The last organic instrument I tried playing was a ukulele. When I say organic, I mean, non-amplified, non-electric, non-digital. In Costa Rica that dream was shattered, along with the Ukulele, in a strange shamanic ritual involving some green tree frogs and lots of Cuba Libres. Wait, maybe I should start from the beginning here. This piece is perhaps about my oldest, unrealized passion: creating music and sound. Yes, all those that know me well, know not that, really, truly, I want to be a musician. In middle school I tried the viola. That stint lasted about two weeks, in which time my parents declared me talentless and thus, I lost my motivation to try and live out my dream.

Yes, as is almost always the case, it was all my parents fault. Had this happened a few years later, perhaps I would have rebelled, just for the sheer pleasure of rebelling against my beloved family, and subsequently, society at large. But, that didn’t happen and I was forced, for years, to live in denial, in repression, in the shadows of my unrealized dreams. However, all that was about to change in the month of April of 2011.

This is the place, the space, loyal reader, where I shall reveal the most formal, all encompassing, intrinsic truth about all of the 6.8 billion inhabitants of this world. I hope you are ready to confront yourself because here it is – EVERYONE WANTS TO BE A ROCK STAR! Everyone! Even your toothless grandma, your gay uncle, and that terrorist next door, Osama Bin Laden. Especially your Gay Uncle. Everything you do in life is just a compensation because you are not a Rock Star. Trust me. I meditate for 12 minutes a day. I’m giving you the facts. Here is how I confronted my own self deception and how you can too.

All those bongos, ukuleles, flutes, pianos, and such just weren’t for me. They required formal musical training and time, which I had squandered because my parents didn’t believe in me. From high school on I wanted to be a DJ. I envied those that could mix music live, that could scratch, and make mixtapes. But all that equipment was pricey and my parents just laughed at me. I tried to make them believe by making mixtapes using an old dual cassette tape JVC boom box, but that just added more resentment towards me. No immigrant son of theirs was going to do something so preposterous.
Later when I had a chance to practice on some decks, I discovered how hard it was and realized that I had squandered the time it takes to become a DJ. Such is life, huh bub?

my parents, or should I say, dream crushers.

No, if I was to make music it had to be with something I could understand, something cerebral and self-organizing, something with it’s own computing power. Flash forward to present day. I had heard of these things called,”apps” and as luck would have it I inherited a machine called the, “Ipad” that utilized these apps to run all sorts of tasks.

Searching through the musical apps, I came across The Electribe by Korg. For only $9.99 I could have a digital version of The Korg Electribe R released in 1999 as a dedicated electronic drum machine. What does it do I wondered? As I manipulated the Ipad’s touch screen, I discovered in no time this explanation which magically entered my mind: the sound is generated by digital signal processor circuits but can be manipulated in realtime (analog modeling synthesizer principle). No shit. Needless to say, in one fell swoop I had entered the music making arena. For the first time ever, I felt confident that time was relative and that dreams do come true for little manboys who dare to dream.

Adventures in the Electric Tribe pt1 by freakcast

When Zarah a.k.a VJ Lady Firefly, told me that she was devising a project that involved beaming media into space, my mind ran amok. So many possibilities and so little time. Then again, time may only be an invented concept. Nothing is real, everything is permitted…

“On April 15, 16, and 17, a series of sonic, visual, and kinetic performances will be created into virtual time capsules for broadcast to outer space.  It is one of the few space broadcasts created by artists from all walks of life, without affiliations to government, military, or educational institutions.  Designed to be received by extraterrestrial life,Time Capsules to Space is an artistic and sociological collection of human interpretations regarding life on Earth as the Earth itself continues on a path of accelerating and irreversible change. What would people “send off” to space given the opportunity?

Transmission #1 takes place at Here in New York City. Each night calls for a select group of artists, aka Astronauts, to celebrate a different time of earth through their performances. The 1st night celebrates the Past, the 2nd night the Present, the 3rd night the Future. From audiovisual jams, to stick fighting demonstrations, to dance performances, each artist is asked to create a specific piece for the specific purposes of the broadcast.  Audiences have the opportunity to participate by leaving written messages through the website as well as leaving video messages immediately after the show.”

