Undeground 5.0

CONTENT

Issue 5.0

UNDERGROUND

Winter 2013

SAN JOSE’S INNOVATIVE & CREATIVE CULTURE

featuring:

Barbara Goldstein_Public Art Consultant

Life is Love_cinequest’s New FIlm

Susan O’Malley_local artist

Josh Shipp_teen trouble

Mark Cosio iminusd

UNDERGROUND

Sarah Austin Reality Show “Start-ups: Silicon Valley”

Sarah Garcia Marketeer

Sarah Hale Sustainer

Stacy Ernst Shaper/Blogger

Flora Moreno de Thompson Managing Editor

Mark Haney

Contributing Writer

Kat Bell

Contributing Writer

Alyssa Byrkit

Publishing Consultant

Justin Acosta Ad Guy

CCONTENT

Issue 5.0 “Underground”

Winter 2013

The Makers:

Mary Matlack Writer

Gillian Claus Writer/Editor

Ed Matlack Media Advisor

Jeff Gardner Designer Sean Lopez Designer

Brian Jensen Designer

JP Costanzo Designer

Britt Clyde Proofreader

Daniel Garcia Cultivator

In this issue we look at a few people who are going through transitions in their lives and get to see the circumstances that have led to those decisions. We also discover a few locals who have been practicing their craft for a while but now find themselves in the spotlight of Reality TV. Yet, there is more than simply going “behind-the-scenes” in the theatre or a TV show. As much as we like to keep it hidden, there is an Underground. The part of society that is not beautiful. The part that is ugly. Hard and dark. This part of society is very real and present.

In our one-year anniversary issue 5.0, we have the privilege to present two documentary films that San Joseans have been a part in producing. It is my desire that by hearing their stories and investigating their films, we all will be encouraged to apply our skills and crafts to make our society a better place. May we be lights of hope in our communities to expose what has been kept Underground

IN THIS ISSUE

Barbara Goldstein / Kori Thompson / Susan O’Malley / Cinequest / Tricia Creason-Valencia / iMiNUSD

To participate in Content Magazine: editor@content-magazine.com

Subscription & Advertising information available by contacting sarahg@content-magazine.com

8 SJC to SAN

10 Something From Nothing, Joe Carpenter

14 Artist, Kori Thompson

18 Artist, Susan O’Malley

24 Artist, Girafa

28 iMiNUSD, Mark Cosio

30 SJREAL, SJ Rep Prop Shop

34 Clothier, Ed Mosher Features

38 Promoter, Tommy Aguilar

42 Filmmaker, Tricia Creason-Valencia

46 Teen Mentor, Josh Shipp

50 Reality TV, Jen Kwapinski & Sarah Austin

54 Public Art Consultant, Barbara Goldstein

58 Life is Love, Cinequest Food & Drink

62 Underground Dining, Philippe Rey and Byron Westlund

64 Singlebarrel, Cache Bouren

68 Local’s Choice, Mohammad Gorjestani

Tommy Aguilar, pg. 38

Kori Thompson, pg. 14

Susan O’Malley, pg. 18

Kathleen Powell, Halfdan Hussey & Marcela Villegas Castanon, pg. 58

Hop on a plane tomorrow and explore with reckless abandon or plan every last detail—whatever your mood, here’s our take on one of many non-stop destinations served by our very own Mineta San Jose International Airport. Now boarding!

Need a break from San Jose’s wintry weather? Take the ninety-minute flight to San Diego International Airport and prepare yourself for some (almost) guaranteed sunshine. San Diego has all the makings of a perfect vacation: beaches, zoos, amusement parks, art galleries, nightclubs, hiking trails, and restaurants. Pack your swimsuit, but don’t forget tennis shoes and your party clothes. You can fit a lot of fun into a weekend here...

SAN DIEGO CALIFORNIA

Written by Jenna Clouse

Upon landing, you can’t help but notice the miles of beach and swaying palm trees along the edge of a hip and growing downtown. Though the trolley system is good, you’ll most likely need to rent a car—there’s a lot of terrain to cover. San Diego is home to a mix of eclectic neighborhoods waiting to be explored.

Start your morning by heading out to Point Loma (or “the Point” as locals call it), and stop at Con Pane Rustic Breads & Café where it’s all about the bread—delicious artisan bread. On the weekend, ask for the pane cioccolata—trust me on this one. Work off those carbs by renting a bike or rollerblades and ride the miles of paths along Mission Bay and Pacific Beach.

Head up to Normal Heights for antique shops and lunch. At Blind Lady Ale House, you’ll find pizzas made from seasonal, local ingredients, as well as a superb variety of craft beers. Vegetarians and vegans can find paradise at Jyoti-Bhanga, where the best reason to visit is the “neatloaf”—imitation meatloaf that even carnivores will enjoy.

SAN

Flight Time A flight from SJC to San Diego International Airport (SAN) is approximately ninety minutes. Flights leave San Jose daily.

With a zoo, performing arts, and museums to choose from, there’s something for everyone in Balboa Park. If you are ready for dinner, head south to the Golden Hill neighborhood, one of the city’s creative hubs. Counterpoint, dubbed “a place for people” by its owner Cam, invites you to come and enjoy the company of others. The emphasis on creativity is so strong here the kitchen staff tries something new and adventurous every week. If the pain frites are on the menu when you go, ordering them is a must.

The Gaslamp District downtown has an abundance of Italian restaurants, but beer-lovers should head to Little Italy for a gem called Bottlecraft. They have a huge selection of domestic and imported bottled beers, including a rotating selection kept cold for immediate drinking. They don’t serve food, but you’re welcome to bring your own. If you can’t decide what to order, try a flight of beer; selections change daily. Bottlecraft’s walls are home to short-term gallery installations, so make sure to admire the art while you enjoy your brew.

Sunsets are beautiful just about anywhere in this town, but for the most breathtaking views, take a stroll along the Sunset Cliffs stretching from Ocean Beach to Point Loma.

A weekend in San Diego is enough to give you a taste of what this beautiful city has to offer. There’s so much to discover, you might end up planning another getaway.

Check out flights to San Diego and beyond departing from SJC at flysanjose.com. Make sure to share your wanderlust by tweeting us with your adventures: @contentmag

Con Pane Rustic Breads & Café

2750 Dewey Rd. Ste. 105 San Diego, CA 92106

619.224.4344

Jyoti-Bhanga

3351 Adams Ave. San Diego, CA 92116

619.282.4116

jyotibithanga.com

Blind Lady Ale House

3416 Adams Ave. San Diego, CA 92116

619.255.2491

blindladyalehouse.com

Counterpoint

830 25th St. Ste. 100 San Diego, CA 92102

counterpointsd.com

Bottlecraft - Little Italy

2161 India St. San Diego, CA 92101

619.487.9493

bottlecraft.myshopify.com

URBANIST JOECARPENTER

SOMETHING FROM NOTHING

Written

by Mark Haney Renderings courtesy of HMH Adapted by sean Lopez

FOR JOE CARPENTER, THE EMPTY AIR

SPACE ABOVE HIGHWAY 280 IN THE BURBANK NEIGHBORHOOD OF SAN JOSE IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO CREATE SOMETHING SIGNIFICANT OUT OF NOTHING.

“USUALLY THE FIRST REACTION IS, ‘YEAH RIGHT, A PARK OVER THE FREEWAY.’ ALMOST 90% OF PEOPLE ARE PESSIMISTIC WITHIN THE FIRST 15 SECONDS, BEFORE I CAN EVEN FINISH THE SENTENCE.”

Since his arrival to San Jose in 1994, Joe Carpenter became the first president of the Burbank Del Monte Neighborhood Action Committee (NAC) as part of the Strong Neighborhoods Initiative (SNI). He served on the Board of Trustees for the Burbank Sanitary District, helping to reorganize and streamline the small 700-residence district. Through these appointments, he became well versed in the operations of local government agencies and learned the ins and outs of community work.

“I started asking questions like, ‘Why don’t we have streetlights?’” Carpenter says. The answers to his questions left him frustrated. “‘Because you’re unincorporated.’ ‘Why are we unincorporated?’ ‘Cause you are.’”

Carpenter began looking into having the city put in streetlights. “I was told I couldn’t do it, and I didn’t really take that

too well, so I went out and did it.” Carpenter secured approximately $600,000 in government grants, and antique streetlights were installed.

The ultimate project Carpenter has his sights on is the proposed construction of an urban park over Highway 280 between Bascom Avenue and Leigh Avenue. While Joe was NAC president, he was approached with the revolutionary idea. At the time he was skeptical, but Carpenter now believes it could rival the great parks of cities like New York, Chicago, and Portland.

“When I first heard it, I said, ‘Yeah okay, let’s talk about serious stuff, not dealing with a park over the freeway, because that’s not going to happen. It’s a great idea if we had buckets of money.’” Yet when he began to delve further into the proposal, it began to make sense.

The Burbank Del Monte area is one of the most densely populated areas in all of San Jose, but with the least amount of park space. In order to add parks in this area, the city would have to purchase properties, raze structures, and create open spaces, all of which carry very high costs. Though building a park over the freeway is expensive, money spent on a project of this magnitude would create not just a park for the neighborhood, but a destination in the city.

“I started thinking about it more, and once you get over the initial shock and look at it through rational lenses, the first questions are: ‘Has this been done before? Is it even possible?’”

There are several examples of this exact project being completed in Seattle, San Diego, and Portland. In Chicago, a neglected rail yard was transformed into

an urban jewel now known around the world as Millennium Park. It was built in 2004 and has become Chicago’s second most-visited attraction.

So how does a $200M park proposal get built in an era without a redevelopment agency and when San Jose is struggling to fund basic services? “We recognize that a park of this scale is not going to completely come out of tax dollars.” Millennium Park was funded by sponsors who bought sections of the park and paid for them to be built. Once construction was completed, the sponsors paid for ongoing maintenance of those sections.

Carpenter thinks “corporate sponsors would be champing at the bit to help fund a project of this nature.” Another avenue would be to seek funding from San Joseans who are passionate about leaving a legacy in the city. “A park is a perfect way to give

back to the community,” Carpenter says. “You can see your dollars in action every day.”

As it stands, the project is currently waiting for more organization. It requires a passionate group willing to take on the challenge of spearheading an effort of this magnitude. Just getting through steps like securing air rights from CalTrans and permits through the city will be time-consuming and tedious. Until this happens, the project is on the backburner.

Carpenter sees leadership as the biggest roadblock in San Jose’s progress.

“Why are people hesitant to get involved? They don’t know where to start, they don’t know who to ask because there are no clear leaders. People don’t participate in their neighborhood because they don’t have examples of people participating in their

neighborhood,” Carpenter says. “People need that from both community and political leaders.”

Carpenter suggests that residents of San Jose begin to think critically of government responses. “What I’ve learned is to really do your homework, and don’t assume that because it’s coming from the city, or the county, or the government, that it’s the end all be all. More often than not, they don’t know the right answer either.”

“Take ownership of your community. Whether it’s trash, whether it’s signage, whether it’s parks. Do your homework. Find your leaders, and find something you’re passionate about.”

ajcarpenter@gmail.com

KORi thompson

FROM GARAGE TO GALLERY: KORI THOMPSON

Written by FLora Moreno de Thompson

At first glance, Kori Thompson looks like someone you’d hang out with on a Friday night at a bar or local show. His large stature and booming voice make you pay attention when he steps into a room. But his physical presence isn’t the only thing that will catch your eye: Thompson’s paintings will, too.

Thompson has been drawing for most of his life, but he is a relatively new artist on the local art scene. He vividly remembers drawing with his dad as a child and is just as inspired by comic books today as he was back then. Thompson has been exhibiting his art in local shows and budgets time in his busy schedule to focus on painting.

How did you get started?

I’ve always drawn. My biological father, when I was a kid, was always drawing. And, it’s kind of dorky, but still I love comics. I still read comics all the time. I read regular books too, but comics are huge for me.

It was weird though, I really didn’t start painting until after I had kids. They’re six and seven now. But I don’t know what triggered it. I was like, ‘I never painted. I should start painting.’ I started painting in my garage. I tried going to a junior college and I took a drawing class. I didn’t finish though; they said it would take three years [to graduate]. I’m like, ‘What? To paint?’

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH YOUR TALENT, BUT I’LL BE DAMNED IF I’M GOING TO SIT AROUND AND NOT DO ANYTHING.”

So you are pretty new to the art scene then?

