BU Today

When I cross the Cambridge footbridge, I can’t help but notice the magnificence of Allston street art.

Coming up the bridge from Lower Allston, cyclists and pedestrians beat the nearly 45-degree incline with the spray painted words “hang in there honey” and “you’re almost there,” while neon pink and green stencils of AC/DC’s Bon Scott (circa the High Voltage years) stare up at you from the bridge.

Street art is everywhere, though many of us pass it by without recognizing the genius, wit, and risk poured into each tag, post, and stencil.

Last winter’s scandal is over; as many of us know (and are reminded of every day if you pass International Bikes), Shepard Fairey graced Boston with his signature art and was eventually arrested for it.

Fairey, famous for his red, white, and blue Obama “Hope” image and Andre the Giant imagery, was taken into custody in February on warrants charging him with tagging locations, including the BU Bridge.

Usually working between 2 a.m. and sunrise, street artists put a lot on the line to convey their message and make Boston a little easier on the eyes.

In recent years, New York City street artist Danielle Bremner was sentenced to six months in jail and five years probation for tagging in the Back Bay and in one of MBTA’s rail yards.

Street art isn’t child’s play.

Because of the legal risks, most street artists remain anonymous for the duration of their careers and lives, taking neither payment nor credit for their work.

While Fairey’s work is among the best known in Boston, other pieces pepper our campus and the surrounding neighborhoods, too.

First, the famous Goldenstash. Not much is known about the man behind the mustache, but the legendary image greets thousands of Bostonians daily. For those who aren’t familiar with the image, picture a cartoony-looking ’70s playboy with a full head of hair and a glistening golden mustache and chain.

Other notable Boston artists include PIXNIT. A rare find, PIXNIT adds a feminine touch to the boys club. Floral stencils from Allston alleys to Back Bay rooftops mark her famous work.

But the freshest pieces I’ve spotted in our neck of the woods would be from none other than Stay Cute.

Right behind the West Campus dorms, in the Bank of America kiosk, an almost nauseatingly cute cartoon creature stands above the words “Stay Cute.”

Stay Cute’s made a name via snickering.

So, if midterms or the gloomy Boston weather are getting you down, keep your eyes peeled for some street art in your neighborhood.

Found anything sweet slapped onto a building, box, or streetside near you? Send e-mails to jenchoi@bu.edu. Follow me on twitter @jenchoi.

Where do you get your art scene info? Let us know in the comments.

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DIY is not a dirty acronym. In a time of economic downfall, Live Nation-Ticketmaster mergers, and swine flu, DIY is your new best friend.

Boston’s rife with DIY venues and bands that would rather play for free than navigate the tumultuous waters of local venues and bureaucracy.

Especially in Boston, DIY’s defined the culture for decades. From Aerosmith to Passion Pit, a lot of bands on your iTunes playlist owe some fraction of their success to the poor college students who lived and died by the sound. Unlike larger cities like New York, Chicago, and L.A., Boston’s college scene has bred an environment of grassroots mutual promotion, production, and performance for pennies, if anything at all.

A fundamental case study of Boston DIY is Allston in the 1980s to the mid-1990s. Immortalized in films like American Hardcore, students and college radio stations (including our very own WTBU) paved the way for noncommercial music.

This tradition continues today.

From Medford to Jamaica Plain, there are places where kids can discover new sounds and experience Boston’s artistic and musical roots without sacrificing an arm and a leg.

In Jamaica Plain, The Whitehaus has been attracting national attention for its emerging record label and its penchant for free, live, and local music. Local heroes Many Mansions and Truman Peyote play and release albums with Whitehaus.

In contrast to more traditional venues, DIY has community at its heart. Whitehaus champions an artistic lifestyle as opposed to art for profit.

Medford’s Outside the Lines Studio advocates community support for exploration, learning, and expression in a way that’s best for everyone and anyone’s talents and interests.

