Rollin' deep in the heart of the I.E. through the gnarled concrete arteries of 60+10+91 east to neon sunsets and Naugles, Taco Tia, the Mad/Friendly/Happy or Lucky Greek,The Menagerie, Spanky's, Butch's Grinders, The Denny's Cocktail Lounge at Hardman Center (in pace requiescat). We spell Paris P-E-R-R-I-S, bitches!
This Catholic Pinay lesbiana (on the Far From Heaven-side of butch) knows what “shonde” means. It’s Yiddish for shame, disgrace, pity or outrage. And I knew this before I peeped the definition thoughtfully provided on the website for queer dramarock sensations, The Shondes. I know what “shonde” means because—interfaith confession time—I fancied myself a spiritual Jewess the minute I saw Yentl on VHS and felt tingly about all the cross-dressing, carts of books and “like buttah” showtune meditations on female education and the Talmud. I was so moved by the sepia-toned, candle-lit, made-for-Barbra-by-Barbra exultations about desire, feminism and faith that the very next day I rushed to the B. Dalton bookstore across from WhereHouse Records at the Riverside Plaza to buy a copy of The Essential Talmud, and the collected works of Isaac Bashevis Singer. Drink it in here...
I knew it was deeper than my brief flirtation with the Baha’i faith circa the 7th grade. But I didn’t realize until much later what it all meant: all those grainy, black & white dreams of Brooklyn scored to the pizmonim-inspired harmonies of Fiddler, or those fantasies about being a stranger among them in Cicely, Alaska with Dr. Joel Fleischman on Northern Exposure. For this nerdy, only-child from Southeast Asia coming of age in the white, working-class suburbs of Southern California, Jewishness meant intelligence, humor, showtunes, culture and cute glasses. Not only did Jewishness (or at least the made for TV versions I encountered) compliment my own sense of strangeness and my own sense of ethnicity, but oddly—thanks to my belated, analog encounter with Yentl—it also told me something about my budding queer sexuality. Only two months before I came out as a big homo, my Yentl costume on Halloween was misread as “Shaolin Kung-Fu Master” by all the other college dorkuses around me. A shonde in so many ways. It seems no accident that I am currently employed in a Gender Studies program with an endowed "Barbra Streisand Chair in Sexuality and Intimacy." Someday...somehow...somewhere...
It’s because of this awkward sense of communion (pardon the Catholicism), and a recommendation from a McSwonderful friend that now, more than 15-years later, I have found The Shondes...
Read my complete interview with The Shondes atOH! INDUSTRY.
I know the Emperor's blogworlds have become quite confusing for all five of you loyal readers out there, especially with the recent debut of my collaborative project, OH! INDUSTRY. But rest assured the Emperor hasn't gone gently into that bedazzled night never to return to my very own 7-11 parking lot of lemonhead wishes and big gulp dreamz.
As many of you know, O!I is actually all about reliving nights in the parking lot with retroactive simultaneity, despite being spread out across different empires of the familiar. But for the sake of keeping things tidy (in the Virgoan way), I'll shelve things like this: personal posts and ruminations here on Inland Emperor, to go along with all of the archival suburban materials. There's bound to be overlap every now and then (Girl in a Coma performing in a suburban mall, etc.), so when that happens I'll keep the longer posts on O!I and offer a lead/link here to guide you over there. [Right: Whatever has become of me?]
