2007-07 Vital Source Mag – July 2007
All the king’s horses
When local business leader and big-time philanthropist Sheldon Lubar received the Headliner Award from the Milwaukee Press Club this past spring, he made some scathing observations about the challenges facing Milwaukee to a room full of 300 of the region’s leading journalists. It’s a topic on which he is well-qualified to speak. The founder of Lubar Investments and namesake of UWM’s Sheldon B. Lubar School of Business, Lubar has spent much of the last year serving as co-chair of two committees charged with studying Milwaukee County finances, one set up by Governor Doyle and the other a standing committee of the Greater Milwaukee Committee, both of which have published their reports in the last several months to disappointingly little fanfare in the press. Lubar has spent much of the last year serving as co-chair of two committees charged with studying Milwaukee County finances, one set up by Governor Doyle and the other a standing committee of the Greater Milwaukee Committee, both of which have published their reports in the last several months to disappointingly little fanfare in the press. “I would expect that you are all familiar with what we found: generous under-funded pensions, generous and under-funded health care, outdated management systems, elected officials that barely communicate with one another, duplication of services and, perhaps most serious, multiple non-elected boards and commissions with taxing authority,” he said in his acceptance speech. Lubar also noted that many public schools are not adequately educating our young people and that, despite the shift from agriculture and manufacturing to “knowledge industries,” Wisconsin has been scaling back its support for the University of Wisconsin. In addition, Lubar called attention to the fact that, despite having relatively high taxes, our city, county and state are unable to balance their budgets, asserting that our government has “some very big time systemic problems that need to be addressed. “Sadly, I can tell you that the well-intentioned leaders I worked with [on the reports] are as frustrated as you and I, but feel powerless to change the system,” said Lubar bluntly. Not a pretty picture, to be sure, and one that we’ve been hearing about fairly regularly recently. But Lubar’s candid description of the failure of our leaders to respond to these challenges was refreshing and his proposed solution was so radical in nature that it snapped me to attention. Lubar believes nothing short of a dramatic restructuring of the way our public institutions are organized and operate is necessary to address what he called, during a telephone interview, the region’s “dysfunctional governance.” According to both reports (and some would say the naked eye), the duplication of services and lack of accountability between Milwaukee County and City and 17 other municipalities, as well as MPS, MMSC, MATC, the Wisconsin Center District and other semi-autonomous, quasi-governmental entities leads to a daunting amount of waste and inefficiency. The final report of the Greater Milwaukee Committee’s Task Force on Milwaukee County, issued last fall, point to a number of examples: To find […]
Jul 1st, 2007 by Ted Bobrow
Huey Crowley
Photo by Erin Landry Looking at the studio of Huey Crowley, one can’t help but wonder about the visual landscapes he visits in his mind. “Yeah, it’s a little messy,” he says with humility. There’s a huge canvas lying against the wall; paints, oils, acrylics, books and finished art pieces are scattered on the floor. He hands me a pile of little square cardboard art pieces that he’s been selling on the streets for $20 a pop to buy groceries. For being 20 years old, Huey is no amateur in the art scene. In just two years he’s done illustrations for Stuck magazine and done deck art for Toy Machine Skateboards. He is also a skater and currently a student at MIAD. To see more of Huey’s work, visit hueycrowleypaintings.deviantart.com and myspace.com/hueythebutt. How would you describe your art? Lately I’ve been working on a lot of pieces that are influenced by abstract expressionism, but I don’t want to consider myself just an abstract expressionist. I believe that abstract expressionism is one of the purest ways to capture a feeling as far as painting goes. With these paintings, I am trying to develop a language through my mark-making, to recreate a certain point in my life. When it comes to your paintings, what is your main source of inspiration? I keep reverting back to my childhood. But as far as things that inspire me go, sometimes just walking down the street looking at buildings in Milwaukee, there are different variations of light which I find quite beautiful. I’m also inspired by the objects themselves – the bricks, the old paint, the worn-off advertisements, the painted-over graffiti. The other day I saw some windows in a building that were completely covered with dust. There were about 50 windows where dust had been cleaned off from the inside, each one by a different hand and in a unique way. I get a lot out of stuff like that. I am also inspired by Willem De Kooning, among many other abstract expressionist artists, and the graffiti artist Jean Michel Basquiat. My dad inspires me as well. How would you describe your process of creating? Painting feels sort of like a game of chess. Sometimes I will just sit for an hour or so and look at the painting, trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t. Paint has a life of its own. I’m just trying to help it along to a finished point. Before I start, I’m never really sure what my painting is going to look like. I don’t sketch it out beforehand. When I am satisfied with the result, I will know, but I don’t believe that there can ever be a set end-point to a painting, or a feeling for that matter. What do you feel is your goal or message as an artist? If I wanted to, I could portray something literally, a story or a feeling. I could draw it, I could film it, I could write […]
Jul 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Alienation’s for the rich
