A man who built his own bronze foundry, a new documentary about a Tijuana crime reporter, steve mARTin, and something about the Kings and Father's Day.
R.H. Greene's "Vampira and Me" Off-Ramp documentary is now a major motion picture
In 1954, Maila Nurmi shocked the world as sexy horror host Vampira on KABC. She rocketed to national, then worldwide stardom, then quickly faded. She died in 2008. A couple of years ago, R.H. Greene, who became friends with Nurmi in her later years, told her story for Off-Ramp in a documentary called "Vampira and Me." That radio documentary is now a film up for "Best Documentary" at the LA Film Festival. There's one more showing: Saturday, Jun 23, at 7:30 pm, at Regal Cinemas L.A.
When we aired the radio doc, Greene wrote:
'In the interviews I conducted with Maila when we were friends back in the 1990s, she made it clear again and again how completely uninterested and even hostile she was to the conformity and largesse that were universal priorities of her era and every era since. "I don't like to do wholesome people," she said to me when describing the inspiration for the giddily unwholesome Vampira. "I don't like to dwell on their very existence, let alone pretend to be one."'
'Vampira became an enduring icon because she offered a place to stand for all the misfits who hear a stifled scream beneath the smiley face pasted over so much of modern life. And she was empowered to do this by the fact that the woman who created her meant it with every molecule of her being.
'The goth kids suiting up on Halloween weekend may not even know whose crest they're wearing when they slip into their black fishnets, cinch their waists, and press on their long red fingernails. But the momentary exhilaration they feel -- that sense of danger, and the cool breeze of freedom wafting like oxygen though the stale air of the everyday -- has been blown to them like a kiss from Maila's ruby red lips. It's a cliche, but freedom isn't free -- especially not for the pioneers. In the end, it cost Maila a lot to maintain that stance for so long, but I don't know if there was another one available to her.'
(There's one more showing of "Vampira and Me" in the LA Film Festival. It's Saturday, Jun 23, at 7:30 pm, at Regal Cinemas L.A.)
Documentary 'Reportero' looks at Tijuana journo who risks his life to report on crime
Among the many offerings at the Los Angeles Film Festival this weekend is a documentary titled “Reportero.” It focuses on Sergio Haro, a veteran crime reporter at the Tijuana-based newspaper, Zeta, that week after week blares full-page headlines about political corruption and drug cartel violence.
KPCC’s Adolfo Guzman Lopez sat down with the film’s director Bernardo Ruiz.
Bernardo Ruiz: Sergio is a veteran beat reporter, he's been writing for nearly three decades in the border city of Mexicali, and his beat is literally everything that happens in Mexicali. So he covers political corruption, political scandal. A big part of what he's covered is organized crime, immigration, but he's also after human stories. He always likes to say that he's after the story that's behind the story -- stories that fall between the cracks.
Adolfo Guzman-Lopez: In the beginning in the doc he talks about journalism reflecting reality and the reality that you're talking here is the reality where the drug cartels are corrupting the institutions, the civil institutions in a country. What caught your attention about how Sergio sees his profession?
Ruiz: I kept asking him if he felt like his job was futile. He will publish a story, he'll break a very big story and oftentimes the very people he's criticizing or outing for their corruption remain on power. Nothing happens to them. And so there were many times in the filmmaking process where I would ask him, 'Sergio, don't you feel like this kind of Sisyphean task of yours isn't it kind of a waste of your time?'
He was always very clear about that, he wasn't excessively optimistic, but he would always say, 'I have my job to do. I have one piece of the puzzle to do. My job is to get the story out there and to publish the story and get it out into the world. What happens afterwards is not my job. My job is to tell the story I'm a reporter, I'm a photographer, that's what I do. The authorities are then responsible for doing something with that information.
Guzman-Lopez: Your documentary is set to air on public television in the fall. Why is it an important film for a U.S. audience to watch?
Ruiz: I think unfortunately most of the news that we get about Mexico in the U.S. is about the body count or heads in the streets. It's not that those stories aren't valid, but I felt that it was really important to tell the story about a kind of quiet dignity of a beat reporter, someone who is doing their job and there are many structural failures around this person, but here is one reporter and one newspaper that really are doing their job.
Guzman-Lopez: What does Zeta reporter Sergio think about the film?