But let's dwell here for now. In fact, the true inspiration behind today's Suburban zeitgeist alert is the December/January double issue of Dwell magazine (aka the style manual for creative class 'flipping') on NEW SUBURBANISM. Thanks muchly to JTizzle for alerting me to this. More to say at some other point, perhaps even in the book, about the heinous, and yet not-so-secretly alluring style culture promoted by Dwell and publications of its ilk. [Left: Mr. & Mrs. Hipster in New Suburbia] In the interest of full disclosure, I always thought of Dwell as a wannabe Wallpaper without the heft, literally and figuratively. That shit was THICK. Anyway, since my own lust for moderne design was first ignited by Wallpaper (and my born-in-to-modernism Deutsche ex), Dwell always seemed like the totally poseur rag to me. Of course I came to realize that I was actually the big poseur for thinking that I could seemlessly inhabit the very bourgie, and often very white worlds featured in glossy repose throughout such publications. Hence all the debt (and nice furniture) I'll be living with from here to tenure. I've resolved not to be a total hater, and by extension, a total hypocrite. So let me admit now that I am actually fond of the "design" ethos in healthy, non-prescriptive and budget appropriate doses. No more Design Out of Reach for me. [Right: Race as a hipster commodity. Let me entertain you...] Anyway, I don't want to be a total grumpus, and I've already prattled on about the stuff I said I'd talk about later ("heinous and alluring style cultures of modern design magazines"), so I'm going to tiny dance my way to a reparative moment. If anything, this month's issue of Dwell pointed me to what looks like a must-see exhibit going up in February at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis (February 2008), and continuing on to the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh (October 2008). [Left: Angela Strassheim's Untitled (Elsa), 2003, will be featured in Worlds Away.] Titled Worlds Away: New Suburban Landscapes, and curated by Andrew Blauvelt at the Walker, and Tracy Myers at the Carnegie, the exhibit features paintings, photographs, architectural models, prints, sculptures and video that bust apart what I like to think of as the suburan mythos at the heart of the American national imaginary.
In his Dwell interview, Blauvelt expresses the hope that Worlds Away will provide both reparative and "more provisional" approaches to the suburbs: "there are definitely pro and anti--or ambivalent--camps, but the stance isn't 'Oh I hate suburbia; therefore, I'm not going to deal with it.' It's more about how to intervene and interpret it knowing that it's a multibillion dollar industrial complex. It's that kind of shift that we're trying to hint at."
The emperor concurs. In short, it seems this project intersects with my Relocations book in generative, substantive, and yet non-threatening ways. I know I'm looking forward to taking a research trip to the exhibit this spring. Hopefully I'll have the opportunity to be in touch with both Blauvelt and Myers about it as well. In the meantime let's all dabble with the Walker blog's interactive feature: Tell us a story about your suburb.
Oh no not in spring time... Summer, winter or fall... No never would I leave you...at all... --"If Ever I Would Leave You," Robert Goulet Original Broadway Soundtrack to Camelot (1962)
The Emperor is saddened to hear that Robert Goulet, the man whose virile, yet approachable barritone made that showstopper from Camelot say something, passed away yesterday morning.
Goulet was the kind of guy you'd expect to hear while your parents (or grandparents in my case) sat around next to their slammin' hi-fi, sipping scotch and twirling their toes in the shag carpet. For many years Goulet's vocal talents and matinee idol dreaminess were eclipsed by the camp iconicity of his own abundant mustache. Case in point, Will Ferrell's hilarious Goulet sketches from SNL:
But for me he'll always be Lancelot--always that powerful voice singing over the crackle of grandma's hi-fi, promising it will never leave.
Sadly, I couldn't find actual footage of him singing "If Ever I would Leave You" to Julie Andrews in full Camelot regalia. But here's RG and another broadway diva, Barbara Cook, crooning tunes that will break your heart:
[Image Credit: Robbert Flick, photographer and Professor of Fine Arts at USC.] We're not affiliated, but nevertheless this might be of interest to some of you... Inland Emperors (September 8 - October 27, 2007) Reception: Saturday, October 13, 6-10pm dBA256 Gallery and Winebar 256 S. Main Street Pomona, CA 91766 909. 623. 7600
What distinguishes the art scene east of the 605 – okay, the 57 – is less its variety than its longevity. The Inland region is one of the cradles and incubators of California art from the inception of “hard edge” painting to the subsequent course of sculpture’s “ceramic revolution”. Inland Emperors, an exhibition celebrating this longevity and innovative artistic activity opens at dba256 Gallery September 8th and runs through October 27th. Inland Emperors is the inaugural exhibition for dba256 Gallery which is located in the heart of downtown Pomona’s Arts Colony.
