In high school, ballet dancer Naomi Thien Kim Le’s father, Chinh Le, told her something pivotal: “If you can’t live without it, don’t live without it.” She took his words to heart.
Naomi has now danced professionally with San Jose’s New Ballet Company since 2020. At 23, she feels she still has more to accomplish. “Every year, there’s a new side of myself that unlocks into ballet. I’m achieving more and more despite getting older.”
Chinh Le instructs by example. Both he and Naomi’s mother, Anatasia, are from Vietnam and immigrated to the US in 1980. Their journeys to America, however, were quite different. “In short, she came on the airplane, I came on the boat,” Chinh explains. He attempted to leave Vietnam multiple times before he was successful. The only thing he took with him was his violin. Without a standard American education or fluency in English, he struggled to find musical education opportunities. Despite this, he was determined to become a professional musician. He eventually earned a scholarship at Indiana University. He’s now a violin teacher and a violinist with the San Jose Symphony, which accompanies New Ballet productions.
Chinh passed his passion for music and the arts on to his children. Naomi and her siblings all play instruments and dance with New Ballet. The family even formed a string quartet during the lockdown phase of the COVID-19 pandemic. “We need the normal things to sustain a life. But art gives people a reason to live,” Naomi says. Her mother echoed this importance in her approach to parenting. “What we were taught as [children] is that art is one of the rare gifts that one can possess. We want our children to explore their gifts.”
Naomi is grateful for her family’s support of her ballet career. “They always made sure I could have food on the table, no matter what,” she remembers, “so that I could comfortably choose and put a strong foot forward with what I wanted to do with my life.” Her connection with her heritage is strong. “My work ethic is from my family and my Vietnamese culture,” she explains. “The food that I eat to have the energy to go throughout my day, to dance, and to teach is really influenced by my culture.”
“Every year, there’s a new side of myself that unlocks into ballet. I’m achieving more and more despite getting older.”
Naomi originally began studying ballet at five years old to help with her coordination. Her parents homeschooled Naomi and her siblings and had them try out many different physical activities. Naomi began dancing as a student with New Ballet’s founder, artistic director, and executive director Dalia Rawson. She’s mentored Naomi’s development from a young student to a professional dancer. Naomi always took her classes seriously, but it took time for her to hone her skills as a true performer. “She was almost a little introverted,” Rawson remembers. “She has been a series of little revelations over the years.” When Naomi was 10, Rawson told her she had the discipline and the body to dance at a higher level. She’s now danced in hundreds of professional New Ballet shows.
Naomi’s approach to ballet is a joyful one. “It’s a human experience. I want to get into that kind of carnal state where, truly, I’m dancing because I’m enjoying life, I’m enjoying what I do,” she explains. “I don’t want to spend my career in dancing stressed all the time.” This approach runs parallel to Rawson’s mission with New Ballet, which prioritizes dancers’ mental health.
Naomi herself majored in psychology at Santa Clara State University. She attributes this partially to her mother, who got her master’s in psychology after working as a pharmacist. She says that New Ballet’s emphasis on mental health was also an influence on her decision. “I think I was just surrounded by a lot of people who cared about other people’s well-being and success, and I just wanted to carry that on.”
According to Rawson, there are two things a ballet dancer needs to elevate their practice: a solid control of classical technique and the ability to embody different roles with that technique. Naomi has both. “She brings moments out of choreography that I’ve seen her dance many, many times,” Rawson shares. “She is on the path to becoming San Jose’s first home-grown, home-trained, and hometeam ‘Ballerina.’ ” “Ballerina” as a title has a specific meaning within the dancing world. The dancer needs to have had at least three main ballerina roles, and one of them must be Giselle, which New Ballet will be doing a production of in 2025. Naomi has already danced main roles in Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty. “It’s like Hamlet for a female ballet dancer,” Rawson explains. “There’s a very good chance that she will dance that role.”
rafa esparza is a multidisciplinary artist based in Los Angeles, working across live performance, sculpture, installation, drawing, and painting. Known for his work with adobe brick, a skill he inherited from his father, Ramón Esparza, his process is a means of connecting the artist to community and centering inclusivity within contexts of historical exclusion.
rafa’s use of adobe can be traced back to his father’s life in Ricardo Flores Magon, Durango, Mexico, where he worked with the material before migrating to the United States in the 1970s. When rafa came out as queer in college, it created an emotional distance and strain in relationships with friends and family, especially with his father. Seeking to overcome that strain, rafa asked Ramón to teach him how to work with adobe. Although their interactions during the adobe-making process were focused on the technical aspects of the craft, working with his father allowed them to gradually mend their relationship and culminated in Ramón Esparza leading the production of rafa’s first large-scale adobe brick installation in 2014.
This origin of medium informs rafa’s current work, where he uses adobe as a platform to “probe a history of institutionalized racism in traditional art spaces”. A collaborative process is central to the work, often involving other BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) and Queer artists. By bringing this process into historically exclusive institutions, he explains, the work is designed to “ground conversations that are about inclusivity”.
“Bringing adobe into traditional art spaces, to me, is a way of collapsing modernity and reminding us that all of these buildings are built over land.”
The physical presence of sun-baked earth within the white walls of a gallery is both a physical and a philosophical challenge. Bringing adobe into art institutions often runs counter to institutional requirements for organic materials. Such venues have required the adobe to be sprayed with pesticides or irradiated to kill any living matter. Drawing parallels to the exclusion and sanitization faced by immigrants and marginalized communities, rafa sees these institutional challenges as extensions of long-standing systems of exclusion and control in art spaces and society more broadly.
rafa shares, “Bringing adobe into traditional art spaces to me is a way of collapsing modernity… reminding us that all of these buildings are built over land.” In his 2025 installation, Casi Casa: De Borrado, at MACLA in San Jose, rafa is collaboratively creating a large slab constructed from adobe. The installation is meant to prompt visitors to reflect on heritage, familial legacies, and humanity’s relationship to land. rafa wants audiences to imagine what it would mean to “pause” the relentless drive to build and instead imagine the Earth swallowing up life as we know it.
rafa’s 2025 installation will be featured in the group exhibition From Their Hands to Ours at MACLA/Movimiento de Arte y Cultura Latino Americana in San Jose. The exhibition (December 2025 – March 2026), presented with Montalvo Arts Center, focuses on how ancestral wisdom and childhood experiences shape identity.
Follow the Lucas Artists Residency Program on Instagram at lucasartres
rafa esparza was an artist in residence at the Montalvo Arts Center Lucas Artists Residency Program, January 2020 – March 2020 & November 2025 – December 2025
Image 3: Casi Casa: De Borrado, 2025, Adobe floor
Alfredo Muccino was born in Bogotá, Colombia, and raised as an Italian. His father’s engineering career took the family across the world, from Mexico and Brazil to Egypt, Iraq, Venezuela, and the UK, before settling in the United States. Alongside this nomadic lifestyle, his father was a painter and an artist. Muccino would imitate his work while drawing and painting together as a family. His father’s artistic career significantly influenced his early relationship with art and personal identity.
Muccino’s artistry has been influenced by artists like Picasso, Matisse, and Basquiat, as well as the art and architecture of Rome, where he grew up. As Muccino recalled, “A lot of it also comes from growing up in Rome as a kid, riding my bicycle around, drawing the statues of Bernini and the churches of Michelangelo.” Despite his struggles to call himself an artist, Muccino eventually became a creative director and built several businesses in San Jose, including Liquid Agency and Solid Branding. Now, he is ready to return to his roots with a solo show, two decades after his first collaborative exhibition at the Institute of Contemporary Art. This solo exhibition weaves his life, early experiences, and later influences and showcases his meditations on life, mortality, and the death of dreams.
Muccino’s art is deeply personal and reflective. At the heart of his philosophy is the idea that dreams can change over time as we age, reflecting on his hopeful arrival in the U.S. and the reality he sees now. “When I first came to this country… I came here with big eyes and dreams about what my life could be like,” Muccino says. “In some ways, where we are today hasn’t lived up to those dreams… perhaps that’s affecting many people, not just myself.” He hopes to explore the disparity between memory and reality through his show, turning his personal reflection into a shared experience. Furthermore, Muccino wants to remind viewers that it’s okay for all of us to feel that sense of loss and transition, and even when dreams don’t unfold as planned, they still hold meaning and beauty.
