2 SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY
¬ NOVEMBER 6, 2013
IN CHICAGO
A week’s worth of developing stories, odd events, and signs of the times, culled from the desks, inboxes, and wandering eyes of the editors
SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY The South Side Weekly is a newsprint magazine produced by students at the University of Chicago, for and about the South Side. The Weekly is distributed across the South Side each Wednesday of the academic year. In fall 2013, the Weekly reformed itself as an independent, student-directed organization. Previously, the paper was known as the Chicago Weekly. Editor-in-Chief Executive Editor Managing Editor
Harrison Smith Claire Withycombe Bea Malsky
Senior Editors John Gamino, Spencer Mcavoy Politics Editor Osita Nwanevu Stage & Screen Hannah Nyhart Editor Music and Zach Goldhammer Video Editor Visual Arts Editor Katryce Lassle Associate Online Sharon Lurye and Contributing Editor Contributing Editors Ari Feldman, Josh Kovensky, Meaghan Murphy Photo Editor Lydia Gorham Layout Editor Olivia Dorow Hovland Online Editor Gabi Bernard Senior Writer Stephen Urchick Staff Writers Dove Barbanel, Jake Bittle, Bess Cohen, Emma Collins, Emily Holland, Jason Huang, Jack Nuelle Staff Photographer Camden Bauchner Staff Illustrators Hanna Petroski, Isabel Ochoa Gold Business Manager
Harry Backlund
5706 S. University Ave. Reynolds Club 018 Chicago, IL 60637 SouthSideWeekly.com editor@southsideweekly.com stagescreen@southsideweekly.com music@southsideweekly.com visualarts@southsideweekly.com
For advertising inquiries, contact: (773)234-5388 advertising@southsideweekly.com
Cover: Photo by Luke White. Correction: Last week’s cover story on Doug Mitchell and the Curtis Black Quartet incorrectly identified Mitchell’s childhood conducting experience. He was the first student of the conductor of the Chicago Youth Symphony, not its first student conductor. The story also misstated the name of trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, who inspired the young Mitchell.
Angry Twitterfolk
Overtime and Over Budget
Back to Back School
Practicing Either Tolerance or Chess
In a small but significant Twitter snafu, the South East Chicago Commission’s 53rd Street proxy handle, @HydePark53, asked the Internet how it would feel if the avenue became open to pedestrians only. Hyde Park’s internet-savvy residents responded with pretty widespread disapproval. The tweet in question included “#trafficstudy” and a rendering of a possible car-less corner at Harper Avenue, leading many to assume that the recent traffic study requested by Alderman Will Burns may have more to do with a cobblestoned 53rd Street than previously thought. In a comment to the SECC, Burns said the study should clear up “the perception v. reality of traffic in Hyde Park.” They might want to start that project in the PR department. By 2016, a new elementary school will ease pressure on two heavily overcrowded institutions on the Southwest Side. Peck and Pasteur elementary schools of West Lawn have both been held up as examples of gratuitously crammed facilities; as of last spring, Peck was at 206 percent capacity, while Pasteur was at 187 percent. The construction comes after this summer’s wave of fifty-plus closings due to district-defined underutilization—a foreign concept at Peck, where the cafeteria is classrooms, classrooms double as lunchrooms, and hallways and closets serve as learning spaces. Perhaps the new building represents a turn away from the district’s embrace of these multi-use facilities, or CPS has just realized that stacking children doesn’t mold high achievers.
In response to a September shooting in a Back of the Yards park that left thirteen wounded, the Chicago Police Department announced a program to put cops on overtime patrol in twenty of the city’s most dangerous parks. Nobody is arguing that the city should have fewer cops on the beat, but the CPD has gotten heat lately from some aldermen over spending. At Thursday’s City Council budget meeting, Police Superintendent Garry McCarthy said that he expects to spend $93 million this year on overtime pay—triple his budget for 2013. McCarthy said the money was needed for Operation Impact, which put more cops in violent parts of the city. But is it time for the CPD to stop paying overtime and start hiring instead? Timur Gareev, a twenty-five-year-old Uzbekistani-American with a talent and penchant for playing multiple chess games blindfolded, took on ten Cook County Jail inmates simultaneously last Friday. The prisoners were the winners of the first tournament in a chess program started by Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart last April that aims to show participants that “thoughtless actions will hurt you while playing chess and hurt you more on the street.” The apparent condescension continued with Gareev arriving straight from a Halloween party, on two hours of sleep and still wearing his costume “of traditional Slavic garb.” Contrary to the beliefs of the Huffington Post, however, this probably says more about the inmates’ patience than it does about the success of Dart’s program.
IN THIS ISSUE garfield
&
hyde park halloween
life and death
kids these days
“To talk about Garfield and Peoria is to talk about St. Basil–Visitation parish.”
peoria
“...cobwebs, mood lighting, and a small town’s worth of skeletons.”
CARMIN CHAPPELL........5
“With white paint as a base, the end product resembles a kind of Jack Skellington.”
“The truth, though, is that Mensa just isn’t as good or as consistent as Chance.”
MIKI TAKESHITA............5
christian belanger..............6
cosmic vibrations
white nile
79th
endangered species
emily holland.......4 “‘Do you know why you were born?’ he asked me when I introduced myself.”
jake bittle..............7 kartemquin’s ali
“As Ali pummels Terrell into submission he repeatedly shouts, “What’s my name!”
olivia markbreiter........12
“...entire planets out of pure sound.”
zach goldhammer..........7 anna, in the darkness
“It should go without saying that the show is scary.”
rob snyder............13
street video
“The rental movie, I think, is the greatest invention on earth.”
“It embodies everything that I think is happening to our race right now.”
goodbye roxaboxen
afrofuturism
“Events felt almost embarrassingly personal—because they were.”
“...the expansive universe of black culture within science fiction.”
isabel gold.............8
emma collins.......13
katherine sacco.....................11
christian belanger...............14
NOVEMBER 6, 2013 ¬ SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY 3
JUNCTURES
garfield boulevard
BY EMILY HOLLAND
peoria street
&
ENGLEWOOD
BACK OF THE YARDS
To talk about Garfield and Peoria is to talk about St. Basil–Visitation parish. Its two landmarks face one another on either side of Garfield Boulevard: Visitation Catholic School and St. Basil’s Church, with Peoria running in between. Today, the church and school communities are both small but vibrant; Father Hernán Moran-Rosero of St. Basil’s speaks fondly of Visitation’s annual Christmas concert, which is held at the church each year and marks a rare instance when the pews are filled. Just a few decades ago, empty seats at St. Basil’s would have been unthinkable, as would a Latino reverend. The St. Basil’s of the 1940s and 1950s was the church where 14th Ward Alderman Ed Burke grew up. As with three 14th Ward aldermen before him, St. Basil’s was, for Burke, “an integral part of the experience growing up in [Englewood].” In an interview, he had little to say about the church as it is now. What he did say was that the community there, as he knew it, had “vanished.” So what happened? Visitation parish has survived in name, but any survey of its population— schoolchildren and churchgoers—reveals that it has been subject to the same demographic changes that transformed Englewood and the Back of the Yards, two neighborhoods divided by Garfield Boulevard, in the middle of the century. While both neighborhoods were almost entirely white, today Englewood is almost entirely black, and Back of the Yards is predominately Latino. The church’s eleven o’clock service is now conducted in Spanish, and its bulletin is printed in two languages. The parish was founded, however, to serve the predominantly Irish population that lived in Englewood before the “white flight” of the sixties and seventies.
