--you can have some fun watching it. Sure, the acting sucks and the effects are crap, but they still manage to be entertaining. Shitty movies, on the other hand, are mind-numbingly dull and pointless. The only fun you get out of these is when you pop ’em out of the player and fling ’em into the ceiling fan. Basically, if you aren’t entertained on some level--what’s the friggin’ point, right?
Perhaps I'm being a bit culturally insensitive, but I've never thought of the British Isles as a source of movie action heroes. Sure, Scotland gave us Bond Man Numero Uno Sean Connery—but even Connery was a bit more of a suave gadget man than a Sylvester Stallone, strip-to-the-waist-and-rip-out-someone's-esophagus type. When I think about the island of Hong Kong, I think of Jackie Chan. When I think about the island of Britain, I think of John Cleese. That's just not a fair fight. But in 2002, London-born tough guy Jason Statham flipped the script, delivering a knockout performance in the dim-witted, but thoroughly entertaining martial arts flick The Transporter.
When United Paramount Network and The WB closed up shop at the end of last season, uniting their efforts to create the singular “CW” network, it left a lot of television stations pondering their fate. Locally, for example, KWBQ-19 became the new CW standard-bearer. But where did that leave sister network KASY-50, the former UPN affiliate? Out in the cold, it would seem.
At the Donkey—In this case, it's perfectly OK to be an ass. The Donkey Gallery (1415 Fourth Street SW) is picking up the pace in preparation for the fall season. A new group of gallery collaborators made up of David Leigh, Larry Bob Phillips, Elena Agustin and Karl Hofmann will unveil an installation called Change Up this week. It will consist of site-specific drawings on the walls by the three dudes along with an architectural rendering by the lady. The installation won't be completed until right before the opening reception on Friday, Sept. 1, from 6 to 9 p.m. Also on display that evening will be city bus photographs by Donkey intern Maxwell Krivitzky. As always, expect some chow and live music at the opening. The show runs through Sept. 24. 242-7504, www.donkeygallery.org.
It's a well-known fact that some of the best contemporary art in the city is created by current or former students of UNM. The new school year just started, of course, and with it comes an exhibit of work from the freshest faces in the Art and Art History Department. A reception will be held this Friday, Sept. 1, from 5:30 to 7:30 p.m., and the show will run through Oct. 6 at UNM's Jonson Gallery (1909 Las Lomas NE). For further immersion, take part in a panel discussion with the artists on Tuesday, Sept. 5, at 5:30 p.m. Museum hours are Tuesday through Friday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission and events are free. For more information, call 277-4967 or visit www.unm.edu/~jonsong.
Question: What do cultural luminaries such as Paul Simon, Madonna and Demi Moore all have in their private collections? Answer: A piece of art crafted by Albuquerque native Cynthia Cook. Cook’s work has a unique style that incorporates tin work, Native American silversmithing, medieval chasework and repoussé to create haunting fabricated boxed worlds filled with nests, bones, insect wings and shells. Cook has exhibited her organic montages internationally but she is bringing her masterpieces back home for the month of September. The one-woman show will kick off with a reception on Friday, Sept. 1, from 5 to 8 p.m. at the Mariposa Gallery (Amherst and Central). The exhibit will run through the end of the month. For details, call 268-6828.
In the beginning, my brothers and I imagined they were as rare as Ferrari Testarossas, just as unlikely to turn up in our small Pennsylvania town. Yet we knew they existed. There was a whisper about the magazine racks at the slushy stand that said so. Playboy magazines were printed and bound and distributed to happy men all across America. We just weren’t allowed to see one. Until we did.
A couple weeks ago, we ran a guide to Albuquerque theater that left out several of the best and brightest movers and shakers on our local scene. You can place the blame for these omissions entirely on the bowed shoulders of Alibi Arts Editor Steven Robert Allen. If your theater or company isn't in this week’s supplemental theater guide, please feel free to e-mail your angry complaints directly to Steve at firstname.lastname@example.org. If you already made a complaint and are still not in either theater guide, send those complaints to Steve as well.
