I walked toward the bungalow on the far left because that’s where Geometry class was being held. We had bungalows at our school, next to the last remaining orange groves in the San Fernando Valley, because our real high school location was still under construction after the 1994 earthquake. Yes. I had classes [...]]]> March 9 2010

I walked toward the bungalow on the far left because that’s where Geometry class was being held. We had bungalows at our school, next to the last remaining orange groves in the San Fernando Valley, because our real high school location was still under construction after the 1994 earthquake. Yes. I had classes in bungalows that reeked when it was hot and turned into iceboxes when it was cold.

The door was shut and I didn’t really know anyone. I looked around and saw a guy walking in between two bungalows, carrying a guitar and strumming. A wire was dangling from his hip like a pachuco’s wallet chain, instead it was a wire connected to a mini-Fender amp strapped to his belt. I heard a distorted, violent and – quite frankly – terrifying version of La Bamba; the sound made me cringe a bit, but then I smiled when I recognized the tune.

This is my first memory of Manny. I was 13, impressionable, nerdy, chubby, but completely awed by this 14-year-old kid who was about to enter my Geometry class with a guitar and amp. Anxiety would fill my body when I had to wear school pants that were slightly dirty and I didn’t have time to wash them, but this kid – shy, with unrestrained confidence – was teaching me a new set of rules, one strum at a time.

Manny went on to teach just about every single friend I have how to play guitar. Some of us still need a lot of work. He’s also a great artist and designer. Above, Manny and the mural he designed and painted in Los Angeles, Ca.

For some people, stage fright just doesn’t exist.

I remember sitting in my cousin Javi’s room, ransacking his Art Laboe and Eastside Story cassettes, finding his Funk CDs and listening to this track over and over and over again. I was eight. I’d never seen the video to this song until finding it last night. Pop and lock, foo…and have a nice day.

The memory is vague, but the last time I visited Sunset Junction to see Elliott Smith’s iconic “Figure 8” album cover location, I was with Manny. I do remember thinking how special it was that fan’s notes to the late songwriter were visible for everyone to read. The location, like many murals around [...]]]> March 7 2010

The memory is vague, but the last time I visited Sunset Junction to see Elliott Smith’s iconic “Figure 8” album cover location, I was with Manny. I do remember thinking how special it was that fan’s notes to the late songwriter were visible for everyone to read. The location, like many murals around Los Angeles, became a tribute to the artist.

I mentioned to my visiting coworkers if they wanted to see it and they jumped at the chance. It was around midnight, but we had all the elements involved to create a small adventure. Visitors were heading back to New York City, we were all Elliott Smith fans and we were giddy. We took Alvardo from Wilshire to Sunset, made a left and drove. I saw the McDonald’s near the site from a few blocks away, and there it was, except it wasn’t.

The notes are now covered by giant slabs of paint brushed incoherently and rudimentary. The iconic navy and blue swirls can be seen, but they’ve been submerged. Maybe this is the natural course of a public space, but really it’s a reminder that everyone is erased sooner or later. I think today was the first day I ever cursed graffiti.

Dark clouds hovered overhead and the parking lot was slick and wet, but they continued to beat their drums and stomp their feet. They danced for seven hours, even when the rains came and the people had gone. Above, Aztec dancers in the East Los Angeles Public Library parking lot.

My tío Francisco – a person I’ve never know as my “tío Francisco”, but more commonly known simply as “Pancho” – turned 70-years-old yesterday. He’s the eldest of the five De La Cruz brothers and has one of the heartiest laughs around. His laugh is the signature to his persona. The other characteristic [...]]]> March 5 2010

My tío Francisco – a person I’ve never know as my “tío Francisco”, but more commonly known simply as “Pancho” – turned 70-years-old yesterday. He’s the eldest of the five De La Cruz brothers and has one of the heartiest laughs around. His laugh is the signature to his persona. The other characteristic I find notorious is his welcome shrug. It’s the type of body language that says “Ay, paisano, how you doin?”, or “Que onda, mano? Como estas?” I don’t ever think of Pancho without picturing him tilt his head slightly toward the sky, drop his eyes under his frames, shrug his shoulders, lift his hands and say “Ey…que pasa, mijo?” My reply is usually “Nada, tío.” To which, like the gloom coming in around the late Spring months in Los Angeles, it’s a certainty my uncle will reply “Nada mucho?”

The kids in our family love Pancho because he’s always there to give them a treat, lift them on his shoulders, and then chase them around. He’s also the only one in the family with a pool. Happy Birthday, Pancho.

Mexico Vs New Zealand from Alejandro De La Cruz on Vimeo.

I’m not sure the hands are right, but the hats surely are.

We were donning lucha libre masks when we arrived at the gates of the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, Ca. The security guard told us they were not allowed and we agreed to take them off. 90k fans had already made their way in, but a few thousand were still converging on the stadium [...]]]> March 3 2010

We were donning lucha libre masks when we arrived at the gates of the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, Ca. The security guard told us they were not allowed and we agreed to take them off. 90k fans had already made their way in, but a few thousand were still converging on the stadium after sitting in traffic for more than an hour. We’d missed the entire first half of the Mexico/New Zealand matchup, but the score was 0-0 so we hadn’t missed much. We grabbed a few quick tacos and made our way toward section 7-H row 39.

“Nadie puede ver, como creen que van a ver con esas mascaras?” “No one can see. How do you think you’ll see through those masks?”

The atmosphere was festive and tense. We finally approached our tunnel; the screams of almost one-hundred thousand boisterous soccer fans lured us to get closer. “Stay close, man. I can’t find my ticket”, said Osito. We were stuck behind hundreds of fans trying to find their seats for the second half. Finally the floodgates opened, Osito found his ticket and we made our way in only to find our seats were taken by a family who had their seats taken.

Security guards were called away from other pressing matters, I locked eyes on the field, people yelled at us to sit down, the family was angry but we finally made it to our seats. Another minute had passed and the crowds rose, Mexican player Javier Hernandez flew through the air and snapped his head against an on-coming volley. The place erupted.

The roar of 90K soccer fans cheering for their team is a sound to behold. Like a sonic boom, the flex in power of this sound is awesome. Good thing there isn’t a need to travel South of the border to hear this. The fans in LA are well equipped to create it.

Director and producer Tamra Davis shot footage of New York City artist Jean-Michel Basquiat in the late 1980’s before the artist died of a drug overdose. After 20 years, she’s revealing her archives to the world in a new documentary called “The Radiant Child.” The trailer above speaks for itself and, quite frankly, I’m emotional [...]]]>

Director and producer Tamra Davis shot footage of New York City artist Jean-Michel Basquiat in the late 1980’s before the artist died of a drug overdose. After 20 years, she’s revealing her archives to the world in a new documentary called “The Radiant Child.” The trailer above speaks for itself and, quite frankly, I’m emotional about what this new documentary may hold.

Basquiat was more complicated than the drugs, relationships and fame he was known for. His charisma involved a complex identity, a serious appreciation and love for culture and a thoughtfulness the like seen in this final episode interview from State of the Art.

I’m not sure about the film’s release but Arthouse Films is distributing. Updates soon to come.

via FF