I’ve been doing art for probably four, five years now. The past few years I’ve been really getting after it pretty good. I’m focused on art, I’m always doing something. It’s almost like I don’t watch TV. That’s what I do now. I love it. It’s like an addiction I guess. If I’m not sketching something out, I’m thinking about or planning an art piece.

Even the guys at work are like, ‘How do you find time, man? How do you do that?’ When all my kids are in bed, I’ll cut away that time. I might be sleepy, but I’m going to lose some sleep and I’m going to get something done. It’s like a sacrifice, but it’s worth it. It’s fun. Now I’m better at balancing my time out. Now I’ll sketch some stuff out tonight and then I’ll finish it tomorrow.

I stay up and knock paintings out. It starts as a sketch, either in Sharpie or pencil and then I’ll write notes down, so I don’t forget. It’s funny, because I’ll always throw my notes out after I’m done with the piece.

Photography by Daniel Garcia

“IF I’M NOT SKETCHING SOMETHING OUT, I’M THINKING ABOUT OR PLANNING AN ART PIECE.”

Sometimes I’ll snap photos on my phone [of what I’m going to paint] so I have the proper lighting or angles.

Who would have thought you could paint a picture and somebody would say, “I want that and I’m going to pay this much for it”? I never thought that somebody would think that much of something I do.

How did you start showing your work?

The first time I showed my art was at a coffee shop in Sunnyvale. That was cool. My buddy David Ma came over to my house, saw my paintings, and asked, “What are you doing with these?” I’m like, “Nothing.” He said, “You should show your work. I’ll introduce you to some people.”

He introduced me to Anabella Pinon, curator at The Usuals. She’s really cool. Now we’re really good friends. She introduced me to the whole scene and lots of different art people. [The art scene in San Jose] is not like a competition or something. Everybody’s just super cool.

What are you trying to convey with your work?

Now, I’m trying to concentrate my work more on people, everyday people. I want to hone in on the people. That’s where I want my artwork to go. There are so many stories to be told. It’s always cool to sit down and have some beers with somebody or just whatever, just sit and talk to them. My grandpa is a perfect example. We’re super close. I like to sit down and listen to his old stories. There is so much to tell. I think, if you really get out and talk to people more, it’s a good thing. I don’t think people are doing it as much. As technology evolves, the human element goes away from it.

But, I want to have a body of work. That’s something I’ve always wanted to do. My mom used to say “Your dad was so talented.” But he didn’t do anything with it. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do with your talent, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit around and not do anything.

korithompson.net

Instagram: @kori15

Susan O’Malley

out

explore

meaning of

Susan O’Malley acknowledges the challenges of leaving her position as curator of San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art to explore her own work in visual arts. But after five years of working with an incredible team at ICA, O’Malley felt like she needed to give it a try.

Artist Susan O’Malley sets

to

the

happiness Interview and Photography by daniel Garcia

“I THINK OF AN AUDIENCE AS A CO-AUTHOR.”

You graduated from Stanford with a degree in Urban Studies. How has that helped you in becoming an artist?

Urban studies has always been an influence in the way that I see art, or think about my own practice. I’m intrigued by the idea of how and where we live, how we relate to each other, and our physical environment. Urban studies help me explore ways to think differently about the space we inhabit.

The residential project I did in San Jose in 2008 was all about that; I was fascinated with suburban spaces, and private and public spaces. By re-arranging what was already available, like leaves on a lawn or the frost on a house, I was able to bring some fun responses in relationship to everyday life.

In a text project I am doing, I am interested in how these spaces can be intervened through different texts. They might look a little like advertisements, but also part of it is an art project. I really love the blurriness of presenting work in this context because sometimes it’s not important whether it’s an art project or just something that happens in the streets.

What’s important is creating a space that will shift one’s perspective to see the world a little bit differently. How wonderful would it be if we could leave our homes and look at everything with a sense of wonder? Art has a way of heightening that experience for us.

So you were already thinking in terms of art space creation rather than going into city planning?

Focusing on community organization and working as an intern at non-profits, it took me a while to put it all together. I wasn’t really exposed to contemporary art as an undergrad. As a graduate, I started going to more art shows and seeing the flexibility and expansiveness in the way these artists were asking questions. It was exciting, and much different than an academic

way of viewing the world. It was a way of thinking I had never been exposed to, and it sparked a light in me.

How do you see the role of art in society?

That is such a huge question because there are so many different perspectives in the world. Art can help push us forward to be more radical, but it is not the answer for everything. It is just one thread of our cultural make-up. Art can help us see things in different ways, and help us relieve the stress of everyday life. Art heightens our sense of space and how we relate to each other.

We live in such an isolated way. The way we’ve organized San Jose, it is a pretty decentralized city. If there are ways to go downtown and see different things, and have a connection to that space, that will begin to bring people together in a way that is worthwhile.

What are you working on now?

I have been working on two projects as part of Montalvo Art Center’s exhibition with two other artists, Leah Rosenberg and Christine Wong Yap. It’s called “Happiness Is...” and it’s part of Montalvo’s 20-month theme, Flourish: Artists Explore Wellbeing.

One of my projects is a “Walk” on the Montalvo grounds. Along the walk, there are certain texts and signs that will hopefully help the walker be focused and reflective. Walking is such a simple thing that can make you feel good. It is amazing how altering your body can change your feelings.

The other project is creating a space within the gallery where people can sit down and talk to one another. One of the things I was most interested in this space was getting people on the floor, because being on the floor is so different than being in a chair; it brings a sense of groundedness. There is a lot of science behind what we do with our bodies and how that chemically

“I’M INTRIGUED BY THE IDEA OF HOW AND WHERE WE LIVE, HOW WE RELATE TO EACH OTHER, AND OUR PHYSICAL ENVIRONMENT.”

makes us feel different. This project is about how our bodies exist in the world, and how our bodies’ position and activity can change the way we feel.

Doing a project on happiness has been a fun process, as I had to think about what makes me happy. What it comes down to is trying to notice the small things. If we focus more on our current state of mind, on smaller things and the things that make us happy, and put those into practice— then, maybe we can be happier.

One of the things that I notice makes me happy is being in dialogue with people. Talking to other people and sharing ideas really brings me a lot of happiness. It’s something I need to focus on more. Just noticing that has given me more permission to pursue it as a practice. So rather than meeting someone for coffee and feeling good about connecting with them, it is actually what I do as my work. That has been a really interesting result of working on these projects.

Facebook: susan.omalley1 susanomalley.org montalvoarts.org

Check out Susan O’Malley’s “Happiness is…” exhibition at Montalvo Art Center’s Project Space Gallery through April 14, 2013.

GIRAFA: ON THE RIGHT PATH

Written by Richard Vo

Born and raised in the city of San Jose, Girafa has been writing graffiti across many Bay Area neighborhoods. It wasn’t until his conviction three years ago that he was forced to take time off for self evaluation. Since then, he has been exploring different mediums and coming to terms with himself on a personal level.

Photography by Chris Lovos

Creative Direction by Geoffrey Nguyen

“I believe my parents always knew I’d do something creative with my life. I’m really thankful they let me be me.”

How has San Jose influenced the artistic endeavors in your life and career?

San Jose is home base. I was raised here and influenced by local graffiti crews that run this city. Times have changed and with the relentless buff (term used to describe the attempts of city workers to paint over graffiti) and strict laws and punishments for graffiti artists, San Jose pushes you to work harder and take on more risks. I’ve taken what I’ve learned on the streets and applied it to my indoor work ethic.

To some, you are the most infamous and most beloved graffiti artist of the Bay Area. Do you feel a certain responsibility to the kids and your fanbase?

I feel honored that people enjoy my work. Being an artist, I spend a lot of time in solitude and don’t notice how it affects others since I’m so focused on what I’m doing. If anything, I would want them to follow their heart in whatever they feel passionate about and overcome any obstacles that stand in their way.

Who were your role models when you were growing up?

First off, my parents. My father taught me never to give up and to apply yourself. My mother took care of a lot of strays and pets, showing me and animals unconditional love. I watched a lot of cartoons growing up, so...definitely William Hanna, Joseph Barbera, Chuck Jones, Tex Avery, Bob Clampett and John Kricfalusi, Mestre Waguinho and, last but not least, my old friend Buckethead.

Would you say your parents were supportive of your artistic endeavors?

My parents have always been supportive, now more so than ever. (laughs) I kept it a secret as much as I could when I was painting on the streets, but when the news broke about my arrest I remember them saying “We knew you painted graffiti, but not to this extent.” Now my mom says “You found a way to turn lemons into lemonade.”

I believe my parents always knew I’d do something creative with my life. I was always playing [with my] imagination, locking myself away in my room drawing and I was definitely the black sheep of the family. I’m really thankful they let me be me.

Do you think that your work on the streets limited your full artistic vision, or was it just a different part of it?

Yes, working illegally on the streets can be very limiting; that’s where I became very fond of repetition. You want to get in and out before anyone notices or the police show up. I got bored with painting the same icon and started to migrate into other areas, still remaining within the giraffe theme and never veering away from it.

Some graffiti writers are about style, where I was more about a theme. I made it a point to primarily use the colors black and yellow which is the strongest color combination used for street signs to get your attention. Now that I work inside my studio, not feeling rushed or having to look over

my shoulder allows me to explore what I did in the streets and grow from that. So yeah, it’s different. There are things that I’d rather do in the streets and not in my studio, and vice versa.

Why the giraffe?

I was given the nickname Girafa which means giraffe in Brazilian Portuguese because of my height. It stuck amongst my friends. I’ve always been fascinated with alter-identities so when I was given the nickname, I took it seriously and later developed a character to go along with the name.

Before the giraffe, I was all over the place with my art. But once I discovered the character, it felt right. Giraffes are such unique creatures. Also, it’s fun to pretend to be something or someone else. I’m able to get back in touch with my inner child, which some of us tend to lose sight of as we grow older.

On a deeper level, what do you think it is about alter-identities that fascinates you so much?

I was adopted at a very early age, which leaves a lot of questions about who I am and where I came from unanswered. I needed a way to fill in the blanks so creating alter-identities gave me the ability to create my own story—which became my personal way of dealing with my past. The thing that fascinates me the most is the mystery that surrounds the person. Graffiti is all about that, which is part of why I was attracted to it.

Do you think you’ve learned more about who you are with your experiences and through art?

Yes, but I’m always a work in progress. I don’t regret any of my choices. I’d say in the last few years, especially my time spent on house arrest, I did a lot of reflecting, searching, and reading as to what’s my purpose for being here. I strongly feel each of us has a purpose to fulfill whatever it may be.

I don’t believe in bad circumstances, only lessons to learn and grow from. It’s crazy how you can trace all the steps that led you to where you are today, and the signs the universe will present to you so know you’re on the right path. When I’m in my studio alone creating work, it’s definitely therapy. Even though my work is fun and colorful on the surface, I spend the whole time working shit out in my head.

Ultimately, how do you want to be remembered?

What an awkward question for me to answer. Honestly it’s really not up to me. I’m only responsible for myself and I have my own expectations to live up to. It’s hard to already come up with how I want to be remembered when I’ve just begun.

“It’s hard to already come up with how I want to be remembered when I’ve just begun.”

iMiNUSD: A BIKE SHOP FOR EVERYONE

iMiNUSD has grown by leaps and bounds since it first began as a bike rim company a few years ago. It has now evolved into a successful bicycle shop specializing in fixed gear bikes and accessories. Besides having a brick and mortar shop, they also have an online store and distribution center. “We ship worldwide every day,” says Mark Cosio, co-owner of iMiNUSD.

Written by Flora Moreno de Thompson

But Cosio’s foray into bikes was originally an economic one: Cosio started riding a fixed gear bicycle because he didn’t want to pay for parking while going to school at SJSU. The parking permits are expensive and “it wasn’t even guaranteed that I’d get a spot,” he says. It just made sense for him to ride to campus instead.

In late 2006 he formed San Jose Fixed Gear, an online community for fixed gear enthusiasts like himself. “It was a way for cyclists to meet other cyclists,” Cosio says. “Something for the community, straight up.” SJFG became a forum for people to announce rides, meet new people, and talk about all things fixed gear.

In 2009, iMiNUSD opened up the shop along Paseo de San Antonio in downtown San Jose. “The main reason we opened is that there were no other shops that catered just to fixed gear,” Cosio says. “Anyone getting into fixed gear had to buy parts online. We wanted to give riders a place to see parts and ride them, and maybe even buy them.”

That element of doing something for the community is still important to Cosio. In

conjunction with SJFG, his shop hosts weekly rides, usually departing from iMiNUSD. “On a Tuesday and Thursday, you just show up with a bike and you can leave with 10-15 new friends,” Cosio says.

