2007-02 Vital Source Mag – February 2007

Pan’s Labyrinth

Pan’s Labyrinth

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Hat Trick – Third time’s a charm for Al and Susie Brkich

Hat Trick – Third time’s a charm for Al and Susie Brkich

By Catherine McGarry Miller + Photos by Kevin C. Groen Cranky Al’s Bakery, Coffee & Pizza 6901 W. North Avenue 414-258-5282 Hey, Mikey, I got your pizza ready,” Cranky Al Brkich hails a customer. “I only dropped it twice!” Mikey shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “That’s better ‘n last time.” There’s a round of giggles from patrons steaming up the windows at Cranky Al’s this winter night with animated conversations over pizzas and garlic bread. I’m not one to go around outing people, but the truth is Cranky Al is a phony. He’s about as cranky as Rachel Ray accepting applause for yet another miracle recipe. A small warning sign on the door hints at Al’s true nature. It reads, “All unattended children will be given two shots of espresso and a free puppy.” Al is loath to admit it, but “cranky” actually references the hand-cranked donuts he turns out every morning for lines of neighborhood enthusiasts. For owners Susie and Al Brkich, this bakery and pizzeria is a hat trick. They’ve had two other successful eateries. The first was Crabby Al’s, a seafood shack that lit up the dark skies of the Menomonee Valley and then tumbled into a dissolved partnership. Second was Mrs. Java and Company, just four doors down from the new Cranky Al’s, which died last year when the building was sold to another restaurateur who wanted the space for a bistro. The news was sudden and devastating to the couple, who had hoped to buy the building themselves. “We didn’t know if our customers would come back,” Susie says with her chin crumbling and eyes moist with deep appreciation for the support of the community. It took the Brkichs the better part of a year – and every penny of their resources – to relocate, gut the property and install a kitchen in two storefronts that had formerly housed a used auto parts and a vacuum cleaner store. It was a stressful time for the Brkichs, not knowing if their new enterprise would fly. But just a few months into it, this place has all the signs of being yet another success for the hard-working restaurateurs. High windows fill the spacious room with light, the dark woodwork, molded ceilings and pews from Pius X Church – which serve as bench seating – all lend an air of comfortable charm, as do the smells of fresh-brewed coffee and handmade donuts and pastries. This, as everything in their lives, is a joint venture. After two decades of marriage, Al and Susie are still thick as thieves. Al insisted that Susie be there for our interview and every time Al got up during our chat to attend to the business, Susie gushed about him. For their opening in December, she bought him his first chef’s coat. “Same old Cranky with a new coat on,” he boasts. “That’s right, kid, I’m fancy now.” Al, who grew up near State Fair Park and attended Solomon Juneau High School, met Chicago […]

Volver

Volver

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The Early Years

The Early Years

Already in play to sell Nike shoes, the single “All Ones & Zeros” gets The Early Years’ debut out of the blocks at lightning speed; but it’s false advertising for the record as a whole. Although the intro song is a propelling dash, what follows lacks similar kinetic force. Intentionally. This three-piece, comprised of a drummer and pedal-happy guitar duo, adamantly refuse to chase after the skinny-tie, post-punk revivalist trend. Instead of worshipping Gang of Four, the self-proclaimed “experimental” band cite Neu!, Television and Mogwai as influences. If experimental means ambience, feedback and droning, and the preceding bands were reputably boring and uninventive, then these guys are spot on. The Early Years sound more confident when they aren’t trying so hard. The majority of songs, including the utterly beige “Brown Hearts,” are like a game of hot/cold (getting warmer…even warmer… ). The musicians find direction as the tracks count down, leaving questions as to how much improvisation they employed while recording. Likewise, the last two and a half minutes of “High Times And Low Lives” show potential and should have been the project’s starting line. Here, parts move – the darling avant-garde electronics live rightfully among the twangy guitar and incisive percussion. Regrettably, the disc’s closers, though pretty, deflate any remaining hope of resurrecting the buzz. The Early Years live up to their name; they play a diluted imitation of art rock’s early years, contributing little more than better technology. They’re on the heels of something good, but until their sophomore release, why buy a knock-off when you can just as easily listen to the real thing? VS

