Life & Art Editor

Legends.

Thnx for tolerating so much Rapture everyone.

:::::::::::::::::::::: RE: NEW YORK IS AWESOME :::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dear New York,

We see your code like Neo (and yes, Matrix allusions are splayed out like Von Dutch truckers on dudes). Unlike a lot of feature journalists outside of The City, we understand it thoroughly as well. Let it be known that we are looking for a $1 mil investment (preferably local) to start a publication based in Miami, Florida.

We think it will go into the black at the conclusion of the debut year. Yes, we know this sounds trite and naive. Ahem: We will put Street (sans Miss Sick) and its fake-Knight Ridder-funded-alternative-journalism-fakery into the trashcans right next to where their bins are currently.

We will put MIA on the map for passionate, enthralling youth culture and wrap it in a huge, rad DIY sticker. How will we do this? The game is to be sold, not to be told. But here’s a three-word taste: No Latin Rock.

Cheers,

HS and OS
L&A Editors

:::::::::::::::: THE FABULOUS RISE OF UM PARTY CULTURE :::::::::::::::

Dear Students with places off campus,

So, now that our football dynasty is on the verge of conclusion (perhaps that is a bleak observation, but quite sad) let’s start a new “dynasty” at UM. To the people with places off campus: let’s start planning parties that form a solid rep – think the consistently wild and social bashes at UNC or FSU but with eighty gallons of style and no Dave Matthews and Weezer.

Think “Bashio.” Need instructions: See “Bashio.”

Need more? Read Clubland: The Fabulous Rise and Murderous Fall of Club Culture by Frank Owen (plenty of SoBe corruption dirt in there too).

Too biz? Again, go see Party Monster on the beach (if you have loud, gay friends it’s, like, even more fabulous like Fabolous’ earrings). Sure, yr house is no Mynt. Sure, yr roomies are broke. Just replace Mac Culkin and Seth Green’s faces with Kid ‘n’ Play and replace coke binges (trims a couple thou) with kegs, and limos and homicide (again, too pricey) with J-ello shots. Realize the city we live in and live accordingly (safely and intelligently).

Cheers to You All,

HS and OS
L&A Editors

:::::::::::::::::: RE: MEETINGS FOR THIS WEEK :::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dear Deans (other than Kevin),

Hi. This is Hunter and Omar’s secretary (hired last week). Mr. Stephenson and Mr. Sommereyns have asked me to contact you via “Smack” regarding the requested meetings for early this week in reference to their “Mustachio Bashio” event and promotions.

Unfortunately, their schedules will not permit said meetings, as they are still picking up L&A embossed champagne glasses and golf balls that were inappropriately discarded on the ballroom floor and country club greens during said private soiree.

They also mentioned something that can loosely be quoted as, “Would it not be great if The Miami Hurricane was eventually independent of the university like oh so many highly regarded collegiate publications? Would it not be great if our elder peers surrounding the publication would occasionally give positive feedback and be aware of the newest in journalistic trends and ideas? Would it not be great if this was a perfect world?”

Mr. Sommereyns and Mr. Stephenson gave no answers to these questions and I am left in awe (as always) as to what they meant.

Sincerely,

Albert Stache
L&A Secretary

DJ SPOOKY THAT SUBLIMINAL KID vs. TWILIGHT CIRCUS DUB SOUND SYSTEM
Riddim Clash
***

DJ Spooky does not hit you with played out retro hooks and Candy Land Club Space-esque trance. As the originator of his own trip hop genre called illbient, Spooky has transcended the boring, overexposed notion of the DJ, chikka chikka et cetera, to reside on a man-less plain where Sprite is nonexistent.

Dust off that PSY 110 book that you could never sell back because this subliminal kid comes strong from all angles, blowing your mind so methodically that Riddim Clash will leave you feeling like carved and scooped out like a jack-o-lantern sans preparation.

Or how about this simile? It creeps into your subconscious like a mutant worm on a mission to eat away the remaining vestiges of hope and sanity that keep you this side of the edge. The kid doesn’t tunnel his way in through your navel though.

No, instead he shocks you into submission with the unilateral chant “We are not afraid” delivered by what I can only envision as a group of maybe a hundred neo-Nazis congregated in an abandoned subway tunnel and armed to the teeth.

Thanks to some lo-fi skeletal bass and more excellent remixing by Twilight Circus’ Ryan Moore of Canada, the tracks feed on undeniable anxiousness with their dungeon-Goth vibe and horror flick resonance. As his namesake implies, Spooky is an out-there dude, but working in Moore’s house of echoes and frequencies is utterly bugged out point-of-no-return.

Adding to fluidity and concept, each of the ten tracks trickle into the ears innocently enough but then fail to deliver that subconsciously sought change in tempo to provide deliverance from the spreading negativity his beats induce.