“Our shop is so completely different from a typical bike shop,” Cosio says. “We don’t just sell bikes –– it’s a lifestyle, and friends, and a whole social community.” Besides hosting weekly rides, iMiNUSD also holds trick competitions, street races called alleycats, and gold sprints, in which two cyclists compete on stationary bikes in 30 second sprint races. “We also throw pint parties,” he adds.

“When I first came here, I got scrutinized so hard because I’m not the typical bike shop owner,” Cosio says. But, if interacting with customers through social media, hosting parties and barbecues at the shop, and encouraging people to get out there and ride is not typical of a bike shop owner, then Cosio is doing it right.

Cosio plans on expanding the store’s inventory to cater to other cyclists besides just fixed gear riders. “We’ll expand into selling cruisers and road bikes for more serious

riders,” he says. “We’ll still have fixed gear because that’s our main thing.”

When asked why fixed gear is so popular in San Jose, Cosio credits our city’s streets. “It’s so flat here in San Jose, and we have pretty good roads for being a downtown.” He thinks businesses should encourage people to ride their bikes downtown and take advantage of the wide bike lanes. “I’d love for everyone to get back on a bike.”

Photography by Daniel Garcia

“WE WANTED TO GIVE RIDERS A PLACE TO SEE PARTS AND RIDE THEM, AND MAYBE EVEN BUY THEM.”

UNDERGROUND THEATRE GETS REAL:

When a show needs realistic blood effects on stage, Rebecca Willis’ first response is to ask a series of questions. As property manager at San Jose Repertory Theatre, it’s part of her job. Which part of the body needs to have blood on it? Will it go in their mouth or be hidden in their costume? Should it be washable, runny or remain in a puddle? Does it appear gradually or immediately, like with a gunshot? Should the effect be funny, startling, or horrific?

With the answers to these questions in hand, Willis can design the effect for the play. Obviously if the capsule has to be in an actor’s mouth, it needs to be edible. There are so many good products available, but she prefers Ben Nye Zesty Mint Flavored Stage Blood.

“The most common type of blood rig I make is a small saran baggie of stage blood, sometimes called a ‘squib’,’’ says Willis. When burst by a punch, the blood will appear to come from the actor’s mouth or nose. She makes her own gel caps for occasions when an actor has to spend a lot of time onstage without leaving and doesn’t have an opportunity to put anything in their mouth. That way, actors can keep the capsules in their mouths, biting them open when the effect is needed.

Behind the Scenes at San Jose Rep’s Prop Shop

Written by Gillian Claus

Like any effect, blood can go wrong— sometimes spectacularly. Willis once worked on a production of Dracula with a rigged wooden stake that would spray out two feet up into the air when hit with a mallet. During a technical rehearsal, with all of the actors on stage, they brought out the stake and tried the effect for the first time. The blood shot 20 feet into the air and rained down on everyone and everything on stage. “There was so much blood and it was so shocking the entire theatre went completely silent for a moment and then finally burst into laughter,” says Willis.

Victims for this photoshoot all come from San Jose Rep’s Emerging Artists Lab, aka SJREAL. Budding Bay Area actors, directors, playwrights, and theatre professionals present late-night, cabaret-style underground theatre after the main stage shows on Friday and Saturday evenings.

sjrep.com/experience/real

Photography by daniel Garcia

Peter Hsieh

Peter Hsieh is a playwright and director from San Jose. He has written 30 plays since graduating from the University of California, Irvine with a B.A. in English Literature and many of them have received productions, workshops, and readings at different theaters and festivals. His most recent credits include his play, The Vacuum Salesman, at the North Park Playwright’s Festival, Sunday Sundays at the Fringe of Marin One-Act Play Festival, an independent production of his play Game Plan / Floor Plan and directing Christopher Chen’s A Game for San Jose Rep’s Late Night Series.

peter-hsieh.com

Steve M. Boyle

Steve M. Boyle has directed off-Broadway editions of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark and The Winter’s Tale. A member of San Jose Rep’s Emerging Artists Lab, Steve last directed for the Patron Lounge an adaptation of the1603 “Bad” Quarto of Hamlet: an Elizabethan-Era Bootleg. At NYU, Steve directed an adaptation entitled The Winter’s Tale, Part I at The Robert Moss Theater. He has assistant directed for Rick Lombardo at San Jose Rep, Marco Barricelli at Shakespeare Santa Cruz, and Bob Moss at Shakespeare Santa Cruz. He has trained in global theatrical forms at Bangalore, India; Bangkok, Thailand; and on the island of Bali in Indonesia. BFA: New York University. Steve assistant directed Rick Lombardo’s A Christmas Carol at SanJose Rep.

stevemboyle.com @SMBoyleLife

Jomar Martinez

Jomar Martinez is a senior at San Jose State University pursuing his BA as a special major in musical theatre. He has recently been seen in San Jose Rep’s Production of A Christmas Carol. Some of his other credits include Lloyd (Company One presents: NERDS!), Luke (Anything Goes) with Cabrillo Stage, Dan (Company One presents: Purple Thunder! ), Rooster (Annie) with Sunnyvale Community Players, and Glen (Wonder of the World) with SPOTLITE Stage Company.

jackmar291@sbcglobal.net

Tunuviel Luv

Tunuviel Luv is a special blood effects designer and sideshow performer based in San Jose. Her work has been seen on stage with many Bay Area theatre companies including Shotgun Players, Impact Theatre, Renegade Theatre Experiment, Palo Alto Players, and Crowded Fire as well as in Theatre Bay Area Magazine

tunuviel@gmail.com

Ed Mosher: an Icon in men’s clothing

Mosher’s Limited

Written by Shona Sanzgiri

A gusty wind blows. A man enters the store, Mosher’s Limited, in the corridor between Plaza De Cesar Chavez and South First Street towed by his Blackberry. With neck crooked, he sighs into the phone and announces: “I’m looking for dress clothes.”

The proprietor turns and sizes the man up. For the last twenty minutes, Ed Mosher has been rummaging through an archive of photos from his store’s illustrious past, as well as his own: matte photos of silver screen legends, black and white advertisements, a wedding certificate.

Mosher begins the charm offensive. In ten minutes, a transaction is made.

Ed Mosher is not boasting when he says he’s an icon—it’s a plain fact that bears repeating. Despite his 83 years, he maintains a robust patina: small eyes with a feline shimmer, hair chestnut brown and very fine, a body in constant motion. He dresses in a style that was once considered young, though he is not.

That style, known as the Ivy League look, speaks of a particular form of transatlantic nobility. Characteristic of the storied WASP, old money, or the privileged academic, it is a balancing act hemming the line between cosmopolitan and the familiar. An Ivy League outfit is natural, breathable, a touch informal, sometimes roomy enough to swim in. There’s little frill or posturing. It’s comfortable. It looks good because it feels good—what could be more American?

The hedonism of such fashion was championed to the extent that it did so with zero restraint. Casual suiting was replaced by t-shirts and distressed denim. If men wore button-down shirts, they ballooned at the waist, or were left untucked, highlighting a phantom gut. Insouciance fell victim to slop.

Mosher rues this, and most trends, recalling San Jose before the silicon. In 1955, the San Jose State graduate opened his first store on the campus of his alma mater, later expanding to Stanford, Cupertino, and Los Gatos, all exclusively carrying the Ivy League look. Two women’s stores were soon to follow.

Each of the locations delivered on the promise to merge finery with a relaxed aesthetic, an elegant precursor to the abomination that is “business casual.” This fit well with the South Bay’s rise as technological nerve center. At the time, however, the only computer company in town was IBM. And they held some positively conformist notions.

“You did not go to work at IBM without a jacket with natural shoulders, a woven silk tie, button down-shirt, and black socks,” Mosher says. And not just any pair of black socks, but highrise ones that extended past the calf. Garters were probably involved. As Mosher remembers, a young man arrived one afternoon in search of the right pair, and with good reason: “It was his first day on the job and his boss said, ‘Don’t come back without those socks!’”

Ed Mosher is not boasting when he says he’s an icon. it’s a plain fact that bears repeating.

Mosher was drawn to the inherent theater of fashion, a motif that features throughout his life. His memories retain a dramatic flair, retold as minor epics, and more than a few beg clarification—points at which Mosher gently restates himself without a wink, or even a hint of how otherworldly and charming this all seems.

Photography by THomas Webb

Before graduating from San Jose State with a degree in drama, he was a traveling magician, performing at USO tours during WWII. He learned what it meant to be a performer from his mother, a singer who stepped down as the “World’s Greatest Contralto” to move to California with her husband, a clothing store owner whose love of menswear didn’t make much of an impression on Ed Jr. until the mid1950s. By then, he was donning a different uniform.

“I joined the Marine Corps and went straight to training in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. It was there that I discovered the Ivy League look. I never felt so good in clothes in my life,” he says.

A career in keeping up appearances? Not a stretch today, and it wasn’t then either. He remembered his father’s store; here was a chance to go into business.

Though promised a production job at Warner Bros. on his return, the twenty-three-year-old still wanted to act. “The problem was: I wasn’t a good actor. So I thought if it wasn’t going to be theater, then it was lights, camera, fashion!” he says. The day before graduation, Mosher’s unit was notified of their deployment to Korea. The anxiety he felt as a cadet was short-lived—the next evening, in the middle of their graduation, the Korean War came to a halt. And Mosher would spend the next two years drifting through the Mediterranean.

‘Hollywood’ look—giant pleats, big shoulders, and it looked awful. That’s what my dad was carrying. I knew I would have to start my own thing,” he says.

His first shop was near where the Martin Luther King Jr. Library now stands. Supply was low, and interest was lower. “People would come in and look at these ‘funny’ things. We had crew neck sweaters. Imagine people not knowing what a crew neck was!”

When Playboy ran a feature titled “Ivy League Look Taking Over the Country,” San Jose couldn’t get enough. “People ran into my store and said, ‘Ed, you predicted it!’” he says. After the article ran, the magazine contacted Mosher about sending a Playmate to host a Playboy Party—the first of its kind. In a series of

The downturn began once healthy relationships with different manufacturers soured, as many cottoned to the whims of larger clients.

“It became hard to get the right merchandise. Our main suit company was in New York, and they helped us grow. Then Nordstrom went in. Overnight, they accounted for more than 50% of their business,” he says with detectable ire. “If the buyer is in bed with a manufacturer, he’s taking him out to dinner, buying him Broadway tickets, entertaining his wife— he’s beholden to these people.”

Though he couldn’t blame them, neither of Mosher’s sons were interested in joining the family business. By the 80s, everything became a little too brazen for his tastes: power suits, shoulder pads, bad hair, football-sized car phones. Mosher reeled in completely, closing all of the stores except the downtown San Jose outlet.

“It was a rough life,” he chuckles. With his wife staying with friends in Paris, Mosher began a tour that evokes the journals of Graham Greene or Ernest Hemingway. “From Algiers, we landed in Malta with the British. Then Libya with the French Legionnaires—when they still existed. Then against the Turks,” he recalls, staring offhandedly at the table before him. The exotic deployments multiplied, as turmoil loomed in the distance. The newlyweds vacationed in Cuba, enjoying the Havana nightlife and the island’s last pre-Communism Mardi Gras fête, months before the coup that would put Fidel Castro in power. Spending the last of their savings on a cross-country road trip, Mosher returned to San Jose with the dream of going into business with his father.

“I said ‘Look dad, you’ve got to get rid of all this crap.’” Mosher says. “At the time, downtown San Jose was home to thirty-two men’s stores that carried the

photos from that day, a crowd of young men are gathered in front of the store. Handsome, corn-fed students in military haircuts wearing plaid print shirts and square rimmed glasses, eyeing the blonde Playmate.

Mosher is there too, speaking into a microphone, hair neatly parted, transmitting the same charisma that would lead him to become a champion of small business organizations, local theater groups, fraternities. The photos are more representative of a time than a place; they’re a glimpse into another San Jose, a world known to a scant few.

Those photos also represent Mosher’s glory days. Soon after he’d moved locations, expanding to meet the growing demand. He indulged his passion for theater with regular visits to Manhattan, and was advertising in Newsweek and Sports Illustrated

And that’s where he’s been for over twenty years—shelved away, thriving somehow, though largely ignored. What’s in it for him?

“Once you get me onto something, you can’t get me off. Plus I get a free lunch at the Fairmont’s employee cafeteria. That’s a perk.”