The Joke’s Over

The Joke’s Over

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The Shins

The Shins

The advent of the Shins’ latest sees them with not an entirely clean bill of health. They’ve paled from the short-term convalescence that the indie film and television world has bled them into. Yet they’ve somehow grown a muscular sonic extroversion from this bloodletting, while still managing to leave their lyrical core of persistent pathos intact. James Mercer’s sweet tenor will never quite echo the nerviness of The Fall’s Mark E. Smith, but it’s more of a “hell yeah” than an “oh, hell.” “Sleeping Lessons” is a fantastic kickoff, much in the way “Kissing the Lipless” was for Chutes too Narrow. Creeping in quietly, it assaults the unsuspecting listener’s ears with the volume cranked up to catch the Lewis Carroll references, blasting a train-chugging bass and a quick-click drumbeat with upswept, Beach Boy vocals. “Phantom Limb” catches the band at their wistful best, creating an atmosphere of ‘60s jangle-pop with an ‘80s bass line often associated with teen films, and a plotline to match. To hear Mercer sing the oh-wah-oh chorus is swoonable. The album is sonically variant starting with “Phantom Limb;” that track, “Sea Legs” and “Turn On Me” are all illuminating. The best surprise is “Sea Legs.” Containing a prominent Beck-ish bass line, flute and lounge piano chords, it features a smokier-voiced Mercer. “Red Rabbits” is another variation, but simple innovation and keyboardist Marty Crandall’s keyboard noodling is not enough to create a decent song. Wincing amps the listener up first with its familiarity, then further with a swing into the new, but fails to push through at the end. It’s promising, but The Shins are apparently still in that awkward stage; they still have plenty of room to grow. VS

Your last/next month

Your last/next month

By Matt Wild Your last month has been rife with unexpected changes, moments of self-loathing and at least one severe car accident. The New Year – still so new! – has left you reeling. It would be easy, therefore, for us to look back and catalog your last month, to dredge up and analyze its highs and its lows. But let’s be honest; the past is for suckers. Instead, let’s pretend your last month is your next month; let’s rewind the Cassingle? of your life all the way back to the first yawning minutes of 2007. There you are – bleary-eyed, drunk and hopeful – kissing the strange/familiar boy/girl next to you, blissfully unaware of what will happen over the course of the next 31 days. This, in fact, is what will happen: You will make a trek back to your hometown to spend time with your family. You will go bowling, smoke some shitty cigarettes and drink an alarming amount of alcohol. One night – while rocking out to William Shatner’s version of “Common People” – you also manage to rear-end another driver, nearly totaling your girlfriend’s car. In the ensuing 48 hours, you will learn a series of valuable lessons: 1). Never give a fake name, number and address to the 17-year-old girl you just hit. 2). Never assume, in a town of barely 5,000 people, that the cops won’t somehow track you down and impound your car at 5 in the morning. 3). Never drive a vehicle off a tow lot – even if it’s your own – without politely asking first. By the end of the weekend you will become small town gossip fodder and rack up nearly $3,000 in damages and fines. Nevertheless, you’re thankful no one was hurt and that your arresting officer graduated high school with your younger brother. Back in Milwaukee, you will decide to keep your nose clean and your head down, your chin turned away in anticipation of the next blow. You will attend any number of dreadful events: hipster dance parties, adult spelling bees, trivia nights. You will make a vow to forever avoid any event prefaced by the word “adult” (kickball, dodge ball, lawn darts). You will start taking more cab rides and keep feeling bad about your girlfriend’s car. Your long-time East Side neighborhood continues down the fast track to becoming a condo-littered strip mall, leaving you bitter and disenchanted. You fall out of love with your city and consider hopping on the “We’re moving to Portland!” bandwagon popularized by that one Dead Milkmen song. You will go out and see some rock shows (the excellent Candliers prove to be a revelation), smoke some shitty cigarettes and drink an alarming amount of alcohol. In spite of all this (or perhaps because of this), you feel bad for yourself a great deal, and often contemplate running yourself through with a 10-inch railroad spike. A concerned friend will eventually calm you down and tell you that trying to off […]