camden bauchner source: u.s. census
In November 1949, riots began at 5643 South Peoria, where a mixed-race union gathering was held a block and a half from St. Basil’s. Worried that the presence of blacks meant they were about to occupy the neighborhood, whites gathered in the thousands over the next several days, chanting racial slurs and fighting with neighborhood outsiders. Many of the rioters were parish members; a reverend of the church at the time, Monsignor David Byrnes, had said to his congregation that only “if Irish families remained in the neighborhood would Visitation continue to flourish.” Even so, in 2013 the shift has taken place, and some of the strife seems to have died down. 5643 Peoria is now a vacant lot. And St. Basil’s mission is, after all, not to maintain a demographic but a faith; the bulletin pledges, in English and Spanish, to “continue the work of Jesus here in Englewood and maintain always his presence alive on the Boulevard.” Garfield and Peoria may have served as a crossroads of racial tension, but its spiritual heritage has emerged on top, and the Parish quietly flourishes once more. camden bauchner
4 SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY
¬ NOVEMBER 6, 2013
HALLOWEEN
The Best Trick-orTreating in Hyde Park Harper Avenue on Halloween BY CARMIN CHAPPELL
E
ven when it’s raining, Harper Avenue is a madhouse on Halloween. Last Thursday, between 57th Street and the Midway, the Hyde Park block was overtaken by eager children craving a sugar rush and a good scare. The crowd of several hundred ranged from toddlers—practically life-size versions of the ladybugs and pumpkins they were dressed up as—to teens trying to perfect their I’m-really-too-cool-for-this demeanor. Exhausted parents stood off to the side as their children waited in endless lines to obtain a single piece of candy. Pets were not exempt from the festivities either; many a confused dog trotted down the road—in costume, of course. There were no houses doling out kingsized candy bars, but it’s not hard to realize that the atmosphere, not the treats themselves, was the focal point of the Harper Avenue Halloween experience. The Victorian homes are eerie enough as it is, but every house was also decked out in all things spooky—cobwebs, mood lighting, and a small town’s worth of skeletons. One house built an interactive haunted house in the middle of the road (an annual tradition; last year it was a giant worm), but due to the night’s inclement weather, the unfinished contraption sat covered in plastic wrap, somehow still enhancing the mood. On one tree a giant spider was slung over a branch and jolted around like a piñata to scare unsuspecting trick-or-treaters. A team of teenagers sat on the porch and maneuvered the decoration using a thick wire. One of the helpers said that although he didn’t live in the house, he’s been helping out the owner on Halloween night for “four or five years.” “That spider is like sixteen years old,” he mentioned. Small children shrieked as it swooped down. But there’s something bigger than the decorations and the candy that draws the crowds to Harper Avenue year after year. Two teenage students from the Lab School, donning identical inflatable ostrich suits,
said they keep returning for the community feel. “We’ve been coming to Harper since we were like nothing, like two years old,” one of the girls said. “You see everyone you know. When we were younger at least, everyone from our school would be there, and you’d see everyone’s costume. I’ve never been anywhere else that does so much.” One Harper Avenue resident gave his take on the phenomenon. “We’ve been doing this for seven years now. It’s a lot of fun, you know? Kids come from all over the city. Some of our neighbors have been here for fifteen or twenty years, and it’s been going on since then.” When asked if there was one specific reason that makes Harper Avenue stand out, he merely replied, “The street kind of sums it up, doesn’t it?” ¬
Life and Death The longest-running Día de los Muertos celebration in Pilsen BY MIKI TAKESHITA
I
n the late afternoon on November 1st, Dvorak Park looks bleak. A boy walks briskly across the playground and quickly disappears out of sight, but otherwise the Pilsen park is empty. Inside its East Gym, however, volunteers are carefully applying paint to kids’ faces. With white paint as a base, the end product resembles a kind of Jack Skellington, though kids request hearts, flowers, mustaches, whiskers, and other creative designs on their cheeks and foreheads. Painted like whimsical calaveras, “skulls,” they’re celebrating Día de los Muertos, a Mexican holiday that remembers and honors the deceased. Elevarte, a volunteer-run organization that promotes youth development through free art programs, has been holding this Day of the
Dead event—called Muertos de la Risa with a Sugar Skull Rush in this year’s incarnation—since 1979, making it the longest running Day of the Dead–related event in Pilsen. Youth performers from Elevarte programs Calavera Circus and Aztec Dance Chicago put on a show that features acrobatics, singing, and Aztec dance; following the show is a community procession that starts at Dvorak Park, loops around the immediate area, and enlivens Pilsen in a night of joy and remembrance. “Growing up in a Mexican-American family, we didn’t dive too much into our Mexican roots,” says Lizette Garza, an Elevarte volunteer. “Working here really allows us to come together as a community and celebrate the lives of those who have passed away.” Through the event, Elevarte also hopes to tackle obesity and diabetes. The organization has partnered with The Peoples Cook, a company from the Twin Cities that works with local artists to nourish communities, to help the cause. They serve “Mighty Mixtas,” a Guatemalan hot dog made of corn tortillas, pork or protein substitute, and grilled vegetables. “It’s the perfect balance of protein, starch, and vegetables,” explains Mero Cocinero Karimi, head of the travelling culinary troupe People of all ages and races huddle together in the cold and enjoy their “Mighty Mixtas” as they share stories of family members who have passed away and store energy for the procession. Elevarte’s Day of the Dead brings the community of Pilsen together to find the right balance—not only between food and exercise, but also between fun and respect, and between Mexican and American roots. ¬
hanna petroski
NOVEMBER 6, SOUTH 2013 ¬SIDE SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY 5 NOVEMBER 6, 2013 ¬ WEEKLY 5
Rappers These Days BY CHRISTIAN BELANGER
W
hen Chance the Rapper returns to Hyde Park for his show next weekend at Mandel Hall, it will be seen by many as a sort of homecoming for the young rapper, who earlier this year released his universally acclaimed debut album, “Acid Rap.” Chance has deep roots on the South Side: he grew up here, and has long been involved with the rap crew Save Money. That collective counts Vic Mensa among its members, former lead rapper and singer of the now-disbanded genre-fusion group Kids These Days. But while Chance has soared in his artistic achievements, the latest offerings from Mensa and the other members of Kids These Days have fallen short. Apart from Chance, Kids These Days has been the most successful group aff iliated with Save Money, playing Lollapalooza in 2011 and receiving national acclaim for their unorthodox style, a mixture of soulful rock and hip-hop. The group had been gigging around Chicago since 2009, where they played the local club circuit and amassed a signif icant local following. They f irst came to national attention, though, after a raucous performance at South by Southwest in 2011, and were slated to be the next incarnation of The Roots, albeit a good deal sunnier and catchier. Their sophomore album “Traphouse Rock,” released in 2012 and available for free online, is an enthusiastic blast of horns and hip-hop, with Mensa’s lyrical f low blending neatly in with the rest of the band ’s funk and soul. The album is, in some sense, a joyful exploration of what can happen once the lines that divide genres begin to blur. After the band ’s breakup in early 2013, Mensa stated in an interview with “X XL,” that one reason for the split was that “no one wants to feel stif led when making music” and that, in upcoming projects, having sole control over his artistic vision would lead to a better, “uncompromised ” product. Unfortunately, his latest effort, the free mixtape “Innanetape,” suffers to some extent from its lack of genre-bending; Mensa simply begins to sound like a second-rate Chance.
