It’s great to see a new gallery rising up from the ashes, so to speak, like a Phoneix, to fill up the empty gallery space left after the closure of the Nisus Gallery. I saw Brad Nelson, who ran the Nisus Gallery, on a public access show talking about a long list of projects, none of them related to art so I knew he was a busy man. While it’s sad that the Nisus Gallery is gone, it’s a good time to welcome Carl & Sloan Contemporary to the Kenton neighborhood. I’m happy that I’ll continue to be inspired on my nightly dog walks that usually take me past the new gallery space which is housed in the Disjecta Contemporary Art Center building.
New Show: Testable Predictions
Featuring works by Amy Bernstein , Perry Doane and Michelle Liccardo.
March 14 – April 12, 2015
8371 N. Interstate Ave. #1, Portland, OR 97217 — 360.608.9746
Sarah Mirk is my journalism hero in Portland. I enjoyed reading her writing when she was a staff writer for the Portland Mercury. She left the paper to work for Bitch Media where she’s the online editor. I’ve heard her appearances on the OPB talk show Think Out Loud doing News Roundtable segments many times and have always appreciated her opinions. It was Sarah’s comments on the podcast Karl Show (starring Jason), when she shared her appreciation for pie, that inspired this email interview. Sarah is the author of Sex From Scratch: Making Your Own Relationship Rules.
3 Questions for Sarah Mirk
What makes pie one of your favorite desserts or even meals?
Pie is a meditative process to make—mixing the crust and rolling out the dough takes time, and that’s good. It’s also tied up in history. I use my family’s recipe, which involves measuring blobs of crisco, but I like hearing other peoples’ stories about their memories of pie. Pie always reminds me of my dad, whose annual tradition is making way too many pies at Thanksgiving. It’s a food that many people have a strong opinions about. Of course, the most obvious reason to like pie is that it’s delicious. My favorite kinds of pie are rhubarb and cherry.
What are some of your favorite Portland area places for pie?
Actually, my favorite place to get pie is at roadside diners whenever I’m driving somewhere far away. I like stopping in a random small town diner for coffee and a huge wedge of berry pie and getting a feel of the town. In Portland, I don’t go out for pie that much. But you really can’t beat Random Order and Loretta Jean’s for a classic pie. I’m vegan these days, so I’ve been eating a lot of flaky pie-like pastries from Sweetpea.
Ever been to Shari’s for their Wednesday night pie special (free slice of pie with the order of an entree)?
You know, I’ve only been to Shari’s once, when some friends and I drove out to the Pendleton Round-Up. On the way back, we stopped at what my friends insisted was the first-ever Shari’s in the world, which is just like every other Shari’s and is in a parking lot somewhere in Eastern Oregon. I got a slice of pie and it was pretty dang mediocre.
Note: This is not meant as an advertisement or commercial endorsement for Shari’s Cafe.
Next year I hope to be doing a live remote PI Day broadcast from a Shari’s Cafe parking lot while being beaten about the head and shoulders by a gang of protractor wielding mathematicians.
Surely not a nod to Magritte, but a sign letting people know that what looks like a motel is now no longer a motel. The Comfy Inn has been a short-term housing center run by Emmanuel Community Services for close to two years.
While it might be confusing, it is cool to see the motel’s “motel” characteristics left intact. The sign and the mural around back, as well as the neon arrow pointing to the motel’s check-in office remain. The unspectacular sign serves as a reminder of the other motels and motel signs up and down Interstate Ave. The neon message that says sorry at the bottom of the sign is as good an apology as can be offered to someone who reads the words “this is not a motel” taped to the old office window and then has to head down Interstate Ave looking for other accommodations.
I don’t know if the sign will always be around but the mural has survived a recent paint job.
I miss the days when the motel was a motel. The biggest excitement then was when the motel would fill up with people coming from all over to attend the Portland International Raceway Auto Swap Meet. These days my inner curmudgeon gets inflamed by noisy kids playing in the motel parking lot when I’m trying to write. I was also irritated about a construction trailer for 6 months after our new neighbors arrived but one construction trailer became two smaller ones and they seem to have blended into the background. Sure the motel was once a quieter place but I can’t deny kids the right to make their joyous sounds. Besides it drowns out the hammering from the condo project across the street and the neighborhood’s many barking dogs as we all strive to live together in perfect harmony.