Asked if change is good, he dwells on the question for a long time. “All that’s left in this country are the names and the distributors,” he says. “Fifteen years ago I prided myself on having everything made in America and England. But we’re struggling to keep up. So change is inevitable.”

It’s a predictably diplomatic answer, but then he surprises: “The stuff from Vietnam or Malaysia is sometimes even better than here,” he admits.

Mosher walks everywhere, having given up driving in 1989. He goes out all night, every night. “The theater, mostly. Sometimes I take people out. I’ve got all these customers who are dying!” he muses. “But I can’t.”

Every day someone comes in here and says, ‘Oh my God, this is just like a store from my hometown. It’s gone now.’”

Mosher’s Ltd.

170 S. Market St. San Jose, CA 95112 408.286.7065

“I discovered the Ivy League look, and I never felt so good in clothes.”

Music Promoter and Man Behind The Pagoda

TOMMY AGUILAR : SPEAKING TO THE

The man behind Universal Grammar helped bring Kool Herc and DJ Jazzy Jeff to his hometown. He’s felt the elation of a successful club run coupled with the sobering lows of watching fickle audiences grow disinterested in his message. Through it all, he’s remained a believer in the potential for the arts in San Jose, and past run-ins with tear gas and revolutionaries continue to inform his creative process.

Written by Brandon Roos

When Tommy Aguilar came across the words “universal grammar” while perusing a Noam Chomsky text in the library, he knew he had finally found the right phrase to sum up his mission.

Though he admits he’s never finished reading the linguistic theory that is his brand’s namesake, he does clearly recall just what the words meant to him the first moment he saw them. They captured exactly how he felt about music and conveyed everything he hoped to present with his shows.

“I’ve always felt music was the universal language,” Aguilar outlines. “Conveying this universal message through art and music was my way of connecting to people, creating culture for people on a universal scale.”

Aguilar, a local promoter and community builder 15 years into a self-sustained career, remains a key tastemaker in San Jose. He’s brought ?uestlove, Talib Kweli and Little Dragon to town, but many may not know that his favorite events were actually literary—engagements with authors Jeff Chang and Pulitzer Prize winner Junot Diaz. He may be dealing with The Fairmont now, but don’t think that his activist mindset, molded by a West Valley College educator, has worn off.

Born and raised on San Jose’s Eastside, Aguilar’s passion for music emerged through hip-hop. He didn’t need to look far to build his obsession with beats and rhymes, as Star Records, a key South Bay music destination at the time, was located just down the street. He was among the kids who would hang out in front of the store, hoping to snag an autograph from the rappers who happened to pull up. Among those early visitors were the Fat Boys, Masta Ace and Biz Markie. After years of haunting the premises, his dream came true when he landed a job at the record shop in his teens.

“I’VE ALWAYS FELT MUSIC WAS THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE.”

Photography by Daniel Garcia

Drawing from a stable of rapper friends and an obsession with L.A. underground hip-hop, Aguilar put on his first show at West Valley College in 1998. The event was a hit, even though Aguilar admits he had no idea how to put on a show at the time. He organized two more shows in successive years. While planning for his fourth, Aguilar received a call from, in his words, “another institution I had always revered from afar”: MACLA. They asked him to present a vision for a show in their space.

“I wrote something up, a vision statement basically,” Aguilar recalls. “I wanted to do an art and music event for younger folks downtown. At the time, it was unprecedented. There was nothing else going on that hit that audience.”

The Director of Programming loved his proposal, and his event featured several graffiti artists that have gone on to further national and local success. It was a runaway hit for both him and MACLA, and after a continued string of success in the space, he was given the opportunity to rent out the MACLA facilities to people like himself. The job started a partnership with MACLA that lasted for close to a decade.

Aguilar’s artistic vision always measures out context and historical significance. He recognizes a need to honor music’s legacy while looking forward at the same time—upcoming tributes to both James Brown and hip-hop production duo the Neptunes are great examples of this dynamic. It’s a notion he feels is being lost on the next generation. “You can’t go forward without knowing your past, and I think that’s lax in music today,” he says. “A lot of young kids, they love their EDM, but they don’t know the roots of it. They don’t know that techno and house were created by African Americans in Chicago and Detroit.” As he knows, music only tells half the story, and the crowded shelves in his room, packed full of anthologies and artist biographies, reveal his investment in that spirit.

His stint at MACLA led to an interest in entering the nightlife scene, and a partnership with Agenda Lounge soon developed. With his business partner, he created a night called Stank. Word spread through his well-designed flyers, and in his watershed summer of 2003, he was able to book both ?uestlove, drummer and leader of hip-hop group the Roots, and the legendary DJ Jazzy Jeff. These shows ushered in the Serato era for deejays in the South Bay. By September, carrying records into a club was obsolete.

An overlooked key to Aguilar’s outlook and approach to programming remains his involvement in the 1999 WTO globalization protests. West Valley paid for him and a few other students to fly to Seattle to take part in the events firsthand. He didn’t tell his parents why he was headed to Seattle. When they found out, they demanded he come home, but he relented. His choice was the full realization of the progressive ideals he had learned from educator Tom Moniz, whose classes at West Valley taught Aguilar to become more politically active. “I had to be directly active in this movement,” remembers Aguilar. “I didn’t want to read it from a book. I didn’t want to look at it in a paper from afar and be like ‘I support that. I’m about that.’ I wanted to be that.”

When he returned, Aguilar’s emerging political beliefs continued to stir up issues with his father, a former Vietnam vet who served in the Army. He once recalls hanging the American flag upside down in his room, which his father tore down later that day. He offered an ultimatum: hang up the flag like that again, and you’re out of the house.

Though his Universal Grammar mission rolls on, his parents and girlfriend still urge him to find more stable work. The lows of his line of work remain vivid. He still remembers the fallout from his runs at Agenda and Voodoo well. “That’s the thing about being promoters,” he admits, “You book a show and sometimes you can lose your ass. It keeps you underneath for a while.” But Universal Grammar is about much more than just entertainment. It’s about offering thoughtful, compelling content that speaks to others and celebrates the potential for change that art and music pose for the world at large. It’s work he almost considers a duty.

When asked why he has decided to remain in San Jose despite the ups and downs it’s presented him over the years, Aguilar doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Why am I not in LA and San Francisco doing what I’m trying to do here in San Jose? Because those cities don’t need it.” His activist self takes the forefront once more —the battleground for change remains in the heart of Silicon Valley. “San Jose needs it. That’s where the work is needed most.”

Most recently, Aguilar has been celebrated for his curatorial vision at The Pagoda, a former restaurant located inside the Fairmont hotel. It’s a space he

has been able to shape creatively through his “Live at The Pagoda” series, a name locals have come to rely on as a co-sign for progressive artistry, regardless of name recognition. The Fairmont has taken note of Aguilar’s success with the series, and they are in talks with him to bring his programming to other hotels. With the right act, he may even be able to construct a Fairmont tour.

The irony of now being aligned with an entity like The Fairmont is not lost on Aguilar, but he maintains his approach to programming remains the same.

“Obviously now, I’m at The Fairmont and it’s a corporate situation,” he admits. “But I feel like I’m still being revolutionary in [my] thought process. I think that’s stayed with me.”

Though he’s been successful with his programming at The Pagoda, a venue that’s essentially allowed him to curate his own content, he admits there’s still a ceiling involved with the partnership. To program fully on his terms, Aguilar knows he needs his own venue, but finding that room in San Jose, one with state of the art sound and lighting, is another task altogether. Aguilar remembers a close call back in ’04, when that room almost had a chance to be born.

Along with Chris Esparza and Brendan Rawson, both longtime mentors, Aguilar was considering a spot in Japantown in the space that’s currently State of Grace Tattoo. They had the money to invest in state of the art sound and lighting, but after fire regulations shut down the thriving Sofa Lounge, a similar upstairs space, that same year, the three knew their budget would be lost on retrofitting before they’d even have a chance to install the sound and lighting they needed. Since then, the search has continued.

“Where is it?” he asks rhetorically. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

With work still to be done in his hometown, Aguilar trudges on with his eyes on potential spaces, hoping to one day fully construct a room where he can continually present acts that speak to the feet as well as the heart. Maybe then his mission will be accomplished.

@ungrammar ungrammar@gmail.com

What do you get when you take a 6-foot, well-educated Latina from a loving, ultra-liberal family in Orange County and send her to Northern California? You get the force of nature that is documentary filmmaker Tricia Creason-Valencia.

Written and Photographed by daniel Garcia

So, tell me your story. Why documentaries?

I grew up watching films with my dad. He took us to see “The 400 Blows” by Truffaut before I could read—he had to read me the subtitles. We were liberals in Orange County, so in some ways we were “otherized.” My dad was very politicized. He was a social worker, and we were raised to believe that you should give back to your community.

I went to Berkeley and was always really interested in political activism—women’s issues, the Chicano community. I didn’t have a conception of what a community organizer was, but knew I wanted to work in grassroots politics.

What’s your cultural background?

I’m definitely bi-culturally identified. My dad’s Anglo, my mom’s family is Mexican American. I started studying Spanish in junior high. I would speak it with my grandmother, who was completely amused but pleased. It was mind-blowing to her that I pursued this.

Have you always had this strong cultural identity?

My family is very Mexican American, it’s who I am. But I’m six feet tall—a lot of people would never in a million years guess that I’m Latina.

As I got older, it became more important to me to be grounded in the Latino cultural identity. As a well-educated Latina, I felt like had something to give,

and that was a place I could serve the community. I feel like I’m pretty well versed in the outsider-insider experience, how to navigate it.

You were raised in a socially conscious family, and you grew into a solid cultural identity. How did this lead to your work in film?

After college, I got a job with this amazing nonprofit called Marin Abused Women Services. We were trying to radically reshape the way the community looked at violence against women and girls. My job was to mobilize the community in terms of activism and prevention: working with women, with high school kids, doing letter-writing campaigns, rallies, media advocacy. I was immersed in this hyperpoliticized world, and I loved it! We got a grant that wanted a measurable outcome. So...we decided to make a video.

We had $5,000, which makes me laugh. We had no idea. Crazy, in-over-our-heads insanity. But I loved movies, I loved video, I get its applicability as a tool for social change.

Being on that set was my epiphany. When you hear about those light bulb, a-ha moments? It changed my life.

What I knew instantly that I could excel at were the people skills. I could talk to actors. I had some natural directing skills. I’m good at leading people. And I’m good at the details, the business side. I thought, okay, this is really about being a good communicator, a good team leader, and

being very organized. And the passion—the love of the art form—was already there.

Within about a month of completing that project, I went to my boss and said, “I think I need to quit.” (laughs)

Nice!

I thought, I’m going to pursue filmmaking. I didn’t know if I was technically inclined. I knew about color and light…but I didn’t know if I could do it. So I started taking classes at the local community college. Within a month I had befriended my current cinematographer, Meadow Holmes. We did all the early assignments together, all the sweating and shaking… It was so expensive...one little cartridge cost $100.

Was it 16 mm?

Yeah, old school! My first film I ever made was $8,000. I did a lot of stuff to try to minimize. I cut my own negatives, I hand processed a lot of the footage myself.

Talk about sweating it! You’re processing, and if you mess up…

Yes, my motto in film school became “Celebrate Mistakes.”

Do you think because of your stable upbringing in a socially conscious family, and your solid sense of self, you were attracted to helping others?

It’s interesting you frame it that way. In my 20s, I felt inadequate to deal with these issues, because I hadn’t suffered. I had

“IF YOU’RE GOING TO SAY THAT NO UNDOCUMENTED WORKERS CAN BE HERE, WHO DID YOU WANT TO CLEAN OUT YOUR HORSE STALLS?”

never been in an abusive relationship, how could I help battered women? I was raised to be compassionate, and a good listener, and someone who’s interested in stories. The social justice element? I just feel like it’s always been there.

Was part of it because you didn’t feel that doors were closed to you? Or if they were, you would just bust through?

Well, I do think I was taught to bust down doors. I was the first girl to play Little League in my hometown. Other parents would say, “You know there’s softball for girls, right?” And my parents would say, “We know. She likes baseball.” So there I was, an 8-year-old feminist.

Creason-Valencia’s new film “Stable Life” explores the lives of behind-the-scenes workers at Bay Meadows Race Track in San Mateo. The story follows an undocumented immigrant family who live and work at the stables, including their son, a jockey.

Tell me about “Stable Life,” your film that’s showing at Cinequest.

