Kenzi Shiokava's big break at the Hammer's "Made in LA" ... remembering the passion of Jim Hangley, owner of Mustangs Only! ... take a siesta in Nappify's sleep pods ... a day in the life of Little Arabia ... St Thomas More comes to LA ... Dogs v Fireworks
St. Thomas More's bone, half a tooth come to Los Angeles
Imagine your father has just been beheaded for defying King Henry VIII, and his head has been placed on display on London Bridge. How much guts would it take to steal the head and take it home? Then, how awful would it be to cut out a piece of his jawbone, and wrench out a tooth?
But that's what Sir Thomas More's daughter did, and it's why the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels on Temple Street in downtown Los Angeles can display St. More's relics and a ring from St. John Fisher, who also defied Henry.
The relics are on a national Witnesses to Freedom tour, organized by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, and they're only at the cathedral until 3 p.m. Saturday. (They also include St. Oscar Romero's microphone!)
I spoke with Joe Reed, assistant curator at Stonyhurst College in Manchester England which keeps the relics, and Elizabeth Harper, who writes about "Bodies, bones, relics, lore and oddities from the Catholic Church."
Listen to the audio to hear the full story, including the difference between first-class and second-class relics, and the remarkable story of a relic that resides here in L.A. full-time — near Gregory Peck's vault in the cathedral's crypt.
Marlon Brando's former gardener, now 78, gets big break at The Hammer
UPDATE 8/16/2016: The Hammer just announced that Kenzi Shiokava has won one of the Mohn Awards, given to artists in the Made in LA biennial. Using kiosks around the museum, visitors named Kenzi their favorite artist, and he's getting the $25,000 Public Recognition Award. (Disclosure: Jarl Mohn, now the head of NPR, is a longtime board member and supporter of KPCC.)
You want an only-in-L.A. story?
Try Kenzi Shiokava, a Japanese-Brazilian-American artist who works in Compton, was Marlon Brando's gardener, and is getting his big break at the Hammer Museum — at 78!
Kenzi was born in Brazil in 1938 of Japanese parents and came to California in 1964.
"Art was something like sacred to me," he says. "Even when I was in grammar school or whatever, I always liked to draw, but I never felt I was going to be an artist." He thought to himself, "Maybe in 20 years I'll do something that really comes from me."
Kenzi went to Chouinard and Otis art schools, but he says it wasn't until the final semester, in 1972, that he found his medium. He'd been doing two-dimensional work — drawing and painting — but then had to take a sculpture class and was lost. "I had no ideas. I was like a vacuum, nothing there," he says.
But then at home he went outside and started cleaning a piece of wood he was going to use in his garden. And it hit him: "That was the most wonderful afternoon in my life," he says, laughing at the memory. "I said that was what I was going to use. That was the material, the wood, and from that moment, I worked day and night, and said nothing bothers me anymore, everything's going to be OK."
Kenzi is about 5 feet tall, with long arms and powerful, knotted hands, and a stooping gait from arthritis. He works in an enormous warehouse studio in Compton that is neatly packed with artworks and materials to make artworks.
Since he's a woodcarver, there are stacks of wood everywhere. Not the chunks of beautiful hardwood you'd find at a good lumberyard, but driftwood, found wood, plain old boards he's salvaged.
And since he also makes assemblages, there are things everywhere — saws, knickknacks, a headless turtle incense burner, strings of beads, hand drills — all waiting to find their way into a work of art when inspiration strikes.
360 Panorama inside Kenzi Shiokava's Compton Studio
Thousands of books on tall shelves divide the cavernous space into human-sized rooms.
Kenzi says after all this time in relative obscurity — other artists knew him but not the public or the art establishment — being picked for the Hammer's Made in LA 2016 biennial gives him peace of mind, confidence that his legacy of art is secure, and that he can pay the rent.
"Made in L.A. 2016: a, the, though, only," at the Hammer Museum through Aug. 28, features works by 28 artists, including a career retrospective of Kenzi Shiokava.
Off-Ramp's Song of the Week: Chicago's 'Mongonucleosis'
By the time I became a DJ 1982, the group Chicago had left its roots as a hip, fun, rocky, jazzy, experimental band and become a hit machine, for good or bad.
But at WLXX in Sault Ste. Marie, we had a battered copy of their 1974 double album Chicago VII, which I stole when I went off to college.
At the Hollywood Bowl this weekend, where Chicago is featured at the July 4th Fireworks Spectacular, they'll probably play the big hit from Chicago VII, "(I've Been) Searchin' So Long." But you should hope they groove on "Mongonucleosis," which they play often at concerts, and which I have to assume is a tribute to the great Latin percussionist and composer Ramón "Mongo" Santamaría Rodríguez.