These DIY venues rarely charge, and if they do, you don’t have to feel guilty about paying the man. At OTL, 85 percent of the proceeds goes directly to the artists. Further highlighting the importance of community, OTL is about more than pretty things and fun parties; OTL works with people with a range of disabilities while providing job training for the needy.

Another community rich in noncommercial music: Allston.

Most notably, Butcher Shoppe has nearly weekly performances from acts like Jana Hunter, Quilt, and Craters.

Allston’s known not only as the premier destination on the wibbly-wobbly B Line, but also the destination for kids looking for some cheap drinks, good company, and the sweaty underbelly of Allston Rock City. It’s common to run into old acquaintances in your friend’s friend’s smelly basement, with local noise, psychedelic, folk, or indie rock as the night’s live soundtrack.

There’s a place for $30 rock shows and $7 PBRs, but while you’re young and in Boston, take advantage of the cheaper and resiliently vibrant side of local music at your local independent venue or gallery.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: Boston DIY is the ill-est.

Questions? Comments? E-mail Jen Choi at jenchoi@bu.edu or follow me at @jenchoi for the ill-est shows and arts in and around BU.

Where do you get your DIY art scene info? Let us know in the comments.

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There used to be a persona associated with tattooed people; our generation is making the art form friendlier and more accessible.

Body art used to be reserved for criminals, prostitutes, and outcasts. Now tattoos are entering the mainstream like a needle into skin. Everyone from the sorority girl to the Allston crust punk dons some ink for reasons as distinct as personalities.

Ian Traniello (CAS’11, SAR’11) pulls up an image on his laptop.

It’s the cover of The Sandman Papers, a literary analysis of the legendary comic book series by Neil Gaiman.

“This isn’t a very good picture, but you’ll get the idea,” he says. “It’s something that’s so true to everything that I believe and want to believe, so it’s something I want to wear for my life.”

Tattooed words and images carry symbolic meanings for many who go under the needle. On the other hand, some tattoos carry less weight.

With three tattoos, I consider the work I’ve had done more of a time stamp of who I was when I made the decision to wear an image permanently on my skin.

I have a stick ‘n’ poke on my left ankle of a cootie shot (a.k.a. a “circle, circle, dot, dot” like the children’s rhyme), some cutlery on my right forearm, and a teapot with a teacup on my left inner arm.

Although the city crawls with inked girls and boys, tattooing in Boston has been legal only since 2000.

Many of my friends and I go to Good Faith Tattoo [http://www.goodfaithtattooing.com] on Commonwealth Avenue.

Benjamin Sacks of Good Faith did two of my tattoos. Very easygoing and approachable, he makes tattooing less scary — but no less painful.

Disclaimer: tattoos are beautiful but they hurt.

The pain’s intensity really depends on the tattoo’s size and placement. A lot of it hinges on the attitude of the client, but I’d be lying if I said it was painless. Just arrive well fed and mentally prepared.

Other notable shops in the area include Redemption Tattoo, on Harvard Ave. between Comm. Ave. and Brighton. Specializing in traditional American tattooing, Redemption’s an Allston landmark, while in Jamaica Plain, Fat Ram’s Pumpkin Tattoo has been voted among the city’s best for years.

In Cambridge, I’ve seen some of the best portraits done at Harvard Square’s Chameleon Tattoo & Body Piercing. In Inman Square, Pino Bros Ink offers an array of styles by five distinct artists.

Whether for street cred, a good laugh, or memories, one thing certain about tattooing is that it is ancient, an art that’s been carried through the centuries by people ready for pain and permanence, aspiring to the exceptional beauty body art can become.

Jennifer “DJ Party-All-the-Time” Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com or follow her artistic exploits on twitter @jenchoi.

Where do you get your art scene info? Let us know in the comments.

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Lifting his shirt just past his left hip, Sam Mendoza reveals some black ink.