Muccino will present his MEMORIES & DREAMS exhibition at the Morgann Trumbull Project, a pop-up gallery in San Jose’s SoFA District on November 7, 2025.
Image #2 Figure #28, 2025, acrylic on wood, 24″x24″
Image #3 Memento Mori, 2025, acrylic on wood, 24-inch circle
Image #4 Death Mask, 2025, acrylic on wood,14″x12″
Featured Artist: Paulina (Goff) Stovall
San Jose-based professional pumpkin carver, Paulina (Goff) Stovall, started as an artist in high school. After graduating, she discovered a passion for pumpkin carving when she was commissioned to live carve pumpkins at a high-end party. Since then, she has fallen in love with the practice and continued developing her craft with CarvedFX. Her carvings blend artistry, imagination, and precision, transforming a seasonal tradition into a highly technical art form. Depending on the starting form required for different sculptures, Paulina also includes other vegetables such as butternut, carrots, sweet potatoes, and zucchini. Each varietal adds a different texture and form to her sculptures.
While most of Paulina’s carvings are commissioned to reflect a customer’s branding and vision, she always attempts to tie a piece of herself into her work. Inspired by mythical creatures and sci-fi horror films from the ’80s and ’90s, Paulina shares, “when I have the opportunity to carve for myself, I bring in things that inspire me, which tend to have a lot of teeth and look more scary and movie-inspired.” Even on family-friendly pieces, Paulina stays true to the spooky origins of pumpkin carving by including subtle elements such as bugs and critters. Paulina’s favorite works are standing 360-degree sculptures that make audiences question whether it was carved from a pumpkin.
“when I have the opportunity to carve for myself, I bring in things that inspire me, which tend to have a lot of teeth and look more scary and movie-inspired.”
Aside from carving pumpkins, Paulina has dreams of expanding her practice across mediums. “If I could branch out to another medium,” Paulina muses, “I’d love to start carving more with stone. Get into a permanent medium instead of a medium that rots.” That dream was sparked by interacting with a world-renowned stone sculptor who inspired her and made her feel like carving stone was meant to be. For Paulina, pumpkin carving goes beyond the practice and tradition. It’s about creating joy and lasting memories for people and their loved ones. Through her work, she hopes to inspire others to make art, pursue what they love, and remember the emotions they felt while watching her work or seeing the final piece.
This interview was done at The Tech Interactive during their 2025 Techtoberfest: Science of Beer and Brews. Paulina and her team, “Team Poisonous Perfection,” won Season 15 of Halloween Wars 2025 on Food Network, where cake decorators, sugar artists, and pumpkin carving experts battle it out as they create Halloween-themed edible displays.
Wowing crowds with outstanding performances at just the age of three, Amara Lin is no stranger to the music world. Fast forward to today, and she is the lead singer for two bands and teaches music at three different schools. She’s really come a long way with music.
Though she doesn’t come from a musical household, being involved with music since she was so young was the main cause for her wanting to make a life with it. Never has she had to figure out what she’s wanted to do with her life, because she’s been doing the thing she’s loved since she was a toddler. “My mom’s a music lover, so she put me in music classes when I was really young just to be exposed, and it took, but I didn’t really come from a music household,” Lin says. “I’m not sure things would have turned out the way they have if I were. Since I was young, I never had any other aspirations for anything else. Music was the only thing that made sense.”
Up until the pandemic, Lin always considered herself a solo artist writing her own music and performing. It wasn’t until one day at her job that she got an invitation to be a lead singer for her current band, Silk Road. “So the local band Silk Road came together when I started working for San Jose Guitar Center. My boss’s son was performing at an event with me and said, ‘Hey, I’m starting a band. Do you want to join it?’ ” Lin says. “They already had some parts together, then we came along and dragged a few other people in, and I got my sister to join us doing backup vocals. That was cool, and very unexpected.”
Lin’s music can be considered multigenre, but her main focus is on making pop rock or progressive alternative. If you ask her, she’ll tell you her sound is quite different. “I do a little bit of everything. I like the singer/songwriter aspect when it’s just me and my instrument,” Lin says. “I do some pop rock, progressive rock, present rock, with metal elements.”
Lin’s musical sound is so unique that you cannot really label it into one genre. She attributes a lot of her sound to music greats from the ’70s. “I listen to everything, but primarily ’70s music. I love psychedelic progressive stuff like Pink Floyd, the Doors, and Electric Light Orchestra,” Lin says. “Of course, I like the female songwriters of that era—Carole King, Joni Mitchell, and the more recent Alanis Morissette. Those are the mains.”
When it comes to making great music, every artist has an area that they hone in on, trying to perfect it. Some focus on the sounds of a song, such as vocals and riffs, whereas some are more into lyrics and storytelling. Lin likes to focus on storytelling and relatability with her fans. “I’m such a lyricist, I really care about lyrics. It doesn’t matter to me if the song is catchy, but if it doesn’t have good lyrics, it doesn’t hit as hard,” Lin says. “So I have to have a concept. Sometimes I write a poem and then write a song off of that, or I’ll come up with a melody and find words to match it, but when I do that it doesn’t feel as real and raw. When I’m writing with someone else, it’s nice because I don’t have to focus so much on the instrumental aspect. I get to nerd out and write something as somebody from an outside perspective and match how it feels with lyrics.”
Lin is passionate at what she does, and when it comes time to retire, she doesn’t see that in her future. Being in love with making music, she wants to create even in old age. “I love performing so much, and I love writing so much, I can’t decide which one is better,” Lin says. “I don’t think it’s ever been a concept in my mind that I would not be writing at some point in my life. I don’t care if I’m 80, so long as I can always express myself in that way and have the lenience to be able to do that.”
Wanting to help people is an overall goal for Lin. Along with doing music, she is currently a double major at De Anza College in music and psychology. She hopes to land a job in music therapy one day.
“Music was always a constant. It was always something I did, but I didn’t realize why. When I began writing at fourteen, I realized that it was kind of the thing holding it all together,” Lin says. “Music keeps me sane, so if I could make music that helped keep other people sane, that’d be pretty cool.”
Having recently released the song “Breathlessly,” Lin reveals that there is plenty of music on the way, and that they have more projects on the horizon. “We’ve been releasing over the past couple years. We’ve been dropping singles here and there, and we’re hoping to drop a project,” Lin says. “We have a lot in the vault. We’ve been doing a lot of music video covers, and for my other band in the works, we’re hoping to work on an album in the next year.”
Santa Cruz-based artist Laamsha Young has worked across three primary artistic disciplines: jewelry design, painting, and sculpture. While receiving her MFA in painting from San Jose State University, she discovered her latest passion for foam sculpture, which built upon her earlier practice in jewelry and painting.
Young began making jewelry in the 1980s before founding BlankVerse Jewelry and receiving international recognition, with pieces featured in Vogue and sold through major retailers. When she recently returned to university with an academic focus on traditional painting, her primary medium shifted following an unexpected material discovery.
This shift in medium occurred during a mold-making class. Tasked with creating a simple stress ball, Young encountered the “nerf-like material” and recognized its potential for larger forms. For the past three years, this inexpensive, low-brow material has been the basis of her current practice: large-scale foam sculptures. These pieces often take on elaborate drippy and squishy Baroque forms that she shares, “make squeezy noises.” This juxtaposition between Baroque and playful exposes the void between conceptually high and low art.
A philosophical interest in ornamentation connects Young’s practice in jewelry, painting, and foam sculpture. Drawing inspiration from formal design elements like “wallpaper and silverware,” Young’s work examines: “Who gets to have ornament?” Her current foam pieces actively address the boundary between high art and low art by applying traditional structures, such as candelabras, to accessible, commercial materials.