From Russia, With Love—Once people find out what I do for a living (you're looking at it), it's almost certain that a funny, sometimes emotional conversation about food will follow. It happens a lot, but no two are identical. Food is the great connector, intrinsically bound up in the fabric of every person's life, no matter what their background. Everyone's got to eat, after all.
I am amazed by how many truly great sushi restaurants there are in Albuquerque. Our fair city is strikingly cosmopolitan when it comes to cuisine, and nothing pleases me (and my raw fish-loving palate) more than the rumor of yet another place to get a good caterpillar roll, or a hot, salty bowl of miso soup sprinkled with green onions. Somebody should write Miso Soup for the Soul, because I’m buying, and I know you’re with me, fellow foodies.
Behind the scenes during harvest on a Napa Valley Vineyard
By Ashley Gauthier
“It takes a lot of beer to make wine.” I heard this expression at least a dozen times during my visit to a winery in Napa Valley, Calif. My friend Amy lived and worked on the vineyard, and I had a trip to San Francisco scheduled at the end of October. I thought it would be fun to take a few extra days to visit her in Napa.
Citizens of Earth! Nowhere in the great state of New Mexico do some many local and national music acts converge in one bustling metropolitan hub, on a single heroic night. We call it "crawling," and its never been more action-packed! Buy one flat-rate wristband ($10 in advance, $15 day-of-show) and you'll gain access to six hours of original, live performances this Saturday, Aug. 26.
Tom Udall’s been around the block a few times. Starting his nearly 30-year political career in New Mexico in 1978, he climbed the proverbial ladder as quickly as any aspiring politico possibly can. It started with an appointment as the assistant United Stated attorney for our state, followed by two terms as attorney general. In 1999, he landed himself a spot in the U.S. Congress, where he has remained ever since. This November, he plans on holding onto that seat.
A Thing Called Delusion--The untimely demise of two New Mexico soldiers last week, Leroy Segura and Jose Zamora, gave the local media a chance to lay down a thick layer of schmaltz similar to that of their big-city counterparts in those “Fallen Heroes” segments.
A gated community in the Northeast Heights found resolution to one chapter of its epic tale. Some residents consider it a victory for free speech. To others, it's rampant solicitation, the kind the people who live in the 485 houses of Towne Park pay to keep out.
APD Chief Ray Schultz finds police officer guilty of racial profiling
By Jerry Ortiz y Pino
Sometimes the most important news in a community doesn’t arrive with trumpets and a splashy press conference in front of television cameras. Sometimes the most important shifts in a society almost slip past us, virtually unnoticed.
New Mexico candidates reveal themselves … and it ain’t pretty
By Christie Chisholm
Last month, we announced in these pages that we were partnering this election season with one of the nation’s biggest and most respected voter-awareness organizations, Project Vote Smart [News Bite, “Vote Smart,” July 13-19].
Que lastima. What a shame. Three-term United States Senator and one-time Vice Presidential candidate Joe Lieberman made history again this month. In 2000, he became the first Jewish-American at the top of the American political ticket. Last week, he became one the few senators in modern U.S. politics to lose his seat in a primary. In Connecticut, like much of Democratic America, the natives were restless.
Dateline: Germany--A seven-member family is facing eviction from their east Berlin apartment after neighbors complained about the family’s loud prayer sessions, which are keeping the entire building awake at night. Neighbors told the German newspaper Bild the screams and singing that emanate from the family’s second-floor apartment sometimes begin as late as 2:30 a.m. and can be heard as high as the building’s fifth floor. “We have our work in the morning and need our sleep,” said taxi driver Horst Berghahn, who lives on the third floor. Berghahn said he has asked the family to lower the volume several times since they moved into the building 10 months ago, but has seen no result. “I really don’t want to disturb the neighbors, but the high volume is needed in the battle against the devil,” Pierre D., the 42-year-old father of the Christian family, told the newspaper. He is fighting the eviction in court.
