Classics of Love at Barfly in London, UK on 17 May 2009 (Imelda Michalczyk)

On the upcoming, self-titled Classics of Love LP, Jesse Michaels declares, “Life is a game where you see who gets the most money/Life is a game where you see who gets the most power.” Those are some cool punk lyrics on their own but the ex-frontperson of Common Rider, Big Rig, and Operation Ivy backs up the sentiments by starting rad bands that never get played on the radio, play huge tours, or cash in. Instead, Michaels just makes totally honest, somewhat trashy, energy-packed, and supremely melodic ’70s punk-inspired music with hardcore and ska leanings. So I was stoked when our mutual friend Mike Park asked me if I wanted to contact Jesse about his band’s latest release on Asian Man Records. Cramming 13 songs into 23 minutes, its brand of raging punk channels Bad Religion (“We Need a Change”) as much as The Specials (“Castle In The Sky“). Of course, the breathless, humanist, blue-collar lyrics are pure Jesse Michaels. Here’s how the conversation went…

  Classics of Love at Barfly in London, UK on 17 May 2009 (Imelda Michalczyk)

MW: I really love the Common Rider song “Classics of Love,” with its allusions to The Clash, The Who, Desmond Dekker, Ella Fitzgerald… It’s crazy that you wrote the blueprint or theme for your current group before it existed. Or is it?
JM: When I was writing songs for what would be Common Rider in 1999, I woke up with a song in my head from a dream. It was a slow, smoky reggae song along the lines of Burning Spear. The lyrics went “The Classics of Love are from the creator/The Classics of Love are no small matter.” Whether or not that had any spiritual significance, it had a very deep and emotionally meaningful sound and the phrase stuck. I used it in the Common Rider song, which is basically an homage to music, and kind of forgot about it.

I am pretty sure that it was our drummer who proposed it as a band name. For about two years, I regretted using it. Classics of Love is a bit sweet, you know? But we play music with anger in it, and now I am happy that the music is framed by a soft name. I don’t want to put more anger out in the world without also giving a nod to what is really important–love and forgiveness.

MW: I think it’s natural to have idealistic and revolutionary thoughts when you’re a young punker in your first or second band, and I was stoked to hear ample amounts of both on the new LP. How did you retain them after all the ups, downs, and detours?
JM: I really don’t know, but I rebel against punk’s smallness and narrow-mindedness just as much as I rebel against society’s larger forces. In terms of writing a song, the revolutionary spirit is something very real and alive for me. It comes from a sense of right and wrong, which comes from having a conscience. The world is quite damaged and the rich have always ground the poor under their heels, so I always want to do something political.

One thing I would like to point out is that although I receive a lot of credit for writing songs, the music is collaborative. I bring in all sorts of songs and go in whatever direction works. The direction comes from the people I am playing with, and the songs would be less than nothing without their bringing them to life. And that isn’t false modesty; that’s just the way it really is. For Classics of Love, punk works the best.

MW: You’ve been making music for a couple of decades. Are you the type of guy who is compelled to make music? Like you can’t sleep unless you crank something out? Or is it a struggle to get going when the time comes? Do you have a technique?
JM: It’s inconsistent, but when I feel inspired I get possessed. A typical scenario is that I’m bored and just going through life when I get involved with a little music just for fun. Then the fever takes over and I’ll work on stuff for hours without noticing the time passing. It’s like an altered state but it’s not one that I’m married to. It’s not my identity and it’s not the most important thing in my life. But when I’m in it, I am extremely passionate about it.

My technique is to start with a guitar riff, then make a la-la-la vocal pattern with a chorus, and finally hammer out the lyrics in a separate process. Lyrics take hours and hours; the other part is pretty quick.

One of the reasons I didn’t write much stuff in my twenties is that working on music was so overwhelming I would be miserable and depressed afterward. I think that’s why some of the most inspired songwriters get addicted to drugs; the process can be soul destroying. If that sounds dramatic, it probably is. But that’s how it goes down at least some of the time.

