9 minute read
Artist Spotlight
Mona Stratos
Mona Stratos
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Special to Worcester Magazine USA TODAY NETWORK
Artist Mona Stratos was born in Massachusetts, went to the Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia and lived many years in New York City and Westchester County, rich with the history of the Hudson River School. For the past 20 years she has lived in Woodstock, Connecticut, landscape painting, traveling to the shores of the Cape to her beloved Provincetown, home to generations of ancestors who fished from schooners that traveled to the Grand Banks, to the rugged coast of Maine and the mountains of New Hampshire. Her primary medium is oil. She has won awards for her paintings from the Cape Cod Art Association where she was an elected artist to Lyme Art Association placing first for New England Landscape show juried by Don Demers. She has exhibited in many juried shows from Connecticut Plein Air Painters and the Connecticut Academy of Fine Arts. These days Mona can mostly be found working in her studio on large format works of still lives as well as the landscapes of New England.
“Red Skies at Night”
LISTEN UP
‘Stanton Capitol Presents’ a rich and soulful showcase for Worcester rappers
Victor Infante
Columnist Telegram & Gazette USA TODAY NETWORK
If there’s a central thesis the local hip-hop collaboration, “Stanton Capitol Records Presents: Vol. 1,” it’s delivered by Worcester rapper K’Nen, in the album’s second song, “Figure it Out.” “I gotta figure it out,” raps K’Nen with a melodic flow. “Swear we seen so much just wanna change ya thoughts/ Can we figure it out/I know that time hard and left us out to starve but we figured it out/ Now it’s time to tell outside grab ya hearts and close your eyes while we figure it out.”
What SCR – which comprises rappers K’Nen, Jafet Muzic and Danny Fantom, along with featured rapper Giankno and a handful of other artists – accomplishes here is the portrait of a world that’s primed to change, that absolutely needs to change, but which is stuck in a sort of stasis. Personal lives, social issues, hip-hop itself are portrayed in media res, each song’s personas standing on the precipice of choices and bristling with potential energy. It’s a smart, soulful album, one with a few rough edges but which still manages to sidestep clichés and stereotypes.
The album begins with “Second Sight,” featuring raps by Muzic and Fantom, and a beat by K’Nen, wherein Muzic shares his first impressions of the other artists and how those moments led to this album, noting, “took years of preparation, traded tears for dedication/Still they acting like it happened over night though we’ve been patient.” Fantom chimes in with lyrics in both English and Spanish, rapping that they’re a “band of brothers” and “A diamond in the rough in old brown shoes/In the dark at 4 a.m. like there ain’t nothing to prove.”
There’s a lot happening, and a lot of it is textural. “Heaven’s Above,” which features a beat by producer 8-Bza and a hook by Dj Erex, had a sort of ethereal feel at times, as though the song were vanishing at its edges, whereas “Marble,” with a beat by Big ES, seems to deepen with each verse, creating a sense of density in the song. The difference in tone brings out the contrasts in the individual rappers’ styles. As each song unfolds, the voices remain distinct, even as the themes intersect. On “February,” for example, K’Nen laments that, “They never showed us how to mold ourselves with passion it seems/ They show gold but it’s more heavy on the crown of a king.” When his verse comes around, Fantom talks about the need to leave the streets, how he has a son for whom he’s responsible. Muzic takes the hook, rapping, “I don’t want to feel this pain no more/If it rains its’ gon’ pour/ Just make sure that my fam feels the pain no more.” Each artist examines that need to change, but they sketch the moment with what feels like honesty, instead of the urban romanticism and pointless braggadocio that blights so much contemporary hip-hop. From there, the album takes a more overt sociopolitical turn, with “Danger” and “Rich
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CONNELL SANDERS
Musings from a puppy stage mother
Sarah Connell Sanders
Special to Worcester Magazine USA TODAY NETWORK
“When did I realize my dog was exceptional,” you might ask after five minutes in his princely presence. It was almost immediately.
Almost, I say, because the first week we got him I noticed he had a taste for rocks. Small pebbles, mostly. My husband was “concerned” that he was eating them, but I knew better. No sooner had I cleaned out his crate than I found a collection of perfect orbs lined up against the sill, like a sea otter in the wild or Andy Dufresne in “Shawshank Redemption.”
“Our little rock collector,” I called him.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” my husband said.
Next, I became astutely aware of his magnetism. Children, the elderly, and Home Depot employees flocked to him like teachers to a sale at Eileen Fisher. Maybe it was because he was relieving himself smack dab in the middle of the lumber department or maybe it was because he’s some sort of canine wizard.
