Raising (My Opinion of) Arizona

Posted on May 15, 2011 by killerfemme

The first tweet I wrote when I landed in Phoenix said, “I hope I don’t get kicked out of Arizona for looking like an immigrant.” Arizona has drawn quite a lot of media scorn for the proposal, which was thankfully defeated, to stop and ID anyone who might look like they were an undocumented immigrant. While there’s a lot of conservative, reactionary politics going on in the United States, Arizona seems like the epicenter of some of the most virulently racist and reactionary policy proposals. Tucson even wants to succeed and form their own state to get away from some of the worst of these policies. However, there’s another side to Arizona. It’s a stark, beautiful, other worldly landscape. There’s a vibrant cultural scene and strong history and everyone I met (who granted were all involved in the arts) were friendly and welcoming and happy to show me another side of Arizona.
Despite being a short flight from Albuquerque, Phoenix felt very different. While Albuquerque quickly receded into the desert, Phoenix’s suburbs sprawled out along palm tree lined avenues. “Who do they think they are, L.A.?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what I would find, but tucked into Phoenix’s sprawl is a vibrant, growing downtown arts scene. It is anchored by the Alwun House, a historic house that presents exhibits and performances of all kinds and takes an active role in the revitalization of the neighborhood. I tried out Carly’s Bistro, a fresh, local culinary establishment that’s open late serving good food and cocktails with a rock and roll feel. Try the whiskey sangria!

Whiskey sangria at Carly's Bistro

Across the river from Phoenix in Tempe is the gleaming Tempe Center for the Arts that presents performing and visual arts, as well as art education programs. During an opening for their exhibition Twenty Questions I even met the grand daughter of the man who founded Tempe – that just shows how new towns and cities in the west are compared to the east.

Artwork in the Twenty Questions exhibition

I didn’t stay in Phoenix long, however, and after a fruitless morning of trying to buy sun hat (are these people in denial they live in the desert or what?) I headed down to the Saguaro National Forest and then to Tucson. I first stopped at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museumto look at living exhibits of native desert plants and animals. I loved the chance to see coyotes, javalinas (they look like wild boars) and a very sleepy brown bear up close, but if you are looking for desert walking I would skip the Desert Museum and go straight to the Saguaro National Forest.

Sign at the Desert Museum

I got there in the afternoon and was happily surprised to find out the park was free thanks to National Parks Week. I talked with a Ranger who recommended a 3-mile hike to the top of a ridge and gave me this warning, “Since you are unfamiliar with the landscape I will warn you to be careful when you are walking down hill during sunset because you don’t want to step on a rattlesnake.” No thanks, I did not!

I had never seen a Saguaro cactus up close before and I could not get enough of them! Their arms! Their spines! Like trees, but not at all! So stoic against the elements!

After a few hours of wandering around among the Saguaros I drove into Tucson and checked into the Hotel Arizona. I had a corner room and could see the sunset over Grant’s Pass.

However, it was Easter Sunday and I was worried, where would I find anything to eat that wasn’t a chain restaurant in downtown Tucson? I asked the teenage front desk clerk and he suggested The Grill, “It’s kind of a greasy spoon…” he explained. Sure, why not. I wandered towards where he suggested and found myself face to face with a classic, American diner. It was as if I had dreamed it. Punk rock, queer teen waiter, great menu, perfect vinyl covered booths, and a hamburger that tasted like it had been homemade, not pulled out of a freezer. Did I mention it was open 24 hours?
I felt like I had been transported into an issue of Puberty Strike zine, published by Seth Bogartin the 1990’s and extoling the virtues and vices of teenage life in Tucson. The Grill felt surely like the place the coolest teens in town would hang out. But now that I’m an adult I needed a drink after all my wandering in the desert. “Do you have a bar?” I asked the waiter, a little desperate because I had seen the hotel bar close at 7:30. “We have a great bar next door, they open at eight.” Was I dreaming?