MW: How have your solo gigs affected your being a front person for a band?
JM: My three or four solo gigs taught me that I need help. I liked playing solo, but it is super challenging. The main thing is that I never learned the basic up-and-down strum, which is totally essential for singer-songwriter stuff. Even on the notes where you aren’t actually playing something, the hand always has to be going up and down. That sounds small but it’s huge. Although you can get along without it, you’re going to be limited.

Struggling with guitar and feeling the absence of bandmates gave me perspective on how much I depend on others to make music that really works. Maybe if I had kept doing it I would have overcome some of those problems, but I don’t think it’s my calling. For me, the magic happens in the practice room with other people more than it does in my bedroom with a four-track.

MW: Do you look at your body of work as having any sort of flow or evolution? Or do you see it as random and all over the place? Maybe it’s still too early to say.
JM: Unfortunately my body of work is kind of a mess. I have taken 10-year breaks, I hate touring, and I don’t really know how to play an instrument. It’s a miracle I that have done as much as I have. On the other hand, I know that when I have something to say with music, I get totally possessed by it. In that way, maybe I’m kind of a savant.

I’ve played with a lot of people who are more professional and consistent, and I’m astounded by their apathy. You’re in the middle of writing a song–which to me is more important than life or death–and they start fucking around with their fucking phone or talking about video games or something. I want to kill them. But they must be astounded at how I’m supposedly so passionate but then disappear and sit on my ass for five years.

So the answer is that my body of work is ridiculously streaky. But when I’m doing it, I really mean it, man!

MW: Mike Park is a good guy and must be a pleasure to work with. I only see or correspond with him now and then, but when we do the topic inevitably turns to basketball trash talk. Do you talk to him more about music or hoops? Are you a Bay Area homer like he is?
JM: Mike Park is one of the most infuriating people I have ever met. He comes over to my house all the time, shows me wads of cash, and says, “Alkaline Trio, baby! Fuck you, Michaels!” Then he starts eating all my food and complaining about how hard his life is. He clogs up the toilet every time and then screams at me for being too cheap to have good plumbing.

And we always end up on the court. Mike is 7 feet tall and you would think his height would be enough of an advantage, but he cheats. He elbows me and throws dirt in my face. The last time we played, he kept saying he was Kareem and I was The White Shadow. He beat me 21 to 3.

So, yeah, Mike is a great guy and I’m not saying don’t let him in your house. But if he knocks pretend you are not home.

I like the NBA, too, although I don’t think that there should be artificially created dynasties. Every team should have the exact same amount of money to work with and officials should not favor the home team or marquee players. But even though the league is totally corrupt, it’s such a great game that it’s still fun to watch. My favorite players of all time are Abdul-Jabbar, Olajuwon, and Garnett. I know Garnett is kind of a bully, but I love the way he moves. It’s extremely artistic to me, what these guys do.

I am definitely a Warriors fan. I love them so much that I still believe they can win the 2007 championship. This season, we need Chris Mullen to rip off his suit during a tight fourth quarter, come out in short shorts, and start dropping Js: “I’ll show you guys how it’s done!” That would make my life and that is what I need from basketball so I can heal from how lame Jack Nicholson and Jessica Alba’s team is.

By the way, the weird guy who sits next to Jack Nicholson at Lakers games is the director of the cult punk classic Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains. My mind was blown when I found that out!

  Just some 7"s laying around.

Check out Classics of Love at their myspace page and pre-order the new LP from Asian Man Records. You can also look for it to show up at your local cool record store on February 14.

  Wolves in the Throne Room at The Echoplex (January 26, 2012)

It’s about time I checked out some bands that I haven’t seen a million times before. On Thursday, I finally got to see Wolves in the Throne Room. The Washingtonians famously play ecologically inspired black metal on vintage gear by candlelight. Oh yeah, they also play a contemplative and mind-blowing blend of drone and thrash. Super dark, extremely heavy, and much more riff-oriented live than on vinyl. Who knew sage and smoke machines could go together so well? Sadly, after waiting in line outside for so long I only caught the last song by Chelsea Wolfe and totally missed Hive Mind with Harrassor.