This film evolved over five years. I originally got involved as the editor. When I saw the unedited footage, I had no idea this community existed. I was blown away. There was this dichotomy between the back side and the front side of the track.

When we started this project, the hook was that Bay Meadows was slated for closure. And we wondered how it was going to impact these hundreds of workers. Sara [MacPherson], the director, is an immigration lawyer, so she wanted to know what would happen to the undocumented workers.

What are you trying to communicate with this film?

For me, the big takeaway is [the issue of] mixed immigration status and the toll that takes on families. Really looking at this insane policy that’s dividing families and keeping children separated from their parents. How psychologically damaging that is. How inhumane that is. Also, if you’re going to say that no

undocumented workers can be here, who did you want to clean out your horse stalls? It’s like the fruit picking arguments. Who do you think are going to do these jobs, and what’s that going to do to the price of your produce? There are hidden economies, hidden communities of people who are doing that work.

The laws are unfair. There are no structures in place. There’s not a happy ending. We just hope by shining a light on the difficulties, we can help people pull themselves out of this.

How do you get that message across?

My other role on this is Community Engagement Coordinator. I’ve been working with youth in San Jose and Santa Cruz to encourage kids to tell their own immigration stories. The tagline of my company is “Creating Alternative Images Onscreen,” because you don’t see kids of color onscreen, you don’t see these stories, you don’t hear from first generation immigrants, you don’t hear Spanish.

That was an issue working with PBS on this. They were like, “Oh…it’s in Spanish…Should it be dubbed?” And we thought, Oh no! Let’s disenfranchise these people even more and literally take away their voice!

That’s interesting. They’d prefer to have a narrator in English and only occasionally dip into someone speaking in Spanish

It is suggested. This film doesn’t have narration. We felt really strongly about that. We want the family to tell their own story.

How has making this film changed you?

What it does is bring me in touch with people for whom this issue is real, right now. I was exposed to a world I knew nothing about. Being deeply involved with the family was heart-wrenching, moving, fun. I was a new parent working on this film, so it touched me in a personal way.

What would you like your audience to get out of this film?

Sometimes it’s just to get people to see something they haven’t seen before. Or to shift the way they think. You may think you know about undocumented workers, but you’ve never seen the racetrack community.

This is happening all over the country. It use to be African Americans who worked in the stables, now it’s undocumented Latinos. What does that mean, socially? Who does these jobs? How come we are so comfortable with these hidden economies?

How is it going to spur people on to take a stance on this issue? That’s the thing with social issue documentary: you want to nudge people to think, to evaluate their choices. But you don’t want to be so hardcore that people get turned off. The prize that I’ve got my eye on is change. Amnesty for workers in this type of situation, better immigration policy. The way I want to do that is to engage the community in dialogue about it.

For you, the goal is social change?

Always. STABLE LIFE: A high-stakes documentary about family, immigration & the hardscrabble world of horse racing showing at San Jose Rep during the 23rd Annual Cinequest Film Festival. cinequest.org

Wed. Feb. 27, 7:00 PM Sun. March 3, 4:00 PM Tues. March 5, 7:00 PM

flacafilms.com equipoisefilms.com

Lifetime’s Host of “TEEN TROUBLE” is In Your Face, but On Your Side

Josh Shipp wants to help teens understand themselves.

Written by Flora Moreno de Thompson

Interview and Photography by daniel Garcia

Some people just have a knack for giving advice, even when the person on the receiving end isn’t asking for it. Josh Shipp is one of these people. Originally from Oklahoma and now living in San Jose, Shipp began working as a motivational speaker while in high school and has been helping others ever since.

Shipp’s formative years have given him lots of experience to work with. “I’m an expert in the sense that I’ve gone through it myself,” Shipp says. His presence is magnetic to the young people he talks to—it has even earned him a TV show on Lifetime called “Troubled Teens.” Shipp is definitely one to talk: he’s chosen to use the lessons he’s learned to help others make better decisions for themselves. And his audiences are listening.

ON BEING A FOSTER KID

My mom had me when she was 17. After she gave birth to me, as it’s been pieced together to me, she took off. I entered the foster care system, in and out of a bunch of different homes. My first message the world gave me was that you can’t trust anybody.

I’m sure I entered foster homes where people had good intentions and deserved to be trusted, but I definitely didn’t give them that shot. I would keep a notebook of my entry date and exit date and my strategy for getting kicked out [of a foster home] and I’d try to beat my previous score.

ON PUSHING BOUNDARIES AS A TEENAGER

I certainly had a lot of challenges as a kid that led to a lot of my issues. I didn’t talk out, I acted out. It is a teenager’s job to push the boundaries, but it’s a parents job to hold the boundaries. When a kid becomes a teenager, parents get surprised that their kid, who was great, is now pushing the boundaries. It’s part of [the teenager’s] independence, separating themselves from the parent. Which is good because you don’t want that kid living at home till they’re 40. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent. It isn’t necessarily a sign of something in crisis or going off the hinges, it’s just inevitably what happens.

ON BEING CALLED A TEENAGE BEHAVIORAL EXPERT

I’m an expert in the sense that I’ve gone through it myself. Been there done that. You gain so much ground with teenagers talking about your screw-ups. The truth is we all have failures. Do you learn from them? That’s what matters. I’m ashamed at the things I’ve done to some of these foster parents. I can’t go back and erase them but I can learn from it.

ON DEALING WITH GETTING PICKED ON IN SCHOOL

Eventually I said I’m going to become funny to defend myself. I did that, it went well, kids responded to that. If someone can own who they are, good and bad, it’s not much fun to attack them. If someone is aware of their flaws then you’ve taken the wind out of their sails.

This led to being disruptive in class. It worked, it protected me. It all goes back to that trust. I felt safe within this, people wouldn’t pick on me, but things didn’t have to get too serious.

ON THE TEACHER IN HIGH SCHOOL THAT CHANGED SHIPP’S LIFE

This woman from DECA (a high school organization which prepares students for leadership roles in certain fields) approached me in the hallway. I’d never met her before, and out of nowhere she said ‘You don’t know me. I know most teachers are annoyed by you, is that true? I don’t think you’re a class clown, I think you’re a leader. All your friends are laughing, but they’re actually listening because you have their attention and you have an obligation to do something with that.’ She pitched DECA to me. She said it was an easy class, you get out of school an hour early, there’s job shadowing, lots of girls, and free cookies. There was so much wisdom not only in how she approached me, but how she sold me. I’ve thought so much about that moment ever since. What was behind what she was saying? What was she really doing? Did she have a brilliant moment or was she really methodical?

When you can turn a kid like me, like that, you open up the opportunity for influence to a whole demographic of kids that that teacher couldn’t reach but only that kid could.

ON A TEENAGER’S SELF-ESTEEM

A lot of the kids I talk to these days have low self-esteem. If you want to feel good about yourself, go do something that scares you—that’s good for you. Succeed or fail, you’ll begin to think differently of yourself. Being president of DECA wasn’t amazing at

first, but it made me think about what else was impossible or out of my league that I could pull off or be decent at

ON DEALING WITH ADVERSITY

There are always these pivotal points. Everyone has those moments, but perhaps we don’t do with them as we should. It’s not about one’s talent or intelligence, it’s about the implementation. Everyone is going to go through something hard, that will bring you to your knees. We’ve all been there and we’re all going to get there. What do you do with that?

I actually believe it’s our moment of failure and moments of pain that define us. The bad moments make the good moments sweeter

ON BECOMING A MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKER

At first, I didn’t talk about my story much. I didn’t want to be a complainer. I felt I had no relevance to anyone. But I was amazed that the more that I talked about the hard stuff, actually the better it went. And it was no longer ‘oh that was funny.’ It was ‘oh you really made me think.’ I remember once a kid came up next to me and said ‘My uncle died last week.’ Like he was saying, ‘You went through hard stuff, I am going through something hard. Maybe I can learn something from my situation like you have.’

At first I was getting invited to speak at these schools. I didn’t think it was a career. There was certainly no strategy at the beginning. It was personally rewarding and fun so why not? Then I started getting bigger and bigger opportunities. Instead of a class, it was the entire 8th grade, eventually the whole school. In another state. Then I began to think there’s something here. Are other people doing this? If so, do they have strategy involved? How do you deal with the business side, at the same time figuring out my message. My first speech was about cole slaw. I would start off by saying something clever, but didn’t have any depth.

ON BEING ABLE TO TALK TO YOUNG PEOPLE THROUGH OTHER CHANNELS

They weren’t intimidated, but they respected me. A small percentage of kids would come to me after a speech. At first I’d try to respond to all of them, which was exhausting and not scalable. Eventually I thought, for every kid that asks, there’s got to be two or three or ten that would never ask. That’s when I started doing this podcast. Each week I’d take two questions.

ON HIS TV SHOW ON LIFETIME, “TROUBLED TEENS”

We’re not going to stage drama. Everything we need to make good TV is going to happen.

I think it’s healthy for [the teens on the show] to get to that place where they [can see themselves] freak out and flip out, to look at what’s going on here and not allow them to distracted or run aside. And tell them ‘you need to get a good hard look at this.’ [The show’s directors and producers] will never tell me what to say or what to do. When I’m there with the kid I’m in charge, I’m the boss.

I’m thankful for the platform. It’s so efficient. Whether you influence one kid, a teacher…I’m selfishly excited about that. I’m excited that when the show airs there will be half a million to a million and a half parents and kids watching it.

One of my concerns going into it was working with a kid on their [school] campus. I thought not only is their guard going to be up, their guard is up because this guy they don’t know is coming in to make a TV show [about them]. So I do my best to overly communicate and prove and show this is not about a show. I don’t care. I tell them ‘I’m here, I signed on, and by the way we had hundreds of kids apply and I chose to work for you.’

But the blessing that blind-sided me is that no kid has ever seen themselves use drugs. They don’t see themselves at their worst moment. They don’t see themselves being self-destructive. It’s no longer my opinion. It’s ‘Dude, here are the facts.’ For them to have that moment [of seeing themselves making bad decisions], was incredibly powerful.

joshshipp.com

Facebook: imjoshshipp Twitter: @joshshipp

Getting Real

Silicon Valley is teeming with entrepreneurs ready to share their next big thing with the world. From the intangible to the edible, the ideas that begin here are neverending. And what better way to share your vision than by getting a reality TV show? After all, knowing when to seize an opportunity that comes knocking is a part of the entrepreneurial spirit that runs rampant through the Valley.

Jen Kwapinski and Sarah Austin are two local innovators that have used the medium to their advantage, showing their audiences just what they’re made of.

Sarah Austin: Made for TV

Written by Jennifer Elias

Photography by Daniel Garcia

Hair by Yanin Colmenero

Make-Up by Jennifer Toy

Clothes by Ibiss Boutique

Sarah Austin is no stranger to standing in front of a camera. Prior to being a reality TV personality, Austin was a “lifecaster,” broadcasting every moment of her life (yes, this is a “thing”) for famed video start-up Justin.tv in the ultimate reality show. The Mill Valley native lives and breathes Silicon Valley, which made her an ideal candidate for Randi Zuckerberg’s reality series “StartUps: Silicon Valley.”

In 2008, Austin founded Pop17, a network dedicated to web trends, entrepreneurs, and micro-celebrities of the digital space — a start-up chronicling other start-ups. Her résumé also includes a web series called “Party Crashers,” in which she crashes tech parties. Today, Austin is endorsed by brands including MTV, Virgin Mobile, Bing, and Lady Gaga.

Austin was hailed as “America’s Tweetheart” by Vanity Fair and in 2011, she made Forbes Magazine’s “30 Under 30” list right alongside digital media expert extraordinaire Pete Cashmore. “That was definitely a highlight in my career. When I found out, I was like, ‘No way, get out!’” Austin says.

“I THINK THE STRANGEST THING ABOUT BEING ON A REALITY TV SHOW IS THEY TRY TO PLAY YOU INTO CHARACTER ARCHETYPES.”

When the Bravo Network teamed up with entrepreneur (and Mark’s sister) Randi Zuckerberg for a new reality series based on Silicon Valley life, the bubbly video blogger was at the top of their casting list. “I thought this could be a really unique opportunity to work with Randi Zuckerberg, a woman in tech who supports other women in tech,” says Austin. “This was a cool opportunity for me to be part of a cultural movement and

While she’s apologized in several media sources, she defends her actions. “I think he totally deserved it,” she says. “Too often, as women, we blame the other girl. But we definitely need to look at the guy who’s stirring the pot.”