The eerily monotonous rhythms breed depression and seem to trap you like an incredibly bad trip. Spooky. DJ Spooky makes you want to escape but at the same time convinces you that there is no escape. By the way, all of this is done with instrumental dub and scarce lyrics.

This is not a CD; it’s more of an experience on the dark side. You feel alive all while he convinces you that life just isn’t worth living. Surgeon’s General Warning: do not mix with hallucinogens, bouts of massive depression and/or sharp objects and small children.

THE DARKNESS
Permission to Land
***

Many heavy metal groups spawned from industrial provinces in England -Black Sabbath and Judas Priest from Birmingham, Def Leppard from Yorkshire and, now, The Darkness from Norfolk. Though while these falsetto singing, cock-rocking performers are wallowing in fame in their homeland, they’ve had limited exposure over here so far, performing at indie fests like Austin’s South by Southwest and the Siren Festival on Coney Island, NY.

Nevertheless, Permission to Land fucking rocks: balls against the wall, pure fist-pumping, head-banging pleasure. Unlike Andrew WK, they shift between partying and sentimentality that harks back to classic ballads like “Bringing on a Heartbreak” or “More Than a Feeling.”

Kicking off with “Black Shuck” – thrusting in adrenaline like any AC/DC album – where the businessmen and priests “forgot to give a fuck,” front man Justin Hawkins then rabidly screams into their first single with another driving guitar line in “Get Your Hands Off My Woman.” The first of their power rock ballads is up next with Hawkins’ crooning, “You’re a part of me now and I only have myself to blame,” in “Growing On Me.”

Running throughout all the songs is the lyrical trait of fitting more words than you could imagine into one breath, bringing to mind another ’80s or ’70s rock band: their second single and newest video is a perfect example of this, “I Believe In a Thing Called Love” where Hawkins’ “heart is in overdrive and you’re behind the steering wheel.” The rest of the album cuts between more ballads like “Love is Only a Feeling” along with the party anthems “Givin’ Up” and “Friday Night.”

As refreshing as Permission to Land is in the present music industry, it’s still nothing new and listening to Def Leppard’s Pyromania, AC/DC’s Back in Black or whatever is your favorite hair band album may be more fulfilling than these displaced partiers.

Life & Art Secretary

Photos by Samantha Riepe
Life & Art Designer

What is this, MediaBistro.com?

Well, sort of, except the staff, media friends and fellow partiers of L&A lack that, “I write about important people in a bland cubicle all day and have a dire social life” look permeating from their eyes as they crack a smile with other boring journos and one-martini-tipsy editrixes and editors.

After making 5,000 glossy flyers and getting supremely minute amounts of zzzzz, the 1st annual “Life & Art Mustachio Bashio” went off, as L&A’s Ben Harrison would hollar, “Without a hitch!” Look out for a new L&A column entitled for “Sven und Ben’s Endless Vinyl Knowledge” in some dimension where people dress like Ben (above) everyday and cars chat about nice weather.

Our senior rap writer, Svengali Barth, went all Michelangelo on us and created this re-working of The Last Supper featuring a tribute to ‘stached vigilante Charles Bronson – in three days (!). Our wall is currently on sale for $19,000.

UM’s Private ‘Stache – Noah, MJ and B-Rob of The Empirical Mile – slayed with A+ laptop beats and more rhymes than a bottle’s got songs!

When the party was over, it looked like a dirt bike race had happened indoors. There were skate stickers everywhere, fake blood covered the bathroom, some kid left a red boxing glove on a couch (?) and some other kid was passed out on another. But it was all good. Lots of memories and connex were made. Plus, some dude named OCD Dan is cleaning our crib for ten dollars.

Life & Art Editor

Albert Stache
Life & Art Secretary

Photos by Samantha Riepe
Life & Art Designer

What is this, MediaBistro.com?

Well, sort of, except the staff, media friends and fellow partiers of L&A lack that, “I write about important people in a bland cubicle all day and have a dire social life” look permeating from their eyes as they crack a smile with other boring journos and one-martini-tipsy editrixes and editors.

After making 5,000 glossy flyers and getting supremely minute amounts of zzzzz, the 1st annual “Life & Art Mustachio Bashio” went off, as L&A’s Ben Harrison would hollar, “Without a hitch!” Look out for a new L&A column entitled for “Sven und Ben’s Endless Vinyl Knowledge” in some dimension where people dress like Ben (above) everyday and cars chat about nice weather.

Our senior rap writer, Svengali Barth, went all Michelangelo on us and created this re-working of The Last Supper featuring a tribute to ‘stached vigilante Charles Bronson – in three days (!). Our wall is currently on sale for $19,000.

UM’s Private ‘Stache – Noah, MJ and B-Rob of The Empirical Mile – slayed with A+ laptop beats and more rhymes than a bottle’s got songs!

