A Journalistic Voice for Comics

The Village Voice’s April 6 edition is a special Comics Issue. Don’t want to get catty, but the New Haven Advocate nailed this same concept around a decade and a half ago, and did it for three years in a row. The brainstorm came from Josh Mamis—then the Advocate’s editor, now Published of the whole New Mass Media chain, and we all jumped in with pens and brushes ablazing.
The main reason we had to stop after three years was that the freelance budget couldn’t cover all those artists—we were at least doubling the amount spent on each story. (The Voice, by ethical contrast, avoided paying some artists altogether, under that old cheapskate scam that it would give them “exposure.”)
It was also a logistical nightmare, having to move up deadlines to allow for original art and intense writer/artist collaborations, while making sure the stories would still be timely when they ran.
We also had hard and fast rules about the way we would do a Comics Issue, considerably more stringent that what the Voice has done this week. We decided that all stories which we could control would have to be rendered in comics form. That basically meant everything except the ads (though we did convince some of the advertisers to join in the fun and do their ads as comics), some of the syndicated columns we ran in the back pages (though we did profusely illustrate News of the Weird) and the listings sections (where we were able to at least turn the coming-events preview text boxes into cartoons). We comicsized the letters section, the movie and theater reviews, the table of contents, everything.
When Malik Jones got shot by an East Haven police officer in 1997, a scandalous tragedy which would become one of the biggest local news events of the decade, the story broke on the weekend before the comics issue went to press. We got Paul Heriot, an artist known for his realistic approach to cartooning (and who had lots of experience drawing policemen, having done T-shirt designs for the state police), and he worked overnight on a gritty and visceral depiction of the shooting to accompany Paul Bass’ text.
Proud of those old issues. I remember distilling a season of Yale Cabaret shows into one multi-panel cartoon, and doing a review of a Yale School of Drama show in the manner of B.C.’s Jonny Hart. I did a review of the British play Love and Understanding (co-starring Paul Bettany, now a movie star) as a perverse “Love Is…” cartoon, and while the director of the piece was not amused, my comic was stuck up on doors and bulletin boards throughout the Long Wharf Theatre.
I also remember people thinking, every year, that we’d lost our minds. Which was kind of true.

Rock Gods #93: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

The Modern Madcaps had their Bullfinch reunion last week and unleashed surprises upon surprises. Two new (that is to say additional) members, on keyboards and violin! An entire album of new songs! And to top it off, a small label deal, with national distribution!

Kollege has been good to the band’s designer friend Harvey who clinched the Madcaps a contract when he began interning for an indie management company as a graphic designer.

But enough commerce—what are the new songs like? The violin is taking on the mournful wails that Tommy Smeth’s guitar used to specialize in, leaving Tommy free to pick up a bass. Former bassist Audrey L. now sings half the songs, while former sole vocalist Moe Tierre concentrates more on electronica tricks.

So new out-of-towner keyboardist Trina Mars (whom Tommy enlisted from HIS college, in a whole other city strangely for drummer Katnip, Trina’s full first name is Katrina) does what exactly? Accents, you could say. Auras, more accurately. Overarching angelic-choir chords. She also produced all the new tracks, and likes to take part in shows so she can collect live samples.

When we ran into Katnip just a kouple of days before this show, he was kharakteristikally klosed-mouthed. Drummer, you know? We just didn’t think much of it. Meanwhile, instead of losing another promising high school band to higher education, we’ve gained a much improved one.

Scary night in clubland; Don’t Lose Your Soul at the Bullfinch: Horse-
Courser, The Ostler and Vanholt & Duchess… At Hamilton’s: Swollen with Cunning, The Wittenbergs and Prologue (thus named, they say, because in 12 years together they’ve never been handed a headlining gig)… Cardinal of Lorraine at Dollaire’s, with Old Man…

In Fashionista

Had a typically fantastic time Sunday afternoon at Fashionista, the vintage clothing adventure at 93 Whitney Ave. in New Haven. Mabel and I were on our way to a party in East Rock, but Fashionista is always some sort of party so we stopped there first.
Mabel had taken an interest in my prized old peace medallion, which I bought in Iowa City, land of my birth, with my own hard-earned allowance, back when I was the same age Mabel is now. (Eight.) It was special moment when we found a peace medallion—a sturdy wooden beaded one—at Fashionista and could get it for her. She also got a flowery dress and pink earrings, while I had a lively conversation with proprietors Nancy and Todd.
We’re not the only ones who see Fashionista as a time travelling, story-laden, colorful and fanciful adventure, of course. Few have captured the appeal of a Fashionista visit more heartily than Bianca Turetsky, who was one of the first Fashionista customers back the store was a hit-and-run one-day-a-month affair, has penned a series of young-adult novels inspired by the shop. The first, titled The Time-Traveling Fashionista, is elegantly illustrated with bright sketches of fabulous outfits. It’s published by the teen-friendly Poppy imprint of the big-deal Hachette Book Group USA.
Fashionista doesn’t need an excuse to have, or be, a party. But having a book based on their shop is a pretty good one. Bianca Turetsky will read from and sign The Time Travelling Fashionista from 2-5 p.m. Sunday, April 10 at Fashionista (corner of Whitney and Trumbull streets, New Haven; 203-777-4434). It’s what everyone’s wearing that day.

