Could Robert Ruvin Have Saved RiverSplash?
While it certainly sounds ridiculous, I think it's a distinct possibility that Robert Ruvin could have prevented most, if not all of the trouble stemming from the Saturday night fiasco at RiverSplash on Old World Third Street and Water Street.
Jun 3rd, 2008 by Jeramey Jannene
Urban Milwaukee and Milwaukee Development Update Combine Efforts
Over the past month Texo Development, LLC and Fresh Coast Ventures, LLC have been working to bring together Milwaukee Development Update and Urban Milwaukee. The goal is to create Milwaukee's source for urban news and continue Urban Milwaukee's mission of "Championing Urban Life in the Cream City". The news and stories you've come to expect are still here and more...
Jun 2nd, 2008 by Dave Reid
Faster than the speed of time
I don’t know anyone who doesn’t waste at least a little thinking space over how much time speeds up as we age. The phenomenon has spawned numerous mathematical theories and countless arguments about physiology and environment that keep mathematicians and social scientists eternally butting heads in the halls of academia. In real life, the passage of time manifests itself as an increasingly kaleidoscopic sense of memory and the feeling that summer gets shorter every year. After all, when you’re six and you only have linear memories from maybe the last three years, an 11-week summer vacation is effectively 7% of your whole life. At 40, 7% is 145 weeks, or almost three years. That’s quite a difference. For ongoing, in-depth exploration of time acceleration theory, I suggest having a bunch of kids and spreading their ages out over as many years as you can. My sample is rather small for this model: I have five kids aged 10 to 18, with nieces and nephews expanding the data set to the ages of 5 to 21. My research has nothing to do with the kids’ perception of time, but with my own. I can’t keep up with how often these kids are metamorphosing, while my own growth has slowed to a barely evolutionary crawl. Two years ago my oldest daughter Alex was a high school junior looking forward to her 16th birthday, feeling like she had the world by the ass. This morning she probably got up early in the south side apartment she shares with her boyfriend, let the dog out and took the bus to her cashier job. She’s figuring herself out, and for now she just wants to work and live on her own. At this time in 2006, my son Harrison was having a hell of a time understanding that he wasn’t the center of the universe (partly my fault, for sure). Since then, he’s been through a slew of changes that could erode the emotional security of any man, but he seems more grounded than a lot of people I know, kid or adult. Savannah just reached the delightful age of 14, complete with all the age-appropriate trappings, and Jesse is starting to smell like puberty is not far off. But right now it’s Cassidy who amazes me the most. When I met Cass she was freshly 14, and the family member everyone was afraid of provoking. Known for her dark bursts of temper, she kept to herself a lot, painting her nails black and staring moodily into space for hours on end. As I was getting to know her siblings, I found some way to bond with each of them, but Cassidy was a pissed-off Cheshire Cat to me. I even lowered myself to her engagement style once or twice, to my great personal mortification. But in the thick of what I think back on as “the dark times,” Cass started sitting in the kitchen while I cooked, slicing vegetables for sauce and helping out […]
Jun 2nd, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
Weekly Bookmarks – Monday, 02. June 2008
Humboldt Bridge Plans Unveiled Mayor’s Urban Design Awards A day in the life of a Downtown hot dog vendor Alderman Pushes Car Fee To Fuel Projects City’s Carbon Footprint Ranks in Middle Barack Obama | Change We Can Believe In | UrbanPolicy Happy Whitney Gould Day! – Mary Louise Schumacher: Art City Dorm Boom Threatens Landlords NBA’s Stern says Bradley Center has some seasons left JS Online: Will wider I-94 squash rail? Grand Avenue has uphill climb ahead Scent provider moving to valley Express bus idea leaves some behind Another View MSO Chorus singer killed after concert Holes blown in budget Happy Days cast will help dedicate Bronze Fonz on August 19 Bradley Center plan footprint may grow Downtown U.S. Postal facility to move to Oak Creek – The Business Journal of Milwaukee: Associated Bank weighs options for downtown Milwaukee space Update: Oak Creek Lands Huge Mail Center JS Online: Construction trimmed on 2 hotel projects Oak Creek To Get Huge New Mail Center Marketplace: New wine bar, green kitchen for the Public Market Politics: School choice program needs business advocates OnMilwaukee.com Festival Guide: RiverSplash: May 30 – June 1