Death in the Afternoon at the Red Room

After I finished the best hamburger I’ve eaten besides those that SMH makes me I wandered over to the bar. Now I was really dreaming. The Red Room, the bar attached to The Grill has a menu of carefully selected Belgian beers and American microbrews. As I sipped on a perfect blonde ale from Belgium I noticed cocktail making accouterments. “You make cocktails too?” I asked the bartender, “What are the drinks you like making lately?” Once I finished my beer I ordered one that he suggested, the Death in the Afternoon, a mixture of Absinthe, champagne, bitters and soda water, garnished with freshly picked Borage flowers. For $6! I laughed as I paid him, saying, “I live in New York and there this would cost $12!” “No,” he said, “I was just there, it was $14!”

Tools at Bicas

The next day I was treated to a walking tour of Tucson’s rail yards gallery and studio district. I really liked discovering art and radical community projects such as Bicas, a bike recycling and education center, and the Citizens Art collective. I also got to drop in on the intense universe of Mat Bevel, who makes immersive kinetic sculptures out of found objects. When all the sculptures were activated his studio and gallery space was cacophonous and transporting. We also dropped in on Santa Theresa Tile Works, who make gorgeous hand made ceramic tiles, and and Raices Taller, a nonprofit community gallery focused on the Latino/a community (but not only).

Bevel Kinetic Institute

After all that inspiration I was also able to fit in a little bit of thrift store shopping at a richly endowed and modestly priced Goodwill. I don’t even both with the Goodwill stores in NYC, but I knew this one wouldn’t be so picked over. I scored two skirts, a pair of light wash Levi jean shorts that will either be my best fashion addition for the summer or a huge mistake, and a work-appropriate button shirt, all for $20! I also popped into Preen, a beautiful vintage shop that also sells records by local bands and some local fashions. I picked up a vintage Vera scarf that reminded me of a 60’s flight attendant uniform in a good way.

You need a parasol to sheild you from Tucson's strong sun

Street art Zebra in Tucson's rail yards

Finally, to cool off from all the shopping I caught a drink at the lovingly restored Hotel Congress, where I could have stayed all afternoon if I didn’t have to work! Since Tucson was the last stop on my southwest tour I celebrated with a fancy dinner and cocktail at 47 Scott. My drink was infused with sage, which felt like a fitting tribute to the end of an inspiring journey through a (previously) unknown land.

Vagabond cocktail and dinner, 47 Scott

There’s more Arizona on my Flickr stream.

Enchanted by the Land of Enchantment

Posted on May 4, 2011 by killerfemme

If I was disoriented in Colorado, then New Mexico felt like a whole other country. It actually was another country until it was ceded to the US in 1850, but beyond history, it struck me as being somewhere else entirely. With all the debates raging over who and who is not American and who should be here or not I think it’s important to remember that borders are politically imagined constructs that change over time. Spanish and Native American languages here are more “native” than English. Streets and towns are named in Spanish. Since getting off the plane in Albuquerque felt like stepping into a new dimension I felt comfortable with the state’s tagline as the “Land of Enchantment.”
For three days I bounced between Albuquerque and Santa Fe. I stayed in Santa Fe at a lovely inn on the commercial strip of Cerillos road. While mostly I would hate the strip mall nature of the road (yes, there are tons of chain stores), I also grew to love it. It is the main artery towards town and where you’ll find anything you need at almost any hour of the day. I even bought some Essie nail polish in pastel shades late at night at the Walgreens.

Windswept in New Mexico

Institute of American Indian Arts

I also was delighted to get out of town a little and visit the Institute for American Indian Arts(or IAIA), which has a new campus and a great art school. It seems everything a college should be – community oriented, cultural respectful, forward looking, fun and in a beautiful location.

Ruth Claxton's site-specific installation at SITE Santa Fe

I also visited SITE Santa Fe, which is a very exciting contemporary art center. While Santa Fe is known more for “traditional” arts and crafts (as well as tourist arts) there is a very vibrant contemporary art scene. Many prominent artists who defined experimental art in the 20th century live in Santa Fe and their influence shows. SITE is doing a lot to promote contemporary art in the Santa Fe community (and beyond) and while I was there had an excellent show of Amy Cutler’s work, as well as a room sized installation by Ruth Claxton that was fabricated, well, on site.