The American public's widespread support of the death penalty is a badge of shame for multiple reasons. One of the most poignant is the irrefutable fact that innocent people are all too often imprisoned—and in some cases even murdered—by the state.
The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit, a story by Ray Bradbury, revolves around a conman named Gomez and his desire for a $60 white suit. Gomez and five other men pool their money to buy the suit. They then take turns wearing it, and it magically transforms each into the man he dreams of being. The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit will be playing at the National Hispanic Cultural Center, 1701 Fourth Street SW, Aug. 31 to Sept. 2, at 8 p.m. A free community outreach performance will be performed on Wednesday, Aug. 30, at 2 p.m. Tickets are $15, $20, $25. 883-7800, ticketmaster.com.
Rebecca Salazar’s movie-like childhood is rolling around inside her head, giving her a case of extreme nostalgia. She expresses her skewed sentimentality through painting. Her canvases are hanging at the Sol Arts Performance Space and Gallery (712 Central SE), and a reception will be held on Saturday, Aug. 26, from 6 to 8 p.m. Also at Sol Arts this weekend is Loose Women of Low Character, a theatrical collaboration between Brandy Slagle and Tifanie McQueen that will run through Sept. 17. Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m. $10 general, $8 students. A performance on Thursday, Aug. 31, at 8 p.m. will be a pay-what-you-can show. (There will be no performance on Sunday, Sept. 3.) For more information on either of these events, call 244-0049.
Shortly after moving back to his native Missouri Ozarks, novelist Daniel Woodrell realized he might need to give his wife, who hails from Cleveland, a few social pointers. “You are going to go into the store and try to write a check to pay for the groceries,” he recalls telling her. “And somebody is going to look at you and say, ‘Who are your people?’ I told her who to say—my grandparents—and her checks were always cleared.”
Popcorn and Pop Rock--On Thursday, Aug. 24, at 10:15 p.m., the Guild Cinema will host a special premiere screening of two locally shot music documentaries, “Welcome to Wherever You Are: Albuquerque” and “The Oktober People: Spring Crawl 2006.” The films feature live concert footage of Albuquerque bands The Oktober People, Scenester, Skinnyfat and much more. They also arrive just in time to give a sneak preview of the Alibi’s Fall Crawl 2006 (taking place this Saturday). There is a small cover charge of $3 at the door to help support future films and future music gigs here in Albuquerque.
Indie fright-fest opens the door on a chilly homecoming
By Devin D. O’Leary
A psychological drama with an emphasis on the “psycho,” Head Trauma is the second film from ultra-indie auteur Lance Weiler. Weiler’s first film was 1998’s The Last Broadcast. That no-budget horror flick received a brief hiccup of publicity for being: A) the first feature to be shot, edited and screened (via satellite) using solely digital technology, and B) a major influence on 1999’s The Blair Witch Project. Honestly, the first designation is the more significant. The Last Broadcast was assembled on home computers for a mere $900, making it an impressive precursor to today’s rampant digital filmmaking scene. (Both Last Broadcast and Blair Witch borrowed a healthy dose of inspiration from 1980’s Cannibal Holocaust, rendering that “who made who” debate a bit moot.)
I’m guessing kids have always liked gross things. I don’t recall too many fart jokes in Peter Pan oran abundance of snot references in the works of Charles Dickens. But that isn’t to say kids in the Victorian era and earlier didn’t appreciate a good gross-out. Boys, after all, are made of “snips and snails and puppy dog tails.” (The original Mother Goose compilation, published in 1916, used the phrase “snaps and snails.” Common variations include “snips,” “slugs,” “snakes” and “frogs.” I don’t know what a “snip” is supposed to be, but most of the other stuff is pretty slimy.)