Jun 1st, 2008 by
Skybombers
What is it about Australian hard rock bands and aviation references? The Screaming Jets in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s? Jet (the non-screaming kind, apparently) in the aughts? Now Melbourne’s Skybombers, a band of fresh-faced recent high school grads, are playing a brand of hard-edged power-pop on their debut full-length, Take Me to Town. The sound is what you might expect from kids their age — tight and well-executed, but with an unsurprising lack of a unique and singular voice, betraying their youthful inexperience. Make no mistake: they’re hitting the right touchstones — a sprinkle of The Who here, a liberal dash of Cheap Trick there — and the performances are solid. Producer Rick Parker (Von Bondies, Dandy Warhols) has done a heck of a job polishing these guys into a well-oiled, no-frills garage-pop steam engine. The opening-chord gut punch of “On + On” is an attention-grabber, and the instant hooks provided in, well, just about every song hold onto that attention with the stubbornness of a clamped-down pit bull (or, to make that simile more Australian, a dingo chomping on the baby it’s stealing). Still, the album rocks less in an “ohmigod they sound like Cheap Trick!” way and more in an “if I want to listen to Cheap Trick, I’ll listen to Cheap Trick” way. Give these kids a few more years, a few more tours and a few more records in their collection, and they could become a blisteringly original act. For now, though, they remain catchy, solid, fun, and downright forgettable. You’ll hum along during the first spin, but five minutes later you’ll be reaching for your copy of In Color.
Jun 1st, 2008 by DJ Hostettler
Green Bay godfathers and hockey-playing chimps
By now, you’ve probably heard how Wisconsin is destined to become the next great film capital of the world, which it isn’t, and how everyone from the Coen brothers to the rotting, re-animated corpse of D.W. Griffith will be falling all over themselves just for the privilege of filming here, which they won’t. The truth is this: the recently passed Film Wisconsin tax incentive bill will have a long-lasting, detrimental effect that will further tarnish our already-sketchy national reputation (and in a state that’s produced both Jeffrey Dahmer and the TMJ4 “Dirty Dining” team, that’s saying a lot). Before I go any further, I should make it perfectly clear that I’m not setting out to trash our many talented local filmmakers or ridicule the vibrant scene they’ve nurtured over the years. No, I’m here to warn against the legions of out-of-state filmmakers this tax break will attract, and the endless number of awful, awful movies they will almost certainly make in – and about – Wisconsin. Sure, a flick or two about Dillinger is fine for now, but let’s see how we feel after the umpteenth “Aren’t those backwater Midwesterners just so darn quirky!” movie comes down the pipe. Trust me; it’ll make the Bronze Fonze seem like a goddamned Frank Gehry concert hall. To illustrate this further, I recently immersed myself in two different types of films in order to find out which was more unwatchable: movies made in and about Wisconsin, or movies about animals playing sports. My findings proved to be embarrassing, infuriating, and in at least two cases, downright adorable. So, if you, dear reader, have any interest in protecting the image of our fair state, read on, and take heed. THE GODFATHER OF GREEN BAY (2005, d. Pete Schwaba) Vs. AIR BUD: SEVENTH INNING FETCH (2002, d. Robert Vince) The Godfather of Green Bay is a horrible, horrible movie. I mean, it’s really horrible. In all my years as a discerning moviegoer, no film has filled me with such seething contempt for humanity, and yes, I’ve seen Garden State. When an appearance by Mark Borchardt is the least offensive thing about a movie, you know you’re in for a nightmare. Put lightly, GOGB is one of the worst movies ever made. Air Bud, on the other hand, was kind of fun. The list of cinematic crimes GOGB commits is unforgivable: one, it’s about stand-up comics; two, its insights into Wisconsin go no deeper than “ya der hey” accents and frequent mentions of how the Bears, like, totally suck. The plot involves writer/director/star Schwaba – whose performance could give a piece of wet cardboard a run for its money – heading to Wisconsin for a Tonight Show audition, and falling in love with a clearly embarrassed Lauren Holly in the process. Oh, and there’s some sort of crime kingpin with a mullet. Who loves the Packers. And hates the Bears. Ha ha. The fact that Wisconsinites were actually entertained by this poorly made, shamelessly pandering barrel-scraper […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Matt Wild