After much soul searching, Laugh Years Light Trax, became the undertaking that Nick Shifrin, Lucinda Lin, and myself, FreakCast, decided upon.

We are looking to stimulate and record human laughter, both with video and audio devices. Then, during the live performance, to both condense and amplify these recordings via the use of audio and video processing.

Using the live mix of audio and video, Lulu, will be reinterpreting the live mix with a dance-tickle-theatre performance. She will be clad in her own hand designed plastic bag macramé costume echoing the Heyoka traditions.

Laughter for more reasons than can be listed here seems to be the most obvious form of democratic, healing, “absolute” communication that exists beyond even our own species. There is almost nothing negative that can be derived from laughter and that is the message we would like to send.

The major question is, if this is a universal vessel of communication on earth between the human species and beyond, will extraterrestrial-unidentified

life forms understand what we regard as “fundamental” communication?

Starting out as a kid in rural North Carolina, Jason Bryant turned a fascination with drawing into a love for painting. Previously working as an assistant for Kehinde Wiley, Jason’s work often explores the person we are, as well as the people we pretend to be. His newest pieces, featured in this exhibition, are challengingly familiar, in a way that can often be difficult to place. Maybe you’re certain who they’re meant to be… until you suddenly realize that you don’t know them at all!

Allison Edge carries a sense of nostalgia in her work. With her command of light, she creates a mood that feels like a memory, like a happy fiction now become fact. Previously working as an assistant for Jeff Koons and McDermott & McGough, Allison carries a great love for her craft, and fans of her solo show Crystal Days will certainly want to revisit her work here.

Quebec-born Ross Racine has shown extensively across the United States and Canada. His “digital drawings” are hand-drawn directly by computer, creating communities that could be taken from some otherworldly Mapquest. They are in no way photographs, yet still carry a convincing feel, leaving you with the assumption that someone, somewhere, has been to see these communities in person.

For Sales or other inquiries please contact:

info@likethespice.com

or

art@panmanproductions.com

Roger Smith Hotel

16th Fl. Solarium Gallery

Friday. February 26th

Starts 7pm-10pm

After Party TBD

Admission: FREE

Come one and bring all. We are having the long awaited art opening party for both the Kevin Garcia, “One in Many” show, and the Pedro Sousa, “Traveler” Show.  The Roger Smith Hotel has been gracious enough to offer a $99 room special for the next 10 days starting on Feb 23, 2010. Lily’s will be providing appetizers and a full cash bar, if you are also interested in having dinner we advise that you make reservations before the opening. There is a 10% off dinner special for anyone attending the opening (please notify your waiter when you are seated).

To learn more about the artists and the shows here are some links:

Kevin Garcia, “One in Many”

Pedro Sousa, “Traveler”

* all art is for sale. inquiries can be made in person at the opening to John Knowles or Aleks Degtyarev or via email to art@panmanproductions.com.

Thank you and hope to see everyone there.

February 21, 2010 7pm-12am

Roger Smith Hotel | 501 Lexington Ave. New York, NY

16th Floor Solarium Gallery

$20 suggested donation

Half-to-Help has teamed up with the Roger Smith Hotel, Panman Productions, and Action Against Hunger | ACF-USA to bring you our first Haiti relief art show and concert. The benefit will begin at 7pm. Musicians Margot Leverett and the Klezmer Mountain Boys and Charlene Kaye will be performing. Exhibiting artists include Carl Avidano, Lazarus Nazario, and Shawn Taylor. The artists are donating half of the net proceeds from any art sale to support Haiti earthquake survivors via Action Against Hunger | ACF-USA. $20 suggested donation at the door. 100% of suggested donations will go to Action Against Hunger | ACF-USA for Haiti relief.

Live Video Performance  collaboration by FreakCast.

Music:

Margot Leverett and the Klezmer Mountain Boys

Charlene Kaye

Artists:

Carl Avidano

Lazarus Nazario

Sponsors:

Half-to-Help

Action Against Hunger | ACF-USA

Roger Smith Hotel

Live Video:

FreakCast

Panman

By Victor Reznik

There’s no better way to re-create than to destroy, and there’s no better way to figure out what’s right than by doing something wrong.