The truth, though, is that Mensa just isn’t as good or as consistent as Chance. Where Chance is playful, Mensa is frenzied, and at times the album feels like a frenetic, hyperactive attempt to stuff as much wordplay and alliteration as is humanly possible into fourteen songs. Mensa does show f lashes of brilliance on tracks like the amped-up “Tweakin’” or the soulful, rela xing “Orange Soda.” This certainly is not an album to ignore or skip, but the latter half is forgettable, and Mensa’s lyrics are often unintelligible. When Mensa gripes, on “Orange Soda,” about not making a newspaper list of the best Chicago rappers, he argues that “maybe it’s because I’m so much more.” But it’s diff icult to agree with him, if only because he’s chosen not to be “so much more” by leaving a band that was extremely original and exciting for music that sounds somewhat ordinary. What about the rest of Kids These Days? While they haven’t yet off icially released any new music, four members of the band formed Marrow, a slightly blander group. While there’s no indication that Marrow will put out unenjoyable music, it’s diff icult to be very excited about a band that lists their f irst musical inf luence on Facebook as The Beatles, especially considering the previous work of its members. Both Vic Mensa and Marrow may suffer from the same problem: the pressure to continue producing high-quality, original music without necessarily still having the ability. Kids These Days often sounded brash and immature, but there was a refreshing quality to their music that struck a chord with listeners and both artists sound as if they’re struggling to retain it in their new work. Would a band like Kids These Days have been better served by being forced to toil in obscurity for a number of years, ref ining their sound? Did they feel too much pressure to continue producing similar music, and disband as a result? These are diff icult questions, especially since the break-up of the band seems to be a product of the same tension that made their clashing styles so exciting in the f irst place. ¬
6 SOUTH6 SIDE SOUTH WEEKLY SIDE ¬ WEEKLY NOVEMBER ¬ NOVEMBER 6, 2013 6, 2013
Cosmic Vibrations
MUSIC
THROWBACK TRACKS
Jazz legend Phil Cohran plays the Cultural Center
BY JAKE BITTLE
T
here are musicians, and there are maestros; there are those who merely play, and there are those who direct, invent, and invoke new worlds. There is no doubt that South Side jazz legend Kelan Phil Cohran falls squarely in the latter category. Beneath the majestic dome of the Chicago Cultural Center’s performance space, dressed in an Egyptian-inspired, golden headdress and lit up by astronomical projections, Cohran does not look like a musician, but rather like a deity-in-training, or a trainer of deities. Although Cohran’s show at the CCC on Halloween was entitled “A Cosmic Expression,” the space-age projections did not come on until the very last song, a twenty-minute trance-inducing piece called “The Black Whole.” The rest of the show was a hodgepodge of everything from campfire folk tales to thumping brass numbers, with a whole breadth of material in between. For most of the first set, Cohran sat in the rear, majestically stroking his harp. He began the night by reflecting on Chicago as “the greatest city in the world.” Looking around the room, he recalled studying musicology in the very same room in 1953. A smile grew between wisdom-wrinkles on his face as he introduced the first number, a sublime slave spiritual, “Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child,” sung by cosmic diva and Cohran protégée Fanta Celah. A current of bliss and soothing strings ran through the rest of the first set. One of the set’s highlights was an incredible ode to summertime Ethiopia, featuring two dancers who weaved and twirled through the crowd, as well as a chilling recitation of the timeless poem “Ships That Pass In The Night” by Paul Laurence Dunbar—a perennial favorite of Cohran’s—read by Josefe Verna. Cohran closed the first set by reciting an ode to Ethiopia. As he read the ode aloud, his cadre of musicians, dressed in all white, backed him like a chorus of angels. At the start of the second set, Cohran and his company were relieved by the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, a nine-piece brass band from the South Side. Eight of the nine members are sons of Phil Cohran. When Cohran introduced his kin,
“White Nile”
Album: African Skies Album Artists: Kelan Phil Cohran (trumpet, harp, violin-uke, Frankiphone, vocals), Malik Cohran (guitar, flute, double bass), Oscar Brown III (flute, double bass), Josefe Maria Verna (flute, harp, trombone), Aquilla Sadalla (vocals, bass clarinet) Label: Captcha Records Date: Recorded 1993, Released 2010
zach goldhammer
he commented on the fact that he hadn’t raised his children in the comfort of the suburbs. In the back of the Cultural Center, a few members of the audience began chanting “South Side! South Side!” Standing in a line and bobbing ferociously, the ensemble played three songs, which, true to the band’s name, seemed to throw the audience into a series of explosive trances. Several members of the crowd stood up and started dancing as if compelled while tubas and trombones blared at full force. The ensemble’s second tune, a flagship six-minute piece called “Balicky Bon,” had some listeners jumping around and giggling. When the ensemble had finished their set, Cohran stood up and joined them at the front of the stage to recite (again from Dunbar) “A Cabin Tale,” an outlandish folk tale about a bear and a weasel. Cohran stalked the stage and flailed his arms and screamed and squealed the voices of the tale’s different characters. At eighty-six years old, Cohran still shouts and dances with the best of them, and still sizzles with energy when in the throes of his music. Watching him orchestrate “Boon to a Loon,” I got the sense that I was in the presence of someone mythic. Cohran’s true status as a jazz divinity, however, was not fully realized until the lights went down and “The Black Whole”
began. The sprawling piece incorporated singing, shrieking, string music, percussion, and dance; Cohran and his band were illuminated by purple projections of constellations and nebulae. When the piece finally came to an end, I, and most of the audience around me, shivered as if waking from a deep sleep or a long trance. Otherworldly pan-African space-jazz might be an acquired taste, but anyone in Phil Cohran’s presence for an hour has to conclude that what he produces is something a little more than just music. His songs are gathering spaces. This is something not every musician can do: fuse spirit and talent with a history that is simultaneously earthly and cosmic. When I approached him on stage after the show, I was struck dumb by Cohran’s serenity. “Do you know why you were born?” he asked me when I introduced myself. “I don’t know,” I stammered. “Well, you better start lookin’.” “Phil,” I asked, “I have to know. How have you been doing this for so long? What compels you to make music?” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know how you don’t make it.” ¬
One of the most striking recordings in Cohran’s catalogue is “African Skies,” a 1993 concert that the space-jazz pioneer recorded, fittingly, at the Adler Planetarium. The concert was originally held as a tribute to Cohran’s mentor, Sun Ra, who passed away earlier that year. Compared to Corhan’s earlier recordings, “African Skies” is defined by a more meditative melodic mode. A key example of this sound is found on the album’s standout track, “White Nile.” Here, the sounds of the harp and the Frankiphone (Cohran’s trademark modified lamellophone or electric “thumb piano,” named after his mother, Frankie) interweave into an entrancing, harmonic tapestry. The song is defined by a sixnote harp motif that loops throughout the ten-minute duration of the track. Beneath this main figure, other sounds duck in and out of the song. The main rivals to the harp’s prominence are a haunting, wordless vocal line, sung by Aquilla Sadalla, and a subtle trumpet solo played by Cohran himself. The trumpet creeps in near the track’s five-minute mark, at the midway point of the composition. Cohran introduces himself here with a single, breathy note that’s sustained for nearly half a minute. The entire solo is a triumph of restraint, as the trumpet fades away just as quietly as it came in. As the track draws to a close, the string plucks steadily become softer and subtler, and the instruments themselves gradually die away into silence. At the song’s end, there is a feeling of an entire world that is lost. “White Nile” is one of the finest examples of Cohran’s ability to construct entire planets out of pure sound. — ZACH GOLDHAMMER
NOVEMBER NOVEMBER 6, 2013 ¬ 6, SOUTH 2013 ¬SIDE SOUTH WEEKLY SIDE WEEKLY 7 7
luke white
8 SOUTH8 SIDE SOUTH WEEKLY SIDE ¬ WEEKLY NOVEMBER ¬ NOVEMBER 6, 2013 6, 2013
RENTAL
A
t 79th Street Video, a video rental store purported to be the home of Chicago’s largest selection of martial arts movies, founder and owner Russ Pine pulls the movie “Shogun Assassin” out from the shelves. He slams it onto the counter and beams. He says that the film, which features a child in a bulletproof baby carriage, is “the best martial arts movie you’ll ever see.” The cover, which he analyses meticulously, is proudly garish. The title is painted in blood. The shogun assassin himself is painted with a grimacing double chin. His son peeks out from a bloody carriage reminiscent of Ben-Hur’s scythed chariot. Together they frown, their backs facing a sweeping cloud of fire. Pine thoroughly details the immense skill of the baby carriage man and his fierce loyalty to his kin—“no one messes with his kid, the shortie.” He describes the dozens of swordsmen who attempt to hunt him and fail. Pine himself is frail in a stained gray sweatshirt. He hunches from the weight of the oxygen machine slung around his shoulder. And yet, he eagerly grabs a stray ballpoint pen. “Imagine this is six to eight feet long,” he requests, before he spins, slices the air, and whispers whooshing sound effects. When he moves, the mist from his oxygen machine forms parallel dancing arabesque clouds. He wheezes, smiling. “Not many can escape with their lives, let alone harm this man. The shonen always bites off more than he can chew.” “This movie is pretty hardcore,” Pine insists. He flips to its back cover, and points to a screenshot of a man with a sword lodged in his skull. “See?” He flips the movie back to the front. “This movie was also banned in 1983,” he says, and points to the label—“BANNED SINCE 1983!!”—which is adjacent to the equally loud tagline, “HE WHIPS OUT HIS SWORD AND RELIEVES HIS VICTIMS OF THEIR HEADS!!” Pine looks up and smiles. “1983— that’s the year our store opened.”