Gone Fishing
Photos by Erin Landry Summer is never so sweet as it is after a crushing winter. So it’s time to pull out the fishing rod and relax to the tune of water lapping at the shore. Here are two easy fish and shrimp dishes for your catch – with a cocktail to wash them down. Fishbone’s Ragin’ Cajun Pasta Executive Chef and Partner Jessie Souza Fishbones Cajun & Creole 1704 Milwaukee Street Delafield, WI 53018 262-646-4696 For the past eight years, Chef Souza, formerly Corporate Chef for Louise’s in California and Milwaukee, has been wowing patrons with his Cajun-Creole fusion at Fishbones in Delafield. Diners enjoy the colorful, festive décor inside or peaceful view overlooking Lake Nagawicka from the bar or outside deck. Harkening to his roots, the chef has recently introduced a Mexican menu. Particularly notable are his crispy flautas with a moist, tasty chicken filling. ¾ lb Andouille sausage ¾ lb grilled chicken 2 small tomatoes, chopped ½ c sliced mushrooms 1 pint heavy whipping cream 12 shrimp, cleaned 6 T olive oil Salt & pepper to taste Cajun seasoning to taste 1 lb spaghetti pasta (cooked) Method: In a medium sauté pan, add the oil and heat for 2 minutes. Add the sausage and cook for 1 minute. Add chicken and cook for 1 minute. Add shrimp and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add tomatoes and mushrooms, cook for 3-4 minutes. Next add the whipping cream and season with salt and pepper. Let the cream reduce for 3-4 minutes, then add Cajun seasoning to your liking. Finally add the pasta and mix well, place in a medium bowl and serve. Serves four. Tropical Salmon Fantasy + Summer Sensation Cocktail Auto Zone store manager Joseph Russell loves to cook daily feasts and fancy dinner parties for friends. He got his chops from his mother and working as a chef on Amtrak’s Southwest Chief line. 4 salmon filets (about 4 ounces each) Extra virgin olive oil 2 T fresh dill, or 1 T dry Salt and pepper to taste Dust salmon filets with salt and pepper and dill. Place in baking dish skin side down. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil and bake at 375 degrees for 10 to 15 minutes or until flakey. Serve with Mango Tango Salsa. Mango Tango Salsa ½ papaya, diced ½ mango, diced ¼ c chopped scallion, green part only ¼ c diced red bell pepper 1 T finely diced fresh jalapeno pepper 1 T chopped fresh cilantro 1 small clove garlic, minced 1 T fresh lime juice ¼ t salt ½ t extra virgin olive oil Combine all ingredients and chill for at least one hour. Serve with baked salmon. Summer Sensation Cocktail 1 shot vodka Prepared raspberry lemonade 1 Lemon wedge 2 Strawberries Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour in vodka and chill in freezer for a few minutes. Take out of freezer and fill glass with raspberry lemonade. Squeeze lemon wedge into drink and garnish with quartered strawberries on a swizzle […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Cate Miller
Overview of the Underground
So you’re all lock, stocked and two smoking laptops. You just hit the SAVE and RENDER button on your favorite editing program and the world is your painfully hip oyster. Next, you’ll burn a few DVDs and show off your kick ass short film, starring your kick ass friends with your kick ass crew. The jokes kill, the sad stuff makes everyone’s eyes well up and noses hurt at the top. Everyone high fives. The Facebook Wall posts come pouring in. But you’re back at your job on Monday … Now what? You’re in Milwaukee. Silver screens in NY, LA, Paris and Tokyo are thousands of miles away! Sell DVDs outta the back of your Hyundai hoping some producer “digs your style man”? Hit “I’m Feeling Lucky” on Google and start sending your film to production companies around the world? At this point a lot of filmmakers bottleneck and never really move with their short film. But we’re in the Midwest, damn it! Our work ethic will power us through, right? Right! What you need is a Midwest-inspired marketing plan: a hustle better than your flow. Now pull VITAL closer and read the secret to getting you and your film off your Riverwest couch and out into to the masses. Get the F into film festivals! Film festivals are the back door into the film world and simply filling out an application ain’t