Young will be featured along with over 340 Santa Cruz County artists in the 2025 40th annual Santa Cruz County Open Studios Art Tour. She is concentrating on debuting a new collection of ornate foam candelabras, which serve as a material-based continuation of her inquiry into the role of ornament in contemporary sculpture.
“I felt powerful on the inside. But on the outside? I used to feel small,” reminisces Arturo Magaña, artistic director of Ensamble Folclórico Colibrí. Continuing, he shares, “That’s why I chose the hummingbird as our mascot. It also fit because the hummingbird is a messenger in Mexican culture…there was so much I want to say and to share.” The company today is known for being nonconforming and is inclusive of all shapes, colors, sizes, and genders; it’s an ambassador of Mexican folk traditions.
Arturo’s journey into his sense of self started as flag bearer, literally, before his family immigrated to the US. When he was very young, he was chosen to bear the flag during the Independence Day celebrations in his hometown of Zacatecas, Mexico. His life until then was spent behind an actual and metaphorical curtain where he would dance, sing, and be the hero to an audience that was comprised of El Chato the dog, Paquito the parrot, and at times his siblings and mom.
Arturo remembers clearly how he only wanted to be a performer—not a male or female artist, just an artist. His mom saw his passion and had him try various art forms. Like many dancers, Arturo was enrolled in ballet classes, which he hated. It was during that time that he encountered a live performance by a folklórico maestro. “I was struck by how untouchable he seemed when he was in front of an audience. It made me want to be an artist—not just learning to be one,” remembers Arturo.
But it was only when he was cheered as the flag bearer that he understood what being a culture-bearer meant: that art was not just expression, but also a responsibility. Years later, he was reminded of this again as flag bearer at the Mexican consulate in the US.
However, the ensuing years, which saw the family immigrate to San Jose, California, were challenging. As a teen, with Arturo coming to grips with who he was, giving up dance meant erasing himself. He found himself following the path of priesthood in a country that did not seem to have a place for his art or for him.
It was a strange twist in his destiny that had him on the road a few months later, when he asked for the car to be stopped so he could use the restroom at a club, and while walking out, he saw a flier inviting people to experience folklórico at the Billy DeFrank LGBTQ+ Community Center. For the first time in the US, he felt like he was looking in the mirror and liking what he saw—people he could identify with, performing what he loved.
“Owning one identity gave courage to own the other, to my own self. I came out to my mom when I got back in the car,” shares Arturo fondly, continuing, “Of course, she was not surprised.”
He signed up with ProLatino and later Los Lupeños as their lead dancer. He then stayed on as one of the company’s artistic directors for several years. In 2013, Colectivo ALA, a social and support group for non-hetero-conforming Latinos and Latinas, invited Arturo to present folklórico at their anniversary event; this catalyzed the idea of forming his own organization.
Today, Colibrí has an academy, welcoming youth to embrace who they are while getting rooted in Mexican culture. “I am humbled that we are now on the mainstage, not just LatinX or LGBTQ+ stages. Colibrí is part of Pride parades, of course, and recently was invited to the SF Symphony and San Francisco Opera,” remarks Arturo. He continues, sharing that Mosaic America embraced them as part of Silicon Valley’s mosaic from the start. He says, “When we share our culture at their event, we are part of the broader community we are helping to build. I believe in their process that ensures that we need to only show up as ourselves to be American. After all, that is how I, and therefore Colibrí, came to be, by just being brave enough to be our whole selves.”
In times when bravery is not easily summoned, he channels his mother’s poem that reminds him to stay strong:
Recuerda que eres tan fuerte Como una delicada lirio Que aunque sea plantada en el desierto Se mantiene firme y ni el viento más fuerte la puede arrancar Pues sus raíces son su fortaleza.
Remember that you are as strong as a tender and delicate lily And even if it was planted in the desert, It remains firm and strong, not even a strong wind can yank it out of the ground, for its roots are its fortitude.
Holding Form, Letting Go: Inside Mark Engel’s World of Shifting Figures
Mark Engel stands in his Walnut Creek studio. Birdsong and the distant hum of a highway blend with the hush of his brush against the canvas. Around him, figures emerge and dissolve: faces freeze mid-expression, limbs smear into strokes of color and shadow. Some figures lean into each other while others yearn to separate.
“There’s sort of this atmospheric pressure trying to push through,” Engel said, glancing at a fresh piece still drying on the wall. “Having this pressure of allowing something bigger than myself to come through, to me, is where the art happens.” As a painter and an educator at Mission College, Engel is a driving force in the Bay Area’s art scene. His figures feel both intimate and unknowable. The forms merge, stretch, and fracture in ways that echo how we relate to each other and ourselves. In Shifting Terrain, his solo exhibition debuting at the Triton Museum in Santa Clara August 2025, Engel will showcase works exploring tensions and transformations within the human form.
Engel followed an unusual path to art. With no family or scholastic exposure to art, he found creativity through skateboarding, which quite literally opened a garage door to his artistic journey. “I had a friend’s house I’d go over to, and his dad had a darkroom that he built in his garage. And so that got me into taking photographs and playing around in the darkroom,” said Engel. “So that was kind of my very first introduction into anything related to art.”
Engel kept returning to photography while working through general education courses at junior college. Everything changed when he transferred to San José State University. There, a drawing class exposed him to a world of creativity that he had not known existed. “When I went there, I met a lot of painters,” said Engel. “I was like, wow, there’s a lot of cool stuff you can do with paint that you really can’t do with photography.”
Engel’s curiosity about figurative art led him to instructor Leroy Parker, who inspired him and became both mentor and close friend. “His approach to the figure and his philosophy on life and on the figure, it just really was inspirational for me,” said Engel. “That really got me into working with the figure and with painting.”
Engel switched his major from photography to the more flexible option of pictorial art, which allowed him to bounce between media and dive headfirst into painting. By the time he returned to San José State to complete his graduate studies, he was firmly hooked on depicting the human figure and its endless possibilities within distortion.
Today, Engel’s process balances structure with freedom. He lays out a loose composition, then lets intuition take over. “I have a starting point. I have sort of a general notion, maybe a loose composition, and then from there, it just kind of happens,” said Engel. “A really important part is to not really know exactly what I’m going to do and to sort of feel my way through it. I really like that idea of spontaneity and of just trying to allow something else to come through where I’m not controlling it as much.” His current works visually echo this mindset. Figures overlap, edges fade into washes of raw color, and shapes stretch and compress like half-remembered dreams. They feel like living organisms growing and stretching beyond his own intentions.
“How do you show transformation? You can’t really see transformation in yourself,” he said. “With my work, I really try to show this sort of fluid space between holding form and dissolving. For me, that’s how you do it.” The theme of transformation lies at the heart of Engel’s work. He traces this interest back to his fascination with psychology, attributing it to Carl Jung’s ideas about self and the fluidity of identity. In Engel’s world, figures and people are never static; they are always on the cusp of becoming something else. His BloomSeries encapsulates this theme: in works like Cross Pollinator and New Skin, humans metamorphose into organic shapes like petals and leaves.
This series draws inspiration from his move from Santa Clara to Walnut Creek in 2020, a shift that drew him away from Silicon Valley’s urban sprawl and closer to nature. “There’s just more nature out here. I think that has a lot of influence as well in my work, just being around plants and trees and flowers and all of that,” Engel said. “It’s kind of creeping into my work. The heads were sort of an extension of heads that I’ve done in the past, but in this case, this metamorphosis of the head shows change and growth and flowering.” Even in his pieces without overt botanical references, the organic feel remains. His newest works tangle human figures or let them drift apart, visual metaphors for how relationships bind and reshape us.
Engel’s painting Drawn Together, Pulled Apart anchors his current exhibition at the Triton Museum, embodying a concept people feel more than speak about. “Drawn Together, Pulled Apart is really about relationships and how we’re affected by other people,” said Engel. “In a relationship, everybody has their own perspective. That interaction with people is really instrumental in how we change and grow individually and as a group.”