Does anyone really care about the Emmy Awards? I mean, if you’re a castmember of “Desperate Housewives” you probably do. But is the life of the average American actually affected by who wins Outstanding Guest Actor in a Drama Series? I doubt it.
In the business of music writing, it’s easy to get inundated with information. CDs are shipped in, electronic press kits arrive for bands passing through town on tour and publicity reps clog up the phone lines with requests for review. Whether the music is any good, though, is anyone’s guess. Last week, someone plunked a DVD on my desk, ready for my viewing pleasure. The accompanying press kit was my first introduction to the Asylum Street Spankers.
It’s easy to see how bands from Albuquerque, and bands in general, can fall into a niche and stay there. Like contented fish swimming in a sea of local talent, they keep their day jobs, practice on weekends and play the bars when they have a free night.
Sunday, Aug. 27, Bandito Hideout (all-ages); 8:30 p.m., $6: Ruby Dee and the Snakehandlers are a band because, plain and simple, they enjoy each other's company. "You can hear that we like each other and that we’ve been working together for a long time," says Ruby Dee. She and the Snakehandlers have been playing roots, rockabilly and genuine country for the past four years. Ruby may write all the lyrics, she says, but the band is what really makes the songs come to life. "We all add something to the mix, and that's important," Ruby says. For this quintet, the "and" might be the most significant part of their name.
Monday, Aug. 28, Launchpad (all-ages); $8-$10: You needn't throw out your conceptions of emo, screamo and pop-punk when attempting to comprehend what Seattle's The Classic Crime brings to the table ... but your definitions might need some updating.
Sunday, Aug. 27, Bandito Hideout (all-ages); 8:30 p.m., $6: Ruby Dee and the Snakehandlers are a band because, plain and simple, they enjoy each other’s company. "You can hear that we like each-other and that we have been working together for a long time," says Ruby Dee. She writes all the lyrics, but the band writes the songs, she says.
The Return of La Crêperie Roulante--In addition to running Café Gee out of Atomic Cantina in the evenings, Richard Agee is reviving his La Crêperie Roulante cart for streetside lunch services. Richard plans to be back in his mobile kitchen with the original Crêperie Roulante menu from around 11 a.m.-3 p.m. weekdays, starting immediately. “Yeah, and no drunk-people sandwiches!” he says, referring to the fact that “some people” can't wrap their heads around what a panini is during bar hours. So he's returning to the perennial favorites while he can, in sober daylight. That means savory and sweet crêpes, a soup or two and, yes, those impossibly flat, pressed sandwiches. (Don't worry, drunk people. You can still get a Burque turkey inside the Atomic when the Café Gee kitchen is open.) When hunger strikes at lunch, look for his supercharged, shiny black food cart on Gold between Third and Fourth Streets.
We’d like to think that when Marlon Brando was getting ready to emerge on the set of Apocalypse Now he started gorging himself on something that was regionally specific. He wanted something that would keep him cool and satiated in the jungle, something that would soothe and excite his sizable abdomen when Francis Ford Coppola pumped him full of drugs after butchering cows and freaking out in front of Playboy Bunnies. “I don’t need to read the script,” he thought. “I just need another goddamn sandwich.”
Who the #@%* was Marco Polo? As we here at the Alibi are all about education, let’s do a historical sneaky peak. The famed name belonged to a globe-trotting Venetian merchant who went to China, met Kublai Khan, wrote a book, got kidnapped, got released and retired while sitting on a proverbial pile of cash. Then, of course, he lent his name to a fun pool game. It is reputed that our boy returned to Venice from China and was going around to his friends and neighbors bragging about his travels, only to have few believe his seemingly tall tales.
Throwing a contest is a lot like throwing a party. There's always some risk no one will show up, and you'll find yourself alone on your couch at 2 o'clock in the morning, filled with bitterness at your fellow man, nursing a fifth of tequila while watching infomercials for improbable exercise machines. We were a little anxious here at the Alibi about how our first scavenger hunt would turn out. We filled up the punch bowl, strung up the piñata, slipped some Sinatra onto the turntable and hoped for the best.