Southwestern religious art in the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel

Negroni by the fireside at the St. Francis Hotel

Santa Fe is also a great food town, which I wrote about on 2 cooks. I also was lucky enough to connect with an New York friend who was also in town and we got fancy cocktails at the Hotel St. Francis and not so fancy cocktails (but served with a straw, classy!) at The Matador, the most excellent (and perhaps only) punk rock dive bar in town. Awesome punk rock tunes were being spun. The bartender was friendly. Thank goodness we had a friend living in Santa Fe to show us it was there.

In the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel

My most enchanting New Mexico experience, however, came when I drove one hour north of Santa Fe. I drove towards Los Alamos before turning off to the small town of Abiquiu. This is where Georgia O’Keefe lived, but I was visiting the contemporary artist Sabra Moore, who has made her home on top of a mesa with her partner Roger. I drove over a cattle guard and along a twisting, steep, narrow dirt road, inching my rental car over washed out areas.

View down the arroyo in Abiquiu

Abiquiu, New Mexico

After I arrived we walked through the arroyo near her adobe house and straw bale studio as the light turned from gold to red and the evening approached. She told me about the history of town and she and Roger pointed out the ancient petroglyphs carved into the canyon walls.

Petroglyph on the arroyo wall in Abiquiu, New Mexico

Taking in the landscape as day faded into night, witnessing evidence of a civilization older than I can reliably imagine, and hearing about two artists’ lives, I thought about how this was a moment in my life that will never be replicated. Though I hope to, I may never return to this place, but, like most places that strike us, I will keep it with me. After a delicious dinner made out of local produce and inspired by local food traditions I stared up up at the stars, which at 7,000 feet and away from city lights, looked considerably closer than usual. I was filled with gratitude and allowed myself to let go of questions, doubts, and angst that had been nagging at me all week. I dared to let myself be filled with a deep sense of peace. Maybe there really is something about the “land of enchantment.”

Evening, Abiquiu, New Mexico

There’s even more New Mexico on my flickr stream.

In The Mile High City, Just Barely

Posted on May 2, 2011 by killerfemme

View of Pike's Peak outside of Manitou Springs

If you know me, or have been reading my blog for awhile, you know I have a complicated and somewhat fraught relationship to this country where I was born and live. I often am in the midst of plotting how I can leave and have at times created an identity, look and approach to life based on imagining I live in another country (most likely a francophone country in Western Europe). When my early morning flight touched down at the Denver International Airport the other week I had a hard time recognizing where I was. I’ve been to the West before (I have family in Wyoming and spent my childhood summers going out there to visit them), but it’s been awhile. As I sat on the shuttle to my rental car I looked slackjawed at the plains colliding with the rocky mountains. I felt like I’d been dropped into a very different place that was nowhere like where I’m from. So despite my skepticism about the United States I had to admit – this landscape was pretty majestic.

In the Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs

The breathtaking sense of awe for the landscape I felt was only intensified when I drove to Colorado Springs that afternoon and took a walk through the Garden of the Gods, a formation of jutting red rocks just outside of town. They are so named because some early settlers from the East Coast thought that it would be a good place for a beer garden! I was also rudely reminded to heed the warnings that I had been issued as someone who lives at sea level – my energetic walk around the rocks caused a real bought of altitude sickness, a form of dizzy exhaustion that I do not want to feel again.

Tofu at Adam's Mountain Cafe, Manitou Springs

The window at Back Cat Books, Manitou Springs

The next day I reminded myself to walk slowly while I visited the Business of Art Center and explored the small town of Manitou Springs, whose main street is lined with mineral water springs that you can drink from. I had lunch at Adam’s Mountain Cafe, which is located in an old spa building right along the creek that runs through town, and peered in the windows of the cute shops along the street. Manitou Springs is right at the base of Pike’s Peak and full of good places to eat and even an old school arcade right in the center of town.