Liberty and injustice for all

Liberty and injustice for all

By Cole J. White If there is ever to be equality in this country, surely it must begin in our courts of law. If we are to believe all men are created equal, then shouldn’t they be judged equally as well? –Thurgood Marshall It has been 43 years since the passage of the Civil Rights Amendment, and still we have crushing poverty, humiliating discrimination, demoralizing racism and a legal system that sees color as an indictable offense. Every night on the news, we hear about another “brown” person committing another crime, another arrest, another conviction, another… another… another. Why? Because the civil rights movement of the 1960s didn’t create a utopian melting pot, where justice is even-handed and equality is equal. Because, in America, if you’re black you have a greater than 1 in 4 chance of going to prison; you have a higher likelihood of being the victim of violence (sometimes, believe it or not, at the hands of the police) and nearly a 40 percent probability that you will live your entire life in poverty. The sheer lack of options makes an “average American life” little more than a fairytale for many “urban” kids. For them, slangin’ and gangin’ have become a means of survival, of pride, of identity. This puts many of these at-risk children on a disastrous collision course with a criminal justice system that has been co-opted by legislative hypocrisy and duplicative agenda-setting. Retired judge Phillip Seymour said, “Playing politics with the law is a dangerous, dangerous thing to do. And every time I hear a politician talk about getting tough on crime, I know someone’s getting screwed.” The class-A rodgering begins with the draconian Mandatory Minimum Sentencing (MMS) guidelines. Trickle-down sentencing Ostensibly, mandatory minimum sentences were designed to target “kingpins” and high-level dealers – a trickle-down drug policy. But these laws almost never nab kingpins. More times than not, addicts and – worse still – innocent people are the ones who wind up in prison. And those people are mostly black. Why? Because mandatory minimums disproportionately target minorities, a claim substantiated by the FBI, which reports that 60 percent of those prosecuted (and convicted) for drug crimes are black; while most drug users – some 74 percent – are white. Intentional or not, these laws are racist. The racial divide is highlighted by the crack and powder cocaine guidelines. A majority of crack users are black. A majority of powder cocaine users are white. Five grams of crack will get you five years. It takes 100 times as much – 500 grams of powder cocaine – for a five-year sentence, effectively creating a generation of young black men who will spend the rest of their lives on the wrong side of the law. Despite the obvious problems with sentencing laws and the objections of the legal and civil rights communities, some members of Congress, like Rep. James Sensenbrenner of Wisconsin, have fought to make mandatory minimums even more stringent – all to appear “tough […]

Frozen

Frozen

By Jill Gilmer A series of asymmetrical screens line the back wall of the set of Frozen. During the play, the screens project rays of blue and gray light, appropriate hues for this dark and disturbing story. But as the cast takes its bow, the screens change to a collection of light and dark still photos surrounding the single image that is in focus: a vibrant amber sunrise. Audience members who quickly exit the theatre may miss this visual synopsis of the play’s underlying theme; forgiveness causes dark experiences to fade into the light and offers the promise of hope. The light display also mirrored the journey of characters Nancy and Ralph. Set in modern day England, Frozen follows the lives of Nancy, Ralph and Agnetha over 25 years. Nancy is an angry and grief-stricken mother whose 10-year-old daughter was sexually abused and killed. Ralph is the flippant inmate convicted of the girl’s murder, and Agnetha is a quirky psychiatrist who chose Ralph as the subject of her research study. In one scene, the audience is cast in the role of students at Agnetha’s lecture on “crimes of evil vs. crimes of illness.” We are asked to consider the evidence supporting the theory that some offenders are biologically incapable of remorse, and are, thus, unforgivable. Ralph appears to be a prime illustration of this theory. Many years after her daughter’s death, Nancy visits Ralph in prison and offers her unsolicited forgiveness. The visit simultaneously leads to a life-changing emotional catharsis for Nancy while setting off a destructive wave of guilt in Ralph. In her interview with Footlights magazine, director Kate Buckley forewarns the audience, “This is not light entertainment.” Frozen explores the cheerful topics of pedophilia, suicide and psychiatric theories about the brains of criminals. It presents images that are shocking and painful. Yet, the brilliance of this play is Buckley’s ability to leave the audience with an unmistakable feeling of hope. The powerful images and topics presented in Frozen appeal more to the intellect than the heart. The characters are introduced through a string of monologs. But it is only when the live action begins that the audience begins to feel a connection with them. Laura Gordon brings a stirring complexity to Agnetha. However, the rest of the cast fails to engage the audience on an emotional level. These “frozen characters” may have been consciously built into Bryony Lavery’s outstanding script. The Broadway production was nominated for four Tony awards in 2004 and the script was a finalist for a Pulitzer Prize. Despite this shortcoming, the play soars in its ability to provoke thought on the origins of morality, the prudence of capital punishment and the limits of forgiveness. The combination of intelligent writing and the subtle spiritual message of forgiveness explain why this is a widely-produced play. Its compelling theme left me speculating whether the tragic turn in Ralph’s life would have been avoided if he had been able to forgive himself. VS Frozen runs through February 18 […]