  Wolves in the Throne Room at The Echoplex (January 26, 2012)

On Saturday night at The Echo, I went to see my friend/comedian/musician/Zum master George Chen play The Smell with KIT. We arrived just in time to see some of Peter Pants, one of the bands invited by comedian/actress/musician Charlyne Yi to play with her latest group Keychain. (Sorry, Colleagues.) The Pants played a super-fun brand of garage punk with fuzzy licks. Fun happened to be the common denominator at this particular evening’s grouping.

  Peter Pants at The Smell (January 28, 2012)

Next up was George’s band, KIT. The group’s last album was totally spastic yet tight, arty yet rocking, hyper yet sweet. Yes, they pull it off live. And after 10 years, they are an art-rock machine. One that only plays all-ages shows.

  KIT at The Smell (January 28, 2012)

But while each member is a total monster at what he or she does, it’s obvious that they’re always having fun. Look up their amazing “Rain” video on YouTube. Somehow, they replicate that precision and sense of humor onstage–or on the floor even. It probably didn’t hurt that a lot of the friends and extras from that clip were actually there. KIT doesn’t play often, so see them when you can.

  KIT at The Smell (January 28, 2012)

Charlyne’s new band isn’t no joke. With one of the guys from Moses Campbell and the drummer from So Many Wizards, there’s a ton of chops involved in Keychain. The songs are short, sweet, and extraordinarily catchy with equally impressively awkward banter in between. Whoop! Over, out, and on the streets before midnight.

  Keychain at The Smell (January 28, 2012)

Go out and see a show. Maybe we'll run into each other and you can buy me a Coke!

Kay Sage (United States, 1898-1963)

Yesterday, I was invited to attend a preview of In Wonderland: Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists in Mexico and the United States at LACMA. The show is the first of its kind, defying the traditional presentation of female surreal artists as merely wives and mistresses. It also conveys how the art movement was able to reach new heights in North America, where gender barriers were being broken more quickly than in Europe and additional inspiration and energy was coming from Central America.

Maya Deren (Ukraine, 1917-1961)

Using the Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland as a symbolic starting point, the exhibition collects 175 pieces by 47 artists, mixing big names (Kahlo, Tanning, Miller) with lesser-known ones. Walking through the exhibit, one can see the artwork mutate from essentially traditional pieces with surreal themes to deconstructed ones with political messages.

Muriel Streeter (United States, 1913-1995)

At the same time, one  can observe the styles and subject matter of artists in the United States and Mexico come closer together, commingle, and grow. Traditional European topics such as the game of chess and the bright colors associated with Central American culture mutate and give way to new and hybrid forms.

Rosa Rolanda (United States, 1895-1970)

Amidst the change, certain themes recur. Both European and Central American takes on masquerading are shown in full force. As the artists and the movement collect steam, the masks transform from something whimsical or sometimes magical into a source of power and symbol of threat to the mainstream.

Lee Miller (United States, 1907-1977)

Curators Dr. Ilene Susan Fort (LACMA) and Tere Arcq (Mexico City’s Museo de Arte Modferno) build such themes and make links between artists, countries, and cultures subtly and effectively. They sharply and respectfully provide pieces of a puzzle rather than force broad strokes upon an extensive and multifaceted subject.

Remedios Varo (Spain, 1908-1963)

One wall depicts women fading into their respective homes. The cultural touchstones, forms of media, and decades of creation were different, but the messages similar.

Francesca Woodman (United States, 1958-1981)

The layout itself reinforced the surreal theme, with angular walls dividing areas that one can be easily missed or reveal themselves depending on the visitor’s perspective.

In Wonderland: Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists in Mexico and the United States

The use of ropes to cordon off and stitch together sections hinted at the ties between cultures and artists as well as the mixed-and-matched media.