For years, Engel focused more on teaching than exhibiting his own work. He has taught art to at-risk youth in alternative schools and juvenile detention centers and has been a college instructor at De Anza College, Mission College, and other Bay Area schools for decades. The students, he says, constantly remind him of how vital it is to feel awkward, even after so many years of creating art. “They’re struggling with it because it’s something new,” Engel said. “It just always reminds me of how I need to be with my own work. If I want to make the work better or different or push it into new territory, I have to be comfortable with that awkwardness.”
Engel has shown work in group exhibitions in New York and Chicago as well as shows closer to home. His recent focus has been on making a name for himself through solo work. During his recent sabbatical, his exhibition Shapeshifters, at Know Future Gallery in Japantown, San Jose, marked a return to the solo stage after so many years of prioritizing the classroom.
With Shifting Terrain, Engel hopes to reach a broader audience and secure gallery representation to help take his work worldwide. “I really want to put my work out there as much as possible and go as far as I can,” said Engel. “The Art Basels or any of the big shows, all of that is definitely what I’m trying to do.” Engel stands on the edge of the next phase of his career, pondering what lies ahead. He lets the brush hush against the canvas once more, capturing what most can feel but rarely see: every form we hold is always shifting, always becoming something new.
“You can’t really separate the work from yourself,” said Engel. “Anything you do is really about yourself.”
Tasting House Los Gatos has been curating an exclusive series of winemaker dinners. The wine bar and bistro recently featured DANA Estates wines paired with a California/Korean fusion menu.
In preparation for what would become “A Taste of New Zealand,” Executive Chef Julian Silvera traveled to Napa with his sommelier staff to meet with Blair Guthrie, the winemaker and vineyard manager at Stewart Cellars.
The trip evolved into conversations over food and drink, where Blair shared stories of growing up in New Zealand, nostalgic memories, and how history has influenced his winemaking. That experience made it clear to Chef Julian that Blair’s story should become the theme for a curated Tasting House experience.
On August 20th, the team at Tasting House translated those stories into a six-course menu of elevated dishes from Blair’s childhood paired with Stewart wines while preserving a particular New Zealand twang. They sought to re-create the discovery and connections made during their visit through an immersive multi-sensory experience.
Twenty guests attended the winemaker’s dinner and were greeted by sparkling wine and marmite on Japanese milk bread. The scene was complete with the ambiance of New Zealand reggae from Blair’s youth funneled through the speakers.
Everyone was seated together like a big family in two long rows. With each course, Blair stood at the head of the table, clinked his glass for attention, and spoke about each wine, then Chef Julian described each dish and its New Zealand roots.
Abalone ceviche in coconut milk with a peppery heat balanced the acidity from the Napa Sauvignon Blanc picked early for New Zealand-style grassy and gooseberry notes–Blair used to freedive for Abalone growing up. A juicy Rossi Ranch Rhone-style GSM blendcomplementedthe gaminess from the minced meat croquette. PB&J (jam, *not* jelly) and savory duck liver mousse partnered with a crowd-pleasing Bordeaux-style blend. Lamb porcini in black currant demi conversed with a nuanced and layered Bourn Vineyard Cabernet from Stewart’s NOMAD series of Beckstoffer heritage sites. Finishing on dessert, a dry rosé of pinot noir and pinot gris stood up surprisingly well to the sweetness of pavlova, fresh golden kiwi, and whipped creme fraîche. Each turn revealed a new story and fostered more conversation among the guests.
Afterward, everyone was slow to leave, chatting as they chose bottles to bring home. Blair had hoped this event would get folks “back to the table to remember how good this feels, to sit next to a stranger and talk to them for an hour or so. And then want to do it again.”
Photo Credit: Provided by Feature M Public Relations Tasting House Executive Chef Julian-Silvera (first image), Tasting House exterior and interior by Carly Hackbarth Stewart Cellars Winemaker Blair Guthrie by Emma K Creative (third image) Plated dishes images by John Holleman 1. Ika Mata Abalone, Young Coconut, Serpent Cucumber (Ceviche) 2. Mince Meant Croquette Toma, Beef Garum 3. Lamb Porcini, Black Currant Demi, Pomme Puree 4. Pavlova, Golden Kiwi, Olallieberry 5. Duck Liver Mousse Boysenberry, Fix & Fogg Everything Butter (PB&J)
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John Holleman is a South Bay-based designer, writer, and certified wine enthusiast (WSET3).
Below the Surface: a life philosophy made visible
In a time of noise, uncertainty, and collective exhaustion, multi-disciplinary abstract artist Sieglinde Van Damme is offering something rare: a visual sanctuary to just breathe.
Sieglinde Van Damme’s path from economist to full-time artist may seem unconventional, but her work reveals a consistent focus: human behavior. Born in Belgium and now based in California, Van Damme brings a thoughtful, introspective lens to her art—one shaped by systems thinking and lived experience. Her guiding mantra, “Re-imagine what else is possible”™, informs both her process and her message.
Working across painting, mixed media, and installation, Van Damme builds her pieces through a slow layering process. Each layer represents a life phase—some joyful, others painful—resulting in textured works that reflect the complexity of personal growth. A recurring element in her practice is the use of white, often applied as a final gesture. For Van Damme, white symbolizes a clean slate: a space to release the past and make room for what’s to come.
In her 2025 solo exhibition, Below the Surface: a life philosophy made visible, at Whitney Modern in Los Gatos, Van Damme presents three recent series that explore these themes. At the center of the gallery is a new mirror installation, offering viewers a literal and metaphorical reflection of themselves within the work.
Each piece in the show is accompanied by a handwritten letter from the artist to its future owner. These notes share the emotional landscape behind the work and express her hopes for its place in someone else’s life—adding a rare layer of intimacy to the viewing experience.
Below the Surface: a life philosophy made visible is part of Whitney Modern’s 2025 exhibition calendar. For gallery hours and information, visit whitneymodern.com.
#1 – “B U R (S) T (H)” – ink and acrylics on photograph on canvas, 40 x 60 x 1.5 inches #2 – “Dance of What If”, acrylics and oil on canvas, 36 x 24 x 1.5 inches #3 – “Below the Surface”, acrylics and oil on canvas, 48 x 40 x 1.5 inches
Live Performance – recorded at Santa Clara County Fairgrounds, Aug. 1, 2025
Born in a small town in Vietnam, Ha Nguyen was raised with a clear path laid out before her: academic achievement, a professional career, and a life of quiet respectability. For years, she followed that path—studying dentistry for six years at the insistence of her father. But even in the lecture halls and clinical labs, something louder was calling.
Music had always been in her bones. As a child, she played piano, fashioned guitars from broomsticks, and recorded her favorite songs from MTV on cassette. It wasn’t until her late teens that she picked up a guitar and started taking lessons. In her early twenties, she joined an all-female rock band in Saigon, and soon after, she never looked back.
Nguyen quickly found herself swept into Vietnam’s indie rock scene, becoming the frontwoman for groups like Lazy Dolls and WhiteNoiz. Her voice—a rich blend of vulnerability and defiance—resonated with fans across the country. Fame followed. So did the pressures that often accompany it.
Behind the glamour of music videos and festival stages, Nguyen’s personal life was unraveling. Struggling with depression, disconnection from family, and loss of motivation, she reached a breaking point that forced her to walk away from it all. What followed was not an ending, but a beginning: a return to self, to family, and to music as a means of healing.
Now based in San Jose, California, Nguyen has entered a new phase of her creative journey. Her songs—many of them written in solitude, produced in her home studio, and shared intimately—are deeply personal yet universally resonant. Themes of surrender, forgiveness, and growth thread through her lyrics. She writes not just for applause, but for understanding.
Nguyen’s sound resists easy categorization. Influenced by everything from The Beatles to Adele to Dream Theater, her work drifts between indie rock, acoustic balladry, and soulful pop, often layered with subtle Vietnamese phrasing. Her band, The Travelers, gives her space to explore collaborative storytelling, but Nguyen also thrives in solo performances where the vulnerability is front and center.
One of her most poignant songs, “Surrender,” tells the story of letting go—a theme that has become central to her life. She once received a message from a listener who said the song had saved him from taking his own life. The weight of that connection is something she carries gently but powerfully.