The indigenous culture of young artists in Miami maintains a strong front, but when push comes to shove, the infrastructure to produce projects year round, or to fund an industry at all, is completely lacking. The artistic brain drain decimates the community of local talent here. The invasion of Art Basel, the convention itself, the fairs, tents, and the on-going circus caravan that accompanied it made all the locals a bit jittery—like if the contestants on Flavor of Love were told to eat each other. When Basel first came to Miami it was a buying frenzy. Artists and gallery owners made skyrocketing profits from compulsory sales fueled by booze and “beautiful people.” This year was slow; the economy was bad. The disillusion of hope without change was sinking in among the young artists, and the realities of double digit unemployment rates still lingered.

When I came back to New York everyone wanted to know about the “indie stuff”. I don’t know what that means anymore.

Luke popped the Tacoma over a curb and rode into an abandoned lot that had been appropriated by young entrepreneurs.

“Ten to park,” the man with denim shorts and timberland boots barked at Luke.

“I’ll give you five man, ain’t nobody own this land!”

The hustle began, “Boy it’s not about me, if the boss comes and the count wrong, I get in trouble, feel me?”

This might have been true, and I was tired.

I gave the young “employee” the ten dollars and Luke gave me the type of sideways glance a little brother gets when he’s about to stumble into advice.

“Man everything here is a hustle. I become addicted to it, especially after launching Borscht. Nobody will give you anything here, they’ll try and get as much as possible though.”

On the way into the club a man on a bike came up to us with two lime green wrist bands in his hand, “they’re selling at the door for $30 I’ll give you two for $10.”

There was no cover at the door.

Miami’s skyline is low to the ground to protect against hurricanes. The landscape is like a pastiche of flat rectangular warehouses. I saw a young woman at a bar, wearing heels riding on a skateboard. That didn’t last long. I watched as she fell flat on her face. This didn’t compromise her standing with dudes wearing fedoras and tweed jackets as I spotted her making out with a guy that fit that description.

Everywhere we went Luke would run into someone he knew, every bar or fair he would find someone he recognized or had worked with. On this night Luke introduced me to a Bolivian friend of his who was part owner of a gallery in the design district. The tallest Bolivian I had ever seen, mind you (and I have been to Bolivia). The Bolivian was standing with an Aussie and an American both sporty and charming. The Bolivian’s friends worked for the Knight Foundation, an influential non-profit that signs big checks for community projects. The Aussie had his shit together, he was the kind of guy who could steal your girlfriend and you’d have to forgive him. The Knight Foundation is the chief donor of funds to the Miami Cinema Center. Neither of these organizations produces any art, but they act as gatekeepers to funds that produce independent cinema in Miami.

The Aussie knew the Borscht festival and seemed proud of it, even, down-right-giddy at times, asking questions that revealed his appreciation for what he had attended. I imagine this would be the type of reaction a De Medici would give before bestowing patronage on some young swordsman who could wield a paintbrush too. What was lost on the Australian, is the fact that two weeks after that conversation took place nearly every member of the collective that brought that festival night to fruition would be in self imposed exile working in a market that couldn’t offer to pay them enough to move out of their parents house. I began to wonder how Luke felt about all of this?

I lost my sensitivity to what I was seeing after the second day, it seemed like the whole city was experiencing a collective hangover. Excess in every sense, the shock of too many people, too many vehicles, too many egos, too many hustles, too many drugs, too many artists, too many stories, too many ways to get robbed, too many ways to get rich, too many ways to get laid, too many judgments, too many Benz’s and too many Beanies for eighty five degree weather!

We stopped to get burritos before I flew out. I don’t remember the name of the place, but it was in a freshly hardscaped strip mall, the rows of cooks hurriedly assembled fish tacos. The spot was in an identity crisis, Luke said, “This place wishes it was the mexican P.F. Changs”. An independently operated business supporting the local community that consciously tried to model itself after corporate restaurants. As we waited in line that stretched to the street the skies opened up, and a dark inky rain drowned us without any protection. I didn’t know if my flight would take off. I asked Luke if he could ever be a successful film maker without being rich, he told me, “not selling out is ridiculous, that money is there, if I’m not going to take it someone else would be happy to.”