Dorothea Tanning (United States, b. 1910)

At the farthest point of the exhibition is a hall where portraits are blown up on a large wall. This is the only point with a window to the “real world,” and an appropriate spot for a desk with catalogs to put the pieces in context–although I plan on returning to check out the audio accompaniment nonetheless.

In Wonderland: Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists in Mexico and the United States

Beginning with tweaked, tortured, and loaded portraiture and landscapes, the show explodes into paper, sculpture, and photography–not to mention a letter in which Dorothea Tanning describes her dreams to Joseph Cornell and ends by saying something like, “Max Ernst says hi.”

Gertrude Abercrombie (United States, 1909-1977)

One of the final pieces is a photograph of a Happening that shows the movement’s effect on the Women’s Liberation Movement (and eventually the Riot Grrrl scene). The gathering of naked hippies in Central Park happens to take place by an Alice in Wonderland statue, providing a perfect bookend to a comprehensive exhibition.

Yayoi Kusama (Japan, b. 1929)

In Wonderland: The Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists in Mexico and the United States runs from January 29 to May 6, 2012 and is as inspiring as it is extensive and awesome. And if you’re a member, you can probably see it in advance…

Left to right: Bertha Cea, Senior Cultural Affairs Adviser, U.S. Embassy in Mexico City; Haydé Zavala, Director of International Affairs, Instituto Nacional del Bellas Artes y Literatura (INBA); Tere Arcq, Adjunct Curator, Museo de Arte Moderno (MAM), Mexico City; Teresa Vicencio, Director General, Instituto Nacional del Bellas Artes y Literatura (INBA); Ilene Fort, Curator of American Art, LACMA; Michael Govan, CEO and Director, LACMA

Boy with Red Mountain, 2012, 11" x 11.5", Acrylic on Paper

I first stalked Miran Kim at Comic-Con way back in 1997 and justified it by writing an article about her in Giant Robot 8. It was awesome to have met Miran in that early stage of her career, when she was best known for painting doom-and-gloom covers of The X Files and The Crow. Among the topics we covered were being uprooted from Manhattan to the Kidnapping Capital of Asia (a.k.a. Seoul), working for The Man (a.k.a. Fox), and having fans that range from paranormal believers to death metallers. Too bad the pages of GR were still on newsprint in B&W because no one could paint bruises, stitches, or organs as well as Miran.

Somehow, I made the transition from Miran’s fan to friend and we’ve kept in touch. So I was stoked to find out she has a solo show of personal work that will open at Galerie Petits Papiers in Paris, France, on February 2. Her latest work is shockingly colorful yet as dark as ever, treating the human body as not only a bag of guts but a vessel for cosmic energy that takes form in the most surprising of colors. Here’s what Miran has to say.

Bellatrix - Second Brightest Star, 2011, 24" x 36", Acrylic on canvas

MW: Wow. How did a show in Paris happen?

MK : Through a series of divine introductions: Jim Salicrup (Chief Editor at papercutz a.k.a. Topps Editor on X-Files comics) introduces me to David Mack (Kabuki comics creator) introduces Carl Wyckaert (influential art collector and curator in Europe) introduces Alian Huberty (Galerie Petits Papiers). People work in mysterious ways. I am very thankful for this wonderful event.

MW: Your newer work is so much more colorful than it was when I met you. Can you talk about how you’re using color?

MK: I always loved colorful things as a child and it has captured my interest again as a grown-up. There are so many ways to arrange colors to affect our optic experience and I enjoy the powerful creative communication it provides when I make art. The beauty of each hue is indefinable.

Boy in the Water, 2011, 36" x 48", Acrylic on canvas

MW: Yet the themes are still quite dark. Are you Goth for life?

MK: The connection I feel to the darkness is like being granted special access to the underworld. Colorful things can glow better in the dark, and illumination of life in the dark can be a powerful image. It fascinates me to discover and bring to the surface beauty from dark spaces. Dark space still awakens savage feelings in my heart but in more colorful ways now. Yes, I am Goth for life!