Viewers of the show had a new personality to hate, but that was her role to play. “I think the strangest thing about being on a reality TV show is they try to play you into character archetypes.” Austin indirectly admitted the majority of “Start-Ups: Silicon Valley” is staged in many situations, but she says she had no idea she would be painted as the villain.

Austin is confident that her short-lived career on the small screen won’t affect her professional life. “Most of my friends don’t even have cable,” Austin says with a laugh. “This could potentially affect my future in Hollywood...maybe I could only play a villain, like the witch or something. But am I really gonna do that? No.”

show a unique perspective in start-ups and Silicon Valley culture.”

What Austin thought was going to be a chance to showcase her company Pop17 took a turn for the dramatic, as any reality TV sucker can expect. Producers are known to put characters in certain situations and feed them rough guidelines of what to do, although Austin is mum on the specifics. One situation in particular positioned Austin as the “bad guy” to viewers. In the episode, she throws a cup of water in the face of another cast member, for “date-cheating” on her.

What is next for Austin? The video blogger and CEO wants to focus her attention on covering the tech scene. Austin’s latest effort includes working with a company called Seyyer, an artificial intelligence video platform. “I’m excited to build my avatar so I don’t have to film,” says Austin about the new product. “I can just enter text and my video appears. It’s this whole video trend...that’s where I’m putting my time right now.” Says Austin, “I am authentically plugged into Silicon Valley.”

pop17.com

Twitter: @sarahaustin @pop17

Facebook: sarahaustin bravo.tv

Jen Kwapinski: A Sweet Opportunity

Written by Flora Moreno de Thompson

Interview and Photography by Daniel Garcia

Applying to be on the third season of TLC’s “Next Great Baker” may have been a whim decision for Jen Kwapinski, but there’s something about her that makes her a natural on TV. Kwapinski’s star quality and entrepreneurial spirit make her shine off-screen, too.

Kwapinski started out working at a local bakery, but she never thought she’d own one someday. “The owner even sat me down and showed me the expenses and said, ‘Never open a bakery.’” Kwapinski would make cakes on the side for friends and family, and then for friends of friends, and slowly her cake business took off. Originally, Kwapinski had a commercial kitchen in Los Gatos, but in 2008 she opened Jen’s Cakes in Willow Glen.

“I stumbled upon this kitchen and it’s been awesome ever since,” Kwapinski says. “Being in Willow Glen has been the best thing ever.” Kwapinski’s attention to detail and excellence is something she is known for in the cake industry.

“PRESENT YOURSELF IN A WAY THAT’S GOING TO BE BENEFICIAL TO YOUR CAREER AND NOT JUST TO TRASH YOURSELF.”

“I’m competitive in the sense that I want to be the best,” she says. “We don’t want our cakes to be beautiful and taste like cardboard.”

It’s this competitive quality that makes Kwapinski a perfect reality TV personality. “Next Great Baker” is an elimination contest which brings some of the country’s most talented bakers together to compete. Kwapinski applied to be on the show, but didn’t tell anyone at first.

On the show, Kwapinski capitalized on the character traits she thought would make her stand apart from the rest of her costars, like her short temper and her brutal honesty.

“I’m surprised that ‘Next Great Baker’ is very real,” Kwapinski says. “I thought they were going to spin me to be this little brat. The cameras aren’t making it up.” After she got comfortable with the cameras constantly filming around her, she focused on just being herself. “I don’t think they portrayed me in a bad way,” she says. “It’s good television.”

Kwapinski is back at work now at Jen’s Cakes after filming the show, and open to whatever comes next for her business. “I’m one of those people that likes to roll with it and see what happens,” she says. “I like working with people and I’m stuck in a kitchen all the time. What could be next?” Currently, she’s working on a baby bedding business on the side with some friends and hopes to come out with a line of products in the near future.

Season three of “Next Great Baker” is still on the air, so Kwapinski isn’t allowed to talk about the outcome of the show. But one thing she’s willing to discuss is advice. For those looking to start their own business, Kwapinski says to concentrate on marketing to the masses. “Not every single person is going to like Jen’s Cakes, but as far as flavor and presentation, we satisfy 80-90% of the people that come through the door.”

She’s got advice for those who are looking to get on a reality TV show, too. “You shouldn’t go on TV wanting to be a moron,” she says. “Present yourself in a way that’s going to be beneficial to your career and not just to trash yourself. Some people don’t know how to act.”

Watch Jen on TLC’s “Next Great Baker” (Season 3)

jenscakes.com

Twitter: @_jenscakes Facebook: jens.jenscakes tlc.com

Investing in Public

barbara Goldstein

The Former Director of Public Art talks about keeping art in the community

Written by Gillian Claus

Photography by daniel Garcia

“FOR YEARS THERE WAS A REDEVELOPMENT AGENCY THAT BASICALLY PUT MONEY IN AND MADE THINGS HAPPEN, AND THAT DOESN’T EXIST ANYMORE. AND THAT COULD BE A GOOD THING.”

There are koalas in the trees in San Jose. There are bees inside the library and dalmatians in the fire station. Better still, there are outstretched hands welcoming you into the airport. Where can you find these hidden secrets and how did they get there? If your question is about public art, then your answer is Barbara Goldstein.

Formerly the Director of Public Art for the Office of Cultural Affairs, Goldstein has just stepped out of bureaucratic life and into consulting, sealing new deals between art and the corporate world. In her recently published Public Art by the Book, she explores a variety of candidates for public art funding and the essential nature of community involvement in the process.

Goldstein directed the public art program in Seattle for 11 years, and has spent eight years working for the city of San Jose. Raised in upstate New York by an artistic mother, she began attending architecture lectures as a young teenager. That focus intensified into an art school degree in architecture, visual, and fine arts. She was one of only three women in her class of seventy architects.

“I studied art but I don’t practice art,” says Goldstein. “When I got out of architecture school, I worked a little bit in architecture but I pretty much went right into teaching and writing—that side of it. It’s totally changed now but in those days, if you were a woman in architecture, you just weren’t going to get very far. I figured out by the second year of college that my

skill set and talent would be better used serving in more of an advocacy role and planning role. It’s taken me into some very interesting places.”

Her work is about making the places we all inhabit more interesting and expressive. “I think that Silicon Valley has not really found its unique architectural identity yet, to be honest. San Jose’s got great historic fabric. Wonderful historic buildings downtown and wonderful historic neighborhoods, but I don’t think that San Jose or even Silicon Valley has developed an architecture that really expresses what Silicon Valley is about.”

Because of height limitations created by the airport’s flight path, the skyline of downtown San Jose was effectively squashed. The City of San Jose Public Art’s new project, Illuminating Downtown, seeks to change that landscape with light and color. By utilizing the technology inherent in Silicon Valley, artists will be inspired to revitalize the featureless environment of freeways and office blocks. Such a change will create a more dynamic environment for pedestrians and city-dwellers.

One lighting project being developed by two artists connected with SJSU, Steve Durie and Bruce Gardner, will connect the university with the SOFA district. In another corporate connection, the lights are being donated by Philips Lumileds. Goldstein says, “They look like multi-story birdhouses that are lit inside but when you go past them, you trigger a pattern in the light above your head that then ripples out to the other lights so it becomes a pattern of ripples. If a lot of people are passing different lights, patterns start to sync up the way that fireflies sync up their lighting on the east coast.”

Bringing art out into our daily environment means constantly exploring non-traditional canvases. The main project commissioned for Illuminating Downtown is underneath Highway 87, at Santa Clara and San Fernando Streets and may

include some lighting along the Guadalupe River Trail. There will be a competition to open up programming on the project that’s called Show Your Stripes, an illuminated piece on the Safeway Market at Second and San Fernando. Goldstein explains that the artwork will be programmable by cell phone. The competition will allow people to find unprogrammed numbers and come up with their own programming.

The combination of art with modern technology has got Goldstein excited. She is hoping to get visitors to the new convention center excited, too. With a more user-friendly plaza in front, she hopes to “bring the inside of the convention center out and vice versa.”

Arguing that convention centers are typically places people enter without experiencing the outside, while downtown residents don’t necessarily know what’s going on inside the convention center, she “basically charged the artist with the idea of breaking down that wall.”

Artist Soo-in Yang responded with a piece called Tree of Ideas. Goldstein described the work as “a beautiful metal sculpture that looks kind of like a tree. And inside the middle part of the tree, you can hear ideas that people deposit from various locations and their ideas come across and it’s a very soft kind of sound program. You can record them from various locations in the convention center and other places and then when you’re underneath the tree, you’ll hear a kind of whispering that is like words that people have deposited. As words accumulate, they slowly degrade and become a much more ambient sound program at the outer edges.” Goldstein hopes this is the kind of piece that can get potential sponsors interested as well.

How much more engaging would it be if private industry attached their names to sculptures rather than billboards? Goldstein is making those connections. She explains that the city of San Jose has effectively come to the end of what they called their “decade of investment” —they’ve finished all of their capital improvement projects for libraries, community centers, fire stations, and police stations. Airport funding has been temporarily halted until the user base grows. Given that the airport is what brought Goldstein to San Jose, she spent many years improving its infrastructure. This current fiscal situation has prompted her to engage in conversation with potential sponsors of art at the airport, whether a private corporation or even a nonprofit that wants to attract visitors.

The recent economy has proved to be a catalyst for some interesting thinking. Government is beginning to change into something different. “I think if you were to talk with the city manager or the head of our office for economic development, what you’d really hear from them is that they’re thinking about government in different ways – thinking about partnerships in different ways.”

Now that she is leaving the red tape behind her, Goldstein has only kind words for her city colleagues.

“I have to say that working in San Jose has been a phenomenal opportunity for me.

It’s really interesting to come into a community where people sincerely embrace innovation and the idea of trying things and taking risks.” Goldstein stresses that the word ‘risk’ can be tricky when you work in city government. “When we talk about risk, we really have to talk about artistic risk and not physical risk.” Short-term projects and a sensible review process have helped to create a more positive environment. If a project is not successful, growth comes from learning how to fix it.

With an ever-increasing collection of new and innovative public art to explore, what will the next steps be for the city? Who will lead the way forward and what new partnerships will be formed?

“Honestly, it’s time for San Jose to take the training wheels off. For a long time, it was a small market town that was very successful as a downtown. Then in the sixties, when shopping malls happened and the car became very dominant, the downtown really went downhill.” Goldstein acknowledges that it was the redevelopment agency that drove the city in the seventies, but government is changing and those days are gone. “Now it’s time for everybody to make things happen.”

publicartplan@earthlink.net

6 Hidden Artworks in San Jose

King Library, “Recolecciones” by Mel Chin

“The public art program in the library is really meant to be a voyage of discovery. It’s called ‘Recolecciones’ which means collecting things. You’re really meant to find the art throughout the library. There are 34 different pieces there and some of them are really an adventure to find. I don’t think I’ve seen all of them.”

Edenvale Library, “Web of Native Botanicals” by Troy Corliss with Elin Christopherson

“Over the main desk there is a suspended piece that looks like the branches of trees and all of the leaves are blown glass. It’s spectacular.”

Hillview Library, “Groundwork” by Amy Trachtenberg

“A big rotunda that is supported by columns that relate to architecture and canning. The base of the columns are tractor tires, the next layer are like bushel baskets, cans, and branches. Paintings at the top sort of look like the light coming through the orchard.”

Fire Station No 12, “The Spring-tailed Dalmatian” by Gerald Heffernon

“Over in district 10. A terrific piece. It’s a bronze dalmatian with a tail that looks like a spring and he’s sliding down a fireman’s pole.”

Bridge over Monterey Highway, “Blossom Hill Pedestrian Bridge” by Vicki Scuri

“You’ve got to go see it, its really beautiful. The artist basically took what would have been a very dull ordinary metal truss bridge and developed a whole new skin for it that is metal cut-outs in bright colors. When you’re in the bridge, you see these phenomenal shadows cast on the ground. It’s all based on the idea of cherry blossoms.”

Consolidated Rental Car Garage (at SJC Airport), “Hands” by Christian Moeller

“You can actually see the face behind the hands and a little story about each person online (bit.ly/sjchands) A hundred thousand people drive by that every day.”

Find more art with the City’s map of Public Art sanjoseculture.org/downloads/downtownsjpublicartmap.pdf

“HONESTLY,

6 Hidden Artworks in San Jose

Their new film takes Cinequest Co-Founders Halfdan Hussey, Kathleen Powell and PtP Coordinator Marcela Villegas Castanon to Cambodia and into the underground world of human trafficking.