Ruiz: I'll tell you the most touching thing that he said to me is, Sergio has a son, and he watched a cut of the film with his son. After the screening of the film his son came up to him, a son who's a teenager and doesn't always have the easiest relationship with his father, he said, 'Dad, I just want you to know that I've always been proud of you."
Bernardo Ruiz’s film "Reportero" screens at the Los Angeles Film Festival on Sat. June 16 at 7:40 p.m. and Mon. June 17, at 7:50 p.m. Get tickets here.
Gallery 1988 displays its love for Steve Martin
Gallery 1988 is a pop culture-inspired art gallery started in 2004 by Jensen Karp and Katie Cromwell. The exhibits are themed after celebrities, like Bill Murray, Pee Wee Herman, and now Steve Martin. This month the actor, writer, musician, and modern day renaissance man joins the ranks and becomes immortalized in an exhibit called "Excuuuuuse Meeeeeeee." It's a collection of work influenced by Martin's career as an entertainer.
Karp named the exhibit after something Martin said in his comedy album, "Let's Get Small". He and his friend would listen to the album constantly as a kid, and the phrase, "Well Excuse Me!" just stuck. When he tries to explain the title, people normally don't get it. But Karp was attracted to this catch phrase because "he's so good at making these things sound funny."
Steve Martin not only pursues a vast amount of artistic endeavors, but he's an avid art collector as well. For that reason, Karp says, "it makes a ton of sense for why artists would be so inspired by the stuff he's done."
The fan favorite of the night went to Fernando Reza's portrayal of the beach scene from The Jerk.
Alf LaMont, Nathan Levenson, and Tonya Cooke were the first to purchase the original work. Alf and his friends frequently attend Gallery 1988 on Melrose and it was their first time at the Venice location. Just like Martin, they enjoy collecting art and find Gallery 1988's works and pricing accessible to a younger generation. LaMont says, "This is internet age art at its core." Alf believes 1988 is tapping into an audience that other galleries ignore, and "the fact that it caters to young people is just what the doctor ordered."
The exhibit is open Wednesday through Sunday from 11:00 AM to 6:00 PM, and ends its run at the Venice location on Saturday, June 30th.
Do people actually respond to scam emails?
Have you ever wondered whether people actually respond to those scam emails that promise millions of dollars in inheritance? KPCC'S Education Reporter Tami Abdollah recently learned the answer the hard way. She writes with a first person account of the experience:
My email account was hacked after a virus found its way through the system. Note to self: always update your software. The attack began Memorial Day morning and lasted about 20 hours. By then nearly 60,000 emails had been sent from my account to people I had never met. Here's what it said:
"I am Mrs. Jamila Abd-Al-Hamid, a Muslim. I have picked your email address for an inheritance of 18.2 million pounds. Please contact me for more details via email."
And even though they were told to write another address, I still heard back from more than 150 people. In fact, I'm still getting responses.
My emails went out to all levels of government across multiple continents, NGOs, humanitarian organizations. Lots of these people were working in Africa, in the Sudan, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda. My email reached the State Department, USAID, various agencies involved with the United Nations, The Guardian newspaper, Shell, the German Red Cross, Sony.
What did they say? Here's just a few of the responses I got:
"Is this for real?"
"I accept!"
"Please stop writing such silly e-mails."
"Go **** yourself with your 18 million pounds."
"I received your below email, and thanks for that. If you would like to send me the said amount, please send it via DHL to my office because I have no banking account for foreign currency. Thanks for your understanding."
"You are a thief!!!!!!!!! Thank you for your cooperation."
"You can use it for anything you want. I am a satisfied person, I want nothing from strangers. You can try your luck else where. Not me. Don't you ever write to me again."
"Thanks, keep the money, give it away, better still--use it to help your family. Money has no value for me. Be happy. "
Overall, more than a quarter of the people wanted to know more. Some thought I was their long lost love, some asked for a photo, or wanted to be friends. And a good dozen told me I needed to accept Jesus as my savior or made some other reference to God. Plenty of people also cussed me out.
I'm still trying to sort through more than 30,000 emails clogging up my system. And I'm infamous with our IT department now.
I later learned the hacker was in Melaka -- a historic, and culturally rich seaside city in Malaysia that I visited last year. It's a small world after all, I guess.
Update: After consideration, we've removed the term "Nigerian scam emails" from the headline of this piece and thank our commenters for joining in the conversation.