enough. Here are tips and tricks to getting attention for your kick ass Milwaukee film: BUILD YOUR OWN BRAND Your film needs a look and vibe that will make film festival programmers grab your film off the shelf and check it out. Hit up your graphic design buddy or post an ad on craigslist for someone to make a pro cover, poster, DVD label, business card and press kit. One look = pro. One cool look = I will watch your film for more than 45 seconds. Live out that fantasy and create a cool poster and log line for your film. (A log line is your film skillfully summed up in 20 words or less.) Stack the credits at the bottom. Create a complete finished product and it will lead programmers down the path toward making your art work into a big screen reality. You’ll show you have the full, pro package and are ready to rock. ONLINE Heed this call: both Sundance and Slamdance have online short film festivals that screen at the festival and are eligible for awards. ENTER THESE IMMEDIATELY. Sundance’s info is hidden in sundance.org so have fun with that. You can apply to Slamdance at slamdance.com and click ANARCHY ONLINE FILM FESTIVAL. Get to Park City now … git! SHORT FILM IS YOUR BUSINESS CARD Have a script ready for the feature idea that’s gone from bong smoke to short film to festivals and now beyond. Remember, you’re big time. SEND FESTIVAL PROGRAMMERS PIZZA They say it doesn’t help but it totally does. Drinks and sex work too. But we’re baby […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Howie Goldklang
The Long Blondes
If Kate Jackson, vocalist and co-songwriter for the Long Blondes, were really the “glamorous punk” she proclaims herself to be, she’d understand that it takes time before an “out” trend can become “in” again. Still, her Sheffield, England-based five-piece insists on reconstituting what Franz Ferdinand and Bloc Party did better just a few years ago. Angular post-punk guitars and new-wave synth are go-to on their sophomore release, but Jackson’s voice puts a unique stamp on the boys’-club genre. Her whimper is solid, backed by snarls from bassist Reenie Hollis and keyboardist Emma Chaplin on tracks like “Here Comes the Serious Bit,” a vivacious romp about emotionally listless hookups. But when something more exact is required (“Nostalgia,” “Century”), she wavers. The undeterred Jackson continues to challenge her larynx’s limits on drag-racing, trash can stomp “Round the Hairpin,” but in this instance, risk pays off and compliments the song’s reckless overtones. Driving the album’s relationship concept home, songs about slip-ups in fidelity and perpetually being the third wheel – “Guilt” and “The Couples,” respectively – possess peak pop danceability. Though the Blondes pointedly avoid the autobiographical in their songwriting, taking on perspectives from country bumpkin to jet-setter, they must get out of their heads and be less procedural. The Blondes think they’re clever, they think they’re smart, but they’re “just too clever by half,” says the song titled by those lyrics. Fashion lesson number two for Miz Jackson: the coolest girl in the room is always the most effortless.
Jun 1st, 2008 by Amber Herzog
My Morning Jacket
For all intents and (media) purposes, My Morning Jacket is at the crucial fulcrum of their career. Thanks to a catalog consistent in its evolution, they have cred galore (from the critics to the punters) and are revered as one of the best live acts today. So it’s crucial that Evil Urges, their fifth studio full-length, is the one that cements their status as a true American musical treasure and catapults them into the upper strata. Jim James throws down no less than four different voices within the 14 tracks. His falsetto is right on in the saccharine groove of opener “Evil Urges” and the tight, lean funk of “Highly Suspicious.” He handles the country psychedelia of “I’m Amazed” and “Thank You Too” smoothly, and he gets loud and playful on the rockers “Aluminum Park” and “Remnants.” And perhaps most gloriously, Jim evokes Nashville Skyline-era Dylan on the ascending, poignant and goddamn incredible “Librarian.” His performance throughout is simply masterful. The melodies are steeped in soul, with a nice measure of rock and roll. Lest we forget the band: the arrangements and production create the essential atmosphere for Jim to fly. Each instrument, though easily recognizable, slices and bends the air with an array of tones and rhythms that are fresh and that refresh. This recording comes at a perfect time for the rock community. It’s something all of us can put our arms around – and never let go.