Read a Willamette Week blog post about this very topic:
The first thing I noticed was the mustache. It’s black and flat like a beaver’s tail and too round on top. It’s fake. I have a certain radar for anything overly false like toupees and eye lashes. It’s hard not to notice when the installment of Drunk Cop I saw begins. It was posted on the Portland Film and Video Group so I took a look. Beyond my initial reaction, I have to admit I hit the fast forward button. I couldn’t brave the ‘stache. At least fast forward is better than indulging my short attention span on something else.
The next thing I know I see the mustache man sitting down off kilter in front of the Kenton Library. I swell with neighborhood pride, the same pride I felt seeing a photo of three out of four members of the band Red Fang sitting in the kid’s section of the same library–a photo on the Multnomah County Library website where the band talks about their favorite books, but I digress. This slumped down man is getting spoken to by a pregnant woman. I start wondering if she’s really pregnant and now realize that this can’t possibly matter. She is saying the most outlandish things of a sexual nature. Pregnant prostitute! I’m freaking out through more scenes of who I now realize is Drunk Cop wallowing in all kinds of filth and depravity. Sick and disgusting, yes, you’ll want to look away but you might want to look back.
A few days later, I sat down and watched an episode of Drunk Cop and was rewarded with many comedic moments. It’s certainly not for the faint of heart but if you’re a fan of gross out humor each scene out grosses the next. Impressive.
Looking over the website, I spot stills from scenes that feature many of my treasured local North Portland landmarks like Heavenly Donuts and downtown Kenton and again I fill with pride. It’s cool to see something local and lively and truly weird going on in North Portland.
On the site under the heading “Lonely?” you can find out how you might be able to participate as an actor or actress in the web series. You probably don’t even have to be pregnant. I’m trying to get up the nerve to get back into the acting game. It’s been a long time since my days in community theater.
Here’s a link to a Drunk Cop episode:
Here’s the Drunk Cop web site. Get back in the acting game:
Fashionista scarecrow or Goddess mannequin yard art? It was difficult to tell. When I stopped on a misty afternoon to take her picture she gave me her best red carpet frozen pose but refused to answer my queries. She’s got the looks and grace of Taylor Swift dressed up to sign a recording contract extension. I’m not sure what’s propping her up but she stands tall and glamorous braving the elements in a Kenton neighborhood yard.
This decorative mannequin torso and head with her pants dangling and askew brought out my mannequin fever. Her head reminded me of a beauty academy practice hair head and I recalled the time a friend found two huge boxes of heads outside an Arlington, Virginia beauty academy. There were strange heads hanging around for years.
Sitting at urgent care one December night when my wife had a health scare, I was stuck in the waiting area for three hours with only one issue of a Portland Monthly Magazine. I read it cover to cover and read it some more until I had read every word of the issue. A short blurb jumped out at me. I remember the article was about February and what a tough month it can be. I considered the thoughts of Rich Reece who had been interviewed for the piece.
He pointed out that February was not a good time to make any life changes. People get in bad moods and funks. They get the winter blahs. It had been his experience that people make bad, snap decisions this time of year.
At that point I braced myself for February. Years ago I had dropped out of college in mid winter so it was something I dwelled on. I wasn’t expecting bad things to happen but the article served as a reminder of what could happen if you don’t respect February. Reece pointed out that he wouldn’t make any serious decisions in this time of year like breaking up with someone or quitting a job without lining up another one. With that taken into account, I slogged my way through the month. Anytime I got down or felt lousy I reminded myself what month it was. I wasn’t going to quit my job, get mad at anyone or raise a ruckus at anytime. I didn’t do myself any favors by drinking too much coffee and not eating enough fruits and vegetables but I didn’t want to do much of anything else, just look for the light at the end of the tunnel which seemed to be the next month.
Now February doesn’t seem so bad. We’ve had sunny days, not warm enough for my tastes, but sunshine nonetheless. I was reminded that last February we had ice and snow, but that doesn’t seem to happen often. And while the east coast had their blizzards, this winter has seen about three snowflakes.
I remember first moving to Portland in February seven years ago, feeling warm temperatures and fresh air despite it being damp. We had seasonal weather that year, like we always do in February. We headed to the park to throw a frisbee. We didn’t have jobs. But February has its share of gloomy, gray days. It’s as good an explanation as any for why Valentine’s Day is right smack in the middle of the month. You need flowers to look at and chocolate to make it to March. And why not make it shorter by three days most years. Let’s finish this miserable month as soon as possible.
I have yet to touch base with Rich Reece again. He might find it strange to see himself mentioned in a blog post. I found out he lives in my neighborhood so if I get the chance I’ll tell him that I think he saved my life or at the very least had me thinking up some better strategies to survive February.