MW: Where do the faces come from? Friends? Photos? Imagination?

MK: Faces come from thousand of ghosts hidden within my cells, flowers that live in my neighborhood, and feelings that I receive from the reward of love. They come from outside and personal spaces, and all characters enhance my story-telling world.

Garden of Peppermint Candy Man, 2011, 14" x 18", Acrylic on canvas

MW: Does every piece have a story in it?

MK: Some pieces begin with specific thought and intention. Other paintings surprise me with their stories. Unconscious and unexpected thoughts and feelings show up at my door daily and I try to capture them without editing too much.

MW: Can you tell me about the old days doing work on The X Files and The Crow? How did those jobs affect your development as a fine artist?

MK: The X-Files comic book project was a very cool gig. I am forever affected by the paranormal stories I read, and I loved every moment of it. What can I say about The Crow? It is still hatching with powerful love stories and it was an honor to partake in the epic drama. It pushed open the doors of my imagination as an artist to entertain some of the weirdest and emotional thoughts available in comic book stories. The experience taught me to patiently describe whole life without prejudice.

Sirius Moment, 2011, 14" x 24", Acrylic on canvas

MW: Besides me, are there many fanboys that still bring up your old work these days?

MK: You are the one and only remaining fanboy living in the ’90s! Although from time to time I run into some X-Files fan who reminds me that the “the truth is still out there”…

Find out more about Miran at boyinthewater.com and visit Galerie Petits Papiers, too.

Last night I went to the member’s preview of Breaking Ground: Chinese American Architects in Los Angeles (1945-1980) at the Chinese American Museum. The Pacific Standard Time-affiliated show’s topic is self-explanatory and very cool, showcasing styles from Googie to Modernist with some photography by Julius Shulman.

The first floor was dedicated to Gin D. Wong (b. 1922). Glancing up from the short, informative, and impressive video, I noticed that the man was actually in the room. When he stepped away from his family to revisit some of his work, I asked for a quick photo.

If you live in Los Angeles or have even visited it, you’ve seen Wong’s work at LAX–an appropriate job since he decided to become an architect while serving in the Air Force during WWII. Other major works include CBS Television City on Melrose and Fairfax and the iconic Transamerica building in San Francisco.

The upstairs gallery features the work of three other architects. Immediately, I saw the drawings of the Bank of America located right up the street in Chinatown. Gilbert Leong (1911-1996) was responsible for many of Chinatown’s most-loved buildings, including the first Phoenix Bakery and the Kong Chow Association building.

When he wasn’t doing themed projects in Chinatown, Leong sculpted fine art and designed affordable, Modernist-leaning tract homes in the suburbs. I thought it was as nice as it was important that the curators showed his non-Oriental work.

The work of Helen Liu Fong (1927-2005) enjoy the most unique presentation. The Googie style of coffee-shop architecture that she helped develop (as seen at Pann’s in Westchester or Norm’s on La Cienega) are exhibited via vintage, eye-popping 3-D viewers. Looking into them is truly like traveling back in time.

There are also artifacts from the Holiday Bowl, where she decorated the cocktail lounge. The Crenshaw landmark was a J.A. hot-spot that was also frequented by African Americans and Chinese Americans in the area. I looked for my parents’ names on the scorecard but was disappointed.

Although the personal residence of Eugene Kinn Choy (1912-1991) was eventually featured in magazines for its tasteful Modernist style, the architect had to overcome discrimination from neighbors and banks to build it on a Silver Lake hillside lot. His part of the exhibit showed the invitation to his open house, photos of the family lounging in the swank backyard, and nice pieces of Danish Modern furniture.

On the way home we drove by one of Choy’s commercial projects. I’ve always liked the Cathay Bank building’s understated blend of Modernist ideas with traditional Chinese aesthetics, and now I better understand why. The show is worth seeing because it adds information and appreciation to buildings that many of us have grown up with or see every day. And you don’t have to live in a Silver Lake home that was renovated by a Chinese American architect to get that–although it probably doesn’t hurt.