D
ue to Pine’s declining health, 79th Street Video is slated to close by March 15. “I’m just too sick to take care of everything now,” he explains. From when Pine first opened 79th Street Video in April 1983, the store has accrued a selection of 45,000 movies. “We were bursting at the seams,” he remembers. Robert Hannigan, who snakes around the store’s shelves and places some returned movies into milk crates with the cardboard label “Russ’s Hot picks,” describes the pre-
vious store as “six or seven Blockbusters. You would walk in, and there were rows, rows, and rows of movies.” In 1999 the store moved to its current location, a more modest space on Western Avenue and 81st Street, a few blocks away from their original 79th Street site. The move brought no harm to their business. “Well,” Pine says, “we are on the best, the busiest street in Chicago. There are more cars here on Western Avenue than on any other street. I heard that m o r e than
Alongside posters of snarling samurai, the walls are plastered with grinning women in thongs and stilettos. There are large posters advertising the latest installment of such series as “Nerdzzz.” On the front desk, a worn, laminated catalogue features the more graphic screenshots of available films. A wide selection of male enhancement creams and pills hangs from the counter. To show parts of “Legend of the Fist” (where Donnie Yen, “the greatest kungfu actor” portrays Chen Zheng, “t he
79TH STREET SHOGUN Inside Russ Pine’s video rental dojo BY ISABEL GOLD
50,000 cars drive on this street every hour.” He also notes appreciatively the area’s growing diversity from its white suburban roots. Even now, in the business’ last breaths, Pine continues to purchase and distribute movies, and diligently works to fulfill his customers’ requests. He pulls out a yellowed notebook from his desk. Most of the pages crinkle from the weight of months’ worth of aggressively scrawled ballpoint pen. Some pages have small coffee stains. “If anyone comes in, and asks me ‘Man, I can’t find this film at all,’ I’ll write it down here.” Distractedly, he flips through the pages. Some begin to tear away from their dented spiral spine. “They can ask for anything. If they want hardcore things, if they want adult films, anything X-rated, I’ll put it down. I’ll get the movies fast.” After an hour in the store, this is the first time that Pine has mentioned porn, which is odd, given the place’s décor.
w o r l d ’s greatest martial artist who ever lived”), Pine uses a television covered in stickers that advertise products like the “Nite-Rider” and the “Cockstar.” Often regulars come in and warmly greet Pine—“Uncle Russ”—before flipping through the new porn selections. Others ask about his doctors’ appointments, quietly concerned. Pine affectionately pats one man, whom he lets behind the counter to see that day’s shipment. “This shrimp, he’s my bodyguard.” They both laugh.
T
he store’s journey toward renown began with none other than “Shogun Assassin,” the first martial arts movie added to its inventory. “A customer suggested the movie, and it sounded vaguely familiar. But when I saw the baby carriage, I knew,” says Pine. He had seen the film a few years earlier, and thoughts of the “baby carriage movie”
lingered. “Shogun Assassin,” dubbed in English, is strung together from two movies in the “Lone Wolf and Cub” franchise. The uncannily precocious son, the “shortie” himself, narrates the movie, accompanied by a throbbing, undeniably eighties synthesizer soundtrack. Often, the scenes are painted with bright velveteen blood, and triumphant fountains spray from severed necks. The movie is delightful and ridiculous. But Pine sees more in “Shogun Assassin” than its ceaseless, nonchalant slaughter of unprepared swordsmen. Frankly, Pine isn’t fond of movies with just “killing and blood everywhere,” but he appreciates the movie’s portrayal of honor. He appreciates its storytelling: “this movie is just filled with a fantastic story, a fantastic plot.” “Nowadays, guys mostly want movies with just killing, killing, killing. Not me, though. It has to have a good plot. If it has a good plot with twists and turns, I will love it.” Pine does love movies, and has for decades. Before he owned 79th Street Video, he rented movies every day. In between his two jobs, in between caring for his children, he says, “I wouldn’t sleep—I would watch movies.” Pine started the business with his favorite movies: classics, thrillers, dramas, and deep mysteries. But he was eager for recommendations—he remembers a suggestion box with a giant sign that had been in front of the original store, promising: “If there’s a movie we don’t have, just write it down and we’ll try to get it.” Every two weeks, Pine would purchase the suggested movies. He relied on his customers, his “martial arts maniacs,” to cull his vast selection. “After all,” he says, “who would know more about martial arts than the martial arts maniacs?” The collection grew big enough to appease even the biggest maniac. “The maniacs would come in and they’d say ‘Oh my god, you’ve got “Kid With The Golden Arm!” You’ve got everything!’ ” Distributors who wanted martial arts movies began looking to his store. Pine loves classic movies, but he can still appreciate the changing martial arts industry and the improvement of technique on the part of the actors. “There’s a lot more hand-to-hand combat now,” he explains. “That’s harder to pull off, to choreograph proficiently, than to have swords clinking together.” He pulls out two pens again, and links them together. “See, it’s pretty easy.” Pine does occasionally have bitter customers, who insist that there are no
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RENTAL new good martial arts movies. “I usually ask them what the latest good martial arts movie they saw was, and they usually name a Bruce Lee film. Well, Bruce Lee is great, I tell them, no one can deny that, but I ask if they’ve ever heard of Donnie Yen. Usually they shake their heads.” He chuckles. “Well, then, I tell them, you don’t know martial arts at all.” Pine rushes to the shelves to find one of Donnie Yen’s movies to prove he is the greatest living kung fu actor. He returns, gesturing to a photograph of Yen’s bloodied, rippling chest on the box of “Legend of the Fist.” “He is a magnificent creature,” Pine says. “And to think he was in his late forties then—he’s fifty now and still making movies.” “You know what I think about often,” Pine confides to one regular, staring at the television showing Donnie Yen whip a nunchuck at hoards of enemies. “I think about when I was really into the movies, in the eighties.” These were the days before Pine’s collection had reached the quintuple digits. “I think about what would have happened if instead of making this store, I would have gone over there, if I had gone to China or Japan, and I would have relayed my ideas about the movie theater, about the movie industry.” The customer looks up and slowly nods. “Wow, that would have been something.”