This is the list of people, places and things we sent out to scavenger hunt participants. The numbers in parentheses correspond to the points awarded for photographs of each item. Hunters were required to include their face(s) somewhere in each photo.
Some Albuquerqueans like to spread around the notion that our city doesn’t actually recycle. That, sure, we have recycling drop-off sites around town and big trucks come to haul away our paper, aluminum and plastic every week, but that they really just dump all that stuff in the landfill to rot for the next thousand years. Don’t pay any attention to those naysayers. They don’t know what they’re talking about.
The stereotypical blog is a monotonous diary of a person's daily activities and interests. Example: “8 a.m.—woke up to annoying alarm. 8:01 a.m.—hit snooze button. 8:16 a.m.—woke up and took the longest pee in my life ...” You get the idea. You also get to see shameful pictures of the blogger's drunk friends.
Tear this out, laminate it, frame it and hang it on your living room wall. Not only does this list of local numbers make a fine piece of contemporary artwork, it’s also extraordinarily useful. Also listed, whenever possible, are TTY and TTD numbers, as well as e-mail and web addresses.
A chat with one of the founders of New Mexico's Gay Rodeo Association
By Marisa Demarco
Bob Pimantel is the kind of guy who wears his light-colored cowboy hat and easy smile naturally. He's about to get a new title: grand marshall. Pimantel is one of three founding fathers of New Mexico's Gay Rodeo Association (NMGRA), and he'll be bestowed the fancy new moniker alongside Mark Marshall at this year's event for his major contributions to the rodeo's parent organization.
A task force's call for more strident penalties for New Mexico bars has been answered [News Feature, "Strong Medicine," July 6-12]. On Aug. 10, Gov. Bill Richardson announced amendments to the Liquor Control Regulations that tightened the rules, though it's not quite the squeeze many bar owners were fearing.
Overheard at a meeting of the Four Hills Neighborhood Association, held at the Four Hills Country Club: “We must do our part as our city grows. Industry must locate somewhere. I move we get an asphalt and concrete plant to build at the Ninth Hole.”
Being an indigenous person from Honduras left her with no other choice. Though she says her home country’s government fails to be as openly nasty toward indigenous peoples as, say, Guatemala, it's not above shooting protesters and removing fingernails in a most unpleasant manner.
“My father was the first indigenous doctor in Honduras,” she says. “He had his car blown up."
The car bomb was most likely the work of the government, she says. He survived.
Simultaneously duller than a chalk butter knife yet utterly terrifying, last week’s City Council meeting--the first after the Council's monthlong hiatus--oozed paradox. This mad beast meandered on for seven hours, testing the collective resolve of those with short attention spans, but the topics of discussion were far from boring. Floods, gentrification, crime, police brutality, the slow erosion of Duke City history and housing developments turned into illegal speedways were all debated thoroughly. One public commenter claimed city workers conspired to steal 13 of his dogs. Irate homeowners waged a war of words with a shifty cell phone company rep over a telecommunications tower impeding their view. The police department unloaded old German Shepherds at bargain basement rates.
We Need a Reason—We get spooked. In the wake of another attempted terrorist attack uncovered by the Brits last week, I, for one, was pretty creeped out. That might have something to do with my lack of faith in airport security.
Dateline: Canada--A judge in Newfoundland wasn’t buying a drunk driver’s argument that it wasn’t the rum in his rum and cola that caused him to kill a 15-year-old boy in a hit and run--it was the cola. According to the Toronto Star, Robert Parsons of St. John’s, N.L., remained silent as Justice David Orr found him guilty of failing to remain at the scene of an accident. “It is not the verdict I had hoped for,” Bob Simmonds, Parsons’ lawyer, said outside court last week. In March 2005, Parsons struck and killed Matthew Churchill while he was driving his car in St. John’s. At his trial, Parsons testified that he consumed three rum and colas before he got behind the wheel of his car. Parsons argued that he had no recollection of the accident and was in a “state of automatism brought on by a diabetic blackout.” Parsons will be sentenced Sept. 29.