With help from Panman A.K.A John Knowles & Abi Prince A.K.A Fire Monster FreakCast and Lulu will embark on their next live show venture @ Fresh Long Island.

Check it out:

FRESH presents: Electric Womb (Cycle One)

February 4, 2010

@ Toast

242 East Main Street

Port Jefferson, NY, 11777m

7pm – 11pm

For more Info contact: FreakCast.tv@gmail.com

Electric Womb

By FreakCast and Happymooncake

We may all be living inside of what we refer to as an Electric Womb. This is both a negative as well as a positive space. To explain this we choose the allegory of the internet as one example of an abstraction that is both tangible and intangible at once: an ever evolving fabric, made of fibers, to create and over all expression that maybe as of yet impossible to shoot out from and see from all sides (at least for us). It has been regarded as a “world wide web” in which we live and communicate through, where we garner platitudes of sustenance from and find it evermore difficult to separate our lives away from this space (be it negative or positive.)

New generations are being born into this space every day and they, unlike our generation, may never know through actual experience what it is like without this fabric, this web.

What does this mean for us? This is the first question.

Science tells us that electricity exists. If you type in “electricity” into google the first response in the search will be the wiki entry for electricity.

It states: Electricity (from the New Latin ?lectricus, “amber-like”[a]) is a general term that encompasses a variety of phenomena resulting from the presence and flow of electric charge. These include many easily recognizable phenomena, such as lightning and static electricity, but in addition, less familiar concepts, such as the electromagnetic field and electromagnetic induction.
In general usage, the word “electricity” is adequate to refer to a number of physical effects. In scientific usage, however, the term is vague, and these related, but distinct, concepts are better identified by more precise terms:

Electric charge – a property of some subatomic particles, which determines their electromagnetic interactions. Electrically charged matter is influenced by, and produces, electromagnetic fields.

Electric current – a movement or flow of electrically charged particles, typically measured in amperes.

Electric field – an influence produced by an electric charge on other charges in its vicinity.

Electric potential – the capacity of an electric field to do work on an electric charge, typically measured in volts.

Electromagnetism – a fundamental interaction between the magnetic field and the presence and motion of an electric charge.

What is most interesting here could be that science (if science is an entity of knowledge) refers to electricity as a phenomenon. A meditation on this will lead any thinker to several smiling revelations. But that should not be vastly important. The fact remains, the human/animal body has always been induced by this phenomenon which has inevitably connected us to nature. Not to mention the notion of conduction. If the body may be about 60% water than we are perfect vehicles for the movement of this charge. We seem to reside in a space (such could be its property) that by this principle should be magnetized by this charge and so, we have all the capacity to control the fundamental interaction of polarity.

This seems to correspond with the philosophy of magick: the science and art of causing change to occur in conformity with will.  And for whatever reasons the notion of 2012 has everyone talking, thinking outside the box, hypothesizing, people are charged up on this issue. There certainly seems to be a great polarity of how people feel about these impending circumstances. Time keeps on moving and the years keep changing.

In the spirit of communication evolution and the recognition of these circumstances. FreakCast and Happymooncake are prepared to run certain experiments in various spaces reserved for such work. If we recognize our current conditions as an electric womb, then by the laws of nature something must come of it.

A birthing, a miscarriage, an abortion, a spiritual marriage, another greater womb… All possibilities are possible and we would like to investigate and get a greater divined insight into those possibilities.

Pedro Sousa and I have an enduring relationship; for a long time he wanted to kill me. His rage towards me wasn’t unwarranted. If you know anything about me, Marlo, you wouldn’t suspect otherwise.

In 2000 we were both attending Stony Brook University. Pedro had a sweet studio on the fourth floor of Staller Art Center. He was sharing the space with several artists and it was no-holds-barred-art-making-central.