Written by Gillian Claus Photography courtesy of Cinequest

It is almost unfathomable that such a simple mantra can be derived from the brutality experienced by victims of

SOMALY MAM SIGNS HER BOOKS, “LIFE IS LOVE. LOVE IS LIFE.”

human trafficking. How can a woman who has experienced such cruelty and indifference lead others into a life filled with love? How can young girls learn to care for each other when they have never been cared for themselves? How can love rescue children from such dark places?

The secret is education. From the first days that Somaly was able to study and attend school, her life was altered. She saw that people could be taught to change. Girls subjected to the most repugnant aspects of humanity could be rescued by education. She went into brothels with condoms and information about disease. She created shelters for rescued girls where they could study and learn a trade. She even went directly to the men, the clients and the pimps, to teach them that these girls were human and that sex is not just a vicious act. She explained to clients that having sex with a virgin cannot magically rid them of AIDS. In each case, Somaly was sharing knowledge, and that learning is love.

The population of Cambodia is young. Because of the genocide wreaked by the Khmer Rouge, 50% are under 25. Young enough to learn. Young enough to rid themselves of the mythology of the past. They are also poor enough to do almost anything to survive. The average Cambodian earns less than $360 per year.

Herself a victim of trafficking, rape, and child prostitution, Somaly Mam was the inspiration for Cinequest’s Picture the Possiblities (PtP) team to journey to Cambodia and make a movie. One of PtP’s strongest supporters, Roz Hongsaranagon, had heard Somaly speak at a women’s gathering in Hong

Kong and urged Halfdan Hussey to learn more about the story. She noted that Somaly Mam signed each book with the phrase, “Life is Love.”

“That’s what got us into this project, the love concept. But it wasn’t just a theory—she was living it,” said Hussey.

So Hussey began to read Somaly’s book, The Road of Lost Innocence, slowly. “I could only read a chapter at a time and then I had to decompress for a few days.” He was moved by the story of a woman he compares to saints, noting that even Mother Teresa did not have the hellish childhood that Somaly suffered. Hussey felt that he could tell the stories from Somaly and her Voices for Change girls honorably, without sensationalism or celebrity. Too often, Hussey said, “TV crews will come in and they’ll bring a movie star, but they won’t listen to the girls. Somaly wasn’t thrilled with the way that folks in the media have related her story.”

So how could their team tell this story differently? Should the film be a straight biography of Somaly or a dramatization of her book? To answer this question, Hussey and his partner Kathleen Powell had to determine their goal for the project. They opted to simply let the thirteen girls tell their own stories.

PtP was committed to the project and, as more people learned about Somaly’s story, they began to give whatever they could. Flow lights were donated and all of their hotel costs were covered. HP donated 12 high-end editing systems and Adobe gave editing software. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in donations and deals came together. Cinematographers worked for a fraction of normal wages and composers volunteered their services. People who were used to expensing everything in Hollywood didn’t even take a taxi to save the project two dollars. “They were so unbelievable in their treatment and respectful to the women and the girls.”

At first, the arrangements seemed to drag. Scheduling is a looser concept in Southeast Asia. But, when they suddenly

Somaly Mam

got word that things were set, it was during the one time that nobody had wanted to go. “Because it’s really hot and it rains all the time,” says Hussey.

But opportunities only present themselves once, and Hussey, Powell and their Line Producer Marcela Villegas got on a plane to Cambodia.

Villegas had to consider the challenges that would be posed by shooting in remote locations without power. Fortunately, technology was on their side and she was able to charge the camera batteries at night. Filming in Cambodia was made so much easier by recent improvements in digital equipment.

Hussey said that, even five years ago, “there’s no way we could have shot this film. We have 100 hours of footage that we shot in a compressed three weeks. That would have taken a Hollywood crew five months. We had super fast portable cameras. The new lights are so fast to set up. Its no longer two hours to set something up, now its five minutes. This is great. We can shoot, shoot, shoot.”

So the technology allowed Hussey to pull off a very small crew. He decided to bring along four cinematographers (DPs) who could also do sound. Just two teams of four people— one director, a line producer and two DPs. Plus Powell can co-edit, something which time had always prohibited before. “You were so technically restricted as a director before,” says Powell, “you had to wait. You didn’t know if you got the shot, you didn’t know how it was going to turn out. You didn’t know if a negative was going to get lost or scratched, but now many a night Marcela was backing up all night long while I had my little earplugs in, sleeping.”

Because the technology is so much less invasive, the girls could tell their stories more freely. There was no need to stop and reset lights or load film. Powell felt that the experience could be more intimate “because it didn’t become about the technology, it became about them.”

And they moved through Asia with much less baggage. Because hard drives now have such large capacity, they don’t have to deal with the physical bulk of 35mm cans or duffel bags full of tapes. But such portable media also made Hussey a little nervous. “I went Mr. CIA, I was so paranoid about all this material.” He sent one of the crew ahead with 90% of the footage in his carry-on.

Even the weather donated to the cause. The rain held off and allowed exterior shooting during what is routinely the wettest season of the year. There were no difficulties with government and border crossings. Only one crew member was hospitalized with severe dehydration. “We told them don’t eat the street food, don’t drink the ice in the coffee,” said Hussey.

Hussey responded to the beauty of the the settings they were shooting in, although many were in abject poverty. “The place was so alive. We were able to film in these rough places. All this mix of terror and beauty.”

Villegas remembered piling into a four by four with Somaly and her girls and travelling miles on bumpy dirt roads to the center. “We finally go into this very secluded little hidden area and it was like entering a paradise. Trees, beautiful buildings and a bunch of girls just running up to you trying to introduce themselves. Some of them don’t speak English but they just cling on to you. I guess the oldest there is around twelve and the youngest is two years old. You could feel the love there and forget that these girls went through all this. You forget about those things.”

The film focuses on stories from thirteen of the older girls that Somaly has rescued, as well as Somaly. The group of girls is called Voices for Change.“These are the girls that she is passing the torch to, and they are doing the work right now,” says Hussey. They are survivors who talk to new victims, speak at public events, and oversee routine tasks at the compounds. Most importantly, they give faces to the stories of suffering and ultimate survival.

Voices For Change girls

The young residents of the compound have come up with a beautiful way to relieve the Voices for Change girls of the burden of retelling their stories over and over. They have written songs for them in which they sing the stories of the young leaders.

“THE MOVIE HAS RHYTHMS OF GREAT TRAGEDY FOLLOWED BY INSPIRATION. THAT’S THE BALANCE OF THEIR LIVES,” SAYS HUSSEY.

And the survivors are radiant. Powell said, “They don’t force these girls to talk. They live in this loving environment and when they are ready to share, they share. I don’t think any of us could step back and say this is someone who was raped. You didn’t look at them as victims. You looked at them as joyous people.”

There are more stories here. The film will include some extraordinary interviews with clients. Villegas managed to line up interviews with men who had been through outreach programs and talk to them directly about their attitudes toward the women. Some were ordinary men, while others were hardened criminals. Villegas noted the importance of building relationships with clients to help with information of trafficking very young girls. When Hussey asked the men if they were open to using condoms to prevent disease, “They want to use the condoms. They know it isn’t maybe. They get it.”

Many of the locations proved risky for the filmmakers. When Powell went into brothels to conduct interviews, “there were men standing around watching everything that was being said. Not nice people. How you would imagine a pimp to be, very controlling of what he owns.”

“Some of our cinematographers would go out at night shooting footage,” said Hussey. “I would say ‘make sure you be careful.’ I’m looking at the footage—they weren’t that careful.”

Trying to document the poverty and living conditions for the families involved in trafficking was vital to the team. “We’re talking about human trafficking and women who are surviving by selling themselves,” says Powell.

Living that life has taken a toll on Somaly. She sleeps very little and is tormented by nightmares. But it is not only the past that tortures Somaly, notes Powell. “She is carrying that sense that once you take a girl out you are responsible for her until she is able to survive on her own. There are torments of her past but a lot of it is the responsibility of her future.”

The impact that their trip made on Hussey, Powell, and Villegas is noticeable both physically and emotionally. They spent their days sweating in hundred degree heat. And the tears came. “It was really hard because I would start meditating while they told their story and Kathleen who was doing the interviewing would be crying for 30 to 45 minutes straight,” says Hussey. “It is just heart-wrenching,” adds Powell. “But we are not creating a film to have people cry for two hours, you have to show the uplifting side of all this. This is a really great movie to watch because it is not only healing, but also inspiring.”

Now the team is hard at work post-processing and writing grants for finishing funds. They hope that an executive producer will be attracted by a project which is so nearly finished. The proceeds from the film will support Somaly’s work by creating an educational scholarship and, with more good luck, the team hopes to premiere the film at Cannes this spring.

Somaly Mam Foundation somaly.org

Life is Love, the movie cinequestptp.org/life-love

Kathleen Powell Halfdan Hussey Marcela Villegas Castanon

PHILIPPE REY AND BYRON WESTLUND ARE IGNITING AN UNDERGROUND DINING MOVEMENT, ONE DISH AT A TIME.

UNDERGROUND DINING

They are the creators and hosts of Underground Dining at Naglee Park, a supper club where parties of 10-14 diners feast on eight-course gourmet meals featuring dishes such as Risotto aux Fruits de Mer and Salade d’Haricots Verts, all in the privacy of Rey and Westlund’s Naglee Park home.

Byron Westlund

Philippe Rey

Written by kat bell Photography by daniel Garcia

Each dish is made from scratch, with locally sourced ingredients, many of them fresh from a neighbor’s trees or a nearby farmers market. This is not just dining, it is the art of dining: every detail, from the wine pairings to the freshly pressed napkins and candlelit surroundings, has been meticulously prepared for each guest. “There is something so intimate about

being in someone’s home,” Westlund says.

“In Europe this is not unique,” Westlund says. “The chefs you hear about are all in their homes, they are called auberges, and that’s the model we are using.” Not only are you eating food prepared in the chef’s own kitchen, but you are also eating off their own table. This personal and intimate touch takes the experience from ordinary to extraordinary.

Once a staple of the elite salons of Paris and still popular in Europe, supper clubs have been transformed in recent years. Underground dining is sweeping through major cities and small towns alike with the help of social networking sites and growth of recent food movements.

The concept of hosting complete strangers in his own home is not an out-ofplace feeling for Rey. Growing up in Switzerland, Rey was an active participant in his parents’ restaurant and hotel. “I grew up in the industry,” Rey explains. “I was a kid doing everything from serving tables to housekeeping.”

“When they got together it was the 1950s, they were traditional. They built a house and their idea was that mom would stay home and raise the kids.” Rey says, laughing. “Within a year she got so bored that she opened up her living room and started cooking for people.” In 1951 she opened her first restaurant.

“Some of the original supplies [we use] are from my family’s hotel,” Rey says.

“The silverware and the linens are all my mother’s. It is like visiting the past.”

In fact, it was food and a love of the past that brought these two together.

“My mother was an amazing chef and the first time Byron cooked a meal for me, it tasted exactly like my mom’s. I knew he was a keeper.” Rey says with a laugh.

When it comes to their dinners, it is easy to tell if the meal is a success. “I know when the food is good [because] there is dead silence [at the table],” Rey says. Adds

Westlund, “We bring people to the table, have good food, and share laughter and stories. The craziest thing is that it works.”

But there is more to their meals than just good food and good wine. The pair cultivates a new and growing philosophy: Food is more than a pleasure, it is catalyst to growing relationships and strengthening human bonds.

“We ask our guests, when was the last time you sat down with family, or even strangers, and shared a meal?” Rey says.

Rey’s work with Adolescent Counseling Services, a non-profit organization serving local teens and their families offering counseling services and other support, has also inspired this approach.

“With everyone so stressed and under pressure, families don’t take the time to sit down for dinner anymore,” says Rey. “Share a meal, and you would be surprised what your kids will tell you. Even when they hate you, as teens often do, there is still so much conversation happening at the dinner table.”

This sense of community captures the essence of the pair and their mission. It isn’t just the delicious food or the elegant surroundings, it is the heart that lies behind every pour of wine or serving of cuisine. Not a house but a home, not strangers but family. From the moment you walk in the door to the second you leave.

“It doesn’t have to be elaborate to have friends over.” Westlund says. “It’s the getting together that’s important.” adds Rey. In this over-connected and increasingly alienating world, Westlund and Rey have created an oasis of intimacy.

What does the future hold for this unique and dynamic team? “In the future, it would be great to live in a bigger home and perhaps operate the downstairs as the supper club and have the upstairs for our home, but right now this is great,” Rey says. “We always promised each other we are only doing this as long as we are having fun, and if it ever becomes a chore we will stop.” Fortunately for San Jose, this team is far from hanging up their aprons.