“Y
ou can’t be grumpy to your customers,” Pine insists, “But they can be knuckleheads, sometimes. They’ve got no patience.” He laments their tendency to judge films by their covers. “When I suggest movies to them, they tell me ‘that looks boring.’ I ask them, ‘Did you even read the back cover?’ ” Pine pulls a Blu-ray edition of “War Horse” from the display. “I gave someone ‘War Horse’ a while ago, and they rolled their eyes, said it’s just about a sappy little kid.” He waves the movie around. “A sappy little kid? Don’t tell me that this is just about a sappy little kid. ‘You didn’t watch a minute of it, did you?’ I ask them. And they squirm. Of course they didn’t. They wouldn’t be saying it was about a sappy little kid if they did.” Pine turns around again and brings out the movie “Goodfellas.” “I got in a customer the other day who didn’t want to watch this because the people on the cover were just standing.” Pine rolls his eyes. “Well, I tell him, what do you want them to do, throw a grenade?” 10 SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY
“It’s like in the movie ‘Ran,’ ” Pine says, referencing a 1985 Kurosawa movie centered on three sons who impatiently wait for the abdication of the king, their father. “You’ve got to keep mind over matter. You can’t be impulsive. Haste makes waste.” But Pine does love and care for all his customers, knuckleheads and maniacs alike. “Too many people don’t care about their customers, but I really want to be sure our customers have their needs fulfilled. I’m never going to give a bad suggestion.” So is Pine himself a martial arts maniac? “Oh, no, not at all. I used to be, maybe, a long time ago. But now I’m in my sixties, it’s just too hard to keep up. I leave everything to the true maniacs.” The movies have just become so entwined with his work and his life—“I married my movie distributor,” Pine boasts—that they relinquished their role as a consuming hobby. Pine talks about the vacations that he and his wife take to the Caribbean. He looks to the front counter and shuffles together strewn papers, dog-eared catalogues with women leaning against pickup trucks, hot pink business cards. He brushes them to the side to nestle against the growing pile of relevant movies he had
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luke white
pulled from his store’s shelves to color our conversation. Underneath, he finds a stick of lip balm, and he dabs it against his lips. “I’ve never really watched a movie on vacation, ever.” Maniac or not, Russ Pine without his video store backdrop would feel almost like a martial arts film without the fighting. He
turns to looks back to the vast, disheveled labyrinth of shelved films behind him; the mist emanating from his oxygen machine drifts off into its depths. “The rental movie, I think, is the greatest invention on earth,” he says. ¬
VISUAL ARTS
The Frustration of Hope “Endangered Species” at the DuSable BY KATHERINE SACCO
A
rtist Raub Welch was gardening at his home in Bronzeville when a child approached his fence, asking for money to buy a pair of shoes. Welch, who recently moved from the North Side, was ready with a response. “I had my game face on,” he remarked. Assuming the child was trying to hustle him, Welch refused. He was subsequently astounded to learn that the child had no father. “That’s not possible,” Welch thought to himself. “I started developing scenarios of why this kid didn’t have a father.” And so his most recent art exhibit began to take shape. Welch recounted this jarring experience in a conversation with Madeline Murphy Rabb at the DuSable Museum, where his exhibit, “The Endangered Species: A Visual Response to the Vanishing Black Man,” is currently on display. A mostly black audience sat in narrow rows of folding chairs in the negative space between DuSable’s galleries. Welch is black, but he feels himself to be something of an outsider. As he went on to explain, he grew up on a 960-acre farm in southern Illinois, far removed from the experience of urban racial identity that confronted him upon moving to Bronzeville with his family. “I didn’t understand that blackness,” Welch observed. “I was a farm kid.” “The Endangered Species” envisions a future in which the black male is extinct and white viewers have come to see an archaeological reconstruction of what he once was. Welch’s works surge beyond this imaginative premise to present pressing questions about the current state of African-American manhood, exploring themes of identity, masculinity, oppression, responsibility, and the frustration of hope. In one of the pieces, four typewriters present pieces of paper, each printed with a word: “negro,” “colored,” “black,” and “African-American.” The first three words are crossed out in red ink, while the final one bears a question mark. Welch explained that it represents the attitude that “we’re just not the right type.” He elaborated, “We’re always searching for something, something that will give us power.” He was not afraid to be critical, and
phillip p. thomas
“Negro Gabriel and the Final Shot,” Raub Welch. blunt. Of the black male, he remarked, “This is a beautiful body. This is a beautiful person. Why is it demonized to the point that I start to hate it?” Welch’s art demands that the viewer
critically examine aspects of black male identity—love, religion, consumption, vanity. In one prominent section of the exhibit, resin-coated canvasses depicted black male models stripped to their underwear,
each one drawn into three-dimensional collages with found objects from Welch’s extensive collections. Objects stand on their own in other works, such as “The Golden Imitation of the Parade of Spades.” This piece, composed of found letters rendered precious by gold leafing, highlights the innovative capabilities of black people throughout history. “Black just comes with innovation. You’re given the worst of every situation,” Welch explained. “We’ve always had to do this.” Welch’s art expresses sympathy toward the plights of the black man, while at the same time presenting an urgent criticism and warning. One of the centerpieces of the exhibit, a work entitled “The Evolution of a Slave,” occupies the rear wall of the gallery space with four panels depicting the evolution of a black man from slavery to the modern day. In the final panel, the recurring male figure casts his head down in a distressing depiction of retreat towards the primal state in which he began. According to Welch, “It embodies everything that I think is happening to our race right now.” “I’m very candid,” he cautioned the audience, as he spoke about his experiences of frustration with the black community. “We’re the only people in the world that, when you get something nice, someone says you’re trying to be someone else,” Welch lamented. The audience murmured in agreement. His disparaging remarks about the north-south divide in Chicago proved more contentious. “I have very negative images of the South Side,” Welch said sadly, but not apologetically. “I feel like the air is even better on the North Side. I feel like the trees are even greener.” Welch’s recent effort to line his street in Bronzeville with trees floundered, because a neighbor feared the trees would harbor drug dealers. Nevertheless, he showed hints of hope. As he said of his show: “At the end of the day, it’s a call for us to save ourselves.” ¬
NOVEMBER 6, 2013 ¬ SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY 11
STAGE & SCREEN
Ali Standing Still Kartemquin’s “The Trials of Muhammad Ali” BY OLIVIA MARKBREITER
B
ill Siegel’s new documentary, “The Trials of Muhammad Ali,” introduces us to Ali as an Olympic champion. In a truly impressive collection of footage, he is seen standing on the Olympic podium, discussing his boxing prowess with reporters, and generally declaring his invincibility to the world. In 1960, at the age of eighteen, Ali was already threatening to become the World Heavyweight Champion. Siegel sets the scene primarily through the words of equally arrogant white reporters: Ali will never do this; he’ll be beaten to a pulp; why can’t he stop talking for one minute? Of course, Ali shocks the world (but not the audience) by trouncing the reigning champion, Sonny Liston. Yet Siegel makes it seem like this enormous upset neither required nor produced any personal growth. We never see the drastic physical and mental transformation that one usually associates with training athletes, even when Ali is preparing for the fight. There is no footage of him struggling, physically or emotionally. Ali’s strong character is portrayed as an eventuality or a permanent entity, instead of a real achievement or a process. In one of the best boxing scenes, we see Ali’s fight against Ernie Terrell, another famous black heavyweight, who refused to use Ali’s chosen name. In typical Ali style, this existential battle is settled in the ring, and as Ali pummels Terrell into submission he repeatedly shouts, “What’s my name!” Perhaps Ali’s certitude and constancy is in itself an argument for the things that he believed in: black power, black manhood, and the freedom of religion. All of these rely on a strong sense of identity, a pride and courage that comes from knowing who you are. Thus, Siegel equates conviction with permanence, a sense of self with a stasis of self. Even when Ali converts to the Nation of Islam and takes on a new name, it’s treated more as an eventuality than a change. He rejects his “slave name,” Cassius Clay, and then receives his new name, Muhammad Ali. For Siegel, this new name embodies all of the ideals Ali stands for after joining the Nation, all of the convictions that he now adopts as his 12 SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY
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own. But Siegel’s romanticized notion of Ali’s name as the expression of his true self seems bizarre, once it is revealed that this name was actually given to him by Elijah Muhammad. Does Ali ever doubt himself? Does he ever question the authority of the Nation of Islam? In transitioning from a simple athlete to a political hero, does he ever really change? Siegel then transitions into what is meant to be the climax of the movie and the perfect opportunity for Ali to evolve— that is, Ali’s decision to become a conscientious objector to the Vietnam War. Stripped of his title and the ability to box in almost every state, Ali turns to public speaking as a means of support. Siegel very capably shows the irony of Ali’s trial: the effort to silence him actually forced him to speak more clearly. Siegel uses oftentimes moving and understated footage of Ali struggling through his first few speeches, stumbling against college students with
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long and pointed questions. And yet, in this supposedly formative moment, it’s hard to find any change deeper than basic speaking skills. Ali’s presentation evolves but his message remains the same: this last and greatest challenge provides only the most superficial development, and Siegel ultimately celebrates that our hero seems unaffected by his struggles. “The Trials of Muhammad Ali” gives us a portrait of Ali’s courageous convictions and an energized account of the public efforts to suppress, change, and demean those beliefs. But Siegel does this without questioning the beliefs themselves, or exploring where they came from. Even at the end of the movie, when Ali is very clearly different (at the Olympics again, but this time visibly suffering from Parkinson’s), Siegel seems eager to tell us that he’s somehow still the same. If Ali ever does change, it is only to better become what he (and we) already knew him to be; that is, Siegel