Downtown Denver, Union Station

I only got to spend one very short evening in Denver, but it was lovely. First I visited the wonderful gallery, reading room, education center and artist residency at RedLine. I tried a local Colorado red wine and fried blue cheese balls (decadent!) at The Lobby, a homey bar and restaurant just down the street from RedLine. I finished my evening with a drink at the Cruise Room, a classy cocktail bar that looks like the inside of a cruise ship which reportedly opened the day after prohibition ended and is located at the very classic Oxford Hotel where I was staying. The hotel even gives you a fluffy bathrobe with your room! Colorado may not at all be like where I’m from, but I loved being there.

Sipping and reading at the Cruise Room

Want more Colorado? On my Flickr stream!

Join me for tea and feminist talk

Posted on April 13, 2011 by killerfemme

The artists Caitlin Reuter and Suzanne Stroebe have taken over a portion of NYFA’s Brooklyn office/gallery in the most delightful way – they have installed what looks like a Victorian style parlor, complete with wallpaper, curtains and furniture, and invited the public in over the course of this week for tea, baked goods, and conversation on feminist topics as part of their “Feminist Tea Party” project series.

I’m thrilled that I get to join them as part of the project this Friday, April 15 at 2:30 to 3:30 p.m. to discuss the question of “Is there such a thing as feminist aesthetics?” I’m interested in discussing not just visual art, but music, performance,literature, film, you name it. Feminist artists have consistently challenged what is the nature of “art” and I wonder after all of these challenges is there still something as feminist aesthetics? Was there ever? Who cares? Come have tea and let’s chat!

I also have to say I love this project because it matches my (killerfemme) feminist aesthetics and you can bet I’ll be decked out in my 1950’s style best.

For more information, a schedule of the other talks, and information about the artists visit their blog!

Corita in the Studio: An Album by Dominick Mastrangelo

Posted on April 3, 2011 by killerfemme

Recording hand claps with Corita by Dominick Mastrangelo

I met Dominick Mastrangelo by not-so-random chance. When I first started review shows for Venus Zine (RIP) he was the photographer assigned to my second-ever review- the Carrots at Cake Shop. When I saw a nice guy with a “real”camera shooting them I asked, “Are you Dominick?” and mentioned I would soon be traveling to Glasgow to see (and review) My Blood Valentine. He mentioned he’d been there and emailed me some travel tips. A friendship was born (I’ll leave out the part where 3 months later I temporarily forgot his name while waiting in line to see Ted Leo for free at Castle Clinton). For over a year we became a writer and photographer team, covering indie rock luminaries such as Bon Iver at Town Hall, the mud bath that was (the last) All Points West in 2009, and small, more humble affairs at the likes of Cake Shop.

Reviewing recording notes by Dominick Mastrangelo

Dominick has also been the documentarian of Corita since the beginning. It’s been wonderful to see him grow as a photographer over the past few years and hopefully he’s also seen us grow as a band. In February, when we were recording with Joel Hamburger at GodelString studios he nicely came and made pictures of us in the midst of a very busy day of shooting! I already shared some of those photos with you, but here are some more, not just of me, but of the band. What he does so well as a photographer is capture the feeling of the moment. In these pictures you can see exactly what I love about Corita, even though we’re not even playing our instruments. These three people who push me to create and perform the best I can, who let me laugh, and, most importantly, give me the space to be exactly who I am.

Corita listening closely by Dominick Mastrangelo

Aileen and Nick by Dominick Mastrangelo. I love Aileen's smile.

Nick making drummer like motions by Dominick Mastrangelo

Marisha by Dominick Mastrangelo

Aileen with Joel Hamburger in the background by Dominick Mastrangelo

Marisha by Dominick Mastrangelo

Nick by Dominick Mastrangelo

Me and Nick by Dominick Mastrangelo

Taking a rest on the recording notes by Dominick Mastrangelo

A Place in the Sun

Posted on March 19, 2011 by killerfemme

View of White Bay beach through a palm leaf

As an earnest liberal arts undergrad I studied “Race, Ethnicity, and Postcolonial Studies” as part of my degree. As a result, I thought of the Caribbean as a place with an enduring legacy of slavery, a proud history of anti-colonial struggle, and a place where identities, cultures, and ethnicities overlap and intermix to create “hybrid” identities (a favorite term in the 90’s, I hear its less in favor in the academy now). I saw the Caribbean as a multitude of nations of which people are immensely proud, immensely tied to the island they come from, and immensely skeptical, especially as demonstrated by the huge, and famous, West Indian Labor Day parade that takes place here in Brooklyn. All that to say that I really never saw the Caribbean as a place to go on vacation. However, last winter I had had it with the cold, snow and slush and decided that there had to be a better way than suffering through it all. So when the opportunity came this winter to go somewhere sunny for a 5-day getaway I thought, “Hmmm…”