“So handsome!” they said.
“Clean up in aisle seven!” they said.
Once we realized how gifted and talented he was, we tried to make a concerted effort not to treat him differently than an ordinary dog. Despite his persistent pleas, I refused to make him his own Instagram handle. We are very aware that child stars face plenty of scrutiny, so we have done everything in our power to keep him grounded. We even eat dinner together around the table every night, just like a regular family.
“You know he’s not a human, right?” my husband keeps asking me.
“Of course, honey,” I assure him, mostly because I need to butter him up before I inform him I’ve been letting the dog sleep in our bed when he leaves for work. I think he’ll come around when I show him the dog-sized thousand thread count sheets I bought.
Speaking of butter, Wennington has very sophisticated tastes. In fact, just the other day, he jumped up on the kitchen counter and snatched a whole stick of unsalted Land O Lakes all for himself. Talk about a rich palate.
You’ve never met a dog named Wennington? Me either, but I think it sounds sort of regal. The truth is, he’s named for the mediocre Canadian basketball center, Bill Wennington. My husband is a big sports fan and insists we should tell him the truth about his namesake.
“When he’s older,” I promised.
For now, Wennington thinks he’s a descendant of the British Monarchy.
As for his future career plans, I know what you’re thinking and my answer is, “No, no, no.” He is too smart to be a model. But, you’re right, it would be such a waste if we deprived the world of his good looks. Maybe he can just pursue entertainment on the side because I’m telling you — this dog is an intellectual. I have this feeling that he alone will define the future of humanity.
If you see us around Worcester, please don’t be afraid to come over and give him a pat. Despite his celebrity, he has remained truly humble. If he’s not in a rush, he’ll probably even agree to a selfie. No autographs though. You hear me? It’s hard to set boundaries as both his mother and his manager, but I’m doing my best not to foist fame upon little Wennington. He’s his own man. I mean, dog.
Dog help me.
We are very aware that child stars face plenty of scrutiny, so we have done everything in our power to keep our most
exceptional puppy grounded. PHOTO COURTESY OF SARAH CONNELL SANDERS
Stanton
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Man, Poor Man.” In the former song, Muzic raps, “streets get dangerous when poverty grows/property’s sold to white monopolies with lottery doe/ turned the hood into a loft space off a Hollywood show/ We cant afford it economically so how do we grow.” While this is a universal sentiment, its relevance to contemporary Worcester gives it an immediate, visceral resonance, one which stings more as he raps about police feeding a pipeline from the streets to prison. The song burns at a slow simmer, never really quite exploding. Indeed, the album conveys a sense of tight control throughout, never really blowing off its energy in a giant catharsis, but rather letting it steam unexpectedly at moments, such as on the chorus of “Ruffbase,” sung by Tati Carrion, in a song that has each rapper contemplating their complicated relationships with women, from ex-lovers to their own mothers. On a similar tack, the rappers explore relationships with brothers on “Lonnie,” with Fantom rapping, “Abuela watching from above/I ain’t forgotten what it does to be the keeper of my/brother that my brother never was.”
Nothing’s really easy here, nor should it be. Even music itself has a shadow over it, as K’Nen and Muzic demonstrate with “Mysterious Maiden.” “The industry is run by the puppeteers,” raps Muzic, “t’s a love affair/couple of co-signs and some gold shine your in the upper tier/Less to do with talent when connected like drug career.” The contempt with which the rappers hold the music industry is self-evident, spitting out in their refrain, “We do this (expletive) for hip-hop.”
And therein is where the album’s real charm lies: In its odd balance between eyes-wideopen pragmatism and an almost unbelievably pure idealism. The rappers find strength in their music, in the families and neighborhood, in each other. There’s an ambition driving the album, certainly, but also a sense of priorities. “Although there’s overwhelming pain that I’m holding within,” raps Fantom, in “It’ll All Be Over,” “Before it’s all over, I just hope we all win/Cuz we gotta save this world that’s corrupted with sin.”
The album comes full-circle with “S.O.S,” wherein the rappers reconfirm their bond and shared vision. “I see more than just the friends,” raps Muzic, “Ya’ll my family/abandoned and abused, left stranded with the blues … I’ve sacrificed invested so someday I’m protected/Much more than expected it’s projected on these records.” It could easily feel hollow –such declarations usually are –but here it feels immensely earned. The album has brought the rappers through a journey, and demonstrated their perspectives on the world and each other throughout. When you get to the end, you feel like you know them, and you find their bond easy to believe.