presents every trial as an opportunity for Ali to somehow become “more himself.” This film appears to glorify the transcendence and permanence of self, while deliberately ignoring the construction of self. Kartemquin, the documentary film house behind the movie, was initially unsure whether or not to support it. As a spokeswoman from Kartemquin stated before an early screening at the DuSable Museum, Kartemquin mainly focuses on “character-driven stories,” and worried that Ali was too much of a historical figure. But this is how he comes off. Instead of developing a character who experiences climactic moments of transformation, the film glorifies Ali because he never transforms. In “The Trials of Muhammad Ali,” although the trials our hero faces rapidly change, from boxing matches to religious oppression to political disenfranchisement, Ali himself stands still. ¬
ARTS
A Basement Haunting
“Anna, In The Darkness,” a Halloween tradition at Dream Theatre BY ROB SNYDER The stage for “Anna, in the Darkness” looks like your basement. In fact it is a basement—that of Dream Theatre’s indistinctive building on 18th Street. The distinctiveness is to be found below ground, in the form of dusty rugs, clutter on the shelves, and a moose head your dad bought twenty years ago that was immediately deemed inappropriate for the aesthetic of the living room. There are only about twenty seats in the room, half of them in the front row—not quite the intimacy of “Anna’s” sister production, also written by Jeremy Menekseoglu, wherein only four audience members are allowed at a time, one of whom must prominently interact with the performers. The title of that play, “Audience Annihilated Part Two,” channels Dream Theatre’s expressed goal: to shatter the barrier between actor and audience. “Anna in the Darkness” is a one-per-
son show about a woman of questionable psychological stability, as she lies awake in the wee hours of the morning, haunted. She tells us she is cursed. The townspeople are out to get her for an unrevealed (at least at first) reason, cutting her power, creeping around her house in the middle of the night, shouting at Anna and throwing notes tied to bricks through the window. She claims she’s been ostracized from the school—she’s a special education teacher—and her church, where the pastor has denounced her as satanic. The turmoil is nothing new to Anna—we learn that her past was equally as tormented as her present. Tonight, though, is the end: the latest brick reads, “3 A.M.” The audience is left to wonder how Anna could ever deserve the torture she’s being subjected to, and whether anyone’s actually out to get her after all. The play’s runtime is a brisk forty-five
minutes, and Megan Merrill, as Anna, captures and holds the audience’s attention for every second. Her performance masterfully reiterates the all-too-common notion of the hysterical woman. When, toward the beginning of the play, Anna reads out a death threat in a subtle southern accent, one imagines inbred, Bible-thumping, “Deliverance”-esque enemies out to get her for preaching, like, feminism or something. But Merrill doesn’t let you dwell on this while the lights are off. She shivers on the stage, clutching her tattered clothes, fidgeting, scurrying around the basement, collapsing into a small heap when a scream comes out of nowhere. Anna blurts out everything in stream-of-consciousness, confiding in us about her strange encounters with the townsfolk and nervously commenting on the voices and noises in a wideeyed, stammering way that calls her sanity into question.
It should go without saying that the show is scary. Sudden screams and loud noises sporadically interrupt Anna’s narration, putting everyone in the room on edge. Anna looks terrified, and she makes you feel terrified, too. It’s a testament to Merrill’s ability to immerse the audience that the dream sequences, with creepy narration ripped from what sounds like a movie, cause you to grip your armrest rather than make you giggle from the cheesiness. “Anna, in the Darkness” is something of a Halloween tradition at Dream Theatre, and it suits its role well. It doesn’t offer an innovative plot or any new insight about women, sanity, or social outcasts, but Megan Merrill, by the force of her will, tears you away from your world and brings you into Anna’s, to hear a scary story on a chilly October night. ¬
Roxaboxen: An Obituary BY EMMA COLLINS
R
oxaboxen Exhibitions, a Pilsen art space and an integral element of Chicago’s burgeoning DIY art scene, closed on Friday, November 1, after four years in the neighborhood. The gallery is survived by Roxaboxen’s five former tenants, who all plan to continue their artistic pursuits in new locations. “All art spaces have a life span in a way,” Virginia Aberle, a two-year resident of the space, remarked. “You reach a certain point and you want to grow into a different avenue, move somewhere else.” Roxaboxen was a hub of artistic exploration that welcomed creativity in any incarnation, including music, dance, theater, and more. Its curatorial statement presented the building as a place “where collective members and the voluntary community have space to work, live, think, discuss, and collaborate on a variety of interests that may not normally have a place to thrive.” Roxaboxen began as a DIY music space when it opened in November of 2009, and evolved into a highly sought-after location for up-and-coming artists to showcase their work. It also served as a
de facto community center for Pilsen’s art crowd, periodically hosting knitting circles, yoga classes, rummage sales, karaoke nights, film screenings, and the like. On major holidays, a medley of festively attired Chicagoans would migrate to the gallery, where they huddled together in the dark to watch horror movies on Halloween or fill the air with drunken caroling around the Yuletide. The gallery was a stalwart participant in the wider Chicago art scene. It regularly partnered with such institutions as the University of Chicago, Columbia College Chicago, the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and CPS on exhibitions. But Roxaboxen also maintained its distinct flavor until the bitter end, remaining fiercely loyal to its DIY roots. Events felt almost embarrassingly personal—because they were. Artists were always a friendly presence at openings; members of featured bands and theater troupes often hung around after their performances to party with guests—many of whom were close friends. Above all, Roxaboxen retained the
uniquely DIY spirit of inclusive exclusivity. While their advertising was sometimes opaque, and their events shrouded in mystery, anyone who managed to attend was welcomed without hesitation. The culmination of the gallery’s four years of operation has been decidedly bittersweet. “The building’s great but in a way it felt like another person we had to work with,” said Aberle. “At times we were fight-
ing against the building—it was so big and old.” “All of us are a really close knit family,” said Aberle, of the artists and other Chicagoans associated with the space. “Roxaboxen will live on in a way because of all our ties.” ¬
NOVEMBER 6, 2013 ¬ SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY 13
BOOKS
A Trip to Space Ytasha L. Womack reexamines Afrofuturism BY CHRISTIAN BELANGER
W
hen Ytasha L. Womack, author of the newly released “Afrofuturism,” walked into 57th Street Books for a chat and signing this Saturday, she didn’t immediately stand out. Upon closer inspection, however, there was something a little more off beat to this young woman with the bright smile and lively presence, dressed stylishly in black: her bracelets and rings carried strange, intricate illustrations, and she wore lipstick and eye shadow the color of a blue raspberry Jolly Rancher. Her book talk, too, began innocuously enough, with Womack telling the story of how she was exposed to the expansive universe of black culture within science fiction and other popular media in her college years. But it quickly veered off to touch upon, among other things, the idea of race as a type of technology (i.e., a man-made creation), how alien abduction relates to the slave trade, and how science fiction can be used to revive past cultures as well as imagine future ones. As a popular explanation of a theory that has long been present in African-American academia, Womack’s talk was heavily sprinkled with relatable pop-culture references. Womack updated and explained longstanding ideas, providing the audience with a clear description of what exactly Afrofuturism is. Afrofuturism (both the book and the artistic movement) is, according to Womack, about “the intersection between black culture, technology, liberation, and a little bit of mysticism.” The marginalization of African-Americans within science fiction and fantasy has been well documented. (Take, for instance, the slightly tonguein-cheek, though often fairly accurate assertion that the black guy always dies first in a horror movie.) Afrofuturistic works attempt to rectify this by imagining a world of mostly black characters, or future societies that have distinct connections to African cultures like the Yoruba or Dogon. It is also an optimistic vision, positing that current struggles and challenges can be overcome to produce a post-racial, fully equal world. Womack conceives of race as a weap14 SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY
cover art and design: ioe ostara, john jennings
on created a couple hundred years ago in order to justify discrimination against and enslavement of Africans. In nature, she writes, racial divisions don’t spring up in the same way tribes or cultures do; racial divisions are a social creation, invented mostly by Western Europeans in order to justify early enslavement of Africans by portraying them as inferior. By removing the designation of race, imposed originally by outsiders, Afrofuturists hope to encourage all people to choose which groups they want to belong to for themselves. Afrofuturism, Womack claims, can “take you to a space where you can look at yourself and your world more objectively.” At 57th Street Books, Womack was a charismatic, engaging presence, deftly answering audience questions and explaining some of her more complicated ideas. Her
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book, on the other hand, is not always so clear. A deeply personal piece of journalism, “Afrofuturism” overflows with purple prose, stuffing pop-culture references and space-laden metaphors into stilted, awkward sentences. At other times, she reaches for short, pithy summation, but simply leaves the reader feeling confused and alienated (pun intended) from the text. Still, the ideas presented in her talk can be found in greater detail in the book, making for a reading experience that is often deeper and more interesting than a brief chat. Her explanations of ancient African cultural motifs that continually resurface in Afrofuturist art and literature—as in the music of space-jazz legend and South Side fixture Sun Ra or the sci-fi novels of Octavia Butler—are intriguing and concise. As she finished her talk, Womack
looked at her audience’s stunned expressions and quipped: “You all look like you just got off a spaceship!” Chuckles rang out around the room, which included two men who once helped Public Enemy shoot a video in Chicago, Sun Ra’s self-proclaimed greatest fan, and a man who took copious notes and rang out with exclamations of assent after every one of Womack’s sentences. People began to mill about and voice their thoughts, which appeared to be some combination of agreement and mild confusion. Womack herself finally sat down, picked up someone’s copy of her book, and signed her name. “I’ll be here for a while,” she said knowingly, “answering people’s questions.” ¬ Afrofuturism, Ytasha L. Womack. Lawrence Hill Books. 213 pages.