“It says ‘Que Viva,’ Spanish for ‘let it live.’ It’s an affirmation and a reminder to always remember to live and not be a dead weight,” says Mendoza (COM’08).

Just a year out of college, Mendoza keeps a light-hearted integrity to his vision and aesthetic in the cutthroat world of fashion.

“It’s a scary monster that’s so easy to get caught up in,” he says.

Casting models for a coming a fashion showcase in conjunction with other BU designers, Mendoza darts from one end of the SAO gym to the other, answering questions, having short conversations, taking notes on potential models, and joking around with friends and staffers.

“He’s always as collected as you can be when you’re running around,” says Martin Gregory Jerez (SMG’11), who’s worked on a number of Mendoza’s shows. “He always has time to make jokes, be nice, and do funny things.”

Mendoza was profiled by the Boston Globe early in his senior year, in 2007: “The story was about designers to watch at fashion week, and at that point I wasn’t even sure if I was doing that. That interview let me know I was showing before I even knew.”

After his first fashion show, during the spring of 2005, Mendoza’s been designing new lines and showcasing them at shows every six months. Although Mendoza’s among the most hyped young designers in Boston, he keeps his feet (and ego) firmly grounded in two worlds.

Having the luxury of being a student and a designer early in his career, Mendoza thrived in the professional, hyperpaced world of high fashion and also the grimy but great Allston party scene.

“There were nights when I went to glamorous events in the city and hung out with socialites and other designers, but at the end of the night I would go home to Allston and get sweaty at a party in someone’s basement,” he laughs.

For Mendoza, that’s his alter ego girl. Mendoza designs for women who don’t care where they are, women who are confident in how they look, who enjoy themselves.

During his last show at Boston Fashion Week at the Liberty Hotel, Mendoza toyed with the idea of old school and new school, new Boston fashionista versus the old idea of glamour. His inspiration this time around: goth.

“I wanted something that was dark but more along my lines and not trashy,” he says. “Goth was the closest thing.”

Mendoza found inspiration at An Tua Nua’s notorious Monday goth dance party, Ceremony. In his show, he juxtaposed the conventional goth aesthetic, dark makeup and hair, against flowing fabrics and rich colors as models walked the top two floor of the Liberty.

“Happiness and confidence is my measure,” says Mendoza. “I mean to grow and show something bigger and better. I want to show them a collection and an event that will have them say, ‘Yes, this is a designer, he’s the one to go to.’”

Jennifer “DJ Party-All-the-Time” Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com or follow her artistic exploits on twitter @jenchoi.

Where do you get your art scene info? Let us know in the comments.

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Feminism and expression go hand in hand for multimedia artist El Putnam.

During her early years fresh from art school, Putnam used shock and awe as a means of expression. Her topics remain volatile — abortion, gender, and feminism — but now her approach is more subtle, sophisticated.

“I definitely consider myself a feminist,” says Putnam, “but I am not trying to develop a sense of feminism that only looks at masculinity in our society. We live in this binary system that doesn’t always fit. Sex is a natural part of human beings that we’re trying so hard to solidify.

“The gap between what’s considered feminine or masculine, that draws me in.”

Through photography, video, and performance, Putnam approaches absurdity as a means of exploring ideas and presumptions circling that infamous “gap.”

“We’re trying to expose the gap — and by gap, yes, I mean the vagina.”

As a performance artist, Putnam’s work went largely misunderstood.

“Performance art isn’t a new medium, and the criticism it receives about being pretentious and inaccessible is a myth,” she argues. “It’s an incredibly popular art in Europe and other places outside of the United States.”

America is starved for art education, according to Putnam. As a part-time faculty member in the visual and media arts department at Emerson College, she mentors students not just in the Western sense of art but in a wider understanding of genres and expression.

“There is a greater appreciation of art in Europe in general,” Putnam says. “Here we try to commercialize it. People need to learn how to critically approach art.”