Jun 1st, 2008 by Troy Butero
Abigail Washburn
When one thinks of bluegrass and old-time mountain music, the mountain range that typically comes to mind is the Appalachians. Abigail Washburn, though, doesn’t care much to stay planted in Bluegrass’s accepted Olympia. Instead, she creates a musical Pangaea, merging the Appalachians with the Qinling or Wudang Mountains of China. Washburn, an experienced claw-hammer banjo player schooled in the classical style of bluegrass, has effortlessly morphed her musical training with another interest: the language and culture of China. A visit as a freshman in college introduced Washburn to a world full of challenges, stories and uncovered beauty. Fascinated, she devoted her time to learning about Chinese culture and the Mandarin language. A newbie to bluegrass at the time, she decided ‘for kicks’ to translate a Gillian Welch song into Mandarin. A recording fell into the right hands, and the rest fell into place. With bandmates Béla Fleck (who also produced her new album), Ben Sollee and Casey Driessen, Abigail and her Sparrow Quartet combine resonant Americana tones with tales told in Mandarin and English to form a baffling study of what you might call ‘globalization.’ “What I am trying to do is capture what it is like to be caught between two cultures … it’s like being a bridge,” said Washburn in an interview with The Wall Street Journal. Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet is a lively showcase of each musician’s incomparable talent, as well as Washburn’s great voice, as engaging in her natural alto as in her falsetto soprano. Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet is definitively atypical – a promise, perhaps, not only of the vitality of American musical history, but of a new chapter in a dynamic book of stories told in many languages across the globe.
Jun 1st, 2008 by Erin Wolf
Gotcha!
You’ve got to love folks who get “snookered.” Even those who get snookered into buying fake works of art. Who would have thought that the thousands of visitors flooding the Art Institute of Chicago to worship Paul Gauguin’s “The Faun” were actually adoring a fake made by a family of fakes (the Greenhalgh family) holed-up in England? The Dec. 17/07 issue of the New Yorker details the catastrophe surrounding Marion True, a former curator of antiquities at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, who got caught in a web of intrigue when she bought an “Aphrodite” (of dubious origin) to the Getty. The courts have unsnarled the web, and Aphrodite is returning to Italy, but wouldn’t it be fun if True’s acquisition turned out to be not only of dubious origin, but also a fake? An earlier New Yorker feature unearthed a scam behind the sale of “vintage” wines, wines which were blends blended recently. If you have enough money, and don’t mind playing the game, well, it’s real easy being snookered these days. Such was the case at the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art in Kansas City, the brainchild of R.Crosby Kemper, Jr. He launched the museum by purchasing “Canyon Suite” for five million. Alleged to be the works of Georgia O’Keeffe, it turned out they weren’t, but before that was discovered, the 28 watercolors went on tour. The Kansas City Star broke the story, Kemper got his money back, and the fakes were sent packing. The Milwaukee Art Museum’s new Executive Director, Daniel Keegan, was the Kemper’s Executive Director at the time, but according to extremely reliable sources, he had absolutely nothing to do with their purchase or their promotion. Actually, there is a bona-fide game known as “Snookers,” and I should know, as my dad was a Snooker champ at the University of Iowa. Played with a cue and assorted balls, the game was said to have come into being when British officers stationed in India grew bored with gin and each other. Colonialism itself is snookering on a grand scale. When I refer to snookering, I am using the slang definition akin to “inexperienced, greenhorn, dumb, etc.” It somewhat resembles “snipe-hunting,” another Midwestern sport, wherein the snookered is left holding a bag while others go out to beat the bushes for the elusive snipe. Well, you get the picture. In the long ago, I was left holding a bag. But only once. To be on the short-end of the cue, or left holding the bag, isn’t a new phenomenon. It is as old as mankind. Take for instance the Atomic Bomb sent to blow people to smithereens. Sub-primes have snookered us and YouTube snookered us big time in the debate debacle, when a virtual face asked the politicians “What Would Jesus Say?” I feel personally snookered when Oprah endorses Obama, when Huckabee comes off as a regular guy, when John Edwards lays on a honeyed “southern” accent dripping with biscuits and red-eye gravy, when […]
Jun 1st, 2008 by Stella Cretek