Tired and nowhere to nap? 'Nappify' is here to help
This week, Off-Ramp got to test out a service on the cutting edge when two young entrepreneurs drove their vision for a mobile siesta-space into KPCC's parking lot.
Kevin and Ken Pham, who were both born in Vietnam but now line in Garden Grove, parked what looks like a B-level movie star trailer outside our studios. The Phams have started a company called Nappify, and the trailer contained four "nap pods." They invited us to take off our shoes and come inside.
"Nappify is coming back to my childhood," says Kevin Pham. "In Vietnam we have an actual culture — businessmen take a break from 1-2 p.m. every day and they start the second half of the day refreshed, refocused, and ready to work."
U.S.C. sleep expert Dr. Raj Dasgupta says for Americans, sleep is underrated.
"We focus so much on the day, what you eat, your exercise — focus on the night! That's the other half of your day," he said.
Some fellow KPCC-ers stopped by to try out the new pods.
Reporter Jen Miller was intrigued. " It feels a little bit like being in a capsule hotel in Tokyo," she told John Rabe.
Reporter Leo Duran felt like the Nappify pods had room for improvement.
"This window, I would love it if it was blackout out," he said.
John Rabe, outfitted in his Merona pajamas, was easier to win over. "The answer is 'yes, I think I could do this'."
A day in the life of Anaheim's Little Arabia
Off-Ramp correspondent R. H. Greene celebrates Ramadan by spending 24 hours in Anaheim's Middle Eastern enclave.
The sun is setting in Anaheim's Little Arabia. In an empty restaurant called Desert Moon, the waitstaff takes the failing light as a call to action. Appetizers are swiftly set out. Huge pans of meat and vegetables materialize on buffet tables beside tiered fruit dishes and pastry platters.
Desert Moon is a new arrival on Brookhurst Street, the central corridor of the Little Arabia district. Its opening was rushed to coincide with Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting. Manager Ahmed Hammoud says this seeming paradox is actually a strategy.
"Well, Ramadan, as much as it is a fasting season, it is also a feasting season. We did our studies — it's almost 400,000 people living here with Arab origins. And because of the big number of people who will be coming to break the fast, this is also a very good marketing thing for the future."
Desert Moon quickly fills with the famished faithful. Fatima Albuhaisi, a cheerful and bespectacled diner, explains the importance of the end-of-day meal for her family. "During the regular day, we don't find time. My husband — working, always. My kids go to school. But in Ramadan, I make sure we sit and eat together."
I'm soon caught up in the elaborate dance of Muslim hospitality. Ahmed will not let me leave without eating. Fatima and her husband Walid secretly pay my bill. I ask Fatima why she has gone to such lengths to make a total stranger welcome. "It's Ramadan, and [there's] nobody with you at that table. So I would like to share something with you."
At 4:15 a.m. the next day, farther up Brookhurst Street, the West Coast Islamic Society's Al-Ansar Mosque resounds with the first call to prayer. Al Ansar is one of Little Arabia's more traditionalist mosques. Services are in Arabic. Women cover their heads and are separated from the men during prayer. This makes Al-Ansar an important cultural hub in a Little Arabia that has become a magnet for Muslim immigrants, who are often steeped in old ways.
"It started in the mid-70s going through our current time," says Jamal Albert Anaim, a jovial entrepreneur who has lived in Little Arabia for over three decades. "With the immigrants coming in in waves or individually, they start looking for something that will remind them of back home, something that will remind them of good old times when they were in the Middle East. And that actually made the community grow tremendously. I estimate in North Orange County probably with South L.A. County combined, there's probably about 120,000 Arabs and Muslims."
Muslim immigrants aren't the only ones drawn to Al Ansar Mosque by its traditions. Take Amina Maameri, a vivacious congregant in a black hijab who is in many ways a typical millennial. Amina studied communications. She's using Snapchat to crowdsource an ambitious storytelling project about Algerian identity. Amina sees no contradictions between her more modern impulses and the traditions of her faith.
"A lot of times I've gotten the word 'oppressive,' you know, that 'you're being forced to do something you don't want to do.' When I hear things like that, it is offensive to me. Because in a sense someone is coming and saying, you know, that this is what you are and this is who you are without allowing me to speak for myself."
Amina's husband, Tahar Herzallah, is an Al Ansar facilities manager. He's on the front lines of the mosque's community outreach.
"Right at the beginning of Ramadan, we just had a gift distribution to all of our neighbors," Herzallah says. "We walked around the neighborhood here, right behind the mosque, and just distributed gifts."