Rock Gods #92: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

We regularly show how distinct and predictable the live music joints in our fair city can be. There’s rarely been a more clearcut example than Tuesday. Yes, a Tuesday. At the student lounge of the college on the hill, there are three Neo- bluegrass acts: The Good Old Oldtime New Start (made up of old hippie professors), Gackscrabble and Out With the Wash (made up of their students). It’s some kind of midterm exam for a folklore class… The Bullfinch, meanwhile, hosts the kind of outer indie no other club will touch: Brains size 6 1/4, The Preserving Perversity of Perseverance and As Much as a Pelican… Hamilton’s (also known for cover bands; tune in this weekend) has a midweek mosh of young hardheads: Rank Case of Reason, A Bite of the Remedy, Scandal for School, Tiger Burns Bright, Warpath to Peace, Besson Trust Bust and Early Threat of Promise. (Many bands but short sets, understand)… Finally, at the place we aggressively misspell as Dollaire’s, there’s a blend of low-state rawk and local guitar heroes: Two Shots for the Road, Ahead in the Fridge and Bustle of Muscle.
And what have learned? Weekends have nothing on Tuesdays….

Snappy Patterson

I know why James Patterson’s books have topped the list of “most often checked out from public libraries” for years. I check them out myself, and if I don’t happen to blow through them in a single sitting they languish away at the bedside until they’re due. Then I return them, then often check them out again a few weeks later.
You can devour a Patterson tome in a couple of hours, but putting them down is kind of like having to get up in the middle of an episode of some action-detective TV show. You kind of need to know what happens, but you’re not about to Tivo or bookmark the thing, or even remember the plot after a little while.
I read the first 30 or so chapters of both Cross Fire and Tick Tock on my Kindle for free, then checked them out of the library in tandem. Bad idea—the plots are pretty similar, and I couldn’t keep up with which deranged yet incredibly organized villain was blowing up which New York landmark, or which detective’s romantic involvement was an impending marriage and whose was a new relationship after the death of his wife.

This confusion ain’t ‘cause the books are heavy. It’s ‘cause they’re lite. If I want to get bogged down in technical plot details, I can read Star Wars novels. Patterson’s books are all about the slam-bang. What gets you to the explosions or the car crashes isn’t important. The showdowns are what’s important. Which is why I’ve now checked the latest Patterson, Toys, out of the library, and expect I’ll be checking it out a couple more times. It’s got a crappy sci-fi future-society gimmick at its core, but it really doesn’t matter if I buy into that (and I can’t, I just can’t) because lips will still get locked and guns will still get cocked at an alarming rate.

Rock Gods #91: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

The coffee shop dude known as Jimmy bean—he’s worked at Brewniverse, Hallowed grounds, House With Room, Get Mugged, French Press Gang, Beanie Hat and every other caffeine dispensary in Christendom—is temporarily out of work again. A bunch of us pitched in to buy Bean a few beers at the Bullfinch—collective guilt for the many cups of Java he lent us over the years, which is probably what got him fired. After a few, he blurted out that what he’d really like to do is go into music full time.
Jimmy plays “geetar,” or so he pronounces it. He’s only ever played out at open minds at some of the java joints where he’s worked.
Seemed like a good time to conduct one of our informal inebriated surveys.
What advice would to give a coffeeshop counter man who wants to launch a musical career?
“Drink enough coffee, and the high’s the same as performing.”
“The only guys who make any coin in a lot of bands are the managers and the roadies, so you’ll still be fetching coffee.”
“Buy a coffeeshop, put a stage in the corner, brew up a pot and play all you want.”
“All the good sounds about coffee have already been written.”
“…Yeah, but in Spanish!”
“If I see another washed-up pop star using a coffeeshop as a record store to hawk his fucking comeback album, I’ll poor a cup up his nose!”
“Jimmy Bean can do anything he likes. He must be the midst popular cat in town.”
Jimmy Bean a fresh-brewed pop star? Heck, Jimmy Bean for Mayor!

Spot Sprinkle, Flurry Chance and Tapering at the Bullfinch (rescheduled show from the bad weather in January)… Aging jam band High in Our 30s at Hamilton’s (guess that new “no drug references in band names” policy doesn’t apply to them; well, they’re old, and they’re being grandfathered in) with Party Sunny (featuring Sonny Degrassi)…Guitar legend Strat Nimbus and local pickup band The Four Casters ( who’ ll also do an opening set sans Strat) at Dollaire’s…