“WE’RE HERE TO BRING PEOPLE TO THE TABLE, HAVE GOOD FOOD, AND SHARE LAUGHTER AND STORIES. THE CRAZIEST THING IS THAT IT WORKS.”

Byron Westlund

undergroundiningatnagleepark.com info@undergroundiningatnagleepark.com Facebook: UndergroundDiningAtNagleePark

singlebarrel Cache Bouren Wants

Written by Robert F. James

Photography by SCott MacDOnald

Cache Bouren, one of the owners of San Jose’s singlebarrel, wants to tell you “No.” Oh, you’ll balk at the idea at first, and may even want to battle for a drink your way, but if you listen to him talk about the cocktails he’s making and why he makes them that way, you’ll understand exactly why not getting your way is a good thing

Bouren’s personality fills the room. “I love saying ‘No’ to people. Most people have no idea what they want to drink. I want to give you something you’ll love; that you had no idea you even wanted,” he says. He was inspired by his first real cocktail, a gin and grapefruit juice, when the bartender sliced a fresh grapefruit and squeezed it directly into the drink. “It was miraculous to me.”

At singlebarrel, you don’t just belly up and order the sugary drink du jour. The bartenders take control and walk you through a process to determine what suits your palate. They want to dial in on where you are on the spectrum. Do you like citrus? Do you like to taste the spirit? Each answer gets you closer to the experience and further away from ever again accepting a subpar drink.

Located under the Agenda Lounge, singlebarrel’s space has been a nightclub, a woodworking shop, and even an adult theater over the last 90 years. “I want our place to be a little bit of a vacation from reality,” says the Maui native. “I came into the space for the first time like everyone else does. I went down the stairs, took the same turns, down the hall, and then I walked in the room and it opened up. It took my breath away. It made it an adventure.”

The loose interpretation of a speakeasy theme with costumed bartenders and hushed lighting arose not from Bouren’s design entirely, but from the physical space of the underground location. All those meandering turns and the long, darkened hallway lined with heavy black curtains establishes a break from the grind outside. Once inside, the only thing that matters is the cocktail.

to Tell You

“No”

“I love saying no to people.”

If you’re used to a bar, you’ll notice immediately that things here are different. There are no bottled sweet or sour mixes. The soda gun is noticeably absent. The confrontational Bouren fought to make it that way.

“Well, the soda gun. Nothing good comes from them. It’s just sugary, syrupy chemicals. Why would you want to drink that?”

To say that Bouren gets animated talking about the watering down of the American bar scene is an understatement. He gestures more intensely. His eyes spark.

“We got down there, and there’s this soda gun. I called the Sprite guy and told him to get it out. He stands there and refuses. He says he’ll get fired—fired!—if he takes it out. Well, I’m not going to argue with him, so I grabbed a hacksaw, crawled under the bar and started sawing the lines in half. He just sighed and said, ‘Ok. That’ll do.’”

Every effort put into the bar ends up in the cocktail experience. It’s so dark in the bar, there is little opportunity to mingle with strangers. Looking for a hookup?

Best to move on to another locale. “That’s what I wanted,” Bouren says. “I’ve spent my entire life watching women get hit on by every guy in a bar. I want a place where you can come in with your friends, sit down, have a drink and talk.” And the attendant who makes the rounds of the floor shushing the louder conversations means singlebarrel is the antithesis of the “Man Jose” bar.

Don’t dismiss Bouren’s experience. His father was a musician and his mother a bartender. He spent his formative years at the end of the bar watching them work their shifts. At 15, his first job was in a bar, cleaning and bussing. Later, he worked as a flair bartender because, “That’s what the girls were into.” Adjusting his black ball cap, Bouren grins as he tells humorous stories of how he got to San Jose and singlebarrel. He followed a girl here, originally. It didn’t work out. He followed another one to Boise. That didn’t work out either. Wherever he goes, Cache Bouren simply stands out, even when he makes an effort, like now, to keep things low-key. “Single-

“IF YOU’RE USED TO A BAR, YOU’LL NOTICE IMMEDIATELY THAT THINGS HERE ARE DIFFERENT.”

barrel is my maturation,” he says. “At some point, you realize you want more. You evolve into something much more refined. We’re not the best bar on Earth. But I think our process and techniques and level of standards are.” Bouren runs his fingers along the table as if spelling out his thoughts on the surface. “There are bars that have way more history. But you walk in, and you’re lost. They don’t care that you’re there.”

And that’s where singlebarrel is not just a bar owned by someone like Cache Bouren. You realize Cache Bouren and this establishment are one in the same. You don’t just go to a bar, you’re visiting someone’s home. “It’s the room I’ve always wanted off of my house,” Bouren says. “You can’t find that anywhere else. There are some people who walk in, and you can see it the moment they pass the curtains and the space just opens up. They go wide-eyed. They’re in. They’re sold on the whole idea. I share a little harmony with them.”

Funny to talk about all that “opening,” when he’s spent the afternoon talking about his love of confrontation. He pulls up cocktail notes on an iPad with a wallpaper picture of an Old Fashioned made, of course, at singlebarrel. The way he talks about it, though, makes an odd sort of sense. He can’t control your experience if you’re not open. You have to come to terms with the fact you’re going to be denied everything you think you want. Funnier still, is that you’ll thank him for it.

singlebarrel

43 W. San Salvador St. San Jose, CA 95112 408.792.7356

singlebarrelsj.com

Facebook: singlebarrelsj info@singlebarrelsj.com

Picks by Local Mohammad Gorjestani

With a city as big as San Jose, even the most savvy insiders need a local’s advice every now and then.

3 Things I DO

1. I’m the Founder and Creative Director at MKSHFT/CLLCTV. We help brands/ products connect with their audiences through creative media. We work with small business and also larger brands like Facebook and Toyota.

2. I’m also the co-founder/creative director of volio. We are a stealth-mode consumer media startup with backing from Andreesen Horowitz. We’ll be launching this spring with a major publisher.

3. Last, but not least, I’m working on a feature length film backed by the San Francisco Film Society and am a finalist for Sundance Labs. I have a short film I wrote and directed titled “Refuge” premiering in festivals this spring. It was made in San Jose and commissioned by ITVS and PBS

On San Jose

San Jose is where I landed after leaving Iran during the Iran-Iraq war. San Jose is awesome, but there’s room for even more awesomeness. A few more craft cocktail/ beer spots, more farm-to-table restaurants, and a well-curated indie film theatre would be great additions. I think it would be fantastic to establish an interactive music and film festival similar to SXSW, but here in San Jose. San Jose has a ton of potential to be the next Austin, with its own flavor, of course.

Culinary Cred

Out of college, I was a server at two Michelin star restaurants. I’ve lived in Vancouver and San Francisco, and have eaten and drank my way through LA, New York, Portland, and Seattle on many occasions. San Jose has a lot of hidden gems and I hope this list uncovers a few.

mkshftcllc.tv mo@mkshftcllc.tv

1. BAREFOOT COffee

The uniqueness of a roastery & roll-up bar bar smack in the middle of a residential street tipped the scale for me. You’re in for a double treat if resident coffee and hip hop connoisseur David V. Johnson is around to drop some knowledge.

Favorite pick: Gibraltar.

76 Sunol St. San Jose, CA 95126 408.277.0407 barefootcoffee.com

2. TREATBOT

Every city needs an awesome ice cream joint. Treatbot is exactly that for San Jose.

Favorite pick: Tasty Avocado ice cream and their horchata snickerdoodle ice cream cookie sandwich.

87 N. San Pedro St. San Jose, CA 95110 treatbot.com

3. HAY MARKET

While lots of people line up for Bill’s Cafe on any given weekend, I coast over to Hay Market.

Favorite pick: The chayote tacos are a go-to as a vegetarian, and the soups are incredible.

1185 Lincoln Ave. San Jose, CA 95125 408.275.9093 haymarketwillowglen.com

4. Falafel Stop

You can find me over at Falafel Stop usually after I get my haircut at Mr. T’s a couple miles away. They serve the second best falafels I’ve ever had in North America, second only to Nuba in Vancouver, BC

Favorite pick: You can’t go wrong ordering the classic falafel.

1325 Sunnyvale-Saratoga Rd. Sunnyvale, CA 94087 falafelstop.us

5. singlebarrel

I hope downtown San Jose builds around this spot like an NFL team around a quarterback. Everything I’ve had is great, and they pay respects to the classics.

Favorite pick: Bartender’s choice.

43 W. San Salvador St. San Jose, CA 95113 singlebarrelsj.com

6. Good Karma Vegan Cafe

Good Karma is on my list for the incredible beer they have, on draft and bottled. Best beer selection in the Bay Area. There, I said it.

Favorite pick: Pliny the Elder and Ovila Abbey Saison

37 S. 1st St. San Jose, CA 95113 goodkarmavegancafe.com

7. Bijan Bakery

I’m going with Bijan because I’m Iranian and this place tastes like home.

Favorite pick: Almond cookies. Best cookies known to all of the galaxies.

170 S. Market St. Ste. 110 San Jose, CA 95113 bijanbakery.com

8. Chelokababi

Chelokababi has the flavor of my mom’s cooking, without my clothes smelling like Persian food for five days.

Favorite pick: Try the Khask-e-Badamjan, the boneless Joojeh, and don’t forget about the ice cream with Faloodeh.

1236 S. Wolfe Rd. Sunnyvale, CA 94086 chelokababi.com

9. Dio Deka

I wanted to throw in somewhere fancy. Oh, and the food is made with California’s best ingredients, straight to the table with a heavy Greek influence. A total world class experience without the uptight stuffiness.

Favorite pick: I get the silogi and lavraki for dinner, and yiaourti for dessert.

210 E. Main St. Los Gatos, CA 95030 diodeka.com

10. Orenchi

What better way to cure a hangover than with a bowl of ramen? In my opinion, Orenchi is the best ramen house in the Bay Area.

Favorite pick: The vegetarian ramen.

3540 Homestead Rd. Santa Clara, CA 95051 orenchi-ramen.com

Contributors

The production of Content Magazine would not be possible without the talented writers, editors, graphic artists, and photographers who contribute to each issue. We thank you and are proud to provide a publication to display your work. We are also thankful for the sponsors and readers who have supported this magazine through advertisements and subscriptions.

Want to be a part of the Content community?

Contact us at: editor@content-magazine.com

JENNA CLOUSE

Once a San Jose native, Jenna (Morrow) Clouse spent the last 7 years running around the streets of San Diego and now finds herself in Rhode Island. She lives and breathes all things creative and especially enjoys pursuing impossible, nonsensical, and altogether irresponsible sculptural tasks. Jennamorrow.tumblr.com

BRANDON ROOS

Brandon is a freelance writer born and raised in the Berryessa neighborhood of San Jose. A graduate of San Jose State University, Brandon’s most prized local institutions include Streetlight Records and his revered San Jose Earthquakes. In his spare time, he strives to become a tea and cheese aficionado.

Twitter: @BusStopHustle

MOHAMMAD GORJESTANI

Mohammad Gorjestani is an award winning narrative, commercial, and music video director, photographer, and creative director. Currently, he is leading the creative development of an exciting interactive media start-up, in stealth mode. makeshiftcollective.com

Thank You

JUAN PABLO COSTANZO

A native of Uruguay, JP has more than 14 years of diverse experience as an art director and lifestyle photographer. He has a Bachelor of Arts degree in Graphic Design from the Universidad ORT del Uruguay and lives in midtown San Jose with his wife, Andrea, and their two sons, Matteo and Joaquin.

costanzophotography.com

SHONA SANZGIRI

Shona is a writer and editor based in San Jose. His work has appeared in GQ, the New York Times Magazine, and Bookforum He is currently at work on a novel. ssanzgiri@gmail.com

Just over a year ago, we decided to go for it and start our own magazine. We had been dissatisfied with the style and focus of the San Jose magazine landscape at the time, but instead of complaining, we decided to start our own publication. A year later, we have only begun to scratch the surface of exciting and inspiring stories behind the people of the South Bay.

For me, this has become part historical record, part sociological investigation into who we are, and part creative outlet to photograph and get to know my neighbors. I am inspired by the courageous and skilled entrepreneurs in our community and look forward to continuing this collective publication through 2013 and onward.

CONTENT

Thank you for a great first year and we hope you join in NTENT ’s mission to celebrate the people shaping the culture of San Jose. Be Content.

Daniel Garcia the Cultivator

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