Tahar sees the benefits of outreach. And its limitations:
"I mean, I'll be frank with you... when you first walked in those doors yesterday, I thought you were going to come and talk to us about Orlando. No matter how hard we try as a community to put ourselves out there, to talk to people, to make ourselves more public, the media will only cover our community when there's some sort of tragedy. This is something that our community has been dealing with — this stigma, this image... I mean when our children are getting bullied in school and being called certain things, or when our women who wear hijab are walking around and getting harassed by people, that's a result of the way they're being portrayed. It just seems so far away from what the reality is that sometimes we just don't even know how to respond to it."
One local who's never at a loss for a response is Bill Dilati, who greets me at mid-day in his real estate office at mid-Brookhurst. "I don't feel that I'm an important figure," Dilati says, "but I am a servant of the community. God has blessed me with so much, and I'd like to give back."
Dilati is the closest thing Little Arabia has to a town father. A classic immigrant success story, he has a billboard-sized picture of himself in his parking lot and an office festooned with American flags.
"America has been the land of opportunity," he says. "I came here for the American Dream. And that dream — blissfully — was achieved. Thank God and God bless this land."
Dilati has long been a proactive force in Little Arabia. He's in charge of the upcoming Eid festival, and he thinks big. This year, Dilati hopes to draw more than 20,000 people to downtown Anaheim to celebrate Ramadan's end.
Even the promotional literature bears Dilati's patriotic stamp. On the Eid 2016 poster, a teenage girl in a hijab carries a sign reading "Girl Power," while other young girls have created hijabs out of the American flag.
"Well, our community's really scared," Dilati says. "They don't know where they belong anymore. Because a lot of people are telling them that you don't belong in this land. To strengthen the American Muslim identity in those kids is hard. So we're telling them that you're not an Arab, you're not a Pakistani, you're not Afghani. You're an American Muslim, and this is who you are."
Back at the Al-Ansar mosque, the mid-day service is packed. Friday is to Islam what Sunday is to Christianity — the holiest day, when the devout assemble for worship and moral guidance.
It's awkward to be the only man in a room filled to capacity who isn't praying. But thanks to a radio headset, I'm able to listen to Imam Moustapha Kamel in translation with one ear, and in his original Arabic with the other.
The imam's sermon is a kind of spiritual pep talk, featuring some remarkable asides in support of democracy, as well as denunciations of the military dictatorships in Syria and Egypt. There are some unspecific warnings about enemies of Islam that are substantially less militant than the lyrics to "Onward Christian Soldiers," and a special denunciation of Las Vegas as the living symbol of an un-Islamic way of life.
The imam closes by asking his congregants to be steadfast in a time of many humiliations. "Yes," says the imam. "I talked about that today. Because there are a lot of problems like Islamophobia here. All Muslims, all people, have to keep going and trust themselves. Allah said we have to be patient and we have to face any problem and fix it according to the Koran, and according to the Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him."
My day on Brookhurst Street is winding down. At Al-Ansar, it's time again to break the fast, with a traditional snack of dates and milk. The twilight prayer is punctuated by the delighted squeals of very young children who use the curtain separating the male and female worship areas for an improvised game of hide and seek.
The children are noisy, but no one interrupts their play.
Life — and worship — go on.
Celebrate the Little Arabia Eid festival Saturday, July 9, from noon-10pm in Downtown Anaheim.
How to keep dogs safe (and not hiding behind the toilet) during fireworks
"You or I know that it's fireworks. A dog has no idea. You can't explain to them, 'Okay, look, Fido, they're having fireworks tonight. It's nothing to be concerned about.'"
— Laurel Birmingham, Pasadena Humane Society
Last week, I went to the Pasadena Humane Society to get tips from Laurel Birmingham, the shelter's health care manager, about pets and heat waves. Laurel's back this week to help keep your dog safe and reasonably sane during fireworks season.
Guess what day is the busiest for the PHS? It's July 5, when people bring in dogs that went crazy during the fireworks and ran from home.
"Even if you think your dog is secure in your yard, once those fireworks start, a dog might jump the fence that's never jumped the fence before," Birmingham says.
Planning is key. "Get in touch with your vet before the Fourth," she says, "and you'll probably want to ask for a mild sedative for the dog." Benadryl is commonly used to calm dogs, but do a test run, Birmingham says, because in some dogs it can have the opposite effect.
For much more, including some speculation about dogs' favorite hiding place — behind your toilet — listen to the audio for my interview with Laurel.
Meantime, here are more tips from the humane society website:
- Keep pets indoors with windows and doors closed.
- Play music to help cover the noise of Fireworks (Through a Dog’s Ear CD or classical music).
- Don’t take your dog to the Fireworks display. The sounds and smells are too intense for them and not enjoyable.
- If you are home, do an activity that your dog enjoys and will take their mind of the noise outside (hide and seek, training cues, tug, fetch, etc.).
