Reluctant Reflections Ten Years Later

Posted on September 11, 2011 by killerfemme

Heaven's garden (wishing all peace this weekend)

Islamic tile work representing heaven as a garden at the Brooklyn Museum

I’d prefer not to say anything about today. Earlier this week I filled out the New York Time’s interactive map pinpointing where I was on September 11, 2001 (17 Union Square West in my freshman college dorm) and my reflections 10 years on. I chose “unmoved.” I’m not unmoved in that I don’t feel empathy for those who lost friends and loved ones that day. At the most basic, I wish that today didn’t become a big patriotic hullabaloo. I upsets me that it’s just another chance to put our hands over our hearts and say “God Bless America,” and forget about the rest of the world. I’m tired of how this day was turned into an excuse for war, a grab for power, a justification for racism, and a suppression of human rights and civil liberties in the United States and abroad.

Ten years ago I had arrived in New York an idealistic, moody activist ready for her freshman year at a liberal arts college and ready to fall in love with New York (or at least give the city a chance). September 11th didn’t change that, but it changed my focus. Before the struggle against globalization and the need to undo the injustices of colonialism seemed abstract. September 11th brought them into focus and made me think about the consequences of centuries of oppression. It also made some struggles and concerns pale in comparison.

Lower Manhattan, Early September, 2001

Maybe it’s because I was in Union Square on that morning and I looked downtown and saw the smoke and heard the sirens (and breathed that scorched , chemical laden air for weeks afterwards), and remember the collective gasp that went up when the towers collapsed, but I always felt that September 11th was a tragedy centered in New York.

Ever since that morning I’ve also been both proud of certain responses in this city and ashamed of others. I remember drawing on sidewalks with chalk the night of September 11th 2001, writing, “An eye for an eye makes the world blind.” I remember the huge memorials of candles set up in Union Square. I remember clearly rallies every Saturday at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Sunset Park, Brooklyn (my neighborhood) to demand the release of immigrants detained after 9/11 that were held for months without trial. At the same time, New Yorkers raised huge opposition to bombing Afghanistan and later Iraq. Most people were speaking out against racism, even while immigration authorities were acting on it. I think the New York Time’s op-ed said it best in the piece What New York Didn’t Loose After 9/11. The larger impulse was towards helping those impacted by the tragedy, not towards revenge, but towards community, openness, and reflection. This is a stalwart city, tough, but one that stands up for its own and (in the best of cases) doesn’t discriminate between who is and who is not a New Yorker.

Lower Manhattan, November, 2001

September 11th made me determined to love this city and stick with it through all of the challenges it posed. Ten years later here I am. Today is not one for ceremonies and listening to those in power, and it looks like I’m not alone in this. Today is time for enjoying the life I’ve built here piece by piece, despite the tragedy, despite eight years of the worst president this country has ever known, and despite my own personal roadblocks and frustrations. One of the comments on the New York Times’ map called the past ten years “a lost decade.” I disagree. This decade has been hugely significant to me personally. I went from a teenager to an adult, I struggled, I built my life, and I spoke up, even with such dreary politics and global realities as a backdrop. Today I’ll have brunch with friends, ride my bike along the waterfront and maybe drink a beer brewed right here in Brooklyn. Here’s to you, New York! To your diversity, acceptance, your resilience, and to the people of this city and the world!

Here is New York After 10 Years

Posted on August 31, 2011 by killerfemme

Photo in front of my old apartment taken by Leila Bergougnoux in the fall of 2007.

These scrubbed clean, clear blue skies of late summer and early fall remind me that I moved to New York City ten years ago this week. It’s been quite a decade for New York City and for me personally. I moved here reluctantly to attend college after a dreamy year spent living in Portland, Oregon, working very little and indulging in my creative projects and wallowing in what remained of my teen angst. After growing up in Maine I was dead-set against going to college on a quaint campus and tired of small town life in general. On visits throughout high school to New York City I feel in love. It had it all: art, culture, fashion, food and excitement. It was the polar opposite of where I came from. “Who needs trees?” I said, “The nature in the parks will suit me just fine.”

New York has not ceased to amaze and surprise me, but moving here was not an easy transition. I got sick immediately from the polluted air, the noise from the construction outside of my window seemed to bore into my skull, and then September 11th happened. The events of that day and what followed completely reshaped what I expected from the city, academic, activism, and work. I really can’t talk about 10 years in New York without talking about September 11th and all that came after, but this post really isn’t about September 11th. Let’s suffice it to say this morning the public radio station replayed reporting from that morning and I had to sit down and cry.