In this conversation, Nguyen is reflective, grounded, and quietly fierce. She speaks of her Buddhist practice not as a performance of spirituality, but as a daily discipline—a reminder to stay present, to stay soft, to stay open. She’s also a mother now, a role that has softened some of her edges while sharpening her sense of purpose. Songs like “Best Thing” reflect this shift—less rebellion, more resolution.
Nguyen is not chasing fame anymore. She’s building something slower and more sustainable. She plays regularly in the South Bay, at venues like The Wheelhouse in Willow Glen, and continues to release music on her own terms. Her work doesn’t demand attention—it invites it.
Lolah Nguyen’s story is not one of overnight success, nor of perfect redemption. It’s a portrait of a woman who has fought hard for her voice, and who now uses that voice to create space—for herself and for others—to feel, to heal, and to be fully seen.
Kris Jensen, Director of the San Jose Museum of Quilts & Textiles, has woven together a range of experiences in taking the helm of one of the Bay Area’s most niche and quietly radical museums. Born and raised in San Jose, Jensen grew up in a family of artists, but came in contact with the realities of food insecurity and housing instability after his mother passed away when he was still very young. Jensen’s father, a folk artist and interior designer, was accepting of all lifestyles at a time when that was uncommon, and frequently had friends from various communities at his house. That early exposure to diverse relationships and identities was part of what helped shape Kris’s understanding of social justice from a young age.
Those early experiences led Jensen to study political science and pursue a career in community service. He has decades of nonprofit leadership experience, including as director of development at Alameda County Community Food Bank, Executive Director of Collective Roots in East Palo Alto, and Executive Director of San Bruno Mountain Watch. The same sense of advocacy and inclusion he brought to those roles now shapes Jensen’s mission at the museum. Having taken over in September 2023, just 15 months after the museum reopened post-pandemic, Jensen has stepped into the role, focusing on rebuilding audiences and deepening the museum’s roots in San Jose’s diverse communities.
The museum is emphasizing hands-on engagement and community storytelling. With many people still engaging with museums online and foot traffic slower to return post-COVID, Jensen is exploring new strategies to bring people back into the space, especially by expanding class offerings in textile techniques like weaving and crocheting, reviving the artist-in-residence program, and curating exhibitions that speak to contemporary issues through the lens of fiber art. Past shows have tackled gun violence through bullet-stitched fabric or featured Hmong story cloths that narrate histories of displacement and resilience.
In this conversation, Kris reflects on his path from food justice to textile arts, the importance of redefining museums as interactive spaces, and how fiber art—often dismissed as craft or “women’s work”—has long been a vehicle for social commentary.
Follow the San Jose Museum of Quilts & Textiles on Instagram @sjmqt and on the web at sj-mqt.org
“I HAVE TWO RULES when you enter my studio. One: no negative self-talk. Two: we always ask for consent.” Brittany R. Bradley, Britt for short, is an award-winning alternative process photographer. She uses the collodion wet plate process to memorialize her participants on a tin or metal plate, portraying them such that they feel powerful and authentic to themselves. Through her Calumet Cambo 8×10, Britt not only captures moments in time but also sparks a dialogue that resonates deeply with those who encounter her work.
As of January 2023, Britt is one of 21 artists in the city of Palo Alto’s Cubberley Artist Studio Program (CASP). The program offers artist residencies at a subsidized rate in exchange for artist-led free public programming. The four-year residency allows artists to dive deeply into their art practice while allowing time to create community with their fellow artists and the public.
Upon stepping into Britt’s studio, one feels safe and comfortable. Britt’s collaborative process allows participants to control how they are portrayed. She offers her expertise and skills to guide the collective vision, ultimately empowering the subject with the creative reins. “If there is something you don’t like, we talk about it directly. Accurately representing people and history feels more important than making a good technical photo. Photography focuses far too much on the technical and not enough on the humanity of it.”
The community aspect of the CASP program was essential for Britt. “Your identity is such a complex thing. It is a learned behavior to negate our multifaceted selves, to shrink ourselves down to fit into something comfortable for others. I think that just means you’re around the wrong people. When you’re around the right people, they want you to take up space and be louder. Being here at Cubberley, surrounded by incredible women artists, empowers me to do so.”
In 2019, Britt and two other photographers were hired to document a two-day event where over 150 members of the Bay Area’s Indigenous community came together for the reclamation of the site where the Early Days monument once stood. The project emboldened the local Indigenous community to redefine their public perception. Britt feels it is important for her to use her seat at the table to demand there be one for the Indigenous community, allowing for a more accurate representation of our collective histories. “Photography has a history of not accurately representing communities of color, the queer community, women. I want to do my part in changing that narrative, giving those communities the power to represent themselves.”
Since the collodion process requires several steps to capture a single shot, access to a permanent studio allows Britt to have a round-the-clock space to shoot and develop photos in her darkroom at her own pace. When out in the field, Britt utilizes her custom-built mobile darkroom, Ruby. This allows her to transport all the necessary materials needed to process wet plate photographs on the go. Britt typically uses Ruby at protests and rallies but also to provide interactive public demonstrations and collaborative group sessions.
Britt grew up in Groveland, located in Gold Rush Country near Yosemite. Both of her parents were educators and encouraged Britt and her three brothers to spend time outdoors. “When I was eight, my father taught me to develop film.” Today, both Britt’s day job and art practice focus on photography and its related practices. “While my mom never discouraged me from pursuing the arts, she was worried I wouldn’t be able to make a living. But she isn’t as conventional as she thinks. She is strong, outspoken, does everything her own way, and has an unwavering moral compass.” One might describe Britt similarly, noting her alternative photography process and fight for uncovering historical and modern-day truths.
When not capturing people on a metal plate or tin, Britt is the collections care specialist at the Hoover Institution at Stanford University. This work allows Britt to use her technical skills in a different way. She currently lives in San Jose and is part of Silicon Valley Roller Derby. In an upcoming project, Britt will use the alternative photography process to document the eightwheeled sport, noting how it challenges athleticism and how it is presented in society.
Britt’s work goes beyond the visual, becoming a captivating narrative delving into history’s obscured corners. With a discerning eye and a genuine commitment to authenticity, Britt’s lens captures more than just images but also the essence of forgotten stories, inviting viewers to explore the complexities of our shared human journey.
“None of it is easy; it’s all slow,” Britt shares, referencing not only her art practice but life itself. “It’s a challenge to love and be in love in this day and age. All we can do is try. Try to be good to ourselves, and to our communities. In little ways, every day, we undermine ourselves. I think what is so important about being an artist is surrounding yourself with enough people who give you permission to stop doing that. Being able to be in a community that speaks your name in a room when you’re not in it—that’s the only way we get to push forward.”
Britt’s intentionality and care allow her to view problems not as problems but as indicators for deeper issues. “The truth exists somewhere between your experience and someone else’s. Perspective is a form of truth, but it doesn’t mean your perspective is the only truth.”
For photographer and educator Dan Fenstermacher, photography is more than documentation—it is a philosophy of presence, humor, and human connection. From the busy streets of Tokyo to quiet corners of San Jose, Dan captures moments that are layered, unexpected, and deeply personal. His work sits at the intersection of activism, storytelling, and everyday life, always seeking to reveal something authentic, even quirky, in the seemingly ordinary.
Growing up in Seattle, Washington, Dan first discovered the magic of visual storytelling at the Cinerama movie theater and later through the Polaroid camera gifted to him by his mother. While studying advertising at the University of Idaho, he imagined a future crafting funny commercials and marketing campaigns. But after realizing that the suit-and-tie world didn’t inspire him, his path shifted toward global exploration and education. A pivotal moment came when he taught English in Korea and was unexpectedly asked to teach art classes. With the help of a friend, he improvised his way through lessons in photography, sketching, and painting, uncovering a surprising talent for visual composition along the way.