- Give dogs a bully stick or chew toy to help occupy their time.
- Before the festivities, tire your dog out by exercising them.
- Use calming spray or oils (Rescue Remedy, Calming Chews, Lavender Calming Spray).
- If your dog already uses a Thundershirt, put this on them (the Thundershirt should be put on a few days prior to the 4th in order for your dog to acclimate if they haven’t used one before).
- If you are having the party, make sure to keep human food and adult beverages out of your pet’s reach. Keep pets in a safe area of your home away from the doors that lead outside.
- Make sure your pet has updated ID tags on and they are secure on the collar.
Comedian Joan Ford on why female action heroes often fall flat
"Let's get one thing straight, ladies, the goal of this book isn't to force you into some box," reads the intro to Joan Ford's new book: Killing It: An Action Girl's Guide to Saving the World (While Looking Hot). "There could never be just one type of woman... there are actually seven types of women. Exactly seven."
Ford loves action movies, but when it comes to female action heroes, she thinks they come off pretty 2-dimensional, passive and well, dumb.
In her new book, Joan lampoons female tropes and stereotypes while still holding reverence for the action genre she loves.
In one of her first interviews as an out trans woman, Joan talked to Taylor Orci about two of her favorite things: Gender, and the end of the world.
Killing It: The Action Girl's Guide to Saving the World (While Looking Hot) from Devastator Press is out now. You can get your own copy here.
Richard Duardo: Chicano artist, mentor to Cheech, printmaker for Banksy
"Richard Duardo: Artist and Master Printmaker" is at the Muckenthaler Cultural Center in Fullerton through August 21. Admission is free.
"An artist could have no better friend than Richard... Richard had a fantastic eye. He would find artists in his travels, and he knew how to promote them. For me, he was a guide and mentor."
— Cheech Marin to the LA Times
Richard Duardo, who died suddenly in 2014 at the age of 62, was a key figure in the Chicano art movement. Not only did he make art himself — some called him the West Coast Warhol for his big colorful silkscreens of celebrities — but he became a renowned printmaker, counting David Hockney, Keith Haring and Banksy among his customers.
Duardo was born in Boyle Heights, went to high school in Highland Park, attended PCC, then got his master's degree at UCLA. He worked at the famed Self Help Graphics in Boyle Heights and opened his own printmaking shop, Modern Multiples.
The show at the Muckenthaler will include Duardo's own work, plus prints of works by John Valadez, Frank Romero, Carlos Almaraz, John Van Hamersveld, Bob Zoell, Camille Rose Garcia, Germs, Sage Vaughn, Sonia Romero, and others.
Remembering Jim Hangley, owner of Mustangs Only in Culver City
"Mustangs! The only car I've used for 45 years. Never owned a new car. Always a classic Mustang. How come? 70 options. Could order anything that I needed. Never dropped me in the street. Never dropped anyone else in the street. And they're sexy. Oh, yeah. Long hood, short deck, low to the ground. A real sporty little car."
— Mustangs Only owner Jim Hangley
James Hangley's life partner, Tracy Fietz, says he was a "unique individual" who wanted "no muss, no fuss," which may be why we only just found out that the owner of Mustangs Only in Culver City died May 26. He was 84.
Mustangs Only, at the corner of Washington and Adams, is possibly the only car lot in the world the sells, fixes, and restores solely the iconic Ford Mustang. I interviewed Jim in 2014 for the Mustang's 50th anniversary, and he told me that in 1969, the cars went for about $2,000 new. In 2014, he could get $50,000 for a restored fastback or convertible.
Fietz told me Jim was born February 8, 1932 in Omaha, Missouri, painted police cars for a time in Kansas City, and came to L.A. when he was about 18. He soon enlisted in the Army and served in Korea. He ran Jim's Auto Body on Pico in Santa Monica in his early years here.
"He always worked with Fords, and when the Mustang came out, the lightbulb went on and that was it," Fietz says.
Fietz and Hangley met when she brought her Mustang in for service when she was only 21. Jim did a good job on the car, she says, and kept after her for a couple years until she agreed to go on a date. That was 40 years ago. The couple never married and had no kids. In addition to the Mustangs, they also shared a passion for Morgan horses.
Hangley was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in September 2015, Fietz says, and opted to not treat it. He had a "relatively good quality of life up until his last few weeks." There was no funeral, no memorial, and no obit, until this one. She'll spread his ashes in the ocean in the middle of July.
Mustangs Only is now up for sale. Fietz says she plans to sell the business and property separately, unless "someone makes me an offer I can't refuse."
Listen to the first piece of audio for much more with Tracy, and check out my original 2014 interview with Hangley to get a sense of what this remarkable man was like.