Putnam considers much of the arts in America as an industry designed to make profits. In Boston, where the South End gallery scene (evolving out of the Newbury Street focus years ago) seems to hold a monopoly over how arts are presented, Putnam worries that artists feel obligated to adhere to a commercial mold.

“I know what I find interesting won’t be interesting to everyone, but it’s difficult to make a distinction between good art and bad even though art historians and critics think they can do that all the time,” she says. And then, with typical bluntness, “Their opinions are bullshit.”

Putnam’s show at Somerville’s Washington Street Art Center, Sugar and Spice, up until the end of October, explores the feminist’s dilemma while highlighting inconsistencies in mainstream media and the popular culture’s “feminine ideal,” using video and dolls to toy with concepts.

Putnam urges audiences to reexamine society’s expectations in pieces with intriguing names like The Mystery of Pornography Vol. 4, and Clandestine Abortion, Adopt a Fetus.

“I not only create work dealing with issues, I am trying to create a discourse. It’s not just about rhetoric and shock value,” she says.

Putnam’s work exposes inherent problems in what she sees as a sexually illiterate society. “When it comes to gender, it’s really about not taking it for granted,” she says. “If it was simple, there wouldn’t be a need for feminism.”

Jennifer Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com.

Where do you get your art scene info? Let us know in the comments.

Read more blogs here.

So you think the fine arts are for a select few? Well duh!

Yet the group isn’t as select as you think. Most of them find their edge through the Internet.

Artists are just as interested in social networking, Googling themselves, and Twittering as the next Internet-savvy info-fiend.

For boys and girls tired of the same old same old, there are new ways to scratch your artistic itch. So sharpen up, and get your browsers ready: here’s a shotgun guide to online, independent, and alternative arts outlets.

Big, Red & Shiny
If you’re looking for arts, events, news, and criticism about contemporary artists in New England, Big, Red & Shiny is your first stop.

As the name suggests, the site’s a visual overload; people into New England arts die to show up in it.

BRS is a nonprofit devoted to promoting, discussing, and providing free criticism, urging readers and artists to spark debate, post their ideas, and self-promote.

Released as an online magazine, BRS is known for its comprehensive events calendar, listing everything from gallery openings to fashion shows.

Mobius
Since 1977, Mobius has integrated different media and artists all over the globe to create performance, video, installation, and intermedia work. It’s a one of Boston’s brightest contributions to the arts, a sense of collective creation; through an artist exchange program, artists from as far away as Macedonia and Taiwan contribute.

With space at 725 Harrison Ave., Mobius exhibits the cutting edge of the cutting edge, experimental artists often working in unusual mediums, including projection and video installation.

Antiplex
You don’t have to be a film major to enjoy independent film, but if you don’t have the time or the patience to scrounge for a decent listing, Antiplex comes to the rescue. The service consolidates listings from Boston’s top four independent movie houses: the Brattle, the Harvard Film Archive, the Museum of Fine Arts, and the Coolidge Corner Theatre.

How else would I have discovered the glory of J. Cannibal’s Feast of Flesh, an annual film series at Coolidge Corner featuring some of film’s best horror and gore cinema?

On A Friday
If there’s one thing Boston needs, it’s a solid music blog. Look no farther than your friendly neighborhood student-run OnAFriday.com.

Founded by diehard music and art junkies from Boston College, Boston University, and Northeastern University, On A Friday showcases the most noteworthy musical events in town.

If that doesn’t get you jazzed, you can probably spot contributors rushing from venue to venue, gathering interviews, video, and photography.

So don’t settle for the most recent Facebook event when there are groundbreaking events and galleries at your fingertips. Stepping out might change your life, or at least be a cool way to impress your new “artsy” friends.

Jennifer Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com.

Where do you get your art scene info? Let us know in the comments.