Big 10—New Grounds Print Workshop and Gallery (3812 Central SE) is celebrating its 10-year anniversary this month. Stop by the gallery this Friday, Aug. 18, from 5 to 8 p.m. for live tunes, some delicious chow and special presentations by New Grounds members. For details, call 268-8952 or go to www.newgroundsprintshop.com.
For a city this size, it's amazing how much theater we have. Almost every weekend offers a fresh new batch of choices. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you're from or how old you are, theater is for everyone. Even if you don’t like a play, it sparks conversation, thoughts, feelings and a connection with others. Good, bad, funny or sad, every theater experience changes you in one way or another, so get out of the house and see theater this weekend, and the weekend after that, and the one after that, and ...
Take a trip down Route 66 to mosey around art galleries, listen to live music and snack on cheese, crackers and fruit platters. From striking still-lifes to unusual and richly painted law books that have been nailed shut, this Artscrawl has something for everyone. It'll take place on Friday, Aug. 18, from 5 to 9 p.m. at a gaggle of galleries along the old highway, such as New Grounds, Mariposa Gallery, Fisher Gallery and many more. Make sure to stop by Alphaville to rent a film or two and to watch Steve White’s live PEZ theater performances starting at 7 p.m. For more information, visit www.artscrawlabq.org.
Go Native on the Big Screen--The Native Cinema Showcase at the CCA Cinematheque in Santa Fe will kick off its sixth year this Thursday, Aug. 17. This celebration of indigenous media arts features groundbreaking films and videos by and about Native people. Thursday night begins with a focus on producer/writer/director Paul M. Rickard at 7 p.m. at CCA. Following a screening of two shorts (”Winter Chill,” “Aboriginal Architecture, Living Architecture”), author Beverly Singer will conduct an on-stage interview with the filmmaker. At 7:30 p.m. there will be a free screening of Native shorts at the Gary Farmer Gallery. At 8:30 p.m., it’s an opening night party at CCA Warehouse. Screenings will take place at the Farmer Gallery (131 W. San Francisco) and the CCA (1050 Old Pecos Trail) throughout the weekend. Highlights include The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros from the Philippines, Mohawk Girls and Johnny Tootall from Canada, Waterbuster and The Snowbowl Effect from America and Views from Maori Country from New Zealand. Log on to www.ccasantafe.org for a complete schedule of films and events. Tickets are $8 general admission, $6 CCA and NMAI members, $5 student and senior members. A $75 Patron Pass includes priority admission to all events and the Filmmaker Brunch. A $40/$35 Festival Pass includes priority admission to all films and the opening night party. For box office info, call (505) 982-1338.
An interview with directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris
By Devin D. O’Leary
These days, the “music video helmer-turned-feature director” has become a Hollywood cliché. But Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris don’t fit the stereotypical mold. For starters, they’re married. Secondly, instead of picking some hip, quickly edited action flick, the couple settled on the quirky indie comedy Little Miss Sunshine as their debut feature.
Quirk-filled comedy/drama takes dysfunctional clan on road to self-discovery
By Devin D. O’Leary
The “road picture” is, in many ways, the kiddy pool of the American filmmaking industry. Countless neophyte filmmakers have tested the waters of Hollywood with the inexpensive, anything-goes formula of a road picture. Pick a character or two, put them in a car and have them drive across America encountering as many random pit stops as they can between point A and point B.
At first, I was skeptical. I was weaned on comic books. I’ve got a garage full of “Captain America” back issues. I worship Stan Lee as much as the next True Believer. But a TV reality show in which people dress up in dorky costumes and vie for the chance to be America’s next great superhero? ... Well, it all sounded incredibly dorky.