Dan’s journey has taken him across four continents, working in Accra, Ghana, Sydney, Australia, and San Ramón, Costa Rica. Dan’s interest in photography can also be traced back to the influence of his stepfather, a hobbyist photographer, who introduced him to formal equipment and deeper techniques during a formative trip to the Galápagos Islands. Dan applied and earned his MFA in Photography at San José State University. He is now Chair of the Photography Department at West Valley College, where he continues to inspire students and document campus life through a lens of curiosity and care. His commitment to capturing the overlooked extends beyond teaching, with ongoing projects and zines; his current zine series is focused on everyday life at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Ultimately, he believes it is about finding meaning in ordinary places.
Throughout this journey, Dan’s use of flash and a 28mm lens has become part of his signature style, creating bold, immersive images that highlight contrast, humor, and narrative tension. His approach merges environmental portraiture with street photography, aiming to deliver not just visual impact but emotional resonance, as inspired by photographer Craig Semetko’s “DIET” (Design, Information, Emotion, and Timing) philosophy.
In this conversation, Dan describes the role of photography in his life as a spiritual and social practice, how teaching students keeps him inspired, and how even something as small as handing someone a Polaroid can foster real connection.
Follow Dan’s work on Instagram @danfenstermacher or visit his website at
After a musical restart stateside, Ha Nguyen admits that full-time musicianship and motherhood have brought new clarity to her craft.
In her earliest musical memory, Ha Nguyen felt like a rock star, foreshadowing the adoring crowds to come. Standing atop her bed, holding a broom like a guitar, she closed her eyes and was instantly on stage, performing in front of thousands. From that moment, she knew she wanted to be a performer.
For nearly a decade, she toured her native Vietnam, pursuing that dream as part of two female-centric rock bands. She arrived in America unsure if she’d ever perform again but has been methodically building the next phase of her career stateside. Since 2021, she’s released a steady flow of singles under the moniker LOLAH. In mid-2024, Ha launched a new band, LOLAH and the Travelers, and admits she loves returning to a more communal creative experience.
“Before I was a mother, it was about me. ‘I want to share my story, and I want people to hear my feelings.’ Now, I want my songs to be helpful.”
“I love that we have three songwriters. I love the fact that we all want to do big shows, and we have a vision for the band,” she says. “Echos of Deception,” released digitally in early November, is evidence of a new-found cohesion, crunchy guitars, and a driving backbeat carrying into an anthem-like chorus. It may have taken years, but she’s back on stage sharing her love for rock music.
Growing up in Long Xuyên, a town of nearly 300,000 in south-western Vietnam, Ha first saw concert footage at the tail end of Hong Kong soap operas on VHS tapes her family rented. She took piano and vocal lessons as a child, but finally realized her dream of learning guitar when she moved to Saigon to go to dental school. She was the only female student under the tutelage of “Master Chau,” who opened a new world to Ha when he called Vietnamese pop music cheesy and began teaching her iconic rock songs like Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” and “I Hate Myself For Loving You” by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts. Soon, Ha was all rock and roll.
In search of more rock music, she began frequenting a Saigon music store owned by the bassist of UnlimiteD, one of the biggest rock bands in the city. He wanted to start an all-girl rock band and invited Ha to join. In 2006, Lazee Dolls was formed.
“The first show [we played] was an audience of 3,000. We would play for colleges. We played for TV shows, and we joined contests,” she shares of her time in the band. A personnel shake-up a few years later led the band to change its name to White Noiz. At the height of their success, the band built a circuit of club gigs scattered throughout the country. But juggling the band with her dental practice post-graduation proved difficult.
“We went through a lot of member changes. I burned bridges. I got mad. I lost control. I got depressed,” she remembers of the final days of White Noiz in the mid-2010s. At the time, she was also dealing with her first stint of writer’s block and was scared she’d never be able to write music again. While it took years to be at peace with the band dissolving, she says writing the lyrics to her 2021 single “Back in Time” helped her process her feelings: “Time flies, several years gone by / not too long to forget, but enough to believe that it’s over.”
By this time, her entire family had immigrated to the US. They urged her to join them. “I was the last one in Vietnam. I had so much fun in Saigon, until it wasn’t fun anymore,” she recalls with a laugh. She moved to San Jose in 2017. “I forgot about everything. I missed playing music, but on the other side, I had my family.”
As fate would have it, her music career got an unexpected re-start during a job interview. “[The interviewer] found out I was a singer and said, ‘This job is not for you, but I used to do shows, so I’m going to sponsor you to play at this show,’ ” she recalls. Her first American performance was inside the Chùa Di Lặc Buddhist Temple on Story Road. Performances started to pick up, but it was hard not comparing the crowds to the larger rooms she played in Vietnam. She remembers busking at San Jose Jazz Summer Fest, earning only the tips she received from passers-by. “It taught me to let go of ego,” she notes of the experience, adding that being a full-time musician has brought a new sense of humility to every opportunity to perform.
Another shift for her music? Motherhood. “Before I was a mother, it was about me. ‘I want to share my story, and I want people to hear my feelings.’ Now, I want my songs to be helpful.”
Despite the starts and stops to her career, she has a quick answer when asked why she plays music: “I love it.” After a beat, she elaborates. “When you play music, it’s healing. When you write a song, you get to say things that would be weird to say, and you can share your feelings in a creative way. When I play for people and I see that I make them happy, I feel great too.”
The vibrancy of San Jose’s creative culture can be found on its streets, in its art galleries, infused in local businesses, and in the work of neighbors who use creativity to connect, reflect, and inspire. The City of San Jose’s Creative Ambassador program awards artists who champion the power of creative expression. Chosen for their commitment to an artistic practice and community engagement, these ambassadors represent a wide range of disciplines and cultural perspectives that capture the city’s creative pulse.
Selected by the City of San Jose’s Office of Cultural Affairs through a competitive panel process, each ambassador begins a yearlong role dedicated to uplifting local voices through public art projects, workshops, and storytelling. Their projects are rooted in the neighborhoods of San Jose and are designed to invite hands-on participation from residents, meeting people where they are and inviting them to participate. Whether through film photography, collaborative murals, theater, or zine-making, the ambassadors’ projects offer opportunities for all residents to tap into their unique creative voices and to see their city and each other with fresh eyes.
Their work reminds us that art belongs everywhere—it lives in community.
For Matthew Casey, the journey to theater was accidental but transformative. Initially attending San José State University for ecology, he later found interest in political science, drawn to the study of human ecosystems. Meanwhile, he was getting increasingly involved in theater, taking on leadership positions that would define his artistic trajectory.
As a production manager for San Jose Stage Company and More Más Marami Arts, Matthew is dedicated to creating meaningful, community-oriented theater. More Más Marami was established in 2008 to help expand access to the performing arts in the South Bay. He explains, “We were all trying to break into the performing industry, but in the South Bay, where there isn’t really a big scene, it’s difficult to get in. So we created a space for ourselves.”
Since its establishment, More Más Marami has been a platform for experimentation in the arts. Their regular programming includes six weeks of script development for local writers that culminate in a staged reading with a director and full cast. Matthew says, “It’s been great to see it evolve from simply developing scripted work to developing full performance pieces.”
As part of his role at More Más Marami, Matthew spearheads the Bay Area Story Archive, a project launched in 2019 to document personal histories from San Jose residents. He is inspired by his own family roots in New Mexico, where multi-generational connections are the cornerstone of local identity and wishes to see that replicated in San Jose.
As an artist, Matthew describes his work as maximalist and sensorial. His signature style isn’t just directing or producing, but curating immersive experiences. He says, “I want to create interesting things with people I care about. For me, theater is about connection between artists, audiences, and the places they inhabit.”
Preserving tradition: Moving from polished performance to heading a school.
The Abhinaya Dance Company of San Jose performs Bharata Natyam, a popular South Indian classical dance. The dance originates from the Natya Shastra, a Hindu treatise on the performing arts. From this text, a distinctive style of dance was developed during 200 CE in the Tamil Nadu region of India. The style showcases synchronized, expressive movements (abhinaya) by the dancers.
Founder and artistic director Mythili Kumar had always wanted to present professional traditional dance productions to the public. On occasion, her audiences have been able to not only see Bharata Natyam, but also Abhinaya’s collaboration with other cultures, such as with Japanese taiko drummers and a Balinese gamelan ensemble, which bring other Asian traditions into a more modern mix.