When jet-setting reporter Charlie Le Duff became a stay-at-home-dad
A few years ago, when his daughter was born, Pulitzer Prize winning New York Times reporter Charlie LeDuff gave up his jet-set life to become a stay-at-home dad. He wrote:
"I find myself staring into the rearview mirror of my career. There was that time in Iraq when I wandered into a city hall that had been taken over by a radical cleric and his followers. It was Good Friday, and in the spirit of brotherhood we prayed together. By the end, the holy man's supporters were chanting with thumbs raised high: "Charlie good! Charlie good!" In some way I was an ambassador—not of the U.S. government, certainly, but at least to the notion that Americans are a decent, brotherly lot."
Being at home, changing diapers, exchanging emails with his former colleagues who are still covering the exciting stories, hit Charlie hard. But he got advice from a man named Jose:
"Jose articulated the thing my friends — the go-to-work dads — were not able, or not willing, to tell me: You have to decide if the child is more important than the stature, the action, the money. If she is, you must accept it and get on with the routine."
LeDuff is now a muckraking reporter at WJBK-Channel 2 in Detroit.
Gordon Bowen makes bronze sculptures from a foundry he started from scrap
Artist Gordon Bowen makes bronze sculptures out of his very own foundry--which is a factory that casts metal--in Lincoln Heights. He started the Arts Refoundry last year with his girlfriend, Kate Mayfield, and uses found materials and bronze to create sculptures. Kate handles the business side while Gordon makes the sculptures.
Bowen got interested in sculpture during college. The first time he poured hot metal, Bowen says he "got to lift up the molten metal and pour it into the mold. After that moment was when I was like, 'Wow, I'm gonna do this again, and again, and again.'"
Bowen worked in several foundries around Los Angeles before he decided he wanted to start his own. But foundries cost money--and Bowen couldn’t afford the equipment to start a business. So like any good artist, he got creative: Gordon drove around Los Angeles in search of spare parts to make a furnace. But he wasn't just looking for random pieces of scrap metal, he says, "you're looking for a specific piece of junk. Like, the right piece of junk!"
Gordon eventually found a hot water heater--there was his furnace. Not only was it cost efficient, but also made it easier for them to start their business.
Gordon Bowen says the best part of the process isn't the final product, but the potential he sees in his medium. "You'll see a piece of steel with a particular shape," he says. "And you look at it for a second and in your mind it's already turned into fifteen things."
If you want to take part in the process, the Arts Refoundry holds workshops where you can make your own metal sculpture. You can sign up for classes on their website.
Singer Moira Smiley and VOCO bring Balkans to Los Angeles
On a cool Los Angeles evening, about thirty people gather at a home in Mt. Washington known as the 'Polish Plantation' -- so named for its former owner, a Polish immigrant who dedicated years to decorating the entire house with elaborately carved wooden ornamentation. Out back, the roof of a shed has been turned into a stage. Three women stand atop it, dressed warmly against the chill, an enormous pine tree strung with lights rising behind them to form a backdrop.
As the crowd falls silent, the women begin to step, clap and beat on their chests and thighs, eyes closed to focus together on the rhythm they're creating with their bodies. They start to softly hum, then sing, three voices joined together in harmony, no instruments needed - a sound nearly as old as music itself.
To hear VOCO is to be transported across waters, across worlds, across time. As Moira Smiley, the group's main composer, arranger and musicologist says, "What I love about old music is that there is a sense of your smallness in the big story, and that your song is about reaching out into the unknown with your voice as a searchlight."
Smiley began exploring the world's music as a little girl, growing up in a farmhouse in Vermont. Her parents were avid music lovers. "[We] had a record box that was a big wooden chest, and all the records were in it, and at an early age, I wanted to organize them and understand the differences between these different styles that my parents liked. Primarily it was jazz, folk, classical, and a little bit of pop from the 60s and 70s...they were interested in classical music and art music and folk music. Basically, they were wanting to understand the world through music."
Understanding the world through music became Smiley's passion as well. She started her exploration at the age of 12, going to Russia with a folk singing troupe, where she got to experience folk music on a large scale. Since then she has traveled from far-flung European villages to the corners of the southern United States, all to listen, learn, and absorb the music that people have lived with for generations, in places where music is woven into everyday life. "It tends to be places that are not cities, that are rural," she says, "often people don't think of themselves as musicians, and they would laugh if you said they were, but then they come up with fifty songs that they know by heart."