I didn’t think I would stay in New York very long after graduation. I decided that I would give it two years after I got my diploma, but when I started working in museums and arts organizations I kept pushing that timeline back, until finally I gave up and decided to stay here. I felt like my friendships and the adult life I’ve been able to construct were too hard won to walk away from. I’ve lived in Sunset Park, Brooklyn since 2002 and slowly the borough worked its charms on me and I feel like it’s an important part of my identity. I also discovered another great thing about New York: its proximity to Europe. Flights to Europe from New York are plentiful and can be cheap if you know how to search.

But looking back over these past ten years I’ve wrote a lot about New York and I wanted to share a little bit of those thoughts to chart how my relationship to the city has changed and evolved.

“You always choose the most challenging position you can think of!” my mother chided me when I moved to New York City to go to college. “Of course you picked the biggest, toughest, most of expensive city in the US, you couldn’t imagine less!” she reminded me when I lamented how difficult my new NYC life was. And it was difficult.

In October of 2002 I wrote, “New York is bad posture and holding my breath. Too many aches and tight, sore shoulders and no one to work them out.”

At the brink of the (still ongoing) war against Iraq in 2003 I wrote, “I need to write something about how it feels to be in New York right now – the subway stations full of national guard, machine guns ready. How is it constricting my thoughts and hopes and playing on my fear?”

But the city still entranced me, “For me the magic of New York isn’t in Manhattan, it’s in the strange faraway feeling places in the outer boroughs that you can still take the subway train to. A collision of urban and beach, crashing waves and a $5 ride on the Wonder Wheel. Vacant lots in gentrified neighborhoods, cracking streets, rusting hunks of abandoned junk, weeds in the middle of poshness. It shows the gaps in the idea of glittery concrete and steel and shows that cities have a force that cannot be regulated.”

Rockaway Beach

Full of Brooklyn pride, I wrote a love letter to Brooklyn for the last issue of my zine Indulgence, which I put out in 2008. “If Brooklyn were not attached to the rest of New York it would still be among the largest cities in the United States. I’ve been living here for six years. That doesn’t make me a local, but it means I have grown to appreciate my borough through all my early-to mid-to late twenties ups and downs. Brooklyn is my immediate reality and my basis of comparison. Brooklyn feels at times just as much like a small town, an industrial landscape, and even, suburban.”

NYC Rainbow, Fall 2007

I think it is E.B. White who describes New York best, so I’m going to leave you with his words. My mother gave me Here is New York for Christmas after I’d been living here for 4 years. I was struck by how this little book, written about New York in the Forites, captures the New York I experience every day.

The opening: “There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter–the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last–the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements.”

And the closing:

“The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes no bigger than a wedge of geese can quickly end this island fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The intimation of mortality is part of New York now; in the sounds of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest editions.

All dwellers in cities must live with the stubborn fact of annihilation; in New York the fact is somewhat more concentrated because of the concentration of the city itself, and because, of all targets, New York has a certain clear priority. In the mind of whatever perverted dreamer might loose the lightning, New York must hold a steady, irresistible charm.”

Thank you, Mr. White. And here’s to another ten years.

Celebrating the end of our Brooklyn Museum internship in 2006 in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden

C’mon Irene

Posted on August 28, 2011 by killerfemme

Here is New York, come hell or high water

Post-Irene skyline view from Sunset Park

So how did I survive New York’s biggest storm in decades? Just fine, thank you. I’m really not one to buy into weather related hype, but I’ll admit as I read the storm reports rolling out on Twitter (yes, this is how I get my up to the minute news these days) I began to get a little jumpy. I spent some time pouring over the map of evacuation zones the Office of Emergency Management put out. I read up on hurricane tips offered by everyone from the mayors office to my electric company. Fortunately, I don’t live in an evacuation zone, but actually on the second highest hill in Brooklyn. My apartment building is a solidly constructed brick building from 1931 that has withstood many a storm. So, I figured, a little rain, a little wind, big deal. In fact, I think the Fucked in Park Slope blog captured my kind of storm prep the best with this entry and chart.

A couple dances in Sunset Park after the storm

Honestly, I think that the NYC government did a pretty decent job of informing everyone. They had a plan, they were organized and they got the word out. I thin they got a little hysterical, sure. I think their move to evacuate all of the Rockaways was a little bit much and that they were making up for their complete lack of planning with this past winter’s big snow storm. But I followed directions, filled up my water bottles and filled the bathtub with water in case we lost electricity and thus water pressure. We never lost electricity. Heck, because my windows are west facing I even kept them open during more of the storm and no rain blew in.

Windowblown clouds after the storm

It was really sweet that all of my far-away friends reached out with their support and well-wishes. New York truly is a global city that many hold in their hearts. Since I moved here 10 years ago (to the week!) I’ve experienced September 11th, several huge blizzards, two tornadoes, and an earth quake (which I didn’t feel). I missed the black out of 2003 because I was in Oregon for the summer. I’ve also experienced so many personal trials and tribulations that come with negotiating life in a huge metropolis. New York is a stalwart city and it passes that on to its residents. To live here and not loose your mind I think you need to develop a sense of resolve, calm and willingness to be ready for anything.

Corita Rocks the Office

Posted on August 18, 2011 by killerfemme

Guitar + Work = Rock

I was so thrilled when Jason, the filmmaker behind the webseries “All New York’s a Venue” approached Corita about featuring us in his project. His videos feature indie bands playing songs in atypical locations, often quite unfit for a musical performance. The best part about the videos, I think, is that they are not music videos per se. They are not overly staged. They are just a live performance in an unconventional location.

My band Corita posed a challenge, however. We can’t play acoustic. I don’t want to sound snobby, but our songs rely on reverb, delay and a little bit of distortion (see, we’re a bit shoegaze). This does not work on an acoustic guitar, so playing on the subway or down by the Gowanus canal (our favorite NYC polluted waterway) was not an option. We needed somewhere to plug in.

Then I came up with an idea. My workplace is incredibly supportive of artists. That’s our business. We also have an airy, light-filled loft in DUMBO. Considering we had a feminist tea party come and set up shop in the office for a week I thought, well, why not a band? The organization was only too happy to agree, as long as we did it on a Saturday when the office was empty and kept the noise to a minimum.

It was really funny, and strange, to load all our gear into my office and play our songs about disenchantment, growing older, and looking at the sky in the middle of the file boxes and computers I see everyday. But that is part of the fun of the project. The incongruous nature of the music and the location. I hope you enjoy watching the results!

All New York’s a Venue #6: Corita – “Act So Fake” from Jason Hood on Vimeo.

All New York’s a Venue #6: Corita – “Clouds” from Jason Hood on Vimeo.

Hot times, summer in the city

Posted on July 6, 2011 by killerfemme

XO Shirt, BCBG Skirt (from Housing Works!), Dolce Vita shoes. Shirt bought at Alter in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

It is stating the obvious to say it gets hot in New York City in the summer. Of course it does and it’s really not that interesting to talk about it. However, when I was in college I used to avoid the city in the summer for exactly this reason. I would pack up my bags, sublet my room, and decamp to Portland, Oregon for the summer. As a result I missed the worst of the summer heat and refused to wear, or understand why anyone would wear, sandals or opened toed shoes of any kind in the city. I told my friend L.J., “That’s gross, your feet turn black, no thank you.” A lifelong New Yorker she looked at me incredulously and said, “Have you ever been on a subway platform in August?”

Now that I don’t have the luxury of extensive time off during the summer I’ve learned to embrace NYC’s sweaty pleasures like free outdoor movies and concerts, as well as good, strong air conditioning in most stores and my place of employment. Here’s a few workaday outfits, and one for weekend fun, enjoy!

etite Bateau tank top, Brooklyn Industries skirt, Dolce Vita shoes, silk scarf from Cambodia, Melville House tote

BB Dakota dress, Vintage LL Bean leather tote, Cole Haan shoes (so nautical, no?). Taken with Instagram.

H & M tank, A. Cheng skirt, Espdrilles from Paris, Les Compasantes bag. All 2006 or before, except the bag! Taken with Instagram.

Scarf: Brooklyn Industries, t-shirt:J Crew, Jeans: Madewell, Shoes: Vans, Belt: vintage. And a Ricard, bien sur!

I bought this cute floral belt on the way to the rainy pre-fourth of July backyard party I was headed to. I found it at one of my favorite vintage shops, actually probably the only vintage shop I bother to go into, in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It’s called Seven Wonders Vintage, it’s run by a lovely young lady and you should visit.

Being a blogger having been a zinester wanting to become a writer

Posted on June 1, 2011 by killerfemme

The other week I went to the Brooklyn Bloggers meetup at the Bell House with my friend Laura of the blog Eating the Beats. It was my first time going to an event consciously as a “blogger,” and despite having written on Killerfemme for the past few years I’ve been hesitant to really identify as being a blogger versus simply being a person who has a blog. All told, the Brooklyn Blog meetup was fun. I talked to bloggers who write about New York nachos, tech and gadgets from a girl’s perspective, writers for Broeklyn, and a brave young woman who writes about being broke and navigating New York’s dating scene. It was nice to hear people’s interesting ideas and find out about how they are crafting their blogs. However, I also feel like I’ve come to blogging too late to really get into it without seeing the bold commercialism that is behind so many blogs now. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but blogs are often seen as a means to another end, which is fine, if that’s your goal. While I too would love a book contract and/or a regular byline, I don’t necessarily think my personal blog will be my ticket to my dreams as a writer.