: Ivan’s Stress Free Bar

SMH had some friends who lived on St. Thomas for several years who recommended a place on a beach on some island near there with an honor bar. That sounded promising. When we inquired further they told us about Ivan’s Stress Free Bar, which is part of Ivan’s Stress Free Resort on White Bay on the island of Jost Van Dyke, part of the British Virgin Islands. Jost Van Dyke is named for a Dutch pirate, and White Bay has been voted one of the top 10 beaches in the Caribbean by some travel magazine or another, and I believe it. Even better, cabins (really a sturdy plywood shack with pastel colors with a bed, mini fridge and window screens and perhaps a porch) were $75 a night in the high season, a price you would find hard to beat anywhere in the Caribbean. So I booked us a cabin at Ivan’s, figured out how to get to Jost Van Dyke, and decided to not plan any further.

White Bay, Jost Van Dyke

Before I wax poetic about how much I loved it let me tell you: This is not the place to come if you want to go clubbing, indulge in luxury duty-free shopping, swim with dolphins, get a spa treatment or do yoga on the beach. This is not the place to come if you are upset by occasionally sharing space with (small) ants, or mind getting sand everywhere, or insist on a hot shower. However, if you are looking for a slice of paradise right here on earth with soft white sand, crystaline blue water, palm trees and a bar where you can order the perfect tropical cocktail with coconut, orange juice, pineapple juice, run and fresh nutmeg called the “Painkiller” from some of the nicest people you will meet, and not have to rub elbows with loads of offensive tourists, this place if for you.

Our cabin at Ivan's Stress Free Resort

After we called to make our reservation at Ivan’s (I highly recommend calling) we found out that it had been featured in an article by the (former) Frugal Traveler in the New York Times in 2006. Little has changed since then, although now Ivan’s usually employs a bartender (most evenings its Dorian, who is also a cricket player for the BVI’s team -amazing) instead of being fully a mix-it-yourself kind of place.

Ivan's Stress Free Bar Interior

: Hiking the spine of Jost Van Dyke and ascending 0 to 1,000 feet above sea level very quickly! Those white dots are goats on the path.

Despite our avoiding planning too heavily we found plenty to do, and struck a perfect balance between sitting on the beach and reading and exploring the island. This island is small. You can walk over the steep hills in to town, which had a sand main street, and go to Foxy’s, which might be the most famous bar in the British Virgin Islands. Jost Van Dyke is quiet island which is about 4 miles long and inhabited by more goats than people, which we encountered when we took a grueling, then revelatory, hike along the spine of the island. The hike, rumored to be among the best in the Caribbean, revealed glittering views of the the ocean and Tortola and St. John.

: Jost Van Dyke Great Harbor from above. St. John in the background.

Bubbly Pool, Jost Van Dyke

We ended our hike in the bubbly pool, which is like a natural hot tub refilled by crashing ocean waves and then a meal at Foxy’s Taboo, a bar and restaurant owned by Foxy (and named for his big black dog Taboo) on the far side of the island. We later met Foxy briefly on the main dock in town scaling freshly caught fish on his fishing boat and when we told him we lived in Brooklyn he smiled and said, “I gotta get up there to Play Mas sometime.”

Norman Island and the caves that inspired Robert Louis Stevenson

We also took a day long snorkeling trip with BVI Eco Tours, where an amazingly nice group of Aussie and Californian surfer dudes served as our guides and captain. It was an incredible 6 hour long adventure for a very cheap price and included a stop for lunch at Pirate’s Bight on the otherwise uninhabited Norman island. On Norman island we also go to snorkel into caves that reportedly inspired Robert Lewis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. At the end of the day they mixed us up some rum punch on board our boat, which was the perfect way to end the day after swimming in the beautiful water. We also rented snorkel gear for 4 days from the same place, which was great.