Pedro is a photographer, so naturally he kept his tools at his studio space. Why wouldn’t he? It’s not like anyone went back home in those days or took days off from making art-stuff. While other artists prized their brushes and oil paints, Pedro’s payload was about eight cameras and loads of lenses.

On one particular day I remember visiting the collective studio space. A girlfriend of mine hung out with that crew and she probably wanted to see her ex-boyfriend who shared the studio with Pedro. To say I knew these art-folk would be an over statement. I maybe had met some of them once or twice. It’s a good bet I didn’t know anyones’ name. And if Pedro was telling this story, I’m pretty certain he would stress the exclusive nature of those studios. This was a tight knit community to which I wasn’t even worth spitting on. I was a freshman, but i certainly did not regard myself as such.

Back in those days I wasn’t easily impressed. Everything and everyone, that is, besides me, was “pretentious.” Being in a room of older more “established” males was not doing anything positive for my ego. Clearly these were a bunch of pretentious dicks! With a judgment of that caliber I took out a cigarette and lit it.

I almost remember smoking it out the window…

That was it. The rest was related by Pedro in a death threat back to my girlfriend of that time. He accused me of burning down the studio, but in more visceral words than that. To this day no one really knows if the cigarette I was smoking was the cause of the fire. One party believed it was. I believed otherwise.
What’s more, nobody cared for apologies which later morphed into half-excuses. In fact, certain members of that studio still consider me an arsonist and a prick, and I very well maybe a prick. But, I can tell you dear reader, that it was not my intention to create this animosity nor to burn down any studio.
Why am I telling this story here? Well, it’s a testament to Pedro really. He lost the most in that studio and at the same time he was the first to forgive me. After we moved on beyond that mishap, I was able to clearly see that here was a guy that was neither pretentious nor a prick.

Pedro is one of the most driven guys I know. He’s got the skills to rally people for a cause. To get shit done! Straight out of college he opened a gallery in a dead art zone known as Long Island. It is a miracle that his space held out for six years –packing out the house at every opening.
That was almost all Pedro’s work. While others spoke of a vision he executed his. He enabled other artists and himself by having a space to show work. For artists that is a huge deal! Having an art show means that you must produce. If you keep producing your work matures, you build a portfolio worth showing, collectors become interested, etc. Pedro fostered not only this space but its culture as well. He created a community where people could experiment and show those experiments. I was no exception.

Under terms that I would not burn down the gallery Pedro let me into this culture. I felt a belonging and now other people were looking at me as the pretentious dick. It was a great feeling. We were able to pull off all sorts of great events and spectacles: film festivals, experimental video nights, vaudeville art shows and other performances. The space like the people around it were in constant evolution.
When Pedro closed the gallery it was a surprise, but he listed the fact that he was spending too much time doing administrative work and not enough time producing art as a major factor. Sure, now that I am curating both the Solarium Art Gallery and the Lobby Gallery at the Roger Smith Hotel, I can relate. That is why I proposed an art show to Pedro as well as a co-curatorial role.
That is the relevance of community, of friendship, of culture. It is the ability of relation. To be able to relate is far beyond understanding. That is the torch that we carry and pass to each other. Back and forth it goes…

The Exhibit is Open: January 4, 2010- March 12, 2010

Roger Smith Hotel Lobby Gallery

501 Lexington Ave.

The Opening Party: 2.26.10

Time: 7:30pm

@ Roger Smith Solarium Gallery

True Fictions – Live Performance Trailer from THE LIGHT SURGEONS on Vimeo.

Today it would seem that something that was working upon my subconscious has ascended into the conscious mind. Like a diver who had been stroking the depths has finally made himself known. Emerging through the water –with him he brings news of great treasures that lay at the bottom waiting to be extracted.

Being part of Panman Productions all of us have been mauling over this piece of human psychology, this treasure waiting to be exhumed from the depths. We all know it’s there, at the bottom, but everyone’s perception is different of what that treasure may be.

Within each persons different perception lays a different reality. Our minds build walls around each of our own realities and we stand at the gates to defend our very fragile- indispensable kingdoms.