On April 3 at the School of Art and Culture at the Mexican Heritage Plaza, Abhinaya performed Remembering MS. This most recent production honors M.S. Subbulakshmi, a Carnatic vocalist and an important contributor to Bharata Natyam and other Asian music. Known in the dance world as M.S., she was the first woman and the first musician to receive the Bharat Ratna, India’s highest civilian honor.
Mythili graced the stage in India before bringing the art form to the US. Her award-winning choreography has won several awards from the National Endowment for the Arts. A recent accolade was the 2015 Legacy Laureate Award from SVCreates for her dedication to dance. Mythili decided to open her own school in 1980 when Indian families began pleading with her to teach their daughters how to dance. She has also taught at universities, including San Jose State, Stanford, and UC Santa Cruz.
There’s a saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Rasika Kumar, whose teacher and mother is Mythili, is also a performer and choreographer, and is the current associate artistic director of the company. Her choreography has been seen on several stages, including the San Francisco Ethnic Dance Festival and West Wave Dance Festival. Like her mother, Rasika has garnered several achievements, including the Lakshmi Viswanathan Award from Sri Krishna Gana Sabha (Chennai, India) for a solo performance.
Another apple from Mythili’s tree is Malavika Kumar Walia, a senior dancer and choreographer for the company. In addition to teaching dance and developing choreography, she coaches dance students for their arangetram—their debut, onstage, solo performance.
Abhinaya Dance Company of San Jose boasts more than 130 graduates. Classes are offered in San Jose and Monte Sereno. The accomplished company has not only performed in the Bay Area, but has also traveled to other US cities, as well as to stages and competitions in India, where Bharata Natyam originated.
Tasi Alabastro uncovered the definition of “flâneur,” a French word that describes a man of urban affluence who can wander and observe urban life, while working on a play called “Three Days of Rain.” In his own life, Tasi views being a flâneur as walking around his hometown of San Jose, being present, looking at murals, and occasionally running into people he knows. He uses walking as a way to process creative problems or gather thoughts. That ability to be an observer is reflected in his work as an actor, visual artist, writer, and director.
Tasi’s observant nature extends to his art as he drifts between roles as an actor, director, and photographer. However, his journey into the performing arts was anything but conventional. Originally a microbiology major at San Francisco State, Tasi left for Hawaii after a breakup to help with his brother’s business. By chance, he discovered acting when he walked into the dark black box theater, and something about the environment – the smell, the nervous energy of other students – intrigued him. He became drawn to the competitive aspect of the class, where everyone had a chance to perform. His curiosity and desire to “make something out of nothing” attracted him to acting. The class sparked his interest in performing arts and became a turning point in his creative journey.
Creating an atmosphere of connection and inclusion through performance has also become core to his work. Tasi traces his care for the audience back to growing up in American Samoa, where the island community must rely heavily on one another. He also notes that humor and performance can be ways of coping with challenging circumstances like natural disasters in Samoan culture. In contrast to feeling like an outsider during his school years, the culture of inclusion encourages Tasi to create experiences through his work where everyone feels welcome and can participate.
Tasi’s multifaceted career spans acting, directing, stage design, and photography. He was featured in “Yes, We’re Open,” a film on Prime Video where he worked with Perry Shen, an actor he had admired since his early blogging days. Another pivotal role was in a City Lights Theater Company production of “Three Days of Rain,” where he tackled the challenge of portraying two contrasting characters—a neurotic son and his reserved father. These roles were pivotal in helping Tasi grow as a performer and expand his understanding of his craft. Currently, Tasi is working toward creating a graphic novel that combines his interests in theater, illustration, and storytelling.
In this conversation, Tasi shares his unlikely transition from science to the stage, how his upbringing in American Samoa influenced his perspective on community, and his thoughts on fostering inclusion within the arts while embracing his identity as an occasional outsider.
Join Tasi Alabastro on July 26, 2025, at San Jose Stage for The Contemporary Asian Theater Scene’s (CATS) second annual Playwright Festival. This year’s festival proudly features five newly commissioned 10-minute plays by a dynamic mix of emerging and established AAPI playwrights. Under the direction of Artistic Producer Jeffrey Lo, these staged readings are brought to life by AAPI actors and directors, including Tasi, committed to bold, authentic storytelling. Get Tickets.
Fountain Alley in Downtown San Jose is set to welcome Bitterbuck, a new bar and cafe concept from co-owners Cache Bouren and Tomoyo Yoshinaga. The opening at 30 Fountain Alley #170 is scheduled for summer 2025.
Bitterbuck will operate as a coffee shop during the day and a cocktail bar at night. The unique concept focuses on Amaro and bitters, with no lemon or lime juices used in cocktails. They’ll serve coffee in the morning, transitioning to cocktails in the afternoon, and offer a European-style drinking experience with a techy twist of ordering by phone. The establishment aims to create a community space focusing on quality drinks, local partnerships with roasters and bakers, and a niche cocktail approach. Check out the menu.
Bitterbuck follows some legendary San Jose drinking establishments, including Cash Only and Haberdasher, which are also run by the pair. Tomoyo’s path to bar ownership and now launching Bitterbuck began when she moved to San Jose from Chicago to practice judo at San Jose State University’s Olympic training center. She competed nationally and internationally, frequently competing against notable judoka, Ronda Rousey, in her division. The discipline and competitive drive gained from judo, combined with needing to pay her way through college and sport, would later influence her career in bartending.
While studying humanities at San Jose State, Tomoyo worked as a barista and server to support herself. She began bartending at the Voodoo Lounge, where her training involved being quickly immersed in the job. The Voodoo Lounge exposed her to San Jose’s local arts and music scene. However, her discovery of Single Barrel, a new speakeasy in downtown San Jose, marked a turning point.
Single Barrel, opened in 2010 by Cache Bouren and his partner Joe Gradillas, introduced Tomoyo to a deeper world of craft cocktails. She was fascinated by the historical and sociological aspects of bartending, which aligned with her background in the humanities. The bar focused on personalized service, with bartenders “flavor profiling” each guest to create custom drinks. This approach starkly contrasted the “Red Bulls and vodkas” bar scene in San Jose at the time.
Tomoyo worked at Single Barrel until Cache took over ownership and reopened as Haberdasher at the same location. She became instrumental in that new project, brainstorming the evolution of the concept and aiming to streamline operations while maintaining the intimate, tailored experience. Tomoyo also came up with the name “Haberdasher,” intending to capture the idea of “tailor-made” cocktails. As Cache began to step back from daily operations at Habberdasher, Tomoyo took on more authority, becoming the bar manager and building her own team. Her focus expanded from mastering cocktails to becoming a more effective leader, a skill she continuously develops by learning from other professionals and embracing direct communication. Tomoyo’s leadership has now grown to include co-ownership of Cash Only and Bitterbuck in Downtown San Jose.
In this conversation, Tomoyo shares her experiences competing in judo, her introduction to bartending, the curiosity and drive behind her work, and what folks can expect from Bitterbuck.
Nicko Moulinos, executive chef at new American restaurant Eos & Nyx, isn’t one to get boxed in. With a menu that spans the globe, his restaurant’s fusion dishes hop borders with enthusiasm. Because, why limit yourself to just one kind of cuisine? “I take inspiration from everything,” Nicko says as he crosses heavily-inked forearms. “It could be an ingredient. It could be a technique. It could be a dish.” On any given night, you can spot Nicko hustling alongside the rest of his team in the restaurant’s open kitchen. Look for the man with the immaculate beard and man bun, a bandana tied around his forehead karate-kid style.
Curious about the driving force behind this chef’s fluid and flexible approach to culinary creativity? You’ll find answers in his personal journey. After growing up on Corfu, Nicko worked in kitchens preparing varying cuisines, including Le Bernardin (French), Kith/Kin (Afro-Caribbean), as well as Taverna and Dio Deka (Greek). Today, Eos & Nyx’s worldly menu finds inspiration from across the 22 countries bordering the Mediterranean as well as Mexican, Japanese, Vietnamese, and Korean cuisines to reflect the Bay Area’s diverse demographic. “Californian cuisine is almost like the Mediterranean,” notes Nicko. “It’s a big medley.”
