See correction and note on the presenting artists per the comments.-Adam 9/9/11
MEGA Opening and Dance Party at Goldilock's Gallery
Friday, September 2nd
By Emily Currier
In the warehouse space formerly housing the non-profit Basekamp, Goldilock's Gallery has opened up its glass door to the public this past Friday night, September 2nd. Oddly situated above the fancy pants restaurant Morimoto, the space is a sprawling warehouse that could promise to house interesting exhibits. Another perk of their location situates the gallery several blocks from Old City and its First Friday fare, creating an easy pool of exhibit attendees- if Goldilocks can get its act together.
As a new venue, Goldilock's Gallery will benefit from establishing a unique identity in the gallery and music venue soaked city of Philadelphia. Though it vaguely draws its name from both a fairy tale and an astronomical term, Goldilocks doesn’t feature any obvious allusions to either. Instead, the space is still crawling out of the ashes of the estranged non-profit Basekamp and struggling with organization along the way.
For their first official gallery opening, Goldilocks advertised the start time as 7pm on Facebook and as 8pm on their flyers. In the past, events at the space haven’t started up until 10pm, to avoid disturbing the neighbors, which seemed to discourage any early birds. The lack of attendees turned out to be a mixed blessing, though, as there was construction, complete with loud drilling noise and loose nails, happening in the space’s shop area until around 9:30pm. The first show featured work by a few of Goldilocks’ resident artists and was also primarily attended by the residents.
The event started to pick up around 10pm with a mixture of 20somethings touting their own six packs and wine bottles. Around 11pm, DJ Osagie started playing soul, funk, and rock vinyl for the sparsely populated dance floor. Many party attendees still milled around the exhibit space or poked their noises into residents’ studios. The majority of the party, though, ended up on the space’s expansive roof to enjoy a cigarette, the scenic view, and fresh night air. For a new space, Goldilocks relied on the 20something residents bringing in friends to the event, though they’ll have to put more effort than that to sustain themselves in the Philadelphia art scene.
Emily Currier
http://twitter.com/chimneytulip
http://culturemob.com/blog/philadelphia
Showing posts with label Emily Currier. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emily Currier. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Movie Monday at the Troc August 22 - Beavis and Butthead Do America
Movie Mondays at The Troc, Monday August 22
“Beavis and Butthead Do America”
by Emily Currier
Being a girly girl during my adolescence, I missed out on the whole phenomenon of “Beavis and Butthead” (I eventually got on board with the spin-off of “Daria”). But when a friend invited me out on a Monday night for a $3 big-screen movie, I felt I couldn’t resist. We made sure to show up before 7pm to make those three dollars really count- for the movie, a free beer and popcorn, and towards $3 at the bar. Basically, the night turned into a cheap drunk.
Armed with our free beers and popcorn, Jon and I took a seat in the small bar area upstairs at The Troc. There was some sort of delay on the movie, so they kept the early birds satiated by showing episodes of “Beavis and Butthead” on the TVs in the bar. With our spot right next to the blaring speakers, our attempts at conversation were drowned out by early ‘90s punk music videos and punctuated chuckling. So, instead of dwelling on catching up with an old college friend, we continued to drink PBRs. Being clever, poor, and an alcoholic, I figured out we could pool together our $3 tokens towards a $10 bucket of four PBRs. Three beers for $2, not bad, Troc.
A slow stream of tattooed punk types filtered into the bar and added their chatter to the deafening noises of Beavis and Butthead’s nasal dialogue. Instead of seeming like an atypical event, Movie Mondays at the Troc are an apparent regulars’ hang out, regardless of the movie playing. The bar was packed by the time the doors to the big screen were finally opened up around 8:15. The movie screen drops down the Troc’s main stage and audience members sit on cushioned rows in the balcony. Unlike in expensive, stifled (and sober) movie theaters, audience members were loosened up to laugh out loud and hoot-n-holler along with the movie. The stupid, stupid movie.
Emily Currier
“Beavis and Butthead Do America”
by Emily Currier
Being a girly girl during my adolescence, I missed out on the whole phenomenon of “Beavis and Butthead” (I eventually got on board with the spin-off of “Daria”). But when a friend invited me out on a Monday night for a $3 big-screen movie, I felt I couldn’t resist. We made sure to show up before 7pm to make those three dollars really count- for the movie, a free beer and popcorn, and towards $3 at the bar. Basically, the night turned into a cheap drunk.