Jost Van Dyke Main Street

Food is not cheap on the islands so we tried to minimize how much we ate out by cooking out own. We brought a bunch of dried, canned food, but what we quickly learned in the campground communal cookstove lacked the oomph we take for granted from our stove at home. In the future we will bring plenty of heat and serve food. However, on the night we arrived it was Ivan’s Thursday night barbeque. We splurged and at $25 each got heaping servings of rice, pasta, salad, barbeque ribs, fish, and chicken. That is a lot of money for food in the states, but keep in mind that everything has to boated in to the island.

The good life on White Bay

As different of a setting as it is, Jost Van Dyke reminded me of the islands off the coast of Maine like North Haven and Monhegan where I used to go for a few days in the summer to visit friends. As a necessity you have to live lightly on the land there and you can’t take any resource for granted. The towns are small and after a few days everyone waves at you as you walk around. It was the same on Jost. Our waiter from Foxy’s Taboo, who also turned out to be the custom’s officer, remembered us while we were waiting at the ferry dock. On Jost, like the island in Maine, while it’s clear who’s an outsider and who’s a local no one is made to feel unwelcome if you are respectful of the place and the culture and don’t act like an invading horde.

West End Harbor, Tortola

Getting to Jost Van Dyke is simple, but not always quick. We flew into St. Thomas (in the USVI), took a ferry to West End in Tortola, where we cleared Her Majesty’s Customs and Immigration, and then took another ferry to Jost. All worked smoothly, but going back to St. Thomas a ferry that was supposed to take us to there via St. John was an hour late, which caused a bunch of fretting and nail biting on my part because I was worried we would miss our flight. We didn’t, but next time will take a cue from another couple who were headed home. They booked a night in a Best Western on St. Thomas near the airport (and right on the beach) so they had a day cushion and didn’t need to worry about how late the ferry was.

Sunset Hike, Jost Van Dyke

Writing this in Brooklyn it’s hard to imagine that perfect beach, balmy breeze, soft sand, azure water, and the sound of waves crashing on the beach as we slept in a pastel colored cabin were real, but it’s right down there, just a flight and two boat rides away, paradise attained, even for a skeptic like me.

White Bay in the late afternoon

Dressing Up The Details

Posted on March 9, 2011 by killerfemme

This week my style has been all about the details. I’ve been really into metal studs in places you wouldn’t expect like a headband, dress collar, or on tights, and have been enjoying that little extra special touch that makes an ordinary outfit just a little more fun.

Punk Rock Meets Madmen Brooklyn Industries Dress. Essie "Chinchilly: nail polish.

Robert Clergerie Shoes (again)

Aveda "Poppy" red lipstick with a new dottie Brooklyn Industries shirt

Wing necklace from So Very Charming

Studded tights from Monoprix

Heavy metal accessories

Things That Make Me Go “Argh”

Posted on March 9, 2011 by killerfemme

I enjoy biking and public goods like the shore parkway bikelane, a relatively clean New York Harbor, and the Verrazzano bridge (even though bikes and pedestrians cannot go on it)

It’s been a long time since there’s been anything “political” on this blog. I’ve honestly stayed away from it, letting my politics play out in my real life and letting the blog be for posting pictures of pretty things that I find and snapshots and reflections from my adventures near and far. But these past few weeks I’ve found myself the maddest I’ve been about politics since George W. Bush was in office! There’s a few big issues that are sticking in my craw, but I feel that they can all be understood via the prism of economic analysis.

First, the issues:

The lawsuit against NYC Transportation Commissioner Janette Sadik-Khan over the (amazing!) bike lane on Prospect Park West in Brooklyn and general backlash against bike lanes, bikers, and traffic calming measures in New York in general. Never mind that traffic accidents are down, speeding is down on Prospect Park West, bike ridership is up, and business has increased in areas where traffic calming measures have been put into place, such as Broadway.