One adjective you’ll never hear as a descriptor of Nicko’s cooking is “traditional”—and he’s just fine with that. “Traditional is very subjective,” Nicko holds. “You can have a local dish called pastitsio, which is the Greek version of lasagna, and they’ll tell you when you go to the islands that it’s made with bucatini. Then you go to the mainland, and they tell you it’s made with penne rigate. And they’re going to argue. Guys, it’s the same thing. You’re just changing the pasta.” You won’t find Nicko sweating that small stuff. “We’re honoring those traditions. We use them as inspiration, we use them as guidelines, and then we build on that.”
This by no means implies that Nicko doesn’t appreciate culture. “Being in the melting pot is great because you can get inspired by so many different things—but growing up somewhere where everybody’s kind of the same and you feel that you can fit also has its charm,” he says with evident nostalgia. Back on Corfu, “Everybody knows your father, right? And if you tried to be a scoundrel, he’s going to find out.”
But back to the dining room. Like its chef, the menu at Eos & Nyx makes bold moves. Take Nicko’s crispy fried Brussels sprouts with smoked bacon, capers, and pickled onions, tossed with chili honey and bacon jam. “Pork goes with everything. I don’t care what you say,” Nicko declares. Each ingredient is packed with flavor, and balances the dish’s other components through contrasts. “Like a rollercoaster,” the chef describes.
Another standout veggie dish is the “everything” carrots. “I wanted to pay tribute to the philosophy of nose-to-tail [eating]. So we’re doing root-to-stem,” he explains. Roasted carrot chunks and raw carrot shavings are accompanied with a carrot crumble made from dehydrated peels, carrot oil and a ginger carrot puree. “If they grow together, it goes together,” Nicko says.
You’ll also find plenty of handmade noodles, ranging from rigatoni to tagliatelle. “Unfortunately, I didn’t have a nonna that would make fresh pasta. But once I was taught the proper ways of pasta and how pasta should be treated, it’s very hard to go back.”
While 80 percent of Eos & Nyx’s ingredients are sourced from California (like rockfish from Half Moon Bay and honeycomb from Salinas), the rest come from around the world. That means octopus from Spain and Portugal, dorade from Greece, king salmon from New Zealand, and bluefin from Osaka. “Our food is built in such a way that less is more,” Nicko insists. “We’re not trying to hide behind sauces and foo foo garnishes.”
Eos & Nyx, named after the Greek goddesses of day and night, also welcomes the morning crowd. “The brunch menu is the younger brother that’s a little more of a rascal. And the dinner menu is the older brother that’s a little more sophisticated,” Nicko describes. His lighthearted side shines in the brunch offerings. “It’s all about puns,” he says, calling out items like Friends with Benedicts and Another One Bites the Crust.
As Nicko prepares to dive back into the fray of the kitchen, he takes a final moment to survey the full dining room with a satisfied smile. “When I met with ownership, this was literally two by fours and concrete—nothing else in here.” Not so now. The space, bathed in an amber glow, is a masterpiece of natural elements—plants twining through the light fixtures, indoor trees stationed at the center of the room. Ferns and beds of river rocks border the booth seats, evoking elevated park benches. If tonight is anything to go by, Eos & Nyx is sure to flourish for years to come—with plenty of plates of lobster tagliatelle, lamb chops, and loukoumades along the way.
Join bassist, composer, and arranger Saúl Sierra and his quintet at the 35th San Jose Jazz Summer Fest on Sunday, August 10, 2025 at 1 PM at the Montgomery Theater in Downtown San Jose for a performance that combines Saúl’s roots in Mexico City, the rhythms of Latin America, and the soul of jazz.
In this conversation, Saúl Sierra discusses his upbringing, the power of rhythm to communicate across borders, and how improvisation keeps his music fresh, rooted in tradition, and free. With material already brewing for two more albums, Saúl remains committed to honoring tradition while expanding its possibilities through music.
Born and raised in Mexico City, Saúl’s early musical education wasn’t found in conservatories—it was shaped by the city. He first picked up the upright bass before switching to electric to play rock en Español and rock covers with local bands. His interests evolved toward Latin music, which was hugely popular in Mexico City, encompassing Cuban, Caribbean, and folkloric styles that would later become an integral part of his artistic voice. Saúl returned to the acoustic upright bass while studying at Berklee College of Music in Boston.
Since moving to the Bay Area after graduating in 1999, Saúl has been ingrained in the Latin jazz scene. A member and co-founder of bands like Vission Latina and El Tren Trio, his collaborators include Carlos Caro (percussion), Julio Perez (percussion), and Marco Díaz (piano/trumpet) —musicians who also perform on his most recent album, Caminos. With experience teaching Latin Jazz and music, Saúl also cites teaching as a source of creative inspiration, deepening his interest in cross-cultural storytelling through sound. His new album, Caminos, produced with support from a 2022 InterMusic SF musical grant, showcases diverse Pan-American rhythms and blends jazz with folkloric traditions across the Americas.
Creating Caminos was a deeply collaborative process. Saúl laid down bass tracks, then worked with his ensemble, encouraging both structure and spontaneity. While guiding collaborators on his vision of the compositions, Saúl also allowed freedom for personal expression. Ultimately, he believed gathering contributions from diverse musicians would strengthen the tone, rhythm, and authenticity of the project. Whether recording a Cuban changüí with seamless 4/4 to 5/4 transitions or grappling with the complex rhythmic structure of Mexican Son Jarocho, each track reflects a lifetime of listening, learning, and letting go.
Caminos draws influence from rhythms like Venezuelan merengue in ⅝, Joropo, and Peruvian festejo and landó, comparing them to Mexican traditions in both timing and harmonic tension. While he continues to rehearse and adapt Caminos for live quintet performances based on the energy of the performance, Saúl’s musical vision extends far beyond this album, incorporating pieces from Caminos into different sets. As a bassist, he believes it is his role to provide the nuanced foundation that allows these diverse styles to shine.
Join singer-songwriter Ren Geisick to celebrate the release of her new album on June 21, 2025, at Art Boutiki in San Jose. Her full-length album, The Place I Planned to Go, will be released on June 20, 2025, featuring 14 original songs that showcase her evolution from a jazz vocalist to an Americana songbird, grounded in storytelling, perseverance, and hope. Get Tickets.
Ren was previously featured in Issue 9.4 “Perform” & Episode #33 of the Content Magazine Podcast, where we talk in depth about her roots growing up in Los Gatos, California, her education in Jazz vocal performance, and some early Jazz crossover and funk projects.
Originally from Los Gatos, California, Ren Geisick began singing at a young age. She earned an Ella Fitzgerald Scholarship, studied Jazz vocal performance at California State University, Long Beach, and was named an Outstanding Jazz Vocalist by DownBeat Magazine—but her identity as an Americana Singer-Songwriter has long been in motion. With influences like Willie Nelson, Patsy Cline, and Guy Clark, her latest music draws from the outlaw country tradition—authentic, stripped-down, and emotionally direct. In 2017, she released her debut album, Ren, Love Song, produced by Jesse Harris, marking a significant step toward Americana, which blended folk with jazz sensibilities and showcased her deeply personal songwriting voice. Since then, Ren has leaned fully into Country music. While she doesn’t set out to specifically write country songs, her singing style and focus on honest, lyrical narratives have made Americana a natural fit for her.
The Place I Planned to Go centers on themes of hope and perseverance, especially in the context of being a musician. The album explores the struggles of progressing in life and music, maintaining optimism in the face of challenges, and finding compassion. It includes songs that reflect on the difficulties of the music industry, like the humorous “15 Cents” and more introspective tracks like “Weakness” and “No Mercy at All.” The title track, “The Place I Plan to Go,” was written during the pandemic and reflects on life not turning out exactly as expected yet maintaining hope for the future.
In this conversation, Ren gives us a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the production of this record and collaboration with producer Mikey Ross. Ren opens up about the challