2007-01 Vital Source Mag – January 2007
The high cost of low maintenance
By Jon Anne Willow Dear Readers, I have the good fortune to be in a family situation that most now consider old-fashioned for all of its modern details. My sisters, my best friend and our respective partners have taken up the old standard of extended family and applied it to the structure of our daily lives. My youngest sister and her four year-old son share my house with me. My middle sister and her three children live in the upper of the duplex behind me, with her partner and two dogs in constant attendance. My best friend and her son live in the lower. My boyfriend and his four kids spend weekends with us. My roommate-sister’s boyfriend has custody of his young daughter and takes care of his toddler nephew; they are increasingly often in the mix. Between us, we have five dogs, three cats, four fish and a guinea pig. For those of you keeping score at home, seven adults and twelve children share three bathrooms and three total garage parking spaces, one of which belongs entirely to bicycles and sleds. It’s not for everyone, but it’s perfect for us. With all this closeness, however, comes a sometimes complex and even sensitive communication network. It’s easy to figure out the morning carpool to school; at 8:00 someone makes the first call and by 8:20 the four elementary school kids and at least two moms are in one car and on the way. But it gets complicated in the area of personal sharing and conflict resolution. At work, there are generally structures in place to deal with these things. Business information is given on a “need to know” basis. Conflicts are dealt with through human resources in a best case scenario, or by the more popular means of drama. And no matter how bad a work day is, at the end of it you go away. But what happens to grownups when they have three or four best friends and live with them all? Do you have to share equally with everyone all the time? How do you confront the desire to not be watched, to not feel judged, in an environment where the people you love best are up in your business every waking moment? The late 20th century created the mobile, global society and successfully fractured the practical application of family as people’s social and emotional center. Today, the majority of “family life” outside our own walls is lived through email, phone calls and stressful, architected trips “home” for cornerstone events. Friends, jobs and even homes come and go, becoming memories that never had the chance to settle into our bones before they’re gone. Our parents live in Texas; our best friend is in New York. Our corporate headquarters is in Idaho. We’re spread out in ways perhaps not even suited to human nature. It’s okay to leave a job, spouse, a friend and even family members when we’re uncomfortable and don’t know how to deal with the […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
He says…
By Terisa Folaron On January 27, 1945, Soviet troops liberated Auschwitz, the largest and most notorious of the Nazi concentration and extermination camps. On the same date in 2007, the United Nations will commemorate the first International Holocaust Remembrance Day, though the unanimous approval of the General Assembly’s resolution didn’t come without concerns regarding the remembrance of other genocides. The reservations of some Assembly members were most aptly summarized by Maged A. Abdelaziz, the Egyptian ambassador, who stated “No one has a monopoly on suffering.” It is a point well-made. Ongoing acts of genocide are still being reported in Darfur, Sudan, and the recent Review of the Holocaust Global Vision Conference in Iran set out specifically to debunk the substantive fact of the Nazi genocide during World War II. And with violent and hate crimes on the rise in Milwaukee and recent reports chronicling Milwaukee’s poor race relations, January seems the perfect month to reflect on the impact of past hate and violence as a cautionary tale for today. Albert Beder wore a yellow star on his chest. He survived the Holocaust, and his story reminds us of the strength of the human spirit. Albert was born in Kovno, Lithuania (now Kaunas) on June 13, 1928. Albert lived through death marches, diphtheria, overcrowded ghettos and forced labor camps. He was just 13 years old when he was placed into his first ghetto internment camp. He says, I had a family. I had two older brothers, two older sisters, one younger sister. I had a mother and a father. Albert was in a summer youth camp near the occupied East Prussia/Lithuanian border when his family, still in Kovno, attempted to flee from the advancing Nazis. “They managed to get maybe 30 kilometers before the Germans caught up with them. But they lost my little sister Reva on the road. She was 6 years old. There were many families running and trying to escape. Planes were shooting at them.” The Germans collected Albert, along with the other Jewish youth in the camp, and, like his family, he was returned to his Kovno family home, where Jewish citizens were preparing for their forced move into the Kovno Ghetto. “In Kovno, we received orders that all Jews had to move and had to live in that area that was fenced in with barbed wire. It was August, 1941. The consequence for not following these orders was the death penalty. You had to wear the star. If you did not, that was also the death penalty. Back then everything was the death penalty. They let us take everything into the ghetto. We didn’t know in the end it wouldn’t matter. Twice, as we were preparing to move, soldiers came looking for my father to send us to Ninth Fort. We knew there were lots of killings there. They came to the door and asked for my father. My mother would say, ‘He is sick and cannot come to the door.’ She offered them silk stockings […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Why the caged bird sings
If you had asked me a couple of years ago, I would have thought that “Extraordinary Rendition” was something that Barbra Streisand did at her shows; but the reality is decidedly more grim than a chorus line performance of Yentl. Extraordinary Rendition is, in fact, the name for our governments’ extrajudicial practice of kidnapping, detaining and utilizing third-party nations to torture individuals with “suspected terrorist links,” a practice that is destroying our nation’s moral credibility and eroding the foundations of our Constitution.