Armed with our free beers and popcorn, Jon and I took a seat in the small bar area upstairs at The Troc. There was some sort of delay on the movie, so they kept the early birds satiated by showing episodes of “Beavis and Butthead” on the TVs in the bar. With our spot right next to the blaring speakers, our attempts at conversation were drowned out by early ‘90s punk music videos and punctuated chuckling. So, instead of dwelling on catching up with an old college friend, we continued to drink PBRs. Being clever, poor, and an alcoholic, I figured out we could pool together our $3 tokens towards a $10 bucket of four PBRs. Three beers for $2, not bad, Troc.
A slow stream of tattooed punk types filtered into the bar and added their chatter to the deafening noises of Beavis and Butthead’s nasal dialogue. Instead of seeming like an atypical event, Movie Mondays at the Troc are an apparent regulars’ hang out, regardless of the movie playing. The bar was packed by the time the doors to the big screen were finally opened up around 8:15. The movie screen drops down the Troc’s main stage and audience members sit on cushioned rows in the balcony. Unlike in expensive, stifled (and sober) movie theaters, audience members were loosened up to laugh out loud and hoot-n-holler along with the movie. The stupid, stupid movie.
Emily Currier
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Benefit Show at L’Etage Sunday July 24
Benefit Show at L’Etage
Featuring The Tough Shits and DJ Opal Rock
Sunday July 24th, 2011
Report By: Emily Currier
It’s always sweet when hipsters come out to support one of their own, sweet and usually a lot of fun. On Sunday night at L’Etage, a benefit show was thrown for a Creperie Beaumonde’s (on which L’Etage piggybacks) waitress who was involved in a hit-and-run on her bicycle. For a reasonable $5 donation at the door, guests were given access to a silent auction, a show by The Tough Shits, and DJ Opal playing late into the night. Based on the crowd that came out, hopefully a lot of money was raised to help pay off the waitress’s medical bills.
While the Facebook invite said the event kicked off at 7:30pm, those in the know didn’t meander in until around 9:30pm. For us early birds (suckers), we had plenty of time to peruse the silent auction before The Tough Shit’s set at 10pm. The silent auction, something I haven’t been treated to since elementary school, featured very generous gift certificates and goodies from local businesses including Philly Aids Thrift and the folks behind those cute plant terrariums. For a buck guests could also purchase a raffle ticket for a chance to win a painting by a local artist.
There were a few stray people in attendance, but in general the attendees were comprised of friends of the waitress and/ or fans of band. The crowd was in uniform by sex: the boys with tattoo sleeves and the girls in summer dresses and chunky heels. The boys were somewhat at odds with the classy, dimly lit décor of L’Etage but they didn’t seem to notice. I’ve had run-ins with this clique at a number of events but still don’t feel accepted into the fold; when my friends abandoned me for a smoke, I sat at the bar nursing my drink and making occasional awkward eye contact with the band members.
The music is worth the awkward wait, though. The Tough Shits always put on a high energy, really fun show. When asked to describe their music, my friend said “fun times Rock n’ Roll,” a completely accurate description. When he didn’t have a guitar in his hand, the lead singer jumped around the stage, kicked up his heels, wandered into the audience, and took swigs of beer. The music was reminiscent of pioneer rock without feeling stale, instead the band members pumped energy into every short, loud song. Their short set ended with the lead singer carrying the lead guitarist into the audience on his shoulders- and he still managed to sing. They’re not called The Tough Shits for nothin’.
Emily Currier
Featuring The Tough Shits and DJ Opal Rock
Sunday July 24th, 2011
Report By: Emily Currier
It’s always sweet when hipsters come out to support one of their own, sweet and usually a lot of fun. On Sunday night at L’Etage, a benefit show was thrown for a Creperie Beaumonde’s (on which L’Etage piggybacks) waitress who was involved in a hit-and-run on her bicycle. For a reasonable $5 donation at the door, guests were given access to a silent auction, a show by The Tough Shits, and DJ Opal playing late into the night. Based on the crowd that came out, hopefully a lot of money was raised to help pay off the waitress’s medical bills.
While the Facebook invite said the event kicked off at 7:30pm, those in the know didn’t meander in until around 9:30pm. For us early birds (suckers), we had plenty of time to peruse the silent auction before The Tough Shit’s set at 10pm. The silent auction, something I haven’t been treated to since elementary school, featured very generous gift certificates and goodies from local businesses including Philly Aids Thrift and the folks behind those cute plant terrariums. For a buck guests could also purchase a raffle ticket for a chance to win a painting by a local artist.
There were a few stray people in attendance, but in general the attendees were comprised of friends of the waitress and/ or fans of band. The crowd was in uniform by sex: the boys with tattoo sleeves and the girls in summer dresses and chunky heels. The boys were somewhat at odds with the classy, dimly lit décor of L’Etage but they didn’t seem to notice. I’ve had run-ins with this clique at a number of events but still don’t feel accepted into the fold; when my friends abandoned me for a smoke, I sat at the bar nursing my drink and making occasional awkward eye contact with the band members.