As we collectively dive headlong into the month of July, it’s useful to reflect on the many striking similarities between Milwaukee summers and director Richard Donner’s 1987 cop-buddy masterpiece Lethal Weapon. For starters, they’re both somewhat overrated and feature a lot of shit blowing up. Digging a bit deeper (and putting aside the fact that Lethal Weapon was actually nominated for an Oscar), we also discover that they’re both hopelessly stuck in the ‘80s, feature a couple of lousy sex scenes and are both over in about 90 minutes. True, Lethal Weapon contains a few more booby-trapped toilets than a typical Milwaukee summer (or was that Lethal Weapon 2?), but you get the picture. The zany cinematic misadventures of Murtaugh and Riggs also have a personal relevance for me, in that I’m currently about as popular and well regarded as a post-Passion of the Christ, post-Sugar Tits Mel Gibson. Through actions both careless and downright idiotic, I’ve recently fulfilled a long-standing summer tradition of alienating myself from friends, colleagues and the occasional skittish border collie alike. (While Lethal Weapon may be a hard R, this column remains a somewhat family-friendly PG-13; the actions in question, therefore, must be left up to your own sick imagination.) Calls have gone unreturned, rumors have been disseminated, ill will and downright disgust have spread through the streets like Athlete’s Foot. So if you, too, are someone who currently hates my guts, here are a few suggestions for enjoying this – and future – SubVersions columns: 1. If you’ve recently suffered the loss of a small pet, you could use this page to cover their quickly decomposing, yet still adorable carcass. In three days time, you may even be lucky enough to find a ghostly image of your former friend burnt indelibly onto the paper, a la the Shroud of Turin. 2. If you happen to be an actress-turned-Olympic-level-archer with a political persuasion that leans precariously to the left (think Geena Davis crossed with Studs Terkel), you could use the line drawing of my face as target practice. 3. If you simply can’t stand the thought of me, you could just skip ahead and get to the goddamned Sudoku already. Due to this recent downturn in public opinion, I’ve been less willing to subject myself to the many ridiculous shindigs this town has to offer, thus unable to produce another wonderfully acerbic and cynical column assailing said shindigs. For example, on a recent evening that offered up at least four completely cringe-worthy events – a Pirate festival, a zombie pub-crawl, a “dark, sexy indie-carnival” and, um, RiverSplash – I instead elected to stay at home and watch a recently purchased VHS copy of Bob Uecker’s Wacky World of Sports. To put it another way (and to quote the great Danny Glover): I’m getting too old for this shit. Nonetheless, I’ve decided to put together a short list of suggestions – should you ever find yourself cut off and ostracized from your loved ones – that […]
Jul 1st, 2007 by Matt Wild
Josh Rouse
“The title was conceived during a 70-mile walk through the north of Spain in October. I thought it was a funny name and it’s similar to Aesop’s tale by the name of Country Mouse and the City Mouse,” Josh Rouse says of his seventh full-length album. Filled with reflective lyrics, the sounds around the words reflect the lyrics themselves. “Put on your winter coat my dear / they say the snow is coming hard / gonna be the worst in years / seems my old wool hat’s disappeared,” he sings on “Snowy,” his blue velvet voice against a backdrop of sparse organ notes and a snare being tapped like a naked tree bough against a frosty window. Rouse still manages to make winter feel sunny by popping horns into songs languid with reverb-y guitars and docile upper octave piano (“Italian Dry Ice” ) and by hooking quickly into “Nice to Fit In” with an upbeat tempo incongruous to lyrics about being alien to a new country and feeling out of place. Rouse uses his trademark classic ‘60s and ‘70s pop sound to pay accidental or intentional homage to pop-folkies Bread, infusing his music with many of the same folk qualities and plenty of jazz. Rouse’s vocal team-ups with Paz Suay (who also works with Rouse in the duo known as “She’s Spanish, I’m American” ) is a sweet addition. Suay’s accented but perfectly complementary vocals lend an even more velvet quality to Roush’s smooth delivery. Country Mouse/City House is a summer release, but perhaps this is makes it captivating. Its seasonal timing is askew – a cold front riding on the heat waves of summer’s usual overly tripped-out pop. Conflicting themes of wanderlust versus holing up at home with one’s sweetheart mirror the feelings of cabin fever normally associated with the winter months. It may not be the hit of the summer, but when “mitten weather” comes (as Charlie Brown once called it), this album will be the one to warm up to. VS
Jul 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Crowded House
Fourteen years since their last album, 11 since their last show and yet it feels almost effortless the way Crowded House pick up where they left off. Admittedly, Time on Earth represents an incomplete reunion – original drummer Mark Hester died in 2005, and keyboardist Mark Hart wasn’t part of the initial lineup – but lead singer and songwriter Tim Finn papers the cracks. It’s not too remarkable that Finn remains a lively creative presence; after Crowded House broke up, he continued to write with his brother Neil, carried on a solo career and collaborated with artists like the Dixie Chicks. (That specific collaboration, “Silent House,” was on their album Taking the Long Way and shows up here as well.) You could say Time on Earth puts Finn back where he belongs, or at least where he’s most comfortable. From the opening track, the lucent and lovely “Nobody Wants To,” Finn and Crowded House don’t seem to have been away. In their absence, no one else really emerged to make mid-tempo pop-rock seem so simultaneously effortless and brilliant. And, at times, a little facile. With his smooth voice and acute ear for accessible melodies and smart lyrics, Finn is like a cousin to Paul McCartney, all prettiness and no edge. But the descending melancholy of “Pour Le Monde,” the sleek romantic hope of “Don’t Stop Now,” and the hushed glimmering of “A Sigh” cannot be denied. Time on Earth spends its own minutes well. VS
Jul 1st, 2007 by Jon Gilbertson