Jan 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Clinic
For those with a taste for the peculiar in music, Clinic has always been a safe bet. But since their startling introduction with 2000’s Internal Wrangler, Clinic prefer to play as they please, enjoying their own melodica-infused weirdness and keeping things at their initial level with a menacing blend of garage, punk, hip-hop and world music. After the disappointing slide backwards of Winchester Cathedral (2002), Clinic fans may almost dread the arrival of the newest addition to the land of curious and curiouser. Although Visitations freefalls into the land of the weird, it is a good drop right into the environs of a mental hospital: vocalist Ade Blackburn singing within the confines of a straightjacket, his vocal chords strapped in for the ride, straining at the words with his stifled snarl. Drummer Carl Turney faces a dark corner with his kick-drum pounding out a steady beat, much like a forgotten and bored toddler pounds the bars of his crib. Visitations is thick with references to farming and harvesting – not in a joyful, abundant sense – but calling to mind images of the grim reaper swinging through town. “Harvest (Within You)” advises citizens to “batten down and button up.” In “Children of Kellogg,” the intensity of a one-two fever beat segues into a dreamy clarinet waltz, with the sound of a saw working away at lord knows what in the background. The album displays a strained ferocity, drifting in and out of its bi-polarity to slow down with “Visitations” and “Paradise,” only to snap its jaws with “Family” and “Tusk,” sweating out the meds and nightmares. Although undeniably unsettling in sound, Visitations instigates a need to hit the dance floor, recalling Clinic’s dance and hip-hop foundations and rolling fluidly from one song to the next, incorporating the brashness of punk and adding Eastern elements such as finger cymbals. It’s an album full of hidden moments, built into their strange supports that will satisfy the Clinic fan who likes them to be nothing short of comfortably bizarre. VS
Jan 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Neil Young & Crazy Horse
By Blaine Schultz It’s all there in black and white – Neil Young’s black Gibson Les Paul and Danny Whitten’s white Gretsch ( well maybe he played the orange one that night). This album is about guitars. While bootlegs of both early and late Fillmore shows have circulated for years, it is great that Neil decided to give this recording a legitimate release. After Young hijacked three members of the Rockets and renamed them Crazy Horse they quickly went into a studio and cut the album Everybody Knows This is Nowhere. That record’s visceral aesthetic was not going to get it confused with any of the Woodstock hippy hangover music clogging radio’s arteries back in 1969. Live at the Fillmore East is the first volume of Young’s long-awaited archive series. While the Fillmore album does not include Nowhere’s “Cinnamon Girl” (the closest tune to a solo hit Young would have until “Heart of Gold” broke the bank in 72), it does add “Winterlong” and “Wondering.” The former would surface on the collection Decade and the latter would not see the light of day until Young’s rockabilly vacation with the Shocking Pinks in 1983 – regardless of how he introduces the tune here. Fillmore also adds Jack Nitzsche’s watery Wurlitzer electric piano to the lineup. At its core Crazy Horse was (and still is) a rhythm section, creating a huge warm hypnotizing pocket for Young’s guitar playing. Meanwhile, back at the Fillmore, the doomed guitarist Danny Whitten (equal parts Georgia hillbilly and California surfer) spurred Young’s playing to dogfight levels that rock & roll would not hear again until a group called Television inhabited the same Fillmore neighborhoods and sonic airspace a decade and a half later. In fact, if you listen close, Whitten’s singing and playing is nipping at Neil’s heels like a young pup – alternate bootleg mixes of officially released songs seem to bear this out. Seems if Whitten hadn’t checked out early because of an overdose he could have been a real contender. He would later be an inspiration for Young’s arguably greatest album Tonight’s The Night. Ironically on Fillmore Whitten sings the rave-up “C’mon Baby Let’s Go Downtown,” a tune about copping and paranoia. But for the real crackerjacks take a listen to the pair’s tremulous singing on the chorus of “Winterlong.” Now tell me, what could cause this terror that makes them sound like Robert Johnson turning the tables and finally chasing the hellhound on his trail? Peace and love with Nixon and Manson waiting down the hall. Which brings us to the twin towers of dread and shred, “Down By the River” and “Cowgirl in the Sand,” two rock & roll epics that sit real nice on the same shelf with Dylan getting rearranged by Hendrix. Could it have been something in the air – Miles Davis was also on the bill at the Fillmore – because Neil Young and Crazy Horse stretch rock & roll’s time/space equation into something that Davis and John […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Dollars, Worries & Lives