Works by notable Inland Region artists include Karl Benjamin, Alexander Couwenberg, John Divola, Tim Ernst, Robbert Flick, Sant Khalsa (with poetry by B.H. Fairchild), Doug McCulloh, Thomas McGovern, Susan Rankaitis, Sandra Rowe, Paul Soldner and Larry White. Critical essay by Peter Frank. For more info, visit: http://www.dba256.com/352/index.html
************** At first glance, it's not the kind of I.E. art I'm necessarily interested or invested in. It's a bit 57-centric and I'm definitely more 6oFWY, but I'm guaranteed to make a research stop nonetheless. Plus, I actually really do admire Flick's work conceptually and aesthetically. I can't make the reception on the 13th, however, because of the ASA conference in Philly this weekend. Anyone interested in a Pomona adventure before the end of October?
I woke up this morning to Ben Affleck's face on my doorstep. Another sign of the apocalypse. And another sign that it's time to get crackin' on finishing (or starting to finish) Relocations. This month's issue of "Details" unfurled to reveal not only Ben's "serious face" and dewey chin-dimple, but a teaser headline about "Why the Suburbs are Cooler than Downtown" (?!?!?!?) Talk about zeitgeist. Or is this just more proof that The Secret works? Anyway, I could rant ad nauseum about why the article is lame and why the idea of a "cool style culture" relocating to the 'burbs is totally NOT what I'm saying in my project. People always assume.
But then I'd have to explain why I subscribe to Details in the first place. (Note to self: consider cutting wispy man-bangs off this week). In the meantime, check out the Details guide to the "hottest 'burbs" below. I'm sad/glad to see that the I.E. is nowhere to be found on the list.
FR. DETAILS, November 2007
THE CITY: CHICAGO THE ESCAPE: NAPERVILLE Naperville, 30 miles west of Chicago, has the character—innovative restaurants, independent shops, fairs and festivals—that the city has started to lose.
THE CITY: LOS ANGELES THE ESCAPE: MONTROSE Set in the foothills of the San Gabriel and Verdugo mountains, Montrose is just 20 minutes by car from downtown L.A. It feels more like a small town than a suburb—albeit one with a nationally recognized wine and cheese shop, Goudas & Vines.
THE CITY: NEW YORK THE ESCAPE: COLD SPRING An hour from Grand Central on the Metro-North railroad, Cold Spring has panoramic views of the Hudson River, good restaurants, downshifting creative types from the city, and proximity to the vibrant art scene of Beacon.
THE CITY: SAN FRANCISCO THE ESCAPE: MILL VALLEY Mill Valley: Across the Golden Gate, 10 minutes north of San Francisco, you’ll find a renowned farmer’s market, outdoor tai chi classes, redwoods, and canyons—and not a Gap store in sight.
THE CITY: WASHINGTON, D.C. THE ESCAPE: TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND Takoma Park, Maryland, one of Washington’s first suburbs, is more affordable than other neighborhoods and has a great variety of restaurants. It’s a little crunchy, but it’s hard to argue with the well-regarded schools and impressive music and arts festivals.
THE CITY: BOSTON THE ESCAPE: WALTHAM Twenty minutes west of Boston, Waltham is home to Brandeis University and has the sophistication of a college town without Boston’s hordes of overserved undergraduates. The restaurants around Moody Street provide city-quality offerings.
Looks like Riverside's signature Raincross (R), the civic symbol originally designed as a logo for the Mission Inn, has had something of a gangsta and Hot Topic-inspired crossover. My gal pal J-Stack (maiden name, J-Sto), must really be homesick for the 'Side now that she's professing in Binghamton, because she took time out during her first hectic weeks on the job to send me this:
As if there weren't enough raincrosses around Riverside, the ubiquitous bell and double-barred cross has been appropriated by gangsters, graffiti artists, and teenagers in general...