Here’s a link to the article:
Scroll down to the headline that says: Get Your Head Right
There is still time to catch the Finster show at the Portland Museum of Modern Art located in the basement of Mississippi Records at 5202 N. Albina Ave. Portland, OR 97217. I would advise you to stop reading now and go directly to see this art, don’t make any excuses or procrastinate. I have not made it over to the show myself but it’s not to be missed. We’re talking about the Reverend Howard Finster, the eccentric, southern preacher who started cranking out primitive folk art late in his life and didn’t stop until his death in 2001.
I’m biased because I like this art so much. It’s colorful, sometimes crude, but always detailed in a energetic way with stick figure angels and smiling clouds. Sometimes there’s a message to the work that’s glaringly obvious because it’s written on the painting whether it’s a biblical verse or another kind of platitude. This is a show made up of work collected by area residents. As a college student in Virginia during the 80’s it would have been difficult for me not to have come in contact with the art of Howard Finster either through album covers which used his art or by having a chance to see an amazing show in nearby Roanoke, VA. I saw more of his art on display in the folk collection of the National Gallery and his pieces were included in other folk art shows that came to the Washington DC area where I lived and there was always a painting or two of his in the shows at the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore, Maryland.
Finster’s art will be in town until March 14 so there is still time to see it. The thought of having a collection of Finster’s work on display in Portland amazes me. There’s nothing like those paintings. I was always captivated by that wild southern spirit of Howard Finster. He was all kinds of charming, yet mysterious, which had me wondering where his creativity was coming from and how it had been inspired. I could never forget the video of him as he told the story of how he got paint on his finger and when he looked at it there was a face that told him to paint sacred art. Paradise Gardens, his home compound seemed like a mythical place with folk art cut outs sprouting out of the yard like mushrooms. I was glad to be able to visit in 1998 and tour the grounds and years later happy to hear about the major restoration that has since taken place. Get to the show. You’ve waited too long already.
Here’s some additional memories inspired by Finster. He’s not the type of southerner I would have encountered as a kid living in the Atlanta area in the early to mid 70’s but his portrait of Jimmy Carter I saw while reviewing footage of Paradise Gardens had me flashing back to the good old days. I must have been impressed with Carter because my big brother, Jack, went on a school field trip to the Atlanta state capital and saw then Governor, Jimmy Carter, hard at work at his desk and then soon after he became president. We moved to Washington D.C. two years later and went to Carter’s inaugural parade. In a lawyer’s office, looking down on Pennsylvania Avenue, we saw Jimmy take to the streets with Rosalyn in her teal coat and a then 9 year old Amy Carter skipping around.
Jimmy was too nice a guy to be president for long. I mean the dude isn’t getting much respect from me as I’m using his first name. He used to get on TV and tell us to turn our thermostat down and wear sweaters to conserve energy. Carter was the first president to put solar panels on the White House so I guess he was on to something. Jimmy Carter jumped ahead of the other notable Georgians I remember from my childhood like Lester Maddox, not a hero, but an oddball who ran a strange newspaper advertisement for what I recall was a restaurant. I later adapted the ad for a book report. “Lester Maddox says read Stuart Little.” And there was James Oglethorpe who probably was more of a hero type. I immortalized him in a diorama for a school.
Since I started the Portland Orbit, I had the idea that other cities could have their own Orbit, but I didn’t consider how I could accomplish this. Once I started blogging, I spent all my spare time on the content of the blog so franchising became a forgotten dream. Then my old friend Will Simmons and I were emailing about something and he planted the seed of starting the Pittsburgh Orbit. I wrote him back and said, yeah, that would be really cool, no pressure or anything and he was hesitant, but the next thing I knew not only had he started the site, he was blogging like a fiend and the content was amazing to me.
Pittsburgh flood markers, a jaws tombstone and gum graffiti are just some of the topics Will has written about. Writing like a professor on some kind of academic steroids, his thoughts are far from stuffy, they’re alive, comical, sometimes sad but always engaging. If this is to become a west coast east coast rivalry I can only hope it remains friendly. Will is raising the blogging bar so high that I’m not sure my nephew John could high jump over it. The Portland Orbit recently posted a piece on a baby doll strapped to a car while the Pittsburgh Orbit ran an expose on a dead mall in suburban Pittsburgh. Baby doll vs dead mall, mono brow vs high brow, I don’t know, it could be a west coast/east coast thing, only time and continued writing will tell.