ARTS CALENDAR VISUAL ARTS
STAGE & SCREEN
Lopsided Heart
County of Kings
Vivienne Marie, a Bridgeport-based artist and painter, describes her work with antiques and other everyday objects as an attempt to “evoke a feeling of closeness…and foster a feeling of appreciation from a world that is now so drastically different.” One of her main influences is the beloved children’s classic “The Velveteen Rabbit,” a book about a stuffed toy that is loved so much it falls to pieces. Marie’s assemblages and paintings strive to create and illuminate beauty in broken, ruined items. Ugly Step Sister Gallery, 1750 S. Union Ave. November 8-December 8. Opening reception Friday, November 8, 6pm-11pm. Saturday-Sunday, noon-6pm. Also by appointment. (312)927-7546. uglystepsisterartgallery. com (Christian Belanger)
Lemon Andersen has seen his fair share of the spotlight’s glare, and the piercing beam of biography, auto- and otherwise. His “stage memoir,” “County of Kings,” comes to the Beverly Arts Center after running in a Spike Lee–backed New York production and being featured at university campuses across the country. The show follows its one man from the streets of New York’s boroughs through an ascent built of art and fame. The narrative has its roots in eighties and nineties Brooklyn, where Andersen, the son of an addict who dies too young, will become a dealer himself, before embarking on a path that finds him on screens and stages big and small. New Chicago group The Collective Theatre Company hosts, and co-founder Metra Gilliard raves, “It’s the type of authenticity you want to see.” While we’re unsure what other types there are, it’s nice to know something authentic can still come out of Brooklyn. Beverly Arts Center, 2704 W. 111th St. Friday, November 8, 7pm. $25. (773)4453838. beverlyartcenter.org (Hannah Nyhart)
Resisterectomy
Artist Chase Joynt, currently working and teaching at the UofC as a visiting artist and scholar, takes on the dynamic narratives of mastectomy and hysterectomy patients with the aptly titled exhibition “Resisterectomy.” Juxtaposing the stories of cancer patients and trans men, Joynt brings up questions about embodiment, gender identities and boundaries, and the implications of these surgeries for each patient. By undergoing these procedures both cancer patients and trans men must confront and relate to their gender identities in vastly different ways, and “Resisterectomy” explores these personal narratives in a surprising and thought-provoking exhibition. Gray Center for Arts and Inquiry, Midway Studios, 929 E. 60th St., Ste. 112. Opening reception Monday, November 11, 5pm-7pm. Artist talk Wednesday, November 13, 3pm. By appointment only. Free. (773)834-1936. graycenter.uchicago.edu (Katryce Lassle)
Tools of the Trade There’s plenty of anti-establishment conceptual art out there, but Lindsay Olson’s “Tools of the Trade: A Resident’s View of Law Enforcement” is the exact opposite. Having served as artist in residence for the Oak Park Police Department from 2008-12, Olson worked to create a collection of multimedia conceptual art that captured the real “tools of the trade” in law enforcement: handcuffs, of course, but also ballpoint pens and a lot of written text. The collection asserts that all members of the force, whether behind the wheel of a patrol car or behind a desk at headquarters, deserve to be recognized and appreciated for their efforts in keeping Chicago safe. This traveling exhibition will be at the Beverly Arts Center for a limited time, so hurry over there—and maybe leave the contraband at home. Beverly Arts Center, 2407 W. 111th St. Through December 1. Monday-Friday, 9am-5pm; Saturday, 9am-5pm; Sunday, 1pm-4pm. Free. (773)445-3838. beverlyartscenter.org (Katryce Lassle)
Street of Dreams If a band of rogue street artists were set loose in London’s National Portrait Gallery, the result would likely resemble the works of Eddwin Meyers in his exhibition “Street of Dreams.” Meyers scrawls provocative, colorful messages across paintings that depict historical subject matter in a decidedly traditional style. This unlikely coupling explores the interplay of past and present and examines the role of modern individuals in the perpetually unfolding American sociopolitical narrative. Meyers’s work also attempts to uproot commonly held perceptions of society, begging for a reevaluation of American culture and the deeply ingrained social and political “truths” that many take for granted. He accomplishes this in a way that is at once humorous and dynamic. For a taste of art that invites raucous political and social discourse infused with a pointed sense of humor, don’t miss “Street of Dreams.” 33 Contemporary Gallery, 1029 W. 35th St. Through November 14. Monday-Sunday, 10am-5pm. Free. (708)837-4534. 33collective.com (Emma Collins)
(cohesion) For your regular dose of meta-art, take a trip to Zhou B Art Center’s newest exhibition, “(cohesion).” A handful of artists have come together to present a collection of multimedia works about making things come together. From mixing paints and crossing mediums to the synergistic nature of the exhibition itself, “(cohesion)” is a seemingly infinite conceptual tongue twister. An exploration in building larger works and concepts by gathering from every aspect of the artists’ talents—from tried-and-true techniques to forays into experimentation—“(cohesion)” promises to melt your brain with an endless pattern of small particles coming together to produce things larger than themselves. But that’s only if you think too hard about it. Zhou B Art Center, 1029 W. 35th St. November 15-January 12. 10am-5pm. Free. (773)523-0200. zhoubartcenter.com (Katryce Lassle)
An Iliad Too often we misconceive the idea of the unfathomable—we believe it is generated by multitudes, sheer symphonies of sounds. Yet in “An Iliad,” we find that a single voice is all that is necessary—one man’s voice can give rise to the unfathomable and overwhelm us. Timothy Edward Kane will present Homer’s classic in Court Theatre from November 13 to December 8, calling the audience back to a time when poets would recite these epic stories from memory. Hear the glory of Achilles and Hector, experience the full gamut of human emotion and suffering, and understand the animalistic depths of man. Court Theatre, 5525 S. Ellis Ave. November 13-December 8. See site for showtimes and prices. (773)7534472. courttheatre.org (William Rhee)
Traviata Famed Italian dance company Artemis Danza lends gesture to Giuseppe Verdi’s swelling opera “La Traviata,” “The Fallen Woman.” The company brings Verdi’s narrative of love and the forces that thwart it to explosion as dancers form throngs at turns ecstatic and strangled. “Traviata” is one installment of Artemis Danza’s series of Verdi adaptations, and tells the tale of the enamored young elite Alfredo and the tragically ill Violetta. The company offers what one Italian paper names a “feminist and feminine” portrayal, including a heroine who doesn’t share her name with a pasta dish. The Chicago rendition is one of just two U.S. performances before the venerated company returns to its small, boot-shaped land of high art, and leaves us our reality TV. Logan Center for the Arts, 915 E. 60th St. Thursday, November 14, 8pm. See site for prices. (773)702-2787. arts.uchicago.edu (Hannah Nyhart)
Consuming Spirits Animated frame by frame in 16mm, twenty-four framesper-second, it’s no wonder that Chris Sullivan’s “Consuming Spirits” took fifteen years to complete. Most of the film is done using paper, ink, and a camera; its style shifts between stop-motion cutout puppets and more traditional animation, with other sections filmed on tiny model sets. Described as “rust-belt gothic,” the film tells the story of three run-down individuals in a run-down Appalachian town and their loneliness, secrets, and a local gardening radio show that errs on the side of metaphor. Sullivan’s mostly self-composed soundtrack further adds to the hypnotic atmosphere of story, adding tension to the most mundane moments. The green, yellow, and white-tinged faces of the puppets are almost grotesque, and their voices echo as from within a dream. The dark and inescapable realism of forgotten small-town America gets mixed with the surreal, hinting at something sinister beneath the surface. As it turns out, the mundane might be the most sinister thing of all. Logan Center for the Arts, 915 E. 60th St. Friday, November 22, 7pm. Free. (773)702-8596. filmstudiescenter.uchicago.edu (Bailey Zweifel)