The music is worth the awkward wait, though. The Tough Shits always put on a high energy, really fun show. When asked to describe their music, my friend said “fun times Rock n’ Roll,” a completely accurate description. When he didn’t have a guitar in his hand, the lead singer jumped around the stage, kicked up his heels, wandered into the audience, and took swigs of beer. The music was reminiscent of pioneer rock without feeling stale, instead the band members pumped energy into every short, loud song. Their short set ended with the lead singer carrying the lead guitarist into the audience on his shoulders- and he still managed to sing. They’re not called The Tough Shits for nothin’.
Emily Currier
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Solo Doctor Zero Show Copabanana South Street July 12
The latest exciting report from writer Emily Currier, about a hot night on South Street -Adam
Solo Doctor Zero Show at Copabanana South Street, Tuesday July 12
Report By: Emily Currier
Even on a sweltering hot Tuesday night in July, South Street’s cheap drink specials and interesting people watching are able to draw a modest (yet scantily-clad) crowd. Without having to contend with hordes of Jersey tweens, even locals make an appearance on the “so over” street, as attested to by the turn out at Tuesday’s Solo Doctor Zero Show at Copabanana.
Despite the stifling heat and unusual venue, rock band Solo Doctor Zero and their guests attracted a large group of people who clustered in one of the Copabanana’s second floor’s three rooms (who knew?). The lure of a free show was clearly not the only factor in the turn out, as most of the audience seemed to be friends or acquaintances of the performers.
Sponsored by the Community Cultural Exchange, the night’s billing was the diverse collection of Stiofan Moriarity, Lora Bloom of Radio Eris, the band Invincible, along with the headliners. In addition to enjoying live music, the audience was supplied with paper, crayons, markers, and even Cray-Pas to add their own contribution of art to the night (being unable to find a pen, I scrawled my notes about the show in giant red Crayola).
As my friend sucked down the last of her Pina Colada, we missed the opening act and walked in during a spoken word performance (possibly by Lora Bloom?). The performer spoke of insanity and sex, topics that lacked the hoped-for shock value in a bar filled with tattooed locals. Solo Doctor Zero came on as a tall, thin woman with green and pink hair backed by three older men. With the woman churning out a dark bass line, the other bandmates kept up the energy. Occasionally the music sounded overly muddy but with a crowd of people out for a good time on a Tuesday, Solo Doctor Zero was easily forgiven.
Emily Currier
Solo Doctor Zero Show at Copabanana South Street, Tuesday July 12
Report By: Emily Currier
Even on a sweltering hot Tuesday night in July, South Street’s cheap drink specials and interesting people watching are able to draw a modest (yet scantily-clad) crowd. Without having to contend with hordes of Jersey tweens, even locals make an appearance on the “so over” street, as attested to by the turn out at Tuesday’s Solo Doctor Zero Show at Copabanana.
Despite the stifling heat and unusual venue, rock band Solo Doctor Zero and their guests attracted a large group of people who clustered in one of the Copabanana’s second floor’s three rooms (who knew?). The lure of a free show was clearly not the only factor in the turn out, as most of the audience seemed to be friends or acquaintances of the performers.
Sponsored by the Community Cultural Exchange, the night’s billing was the diverse collection of Stiofan Moriarity, Lora Bloom of Radio Eris, the band Invincible, along with the headliners. In addition to enjoying live music, the audience was supplied with paper, crayons, markers, and even Cray-Pas to add their own contribution of art to the night (being unable to find a pen, I scrawled my notes about the show in giant red Crayola).
As my friend sucked down the last of her Pina Colada, we missed the opening act and walked in during a spoken word performance (possibly by Lora Bloom?). The performer spoke of insanity and sex, topics that lacked the hoped-for shock value in a bar filled with tattooed locals. Solo Doctor Zero came on as a tall, thin woman with green and pink hair backed by three older men. With the woman churning out a dark bass line, the other bandmates kept up the energy. Occasionally the music sounded overly muddy but with a crowd of people out for a good time on a Tuesday, Solo Doctor Zero was easily forgiven.
Emily Currier
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
JR's Bar featuring The Biters, The Booze, The Midnight Beat, and Mean Streets
And now the latest report from Emily Currier from last weekend.