Riverside adopted the raincross as an official city symbol in 1968, and it is featured in the new city logo selected in 2005. More than an official emblem, it has seeped into Riverside's collective consciousness.The raincross is stamped in concrete overpasses, shaped into gates and fences, printed on the sides of garbage cans and on city street signs. Police patches feature a raincross. Businesses all over town use the image on their signs and stationery. The Mission Inn and downtown stores sell raincross ties, key rings, jewelry and more.The ladies wearing $2,500 diamond-encrusted raincross necklaces from Marden Jewelers might be shocked to hear it, but Riverside police often see gang members with raincross tattoos paired with gang numbers and letters.
Something tells me we'll be peepin' some of these on L.A. Ink in the very near future.
ALL VIRGOS ARE MAD The Emperor had a very lovely birthday in the I.E. that kicked off the Virgo season and sullied the Raincross in several ways. I'm not one to share felonious details, so let's stick to the horoscope stuff. Virgos have been going through a roughzodiacal patch lately (what with the eclipses in our sign and all the power, tumult, health issues and transition they bring), so I thought we all deserved a big Imperial shout-out and virtual hug! Here's the Virgo roll call as my calendar, ravaged liver and wounded pocketbook remember it:
Aug. 23 - Yours Truly Aug. 28 - Joon Oluchi Lee* Aug. 29 - Molly McG* & Rosi Pahl (ex-mutti out-law) Sept. 2 - JTizzle, Anjali A., and Ms. Mark Ng (who had a huge Three-Oh! bash at the Bungalow Club) Sept. 7 - Gabriela M. Sept. 8 - Alexis L. Sept. 9 - Marcia O. Sept. 13 - ML aka "Moe" Cheng Sept. 19 - sistah out-law, Helen Cutler
Hit me up on email if you'd like to be added to the roll call, or if I screwed up your date. 'Til then, lay low and let's soothe ourselves by re-organizing our cupboards (literally and spiritually) while looking at the stars and seeing how they shine for us...
*I accidentally flipped Joon and Molly's bdays. But as Ms. McSpiritFingers herself reminded me, she shares the 29th with "wacko Jacko," the artist formerly known as Michael Jackson.
INLAND EMPEROR reflects upon the spaces, times and (sub?)cultures of the smoggy expanse we call the I.E., with new reviews of old places, queer reviews of straight places, old reflections on new places, queer reviews of queer places, brown reviews of pale places, pale reviews of dark places, new reviews of new places, and lots of other crap in between, both related and un.
“shonde” means. It’s Yiddish for shame, disgrace, pity or outrage. And I knew this before I peeped the definition thoughtfully provided on the website for queer dramarock sensations, The Shondes. I know what “shonde” means because—interfaith confession time—I fancied myself a spiritual Jewess the minute I saw Yentl on VHS and felt tingly about all the cross-dressing, carts of books and “like buttah” showtune meditations on female education and the Talmud. I was so moved by the sepia-toned, candle-lit, made-for-Barbra-by-Barbra exultations about desire, feminism and faith that the very next day I rushed to the B. Dalton bookstore across from WhereHouse Records at the Riverside Plaza to buy a copy of The Essential Talmud, and the collected works of Isaac Bashevis Singer. Drink it in here...
Fleischman on Northern Exposure. For this nerdy, only-child from Southeast Asia coming of age in the white, working-class suburbs of Southern California, Jewishness meant intelligence, humor, showtunes, culture and cute glasses. Not only did Jewishness (or at least the made for TV versions I encountered) compliment my own sense of strangeness and my own sense of ethnicity, but oddly—thanks to my belated, analog encounter with Yentl—it also told me something about my budding queer sexuality. Only two months before I came out as a big homo, my Yentl costume on Halloween was misread as “Shaolin Kung-Fu Master” by all the other college dorkuses around me. A shonde in so many ways. It seems no accident that I am currently employed in a Gender Studies program with an endowed "Barbra Streisand Chair in Sexuality and Intimacy." Someday...somehow...somewhere...
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