Cortney Tidwell

Cortney Tidwell

By Nikki Butgereit Cortney Tidwell’s Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up is an imaginative blend of subtle vocals and electronic sounds that is altogether unexpected from an artist touted for her relationship to the Nashville music scene. Echo effects enhance the delicate, breathy quality of Tidwell’s voice. On the album’s title track, she sounds like vintage Björk, with her combination of quiet enunciation and powerful yodels. Each song is layered with multiple instruments and vocal tracks, which lends an experimental feel to the record. Most songs meander along without verse or chorus, creating an emotional experience rather than something to which you can sing along. “Illegal” is a creative cacophony, with buzzing, whirring and crowd noise alongside keyboard beats and chords. Upbeat synthesizers and stronger vocals on “Missing Link” add another facet to the otherwise down-tempo album. This song is much more frenetic than the others and shows off Tidwell’s underlying versatility. Cortney Tidwell’s music is not pushy or jarring – each track sort of dissolves into the next. Headphones really highlight the intricate craftsmanship – in the car or on a home stereo, the music tends to create a mellow hum, and you can almost forget it’s on, save for the relaxing mood it elicits and the occasional abrupt upswing in volume and tempo. Tidwell has created an enjoyably mellow listening experience built on layers of experimental sound. Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up manages to be low-key and exciting all at once. VS

Yeah, we’re five

Yeah, we’re five

By Jon Anne Willow + Mehrdad J. Dalamie From Mehrdad: February 2007 marks the beginning of the sixth year of VITAL Source. As I look back, I cannot help but wonder if we would have survived doing it any differently. By that I mean that all the ambition in the world would not have meant anything without all the sacrifices we made; running two businesses, virtually hundreds of hours a week; sleep deprivation, zero financial resources and so much uncharted territory could and would push any normal person out of the rat race in which we found ourselves. I’m not sure what other forces were behind us but a few are certain. The love and desire to be an alternate voice within Milwaukee’s established media brought us here in the first place. And more importantly, the desire by the public, you, to hear what we had to say has kept us going. I started VITAL, but the second year brought a fresh breath and perspective, an intelligence that transcended all that previous, and like rocket fuel propelled us forward: Jon Anne Willow, my partner in my madness, to whom everything is indebted. We are celebrating our fifth anniversary on February 24th and we’d like you to join us. It would not be possible without your support. Thank you, Mehrdad J Dalamie Co-Publisher Dear Readers, Mehrdad is too nice. He’s been the water all along, holding up the boat so it doesn’t sink. All the wind in the world doesn’t matter if you’re dry-docked, and VITAL would be if not for him. He does all manner of unglamorous, sometimes seemingly unrelated work at all hours of the day and night to make sure our little ship of enterprise sails; he is the unsung force behind our continued existence. So next time you run into him behind the bar at Bremen Café, shoveling the sidewalk or delivering copies of the magazine, see him as a man who understands what it means to do whatever it takes to make dreams come true. He is that man, and I am grateful to know him. And as he said, it’s our birthday this month. How cool is that? This year has marked the launch of our new website (complete with blogs and all the modern bells and whistles), an increase in circulation and distribution, growth in advertising sales and most importantly, a spike in something intangible – access and awareness within the community. You’re telling us about stories that need to be told, inviting us to your events, coming to ours, writing us letters, visiting our website, being our myspace “friends” and generally showing us that you like VITAL (really, really). And that’s incredibly cool. So this issue is full of presents for you in the form of puzzles and games. Dwellephant’s maze opens the section and Brian Jacobson did one called Silent Sentinels which is all photos of local statues where you guess where they are and what they represent. Some of them are […]

Smokin’ Aces

Smokin’ Aces

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