KRS-ONE to Headline Fall Crawl!--Founding member of Boogie Down Productions and politically explosive, hardcore hip-hop icon KRS-ONE will--and there's no better way to put this—blow the fucking roof off of the Sunshine Theater come Saturday, Aug. 26. To be honest, he's going to scare the crap out of you. But you'll like it, I promise. Advance Crawl wristbands are $10 (they're $15 the day of the show), coming soon to www.alibi.com, Natural Sound (plus service fee) and TicketMaster (plus service fee). Stay tuned!
Sunday, Aug. 20, Atomic Cantina (21-and-over); Free: No matter how snide, hip and condescending indie rock is supposed to be, when it comes from San Diego, it’s going to sound a little bit like pop-punk sunshine. Even in Hot Like a Robot’s press photos, where the band has clearly been instructed to look cool and as though they’ve been brooding for days, it still seems a little forced.
with Blowupnihilist, Unnatural Element and Dirtybirdies//Group
By Jessica Cassyle Carr
Thursday, Aug. 17, Albuquerque Center for Peace and Justice (all-ages); 8 p.m., $5: Remember last week when we wrote about the Santa Fe recording studio, performance space and generally cool music collective, High Mayhem? Well, here’s an excellent chance for Albuquerqueans of all ages to sample some of their choicest goods: The Late Severa Wires, an “institution in High Mayhem’s philosophical and artistic development.” The group who last year provided the soundtrack for approximately 40,000 people at the Burning of Zozobra are taking time out from recording an LP, forthcoming in October, to demonstrate for Albuquerque their exceedingly strange sound collage.
Driving gypsy acoustic guitars, weeping violins, pulsing accordions and a singer with a penchant for soaring tragedy make DeVotchKa a gem in a world where popular music has taken a decidedly restrained approach.
Trilobite is 1) a jewel-like 540-million-year-old arthropod fossil, and 2) a terrific local outfit with cello, theramin, low brass and a rootsy, spiritualized timbre. One of them is always on display at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. The other is at Zinc Wine Bar and Bistro on Thursday, Aug. 17, with Selsun Blue. Just don’t confuse the two. (LM)
Krispy Kreme Leaves a Donut-Hole in Its Wake—Just five years after opening its doors in Albuquerque, the last of the city's two coveted Krispy Kreme shops failed to open Thursday morning. And every morning since. Susan Stiger wrote a rather poetic front-page eulogy in the Albuquerque Journal Saturday, stating that the company that owns the Albuquerque stores—as well as eight others in Arizona—has made a claim for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. In other words, the franchisers are out of business, not the Krispy Kreme corporation itself. It's still possible for another shop or two to take their place. But with slipping sales, stadium-sized pools of excess American blubber and more explicit health issuances from the government, the question is whether anyone will be willing to try again. Is there room for donuts in the 21st-century? Or are we in the midst of another health craze like we saw in the ’20s, when heritage recipes began to disappear and processed, faux-health food took their place? (In Candyfreak, Steve Almond mentions two chocolate-covered candy bars of the day made with dehydrated vegetable matter. One was called Vegetable Sandwich.) Your mouth is a minefield. Choose carefully what goes in it.
On the edge of Yellowstone National Park, Montana’s first buffalo hunt in 15 years is underway. For each licensed buffalo hunter there is a herd of observers. Hunting with an entourage only works if the prey doesn’t run away.
French food is misunderstood. In fact, it’s one of the most misunderstood styles of food here in the States. (Probably because many of us have grown up on the Bugs Bunny cartoons where the slinky, mustachioed waiter screams “oui, oui!!” every couple of seconds.) French cuisine is generally perceived as being too exclusive, with impossible-to-navigate menus and single meals that will cost you a firstborn child. How did we get here? Can we keep it real with French food?