I am heading out to Reno tomorrow, where I promise not to shoot a man just to watch him die. But with travelling on my mind, this week I have you biking to Bushwick for a couple of shows, and on the G train Saturday heading to some modern stride jazz piano at an outdoor dance party in Prospect Park.
Thanks to Sonya P. who wrote up some of her own recommendations for part of this post.
One more side effect of North Brooklyn’s rapidly mutating scene is the ramping up of “I was here when…” memories, which are arriving in shorter and tighter cycles. This means that the new, old neighborhoods are now garnering nostalgia with stories from recent history. And, photographs are a trusted way to collect these stories—”Take a picture. It will last longer.”
Two photography exhibitions on view now, Mara Catalán’s “A Place I Once Called Home: Williamsburg” at Picture Farm Productions & Sara Maria Salamone’s “From Ash To Apollo” at GCA Salon, appropriately locate and illustrate newer recollections of these moments. Continue reading →
“Oooh, what’s 603?”, you ask. Well, it’s absolutely not The Silent Barn; let’s just get that straight right now. 603 Bushwick Avenue is the fun house that is the collective of apartments directly above The Silent Barn. And, from noon on May 2nd to noon the next day, 603 served as the venue for a 24-hour endurance live music/reading/fundraising/karaoke/yoga/baptism/food and book drive event. I’m sure I’m missing a few forward slashes, too. Funds were raised for The Justice Committee and the Maryland Food Bank.
Overall, it was one of the most friendly, creative, optimistic, life-embracing, and least pretentious events that I’ve attended in a city that far too often leans toward the cynical or jaded. No corner of the residence was left a blank canvas. To be honest, it was so warm and fuzzy that I didn’t quite know how to handle it. Anyway, I’ll let the pictures paint the rest of the picture. Continue reading →
With her hair pulled back, dressed in a spaghetti-strap deep plunge little black dress, a double strand of pearls, and a shimmering vintage ring-to-wrist bracelet, Sweet Megg looks like she is visiting us from the Prohibition era that shapes her music. Her voice envelops the room and invokes that same decadent, idealistic atmosphere as she and her Wayfarers perform (Up) a Lazy River to a buzzing audience at the Top of the Standard on a Saturday night.
Sim Ross is one of those guys who says the f-expletive for every possible expression of his temperament. Pissed. Happy. Mistaken. Excited. Wishing you a happy birthday. F-expletive. His Instagram handle is @simfuckingross. Dressed in tight black jeans, a navy chambray button up, and black boots, he reminds me of Jason Isbell, except with a beard and more tattoos, inked at a spot he used to hang around in his hometown of Cleveland. His band, Sim Ross & the Redemption, creates weighty, whole-souled, roots rock, Americana inspired music. I catch their set at the Pine Box Rock Shop in Bushwick. Continue reading →
Seven out of eight rockers agree: “kids are the new rock,” said Collin Cogan, drummer of Washington, DC-based band, The NRIs, as we ate spinach dumplings and jalapeño poppers at Koda in Bushwick. The NRIs were on a mini-tour promoting their album “Playground/The Charm,” a folk-rock record exploring themes of permanence. Their show at the Pine Box Rock Shop on Saturday night was their first set outside of the DC metro area – ever – and they left behind a brood. Between the eight members of the band, they have seven kids and two of the band members are expecting. Cogan’s wife is pregnant with a girl. Continue reading →
On a cold day in March, the snow is already coming down thick when I emerge from the subway at the Montrose L stop in Bushwick. Somewhere near here, there is a rooftop greenhouse named Edenworks, and its three co-founders—Jason Green, Ben Silverman, and Matt La Rosa—have it up and running as a modular aquaponics laboratory-farm.
By the time I find the metal doorway of 234 Johnson Avenue, my shoes are soaked. A sign directs me a few feet down to another door that is abutted by a high gate on one side. I ring the doorbell and wait a few seconds before Jason arrives with a coffee mug in hand. He is wearing glasses, a thick sweater, and a big smile. We are standing in the middle of a snowstorm. “Aren’t you cold?” I ask. “I’m okay,” Jason says. “I have layers.” Continue reading →
Barbara Alcazar and Christina Hiatt weave magic: the friends are talented stylists at Self Salon and run Alchemy Cosmetics, a luxe lipstick brand. North Brooklyn certainly has its share of stylish people and off beat boutiques for clothes and jewels. But, there’s something missing: makeup. Alchemy reflects a Brooklyn girl’s sensibilities: a little mysterious, a little decadence, and some grit.
The lipsticks are sassy and provocative — a perfect addition to any Greenpoint gal’s arsenal. The lipsticks are $18 and for less than twenty bucks, you can be a Chelsea girl or a dark vamp. Even sweeter, Barbara and Christina dish great tips below on haircuts, lip shades, and how to have fun in your own beauty ventures.