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The music industry’s been singing a bittersweet tune as record stores are rendered obsolete by file sharers and mp3 fiends. Yet for Liz Pelly (COM’11), cofounder of the Long Island-based record label Dinosaurs in Vietnam, the recent downturn creates an opening, a power shift from centralized larger labels to communal collectives like her own.

Hanging above her desk on Allston’s Greylock Street, a sign reads, “simplify,” more of a wish than a reality, given her busy life as an up-and-coming music mogul.

“What does mogul mean?” she asks, plugging the word into an online dictionary. “Hmm, a ‘big businessman.’ I am not a big businessman.”

One of BU’s most fervent music fanatics has a passion for helping good people do good things, which is expressed in a variety of ways, including internships with the College Music Journal and as co–music director at WTBU.

At CMJ, she recalls, “I wrote a big story about student-run record labels, but I really don’t look to that as a reference. Dinosaurs in Vietnam’s nothing like them.”

“Dinos” was founded not as a business but more as a collective of writers, artists, and of course, musicians. It’s organized in egalitarian style, free from titles and hierarchies; Pelly officially calls it a record label out of necessity.

“We started it not really intending for it to become a label,” she says. “But the artists involved just started calling it that, so it stuck. It sums up our intentions, makes it easier for people to know what we’re all about.”

The label’s name came from a transcending sense of artistic promise. Originally, Dinos was a simple moniker for a collection of bands that played a sound drastically different from the “emo pop punk” saturating Long Island.

“If anyone referred to Long Island as Long Island Rock City I would say no,” says Pelly. “Dinosaurs in Vietnam is far removed from Long Island. There are four artists signed to Dinosaurs in Vietnam. For example, Tom Moran is one of the musicians and he’s inspired by musicians like Daniel Johnston and the New York City antifolk scene.”

Another Dinos act is Bdee, a one-man wonder best classified with the likes of Ariel Pink and other experimental indie rock acts under the New Weird America genre.

Pelly isn’t worried about money.

“Anyone who’s producing their music and putting it on big labels has some other motives — including money,” she says. “I think people need to understand the importance of where their music comes from. Listen to Dinosaurs in Vietnam and support DIY labels!”

Pelly makes that easy to do: all Dino releases are available to download free, right here.

Jennifer Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com. Or follow @jenchoi on Twitter.

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BU’s got something YouTube doesn’t, because YouTube banned the work of video artist Blair Dowd.

Ignored by many, unknown to most, video artists represent a new genre within an ever-changing medium tracing back to the mid-1960s.

Nam June Paik kicked off a fascination in expression through technology by fusing television and sculpture. Today, hometown video artists like Dowd (CAS’11) continue Paik’s vision in variations all their own.

Dowd did more traditional work with soft sculpture, citing her fascination with the cult of celebrity and its evolution into a “new religion.” But her tastes changed before she transferred to BU from Carnegie Mellon University.

“I became much more interested in media and video and projection. People are really fascinated with fast clips but if you change them and add really bizarre meanings their reactions change dramatically,” says Dowd.

Her calling brought her to video art and YouTube, as user “prestoenamel.”

“I have shown movies with audiences and it’s really interesting to see people’s responses, but putting material on YouTube and waiting for hits and comments is so exhilarating. Seeing a movie within an audience as opposed to seeing it alone at your computer is completely different.”

Free from film’s traditional conventions — plot, narrative, actors and dialogue — video art shouldn’t be confused with other genres like television or experimental cinema. Video art’s completely up to the rules and whims of the artist.

“My last film, An Erotic Tale, involved clips already on YouTube that I put together in a way that was more erotic than the original products already online.”

I’d love to direct readers to Dowd’s whimsical piece on sex, sexuality and fantasy. However, shortly after posting her finished product, YouTube presented Dowd with a banned video and a warning.

“I was really fascinated in what the YouTube public considered ‘erotica’ via tags and comments,” she says. “I didn’t want hardcore porn, I just wanted to explore what was considered ‘erotic.’ I thought it was hysterically funny [when her video was taken down] because I got all the clips off YouTube and just re-contextualized them.