When the party was over, it looked like a dirt bike race had happened indoors. There were skate stickers everywhere, fake blood covered the bathroom, some kid left a red boxing glove on a couch (?) and some other kid was passed out on another. But it was all good. Lots of memories and connex were made. Plus, some dude named OCD Dan is cleaning our crib for ten dollars.

Life & Art Editor

Albert Stache
Life & Art Secretary

What is this, MediaBistro.com?

Well, sort of, except the staff, media friends and fellow partiers of L&A lack that, “I write about important people in a bland cubicle all day and have a dire social life” look permeating from their eyes as they crack a smile with other boring journos and one-martini-tipsy editrixes and editors.

After making 5,000 glossy flyers and getting supremely minute amounts of zzzzz, the 1st annual “Life & Art Mustachio Bashio” went off, as L&A’s Ben Harrison would hollar, “Without a hitch!” Look out for a new L&A column entitled for “Sven und Ben’s Endless Vinyl Knowledge” in some dimension where people dress like Ben (above) everyday and cars chat about nice weather.

Our senior rap writer, Svengali Barth, went all Michelangelo on us and created this re-working of The Last Supper featuring a tribute to ‘stached vigilante Charles Bronson – in three days (!). Our wall is currently on sale for $19,000.

UM’s Private ‘Stache – Noah, MJ and B-Rob of The Empirical Mile – slayed with A+ laptop beats and more rhymes than a bottle’s got songs!

When the party was over, it looked like a dirt bike race had happened indoors. There were skate stickers everywhere, fake blood covered the bathroom, some kid left a red boxing glove on a couch (?) and some other kid was passed out on another. But it was all good. Lots of memories and connex were made. Plus, some dude named OCD Dan is cleaning our crib for ten dollars.

Upon walking into Ambrosino, a small North Miami gallery, the raspy-yet-sweet voice of a woman calls out and asks, “Do you like me?” It comes from a bespectacled wrinkled face in a television set with a black cloak draped over it, giving the illusion that there is a person in the room.
The work, a DVD continuous loop by Lou Anne Colodny called “I like U,” is one of sixteen pieces on view at the space’s new exhibit, It’s Hard to Figure.

The woman looks at you so intently from behind the thick-rimmed glasses that it’s hard to tear away and peruse the rest of the exhibit. Just when you think you can escape, she beckons in a whiny, childish voice, “Don’t look away, don’t look away.” The haunting face keeps you there until the loop ends.

When you’re finally free to wander, the first piece that catches your eye is Paul Mullins’ oil on wood, “Championship Belt.” The painting is not your typical homage to a boxer where the subject in question is posed, dukes up, staring off into the distance. No, Mullins gives it to you straight, focusing just on a husky midriff section sporting a massive championship belt. The earthen tones and chunky paint strokes add the drama that seems to be missing from the figure itself.

What’s an exhibit dedicated to the human figure without the ineluctable sexual theme? Well, Gustavo Roman centers his work strictly around crude sex. His “Practice Makes Perfect” shows a woman, legs spread, engaging in self-gratification. But, be warned, the depiction is not the traditional sensual masturbation scene.

This one is raw and almost disturbing as the woman uses her fist for the aforementioned pleasing.

Roman doesn’t bother adding more drama to the already shocking pieces with color. His use of inky black lines on white paper could have undermined its power, but doesn’t. In fact, the lack of color seems to capitalize on the lack of intimacy of each painting.

Unlike the larger than life “Championship Belt” that doesn’t require an up-close-and-personal look, Carol K. Brown’s “Encounters” does. The series of thirty 5″ x 7″ pieces is by far the most intimate work in the exhibit.

Each acrylic-on-paper evokes such a strong sense of silence that it seems to block out the ever-present voice in Coldony’s piece. The scenes here are two or more people interacting with others and often with themselves. Each figure is intricately detailed except for facial features, left for the imagination of the viewer – a girl smoking a cigarette, two boys playing, a couple embracing…slices of ordinary life.

Jorge Pantoja picks up where Carol K. Brown leaves off and his paintings also have the same sense of tranquility of Brown’s work. Different body parts like the back of a girl’s head or the Venus de Milo-inspired “Model” are highlighted here. The latter piece, mixed media on paper, is the armless torso of a woman in the softest pink and ivory, almost invisible on the frame.

At first, it’s difficult to find the common ground in this show because of a miscellany of technique and style, but the artists, each vastly different from the other, still elucidate the multiplicity of human relationships and the visceral sensuality of our bodies. That’s compelling enough to try and pull off, isn’t it?

It’s Hard to Figure is on view at the Ambrosino Gallery, 769 NE 125th St., North Miami, with works by Carol K. Brown, Lou Anne Colodny, Paul MullinS, Jorge Pantoja, Ali Prosch and Gustavo Roman, through November 22. Call 305-891-5577 for more info.

Ambar Hernandez can be reached at weetchie@hotmail.com