If Scrooge Was a Brother
The boisterous musical is an indispensable Christmas tradition, every bit as important as drunken renditions of Mariah Carey standards, knickknacks from the Lincoln Park Zoo, or those worried dads who crowd the aisles of the American Girl Doll and Disney stores around Water Tower Place every December. But a lot of the holiday season falls outside the frame of that Christmas-card-classic homogeneity, and some traditions can take an update. At eta, “If Scrooge Was a Brother” remixes Dickens’ 170-year-old story for a new kind of classic. From October 31, see Ebeneezer Scrooge as he tries to come to terms with his race and the Christmas spirit, soundtracked by hip-hop renditions of “Joy to the
World.” eta Creative Arts Foundation, 7558 S. South Chicago Ave. Through December 29. See site for prices and showtimes. (773)752-3955. etacreativearts.org (Patrick Leow)
MUSIC Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Camp Lo and Rhymefest Next month, two of the greatest rap duos of all time—Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth and Camp Lo—will be reuniting at the Shrine. Both groups were legendary for their top-notch production, with tracks produced by Pete Rock (a.k.a. Soul Brother #1, a.k.a. Chocolate Boy Wonder) and Ski Beats, respectively. Both groups also produced some of the greatest gems of early nineties hip-hop, with Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth’s “T.R.O.Y. (They Reminisce Over You)” and Camp Lo’s “Luchini” representing two decade-defining jams. Top it all off with a Chicago twist, these New York superstars will be joined at the Shrine by everybody’s favorite former 20th Ward alderman candidate/rapper, Che “Rhymefest” Smith. The Shrine, 2109 S. Wabash Ave. Friday, November 8, 9pm. 21+. (312)753-5700. theshrinechicago.com (Zach Goldhammer)
Rat Hammer The Bandcamp tags pretty much say it all: “PUNK DIY ROCK USA.” Rat Hammer (hammer for rats? a rat that is also a hammer?), a four-man rock-punk outfit from Humboldt Park, will be playing songs from their “Scumboldt Park” EP at Reggies Music Joint next Monday. They thrash, they scream, they take their shirts off—and show off some sweet Descendents tats in the process. Want two-minute songs about apathy and drone warfare that hit like power drills at 125dB? You know where to be. Rat Hammer may not have an LP to their name just yet, but they already know how to put on a show. They’re recording an album this very month, too, so stay tuned for that. And you know what? Vocalist Johnny Wilson actually has a pretty nice voice. The Desert Vest and Wooden Planes will be around as well to share the scuzz. Go forth and get RatHammered. Reggies Music Joint, 2105 S. State St. Monday, November 11, 7:30pm. Free. 21+. (312)949-0120. reggieslive.com (Cindy Dapogny)
Eclectic Ladyland Joe Bryl is back at it again. This week he will be spinning a show at Maria’s in tribute to the music of another Midwestern music mecca: Detroit. The eclectic playlist will be hopscotching between the Motor City’s electronic genres, showcasing the finest in techno, house, and electric soul. The set is also a celebration of “In The Dark: Detroit Is Back,” a new compilation from Still Music. The Chicago-based label became renowned in 2004 for its release of various Detroit electronic pioneers, including J Dilla’s famed friend and mentor, Amp Fiddler. Bryl will be joined by Still Music’s founder and resident DJ, Jerome Derradji, who will be de-
buting tracks from the label’s release. The set will hopefully build upon a long-standing exchange between these two cities and their shared legacies of musical greatness. Maria’s Packaged Goods and Community Bar, 960 W. 31st St. Wednesday, November 13, 8pm-2am. Free. 21+. (773)890-0588. community-bar.com (Zach Goldhammer)
K. Michelle The R&B singer best known for “Fakin’ It”—a 2009, Missy Elliott–assisted lament for false climaxes—is playing at the Shrine next month. Though Michelle hasn’t quite been able to top the success of her (anti)-climactic hit, she has nonetheless been seen as an important advocate for underrepresented feminist issues in mainstream pop music. The Crunk Feminist Collective highlighted her, along with Kelly and Janelle Monae, as an important voice for “sex-positive, pro-pleasure” black women. The article cites her 2013 single, “I Just Wanna Fuck” as an example of an R&B artist “flipping the script” on traditional gender roles in an industry dominated by chauvinism and female objectification. The question remains, though: is K. Michelle a real deal, sex-positive feminist superstar in the making, or is she just faking? The Shrine, 2109 S. Wabash Ave. Friday, November 15, 9pm. 21+. (312)753-5700. theshrinechicago.com (Zach Goldhammer)
The AACM “NOW” Generation One of the AACM’s premier ensembles, the “NOW” Generation consists of trumpeters Ben Lamar Gay and Jerome Croswell, multi-reedist Fred Jackson Jr., cellist Tomeka Reid, and vocalist Saalik Ziyad. Together, these artists represent blues, hip-hop, avant-garde orchestral, and decades of jazz music. It’s hard to know what these musicians will unleash when put together, but it’s a given that it’ll live up to the AACM’s reputation for innovation. South Side Community Art Center, 3831 S. Michigan Ave. Saturday, November 16, 4pm. (312)834-3390. aacmchicago.org (Noah Kahrs)
Chance the Rapper The South Side’s prodigal hip-hop wunderkind, Chance the Rapper, will soon be returning to Chi-Town. The raspy voiced rapper will be playing a show in Hyde Park—as the headliner for the University of Chicago’s fall concert—as well as at North Side venue the Riviera Theatre. The rapper has continued to progress in leaps and bounds this year, following up his promising “10 Days” mixtape with the monumental success of his debut album, “Acid Raps.” Chance’s clever, smart aleck rhymes and sing-song flow has proven to be a powerful counterpunch to the city’s drill rap scene, defined by its syntactically simple lyrics and guttural deliveries. As Chance’s South Side–based Save Money crew continues to gain traction, the upcoming year may prove to be huge for the rapper and his Chicago cohort. Come catch a rising star as he plays before the hometown crowd this November. The Riviera Theatre, 4746 N. Racine Ave. Friday, November 29, 7:30pm. $21. (773)275-6800. jamusa.com (Zach Goldhammer)
WHPK Rock Charts WHPK 88.5 FM is a nonprofit community radio station at the University of Chicago. Once a week the station’s music directors collect a book of playlist logs from their Rock-format DJs, tally up the plays of albums added within the last few months, and rank them according to popularity that week. Compiled by Rachel Schastok and Charlie Rock Artist / Album / Label 1. Night Beats / Sonic Bloom / Reverberation Appreciation Society 2. Power Trip / Manifest Decimation / Southern Lord 3. Homostupids / New York Jammin’ / Hozac 4. Skeletonwitch / Serpents Unleashed / Prosthetic 5. !T.O.O.H.! / Democratic Solution / s/r 6. Uh Bones / Only You / Randy 7. Kyle Landstra / The Illusion of Becoming / Field Studies 8. Laurel Halo / Chance of Rain / Hyperdub 9. Ulcerate / Vermis / Relapse 10. Ron Morelli / Split / Hospital 11. Strange Forces / I’d Rather Listen To The Bloody Beats / Under Fire is Born 12. The Body / Christ, Redeemers / Thrill Jockey 13. Jessica Pratt / s/t / Birth 14. Andrew Pekler / Sentimental Favourites / Dekorder 15. The Julie Ruin / Run Fast / TJR/Dischord
NOVEMBER 6, 2013 ¬ SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY 15