“Most post-modern artists deal with the contexts of various institutions but now I am dealing with things on YouTube and just changing the context and giving it back to the source.”

Using campy transitions available to anyone with Final Cut software, or anything similar, and juxtaposing often racy and disturbing images with ‘90s pop music or ‘70s and ‘80s punk, Dowd holds a mirror in front of viewers:

“I like to think of my work as satirical. I just imagine surfers scouring the web for porn but suddenly stumbling upon my video — poking fun at their erotic endeavor. YouTube art should be geared to that.”

An art history major, feminist, and extreme advocate of hard work and individuality, Dowd sees arts and technology as the same.

Her coming piece, Disco Bloodbath, centers on her thesis about popular fascinations with Hollywood and self-destructive stars like Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Anna Nicole Smith and Heath Ledger.

A member of radio station WTBU and the campus’ Feminist Collective, Dowd has a lot on her plate but couldn’t imagine life any other way:

“I want to be a critic, an artist, own a gallery, I want to do all of that and I just can’t sit idle.”

Jennifer Yoon Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com.

What do you think? Should Dowd have been banned? Let us know in the comments.

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Looking for it
By Jennifer Choi (COM’10)

Five student bloggers join BU Today this week, each given his or her own day, each hoping to contribute through the semester. This being Thursday, Jennifer’s up.

I get it: Boston’s better known for its Red Sox than for its booming arts and entertainment scene. But local talents and avant-garde visionaries dot classrooms and hallways all over campus.

Don’t see it? Look west, east, north or south: student and alumni artists work behind the scenes and under the radar in the most unlikely places.

It’s the here and now (as opposed to the there and then) that’s ripe for innovation and artistic collaboration. Here’s why: A) we are all poor and getting poorer; and B) there’s nothing to lose, so why not have fun and create while we still can?

Sure, you might not find evocative performance art on the Esplanade, but BU artists, performers and tastemakers challenge the status quo and create new sounds, looks and sensations for none other than you and yours, from student start-ups like Dinosaurs in Vietnam and Base Trip Records (who work to give voice to artists up and down the coast), to performers like Pretty & Nice and Pray for Polanski (Allston’s greatest advocates for good times and great music).

College isn’t only about getting tanked on the weekends and poring over text during the week. There are kids from all walks of life, with all different kinds of tastes, who find creative ways of meshing their passions in the classroom with their pursuits on stage, in the streets and on screen. Friends and networks created in class or within Warren’s 12-by-16 cells-slash-dorms extend beyond campus and sprout projects and creations unique to the BU/Boston experience. They might not have link tables or booths at Splash! but they’re here and they love to get heard.

Terriers are making big waves reverberating straight down Comm Ave. into the beyond, ranging from Paul Rachman (COM’82), critically acclaimed director of American Hardcore, and Marisa Tomei (CFA’83), an Academy Award-winning actress. Who can say whether the performers in your friend’s grimy basement, stuffy attic or open rooftop will ever “make it,” but who cares? Those performers reflect the strong student subculture Boston’s known for and that’s totally rad — rad enough to write about, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.

Each week, expect profiles and samples of the best student and alumni art, from a profile on campus video artists to a look at how your classmates promote local acts and DIY events.

Forget what the glossies tell you and embrace what’s in your own backyard!

Call it DIY, call it a free-for-all, call it whatever you want. It’s art, it’s now and it’s completely accessible if you know where to look or who to friend on the Face-space.

Here at BU, the average is slowly but surely becoming the amazing; maybe that stinky dude in Stats is up to more than not showering. And just maybe, if you look or listen a bit closer, you can find that spark of creativity that fuels the student scene all around.

Jennifer Yoon Choi can be reached at jenchoi71@gmail.com.

Want to find out more about art in your backyard? Let us know in the comments.

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