By Amy Elliott + Photos by Richard Galling The Smith and Wesson Model 10 double-action revolver has been in continuous production for more than 100 years, and has been the weapon of choice for police departments everywhere for almost as long. An elegant piece with black grips and a carbon-steel barrel, it evokes suits, cocktails and spies. List price is $632; used models start at $350. The Glock .22 is a little less sexy than the revolver, but is the weapon of choice for graduates of the FBI training academy, U.S. Marshals and agents of the DEA. This heavy semi-automatic pistol, made from dense polymer and steel, will put you back at least $480. Nothing communicates quite as clearly as a well-placed Kalashnikov. Otherwise known as the AK-47, it is the world’s most widely used assault rifle, comprises a large chunk of the illicit small arms trade and is relatively cheap to acquire, starting in the $300 range for older models. If you’re the DIY type, you could consider purchasing a conversion kit to turn your semi-automatic pistol into a submachine gun. It wouldn’t run you more than $250. Of course, knock-off brands of any of these models are substantially cheaper, starting well under $200. And a 50-count box of .38 specials could cost you less than a quarter per bullet. Less than a gumball. Almost every gun on the illegal market starts out in the legal market. Somehow, through dealer negligence, criminal cunning or outright theft, these guns enter an ambiguous realm. They may stay in gray space forever, changing hands, stashed under beds. Then again, they may resurface. And they may do some damage. Ecology Some people call Riverwest the West Bank of Milwaukee. At least one man calls it the Gaza Strip – a narrow buffer zone between the city’s racial and economic zones. Don Krause has lived in the neighborhood for 17 years. He owns Art Bar on East Burleigh, a sunny, spacious corner where local artists and tipplers come to relax in the glow of collective creative energy. Drinks are cheap and the art on the walls is priced to move. In the summer of 2005, Krause was shot in the stomach by a teenager who was trying to rob a customer. For months, Krause was the poster child of gun violence in the neighborhood, and his colorful watering hole became the rallying banner of concerned citizens and community activists. “You couldn’t go anywhere without hearing ‘Art Bar’ and ‘shooting’ in the same sentence,” he says. But not all publicity is good publicity. The perception that an area is dangerous may determine its viability. A 2000 study by the National Institute of Justice found that fear of crime had a direct effect on a neighborhood’s social ecology – most commonly in the form of “spatial avoidance.” It makes sense – why spend time in a bad part of town? But it also makes it harder for businesses, and the communities they serve, to thrive. Krause’s […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Amy Elliott
Berzerk!
By Russ Bickerstaff The Bucks won a close one against the Timberwolves at the Bradley Center on the evening of December 16. Across the street that night the late 19th century decay of the Tuner Hall Ballroom looked like something out of Escape From New York. Lights that were cast into a vast darkness mixed with light coming in from downtown to bathe the mostly empty 7,000 square feet in a pleasantly eerie visual drama. The restoration of the Ballroom is far from complete, giving the overall impression of a once great performance space that is slowly waking up from a long hibernation. Alamo Basement and Insurgent Theatre were set to perform a series of alarmingly short bits – an evening they’d titled: Gorilla Theater: Berzerk! Before the show began, Alamo Basement’s Mike Q. Hanlon took audience-suggested sentences and playwrights were then given the task of incorporating them into theatrical bits they were given 10 minutes to write. The bits were set to be performed at the end of the show. Someone in the audience suggested something about low-fat lard that fell on deaf ears. Local stand-up comic Rich Greenfield suggested, “The dog went home,” which was perfect. Anyone who has ever attended an improv comedy show knows that the vague and ambiguous suggestions tend to illicit the best responses. In the less than two hours that followed, roughly 20 – 22 short plays quickly cascaded through the shadows. Prior to the evening, local writers were given lines from Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland and asked to form whole bits of staged comedy and drama from them in ten minutes or less. As evidenced by the show that night, the writers had met with mixed success. Voices and footsteps echoed around the darkness announcing the title and author of each piece. The lights raised and a piece was performed by actors dressed mostly in nondescript black garb. The lights fell and there was applause mingling with the sound of actors scurrying about in preparation for the next bit. With the audience flanking the actors on two sides with folding chairs in the big empty of Turner Hall Ballroom, voices echoed a bit much at times and it was a bit difficult to hear all the dialogue, but Alamo Basement and Insurgent Theatre put on an unsettlingly enjoyable evening with Gorilla Theater. The bits ranged in style quite a bit, but the overall feel was one of surrealist comedy. Stand outs included Hanlon’s eerie Anticipation and Wes Tank’s vividly surreal The Un-Rainbow Kind. John Manno’s Iphegenia’s Doggie was the story of a woman losing her pet dog as told in the fashion and passion of a Greek tragedy complete with chorus. Shannon Smith’s I Never Heard of Uglification featured perhaps the most visionary visualization for the space. A narrator from the second floor balcony vividly spoke words detailing actions performed in silence on the stage below. The Ballroom’s balcony was used in a number of pieces, most prominently in Alisa Rosenthal Haywire […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