The backlash against NPR and the move by the federal government to remove all federal funding from NPR and PBS. Despite Republicans constant whining that NPR does not represent them fairly or give them enough air time, NPR often features more republican interviews than democrats and is really one of the few truly balanced news options available for the US. And never mind that PBS is the only channel on television that offers intelligent, non-hyperbolic analysis of the evolving situation in the Middle East (thank you, Charlie Rose).

The move to severely reduce funding for the National Endowment for the Arts on the federal level, and the New York State Council on the Arts on the state level. Yes, we have a deficit, but is cutting funding to the arts, which provides jobs and enriches our culture (in fact, defines it) worth the benefit and savings? I say no.

The move by the federal government to remove all funding from Planned Parenthood. Barefoot and in the kitchen, here we come.

Excuse my sarcasm, but others have done a much better job outlining the situation than I. The question on my mind lately has been, “Where is the coordinated, energetic movement to support and protect these important public assets?” Yes, there’s been campaigns to write your representatives, and some nifty protests, but not widespread, public support. “Why?” I asked myself, “When many people benefit from these resources.” Fortunately, there’s economics.

Basically, it goes back to the theory of public goods versus private goods. A good is public when anyone can access it (as in they are “not excludable”) and one persons use does not diminish another person’s use. Rival goods are when anyone can access it, but a person’s use of that good takes away from another person’s enjoyment of that good. Economist Jonathan Gruber states that most goods we think of as “public goods” are really “impure public goods,” because they are not fully non-excludable or non-rival. ANYWAY… economic theory goes that people undervalue what they can get for free or don’t have to directly pay for. While we all pay for public services like roads, parks, and libraries via our taxes, we tend to undervalue them because we are not directly paying for that service.

Then there’s the problem of a “free rider,” someone who doesn’t pay at all for these services (as in “public goods”) and enjoys their benefits. NPR is a good example. I’m a total free rider. I haven’t given to WNYC in about 4 years, but I listen everyday! Bike lanes are another example. I have absolutely benefited from the work of Janet Sadik-Khan and the Department of Transportation to make the city a more bike and pedestrian friendly place. I just joined Transportation Alternatives last year to put my money where my wheels and feet are, but mostly I just took for granted that things would get “better” for those of us non-drivers.

So my theory is that most people who enjoy services that tend to be championed by the democrats (but really cross party lines and have nothing to do with political parties really) are free riders who enjoy the benefits without thinking about the cost. In addition, people like drivers who are angry that their parking has been reduced by a bike lane and that they can no longer drive 50 miles an hour down a city street are not thinking about the fact that public resources like city streets can be rival in consumption and that their use of streets takes away from the ability of others to use it. In addition, drivers and parkers are “free riders” because they don’t think of cost of streets and parking and when they are asked to bear even a little bit of it (such as in Mayor Bloomberg’s congestion pricing proposal for downtown Manhattan) they freak out and bring a lawsuit.

This also relates to theories of positive and negatives “externalities”- the additional social benefit (positive) or cost (negative) generated by a good or activity. I would say that bike lanes are a positive externality and thus undervalued, and driving is a negative externality, which means that society bears a cost for driving (through air pollution, dangerous and congested streets, etc.) that is not borne by the drivers themselves.

I was totally vindicated because a writer for the Economist came up with almost the exact same theory in respect to the bike lanes! I am so grateful for the Economist I will certainly renew my subscription!

But my message is this: Think about the benefit you receive from the things you value, whether it be safe streets, quality news coverage, reproductive health and choice, and a vibrant arts community, and think about how you can support those. It need not be with money, but think about the opportunity cost here: when we are talking about public goods, whatever we give up, be it our time, money or energy, we get back even more than we could possibly put a price on.

Baltimore Charm City, Hon

Posted on March 9, 2011 by killerfemme

The other times I had been to Baltimore was when the Chinatown bus I was taking to one DC protest or punk rock event or another stopped there, usually under a freeway overpass, to let off or pick up a few stragglers. From that vantage point the city looked very much like “The Wire.” I had met some good friends from there who were fiercely loyal and proud of their city. I had heard that it was a great place for artists, but I had never been. So, I went (for work). Here’s what I found:

Art Noveau Awning at Penn Station

Victorian rowhouses with eye catching pop art paint jobs

The ultimate Bloody Mary, topped with Old Bay seasoning, and crab soup at Mama's on the Half Shell

Mama's on the Half Shell, recommended by a Baltimore native!