The Biters, The Booze, The Midnight Beat, and Mean Streets
JR’s Bar on Saturday May 28th
Report By: Emily Currier
In the removed nook of deep south Philly, JR’s Bar is known by some as “that venue across from a Goodwill” but those in the know can rely on it for gritty punk shows. Through a duct-taped door in two pieces then another door with roughly seven deadbolts, you find your way into the small, smoky interior of JR’s. Considering the bar’s location and ownership, it was surprising that there was nothing even vaguely Italian about the décor, music selection, available beer, etc etc. Instead, JR’s is a dive bar like any other, supplying particularly cheap beer and crowded with the Philly punk scene.
Being naive and grappling with the onset of a summer cold, I showed up at JR’s around 8:45 pm, hoping against hope the estimated 8 – 11pm show times promised by Facebook were correct. Predictably I suppose, this wasn’t the case. My cold prevented me from enjoying the ability to smoke inside and the $2 Lionshead and PBR as much as I would’ve liked to. The bouncer gather the $5 cover around 9pm and the first band, Mean Streets, didn’t start up until around 9:30pm. In the meantime, Top 40 hits blared through the speakers, unaware of their surroundings.
The tattooed crowd remained subdued during the Mean Streets’ power pop set. A trio from Philly and Jersey, Mean Streets elongated fast-paced punk chords across five-minute songs. By frequently drawing out the end of one song straight into the next, Mean Streets created a surprisingly cohesive punk set. Self described as “the only garage punk band left in Philly,” The Midnight Beat continued to rep the Philly punk scene. With a more muscular sound, The Midnight Beat, like Mean Streets, performed energetic, almost playful punk. With a crowd that could easily take itself way to seriously, the night’s tone was of fun over pretense.
The friend I went with, who somehow knows everyone there is to know in Philly, tried to convince me to stay, promising a killer after-party at her place. I decided, though, that having a nose like a dripping faucet might not be the best look for winning over the mod Booze and Biters crowd so I was inclined to dip out early, unfortunately. I know The Booze and The Biters, up from Atlanta, put on a hell of a show, so I’ll keep my ears out for their future visits.
Emily Currier
http://twitter.com/chimneytulip
http://culturemob.com/blog/philadelphia
---
EUJMXE64AASR
The Biters, The Booze, The Midnight Beat, and Mean Streets
JR’s Bar on Saturday May 28th
Report By: Emily Currier
In the removed nook of deep south Philly, JR’s Bar is known by some as “that venue across from a Goodwill” but those in the know can rely on it for gritty punk shows. Through a duct-taped door in two pieces then another door with roughly seven deadbolts, you find your way into the small, smoky interior of JR’s. Considering the bar’s location and ownership, it was surprising that there was nothing even vaguely Italian about the décor, music selection, available beer, etc etc. Instead, JR’s is a dive bar like any other, supplying particularly cheap beer and crowded with the Philly punk scene.
Being naive and grappling with the onset of a summer cold, I showed up at JR’s around 8:45 pm, hoping against hope the estimated 8 – 11pm show times promised by Facebook were correct. Predictably I suppose, this wasn’t the case. My cold prevented me from enjoying the ability to smoke inside and the $2 Lionshead and PBR as much as I would’ve liked to. The bouncer gather the $5 cover around 9pm and the first band, Mean Streets, didn’t start up until around 9:30pm. In the meantime, Top 40 hits blared through the speakers, unaware of their surroundings.
The tattooed crowd remained subdued during the Mean Streets’ power pop set. A trio from Philly and Jersey, Mean Streets elongated fast-paced punk chords across five-minute songs. By frequently drawing out the end of one song straight into the next, Mean Streets created a surprisingly cohesive punk set. Self described as “the only garage punk band left in Philly,” The Midnight Beat continued to rep the Philly punk scene. With a more muscular sound, The Midnight Beat, like Mean Streets, performed energetic, almost playful punk. With a crowd that could easily take itself way to seriously, the night’s tone was of fun over pretense.
The friend I went with, who somehow knows everyone there is to know in Philly, tried to convince me to stay, promising a killer after-party at her place. I decided, though, that having a nose like a dripping faucet might not be the best look for winning over the mod Booze and Biters crowd so I was inclined to dip out early, unfortunately. I know The Booze and The Biters, up from Atlanta, put on a hell of a show, so I’ll keep my ears out for their future visits.