I say to myself, my kingdom should be sacred.  Believing this to be true I want to share it with others. My kingdom could be my aspirations and ambitions, it should involve my imagination and creativity pushed through the lens of action and exploration. My kingdom reveals itself as a world that I have called, FreakCast, my kingdom has many worlds within it. Each world bearing its own province: Pilgrims of Pleiades, Hooligans Under The Sun of the Littlest Little Skitbook, Penguins in the City Inc., and Nargile Productions, these are just a few examples. Without these para-realities I would be lost. There would be no compass to guide me, no purpose to explore, no reason behind why I am. Fundamentally I exist because of the worlds I have created for myself and adapt into reality. Those around me who inhabit similar dimensions/kingdoms/universes can walk as freely into mine as I can into theirs. Once we are interacting on this level, communication begins to evolve as a byproduct.

As a recent example I look towards Pancity. Pancity opened its gates to me and said, here is where all your dreams come true. No shit! It took some time to adapt this very earth shattering mantra but it was repeated enough where I gained the courage to test it out.

Panman had put out a petri-dish and said, go ahead colonize it. In this boundless petri-dish I saw no competition and ripe soil and went for it. What I realized seems that the petri-dish was designed for me. And that everyone in Pancity gets their own dish. We don’t have to compete for real-estate. Besides that, these dishes are boundless, morphing, vessels for our creativity. They interject, cross-multiply, and reverberate through all of Pancity in a holographic composite image that bends through space.

Even better, we may set out our own petri-dishes if that is our cause.

We all have a kingdom. We were all once children. Some of us have taken that world with us and nurtured it, others tried to shed that world. The reasons are boundless, but be aware that if you are not living in your kingdom then you are living in someone else’s. If that could be the case what role do you play?

Few kingdoms are out there to Make YOUR dreams come true. No wonder we are skeptical.

First I had to believe. Then I had to stake my belief and take a risk. Dreams don’t come true out of nowhere and out of nothing. First you have to have a dream. Even for me this seems vague and uncertain since the fear of this dream coming true exists. What do you do next? How do you operate without your dream once it has come true? What if it’s a disappointment? Dream Again?

I realized that these were all traps and that dreams innately carry the DNA of your personal survival and evolution.

I realized that these were all traps and that dreams innately carry the DNA of your personal survival and evolution.

The process of finding your dream should be figuring out what you would like to create. It may be anything. The end result carries no significant importance. Going through the process of creation reverberates historically as an important element linking creativity with survival. Process unlocks realization. That realization should be the next process: evolution.

Evolution as defined by me: change over time that increases chance of survival and improves quality of life.

Evolution of self leads to evolution of community.

To get to the process you will have to do things that you will generate a million excuses as to why not to do.

On the other hand your process may be to create a circumstance in which you will have to do nothing, relax, meditate, find out how to get back to or explore your infinite kingdom.

When you present the product that has come from going through a process, Panman will respond. The new level of communication could seem as concise and unexpected.

I believe in this one tenet as a module to making the culture of our company as strong as water (apply personal elemental analogy here.)

Several realizations that I believe I have made through process.

1.Extract truth and realization from tribulation. For some reason it seems more impacting than from positive experiences and seems to last longer. Its longevity offers more time and abilities to study the realization and to extract its character.
2.Play games with yourself and others. Games should be how we learn and check paradigms.
3.Do not accept mediocrity, be weird.
4.The universe or ether, god, subconscious, shows it self as a fabric of humor. Gut-wrenching humor. Often you come off as the butt of the joke.
5.Be afraid. Be afraid to confront your fear. Confront it anyway.
6.Don’t do things as if you are doing them for someone. Do things for yourself.
7.Don’t believe anything anyone tells you. Especially when they sound really convincing. Always test their advice and opinions. Rely on your won experiences. It should be your kingdom after all.

A wise old sage was once asked what is one piece of advice you can share with the world. His response was, don’t trust what wise old sages tell you. There is a deeper meaning to this than the one that is obvious at first glance.

The hard part is remembering what I have realized. Memory can be tuff rubber. It feels great to have people around that have made similar realizations. I suppose that maybe what community could be based on.