Weird Baltimore's patron saint John Waters in the window of Killer Trash

Arty Coffee at Spro

Allyways, bright paint, low-rise, historic brick houses

Between work I spent time walking through the Charm City, learning about how the historic neighborhood of Fells Point was saved from demolition for a highway project by community organizing, doing homework in the cafe at MICA and remembering being in college, checking out the Creative Alliance and all the things they have going on, scoured a few choice vintage stores, browsed handmade goods at the Woman’s Industrial Exchange (Etsy invented nothing), picked up a Juliet Greco record at Own Guru Records (where they had a cute store cat), and enjoyed a Belgian style brew at the Brewers Art. If you don’t feel like walking there’s a free bus service that covers downtown called the Charm City Circulator. And I even got “Hon’ed” several times, as in, “Hon, do you know where there’s a sub shop around here?” I did not, but I loved that a. I was called “hon” and b. sandwiches were “subs.” I didn’t even set foot in one museum! Baltimore, I will be back!

Corita Recording Notes

Posted on February 22, 2011 by killerfemme

Recording at Godelstring Studio. Photo by Dominick Mastrangelo.

After two and a half years of being a band Corita finally took the time to go into a proper studio and commit our songs to tape (or digital files, in this case). We were in luck to work with Joel Hamburger at Godelstring studios in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

Concentrating on overdubbing my new part. Photo by Dominick Mastrangelo.

It’s a beautiful, well kept studio that Joel build up himself over 7 years. An incredible engineer (and Physics student) who also plays a producer’s role he knew what we wanted to achieve and made our songs sound like they always have sounded like in our heads. He was relaxed, confident and reassuring, setting up the environment to be as natural as possible so we could relax and concentrate on playing our songs. He also knew the flow of the recording day so well he knew exactly when to suggest we take breaks, get food, and even (towards the end of the first day) have a beer.

First engineer Joel with second engineer Delilah.

I learned a lot being in the studio. I always dreaded recording, thinking about it as a tedious process that was mired in frustration and unhappiness. In Joel’s capable hands it was long, for sure, but immensely satisfying and even fun!I also learned a lot about being a musician. I realized that the more I relaxed the better my playing and singing became. This is not surprising, but important to recognize.

My Guitar at Godelstring.

Recording vocals is always very revealing and at certain moments I began to over think my singing and got progressively depressed about it. That was when it was time for a break. What I realized when we listened to the tracks back was that I was over singing before. In the studio there’s no reason to push your voice over a roaring sound system because you can hear everything.

Aileen's bass chills with the organs.

I realized I was pushing my voice to be too theatrical and it was creating music that I didn’t want to listen to, which is a real problem because I feel like I should always write the music I want to hear in my own band. It was real revelation to realize that in the studio I could relax and let my voice be its own, limited self, and that the songs sounded better that way. That’s a lesson I’ll carry out of the studio and on to the stage.

Aileen and Marisha enjoy their time in the studio.

It was also a very validating experience to spend two full days concentrating on something I create. After six years of working full-time in “the arts” I’ve started to think of myself less of a creative person and more as someone who supports other creative people. Lately I have been telling the artists I work with that I am a writer and musician just to make myself sound more “for real” to them.

Nick tests out the drums in the studio.

Two full days in the studio felt like my very own weekend artists residency and I realized that I have to take this kind of time to take my own work seriously. What I love about my band is that it gives me a focus and there are three other people to push the project along. But after seeing what a weekend can achieve I feel energized and more able to value my own creativity and projects. And that makes me more valuable to the artists I work with as well.

Recording notes. And an egg shaker we didn't end up using.

Killerfemme

Thoughts on feminism, fashion, culture, and community from Eleanor C. Whitney

Author Archives: killerfemme

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Corita Recording Notes