Emily Currier
http://twitter.com/chimneytulip
http://culturemob.com/blog/philadelphia
---
EUJMXE64AASR
Monday, May 23, 2011
Elena's The Gender Sticker Film Preview and Dance Party
I am happy to report that the behind-the-scenes work here at Fifty Star Owl is starting to show fruit. From West Philadelphia, Emily Currier brings this report about a dance party held at Elena's Soul Lounge this past Saturday.-Adam
Gender Sticker Film Project Preview and Dance Party
Saturday May 21st at Elena's Soul Lounge
Report By: Emily Currier
Approaching Elena's, I'm afraid I've mixed up the location of RAGE's dance party. Well-dressed neighborhood patrons linger outside the bar smoking cigarettes and the slow throb of soul can be heard through the front window. A burly bouncer checks my I.D then immediately informs me that the dance party is on the second floor. I obviously looked a little out-of-place compared to the regulars dining on seafood, who watched me as I squeezed my way through the crowd to the stairs.
Members of RAGE, Riders Against Gender Exclusion, stand at the top of the stairs taking suggested donations that go towards their cause of removing the gender stickers on SEPTA trans passes. By the time I've arrived, I already missed the preview showing of the 'Gender Sticker Film Project,' which highlights RAGE's activism efforts against what they view as gender exclusion. With the good deeds out of the way, guests are left to engage in drunken dance floor debauchery.
Roughly 40 people are crammed onto the sweaty dance floor, dancing to the offerings of Djs DuiJi 13 and precolumbian. The music was surprisingly mainstream: the typical Lady GaGa, rap songs, 80s mash-ups heard in just about any club on a Saturday night. There was a decided lack of grinding, thankfully, with most people so hammered at that point they were content to fling their limbs about and call it dancing- an activity I participated in with a lot of gusto and a stomach full of a mixture of white wine, PBR, and an unfortunate whiskey shot.
The crowd was a laid-back West Philly hippie group, though, that made you feel comfortable to brush off dance moves like the lawnmower and fishing pole. It seemed like a tight-knit group of, according to the Facebook invite, “transgender/ genderqueer activists.” Everyone, even the upscale patrons downstairs, seemed content to live and let live- androgynous couples happily smooching on the dance floor, guys unironically wearing women's shirts, and a vast variety of glitter and animal prints.
I wasn't on the dance floor very long, though, before I already felt like I was dripping in sweat. When I stepped outside for fresh air, I unfortunately realized the window of opportunity for catching a trolley was dwindling and I already had to leave. A fairly tame night, at least for someone removed from the drama of the West Philly inner circle, I still enjoyed a chance to unabashedly dance to Top 40 hits and not worry about being looked down on.
--
Emily Currier
http://twitter.com/chimneytulip
http://culturemob.com/blog/philadelphia
Gender Sticker Film Project Preview and Dance Party
Saturday May 21st at Elena's Soul Lounge
Report By: Emily Currier
Approaching Elena's, I'm afraid I've mixed up the location of RAGE's dance party. Well-dressed neighborhood patrons linger outside the bar smoking cigarettes and the slow throb of soul can be heard through the front window. A burly bouncer checks my I.D then immediately informs me that the dance party is on the second floor. I obviously looked a little out-of-place compared to the regulars dining on seafood, who watched me as I squeezed my way through the crowd to the stairs.
Members of RAGE, Riders Against Gender Exclusion, stand at the top of the stairs taking suggested donations that go towards their cause of removing the gender stickers on SEPTA trans passes. By the time I've arrived, I already missed the preview showing of the 'Gender Sticker Film Project,' which highlights RAGE's activism efforts against what they view as gender exclusion. With the good deeds out of the way, guests are left to engage in drunken dance floor debauchery.
Roughly 40 people are crammed onto the sweaty dance floor, dancing to the offerings of Djs DuiJi 13 and precolumbian. The music was surprisingly mainstream: the typical Lady GaGa, rap songs, 80s mash-ups heard in just about any club on a Saturday night. There was a decided lack of grinding, thankfully, with most people so hammered at that point they were content to fling their limbs about and call it dancing- an activity I participated in with a lot of gusto and a stomach full of a mixture of white wine, PBR, and an unfortunate whiskey shot.
The crowd was a laid-back West Philly hippie group, though, that made you feel comfortable to brush off dance moves like the lawnmower and fishing pole. It seemed like a tight-knit group of, according to the Facebook invite, “transgender/ genderqueer activists.” Everyone, even the upscale patrons downstairs, seemed content to live and let live- androgynous couples happily smooching on the dance floor, guys unironically wearing women's shirts, and a vast variety of glitter and animal prints.
I wasn't on the dance floor very long, though, before I already felt like I was dripping in sweat. When I stepped outside for fresh air, I unfortunately realized the window of opportunity for catching a trolley was dwindling and I already had to leave. A fairly tame night, at least for someone removed from the drama of the West Philly inner circle, I still enjoyed a chance to unabashedly dance to Top 40 hits and not worry about being looked down on.
--
Emily Currier
http://twitter.com/chimneytulip
http://culturemob.com/blog/philadelphia
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