Mostly I feel like I haven’t found my blogging “community” yet. Perhaps it’s because of the vastness of the blogosphere (if we can even call it that anymore), but I don’t feel like I’ve found bloggers who share my ideas, values and aesthetics. In fact, most of the blogs I read are in French. While I thoroughly enjoy those blogs, it’s hard to connect with those writers when I write in a different language, even if I comment on their entries en francais.

This made me think back to when I started making my personal zine Induglence in 1998. When I first encountered zines I knew immediately that I would make one myself. The concept of publishing one’s own personal writing made sense to me innately, especially as a teenager, because I knew that I could not expect anyone else to publish my work. Perhaps because I knew exactly the kind of writers I wanted to connect with—I would describe them loosely as young feminists interested in art, queer politics, and music—it was easier for me to immerse myself in the zine community. I felt like over the course of two or so years I was able to build up an audience for my zine and also a network of close friends, penpals and fellow zinesters that I felt I shared something in common with. My connection to and beleif in the power of the zine network extended into helping found the Portland Zine Symposium in 2001. It continues to resonate into my adult life because some of my closest friends (and neighbors) are women I met through zines over 10 years ago.

Perhaps its because I have close friends now that I don’t feel the same urgency to seek out people to connect with through blogs. However, I also feel like I am writing in a vacuum, and some days that makes me wonder if I should even continue to bother with this blog. Keeping a blog (and keeping it up more regularly and diligently) has reminded me about the whole reason I started making zines and keeping a blog to begin with: to write. Being a writer has been my dream ever since I was a little girl and it is something I am determined to make a reality in my thirties. I know it’s harder now than ever to distinguish oneself, one’s voice, one’s ideas, and one’s blog (especially if I don’t have hundreds of dollars and hours to sink into the design and hosting of it), but I also feel like its much easier for me to find opportunities to publish and connect with wider audiences nowadays. For me, I feel like blogging and writing for other web-based publications holds a lot of promise. We’ll see what the future will bring.

Hopefully in the next decade I'll be able to write a better novel than Ida the cat.

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 Short Walk Through Gowanus

Posted on November 14, 2010 by killerfemme

Gowanus, Brooklyn, is a really special neighborhood. It’s been described succinctly as a “working class bridge between Carroll Gardens and Park Slope,” and is infamous for it’s putrid canal (which is slowly getting cleaned up and has been designated a Superfund site). It’s even been memorialized in a painting by Randy Dudly, which is on view at the Brooklyn Museum (and is one of my favorites). The neighborhood is becoming less industrialized, though a few local industries still hang on, and more filled up with artists needing studio and musicians needing practice spaces. In the last few years the very popular club the Bell House has opened up on 7th street, as well as a sprinkling of restaurants along 3rd avenue. Band practice takes me to Gowanus on a weekly basis and I’ve decided to share some of my favorite sites along 9th street. To follow on this short walk just get off at the Smith and 9th subway stop (at 88 feet high the tallest in the system) and walk east on 9th street.

Polkadot Cement Mixer

The first thing I always notice when I get off the subway or ride my bike by are these polkadot covered cement trucks. I love the whimsy they bring to heavy industry! Aileen told me she remembered seeing them around NYC as a kid. Does anyone know the story?

Gowanus Icon

After crossing the canal (unless you had to wait because the draw bridge was up) make sure you look up to see the famous Kentile Floors sign. Along this route you’ll encounter Find Home Furnishings for things unique and old and dear, and also Lowes, for daily home goods that are not so special.

Brooklyn Hot Dogs

Further along you’ll pass this other great, and less celebrated, example of Gowanus signage. I don’t know what this place is. It has never been open in all the years I’ve been walking by and why is there awkward, extra space at the end?

Bar Tano, my favorite recent addition to the neighborhood

Don’t let the signs distract you too much though, because all good walks along 9th street include a pause at Bar Tano, a bar and eatery with an Italian slant. With cocktails like the basil infused “Gowanus” and tequila concoction “Flats Fixed” (inspired by a tire shop across the street) Bar Tano brings the feel of a European cafe to gritty 3rd avenue. Their pizza and bruschetta is also becoming a bit of an obsession for me.

The inviting bar at Bar Tano

I admit I was really surprised the first time I walked by and saw that such a sleek looking join had opened up on 9th street, but a few years on I feel it’s integrated into the landscape and I’m glad it’s there. Newer newcomers (and honorable mentions) include pie mavens Four and Twenty Blackbirds and Lowlands Bar. While these might speak to the upcoming (but not yet taken hold) complete yuppification of Gowanus, I’ll admit it’s nice to see good establishments operated by nice people opening up in South Brooklyn.