Early on, she was drawn to the folk music and harmonies of Eastern Europe: Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Bulgaria. "Mostly the songs that the women would sing and songs to accompany dance," she says. "And they were full of harmony, at least two, often three and four part vocal harmony."
She found that when people sing together, no matter what part of the world they're from, it's with a purpose. "People use harmony singing to express celebration," she says, "but also woe, and just the most eternal longing."
In traditional Eastern European music, voices blend together in long, river-like tones, harmonizing in ways that mesmerize and surprise our ears. Smiley explains that the songs are based on a harmonic structure that developed differently than the western music we're accustomed to. The vast landscape, she says, contributes to the horizontal feel of the music. "You feel time differently in some of these more eastern cultures, and some of the early music reflects that as well."
Smiley brought home the music she learned, taught it to her friends, and VOCO was born. A classically trained singer, she found that capturing the essence of traditional Eastern European music isn't just about learning melodies and lyrics. It means learning a whole new way of using your voice, absorbing a new body language and internalizing a culture.
That evening at the concert, under a full moon, the voices of VOCO blend with the usual Los Angeles soundscape: dogs barking in the distance, the occasional fly-over, a hint of ranchera radio coming through the speakers. But they can still take us to a place where songs like these have been sung for centuries - and where the things we sing about never change. Smiley introduces an ancient Hungarian song with this universal theme:
"Love, love, wretched love! Why do you not blossom on every tree, and why do you not come for every boy, every lonely girl and every orphan boy?"
Moira Smiley continues to reach into the unknown, using her voice to light the way.
Commentator Don Shirley: Enough with the Tony awards, LA Times!
In an opinion piece for the LA Stage Times, writer Don Shirley laments what he sees as a Tony Awards obsession at the Los Angeles Times. Here are his thoughts:
The morning after the Tony Awards, the LA Times' print edition ran five Tony-centric articles, two sidebars, and 13 photos, with a thirteenth photo on the front page of the entire newspaper. Online, there were 55 photos from the Tony ceremony. All this coverage in an LA paper for an awards ceremony for Broadway.
Yes, I know, Broadway is the center of the American commercial theater industry, and sometimes Tony awards influence theatre here in LA, but not, as Times critic Charles McNulty wrote, a "huge effect." Large swaths of LA theater are largely untouched by Tony hype.
Much of the impetus for Times Tony addiction probably comes from the fact that this is the only theater award ceremony on national TV, which tends to feed the notion that the Tonys represent American theater in general. Rather than challenge that misconception, the Times has chosen to re-inforce it.
I wouldn't mind so much the way the Times treats the Tonys, if it devoted more than the slightest token attention to the theater awards in its own city. As Stephen Sacs of Fountain Theatre wrote in a letter to the editor, "When will the Los Angeles Times shine its theater spotlight more on its own home city and start giving equal space and attention to theater in Los Angeles? Our own LA Ovation Awards get barely a mention in the Times each year."
Kudos to Sachs, but it would be even better if civilians who are interested in LA theater -- not actual participants in it -- would ask these same questions in the months preceding the Tonys, or in the weeks preceding the Ovation Awards ceremony each year.
The Times Tony orgy perpetuates the absurd but alarmingly common notion that Angelenos should go to New York to partake of exciting theater.
Reviewing the Tonys, Times TV critic Mary McNamara wrote: "We may not have seen most or any of the nominated plays and performances, but gosh, the numbers and clips look terrific and everyone seems so genuinely delighted with the collective work that it's difficult not to wonder what the fares to New York are like these days."
Gosh and gee whiz -- let's also tally the cost of New York room and board and the sky-high Broadway tickets themselves and see how much we can spend, when we could have seen something equally as interesting for a tiny fraction of those costs, right here in LA.
In an online Tonys post-mortem sponsored by the Times, even McNulty acknowledged that too much of the American theater is geared toward the Tonys." There's been too much consolidation," he said. "It is theater's biggest night -- and should be. But their centrality has a downside."
Of course it really isn't the American theater that's geared too much toward the Tonys as much as it's the coverage of the American theater by the LA Times.
Tell us what you think: does Times focus too much on the Tony Awards? Does it happen at the expense of local theater? Do you pay attention to the Tonys?