It was over ten years ago that Will helped me produced a video about Pittsburgh for a public access television series I was producing. Without much direction, Will stepped into a producer and TV host role with ease. He guided us to great material for segments then drove us around as the camera rolled and we got to know his city. Will is the kind of guy who is always willing to help, has great ideas and loves talking about Pittsburgh.
We welcome the Pittsburgh Orbit to the blogosphere. There can’t be anyone more proud and excited to be reading the thoughts of Will Simmons on the city where he has been a long time resident, a place he now considers his adopted hometown. It’s going on 20 years, if memory serves me well, and much of that time has found Will, camera in hand, exploring his surroundings. The idea of him sharing his Pittsburgh enthusiasm with me and other readers means we’re in for some good reading. Whether you’ve lived in Pittsburgh, visited or even if you’re unfamiliar with the city but you enjoy absorbing curious culture about a specific locale, I know the Pittsburgh Orbit will provide enjoyment to anyone in any of these categories.
Will Simmons takes Clown Art serious.
Watch the public access show about Pittsburgh featuring Will Simmons as an accidentally awesome TV host:
See Will Simmons in his musician guise from his days as a member of the legendary band The Hope-Harveys:
Dalo’s Ethiopian Kitchen, the restaurant anyway, has been gone a while and maybe it should not have been a surprise given the dramatic sweep of new buildings that have been taking over North Williams Ave. From the outside it never looked like much, nondescript and in a building that housed the Oregon Minority Entrepreneurs Association. Inside it was like any Ethiopian restaurant with Ethiopian music, Ethiopian travel posters and a bar towards the back. It was a bit dingy but the food was good. It seemed to be run by an older, bubbly gentleman and his harried son. You never wanted to order off the menu, not after they started the buffet service, because it seemed to take hours to get food. Now time isn’t so bad when you just want to hang out with friends but hours, and yes it’s an exaggeration, when I’m thinking multiple hours it was probably closer to 2 than 3, but there is only so much time that can be spent in a restaurant waiting for food or the check. The buffet on the other hand was easy. There was a sink ten feet away so you could wash your hands, important when you’re eating with them, otherwise you had to grab the key and walk down the hall to a shared bathroom. The buffet was good for eating in or loading up serving savers for carry out. Dalo’s Kitchen made me realize that there are varying ways of preparing Ethiopian food, different items, a variety of dishes with every restaurant providing their unique take on what Ethiopian food can be.
I drive up North Williams sometimes when I pick up carry out from Queen of Sheeba, another Ethiopian restaurant. I’ve lived in Portland long enough to remember when North Williams was more empty lots than condos but I can’t get nostalgic about the old Hostess store. The construction boom was a bit of a shock after years with nothing much going on or going up. A recent ride up Williams on my bike had me spotting 20 or more construction workers on a lunch break. Changes to the area like the addition of New Seasons and other new businesses and restaurants as well as North Williams now having one of the automobile lanes reserved for bikes have made the street more active. It feels like it has the potential to get congested but most of the time I’m passing through.
I miss Dalo’s in it’s old spot. When I saw it had been demolished it was disconcerting but there were buildings going up on all sides so why wouldn’t there be a new big building there too. Dalo’s Kitchen has a food cart in Alberta. The website points out you can “find us next to the New Rose City Cab Co.” The optimist in me has Dalo’s Kitchen becoming a restaurant again and returning to some nicer digs. The Oregon Minority Entrepreneurs Association has a fine new office set up in Hayden Meadows in the Delta Park area so maybe all hope is not lost. In the meantime I have to hit the cart not only for the food but maybe to see if I can find the bubbly old man and his harried son. Anybody know how to get to the New Rose City Cab Company?
The spirit of the day has taken over. Earlier in the week I was in a Dollar Store parking lot when I witnessed two people carrying enormous bunches of balloons. They proceeded to stuff them into a station wagon. My research revealed that the first batch of store bought balloons totaled 124. One escaped and floated away. How this was actually accomplished I never found out because I went into the store to do my in depth reporting. I was told that 250 balloons were purchased in all making a return pick up necessary. 250 balloons at a dollar a pop, you do the math.
For all of you getting the love, flowers, chocolate, the cards, wine and prix fixe meals have a happy and abundant Valentine’s Day.
Post Script: This (above) was hanging on a telephone pole in downtown Kenton dark and early Valentine’s Day. The sign included free hand decorated tags for the taking to spread Valentine’s Day cheer.
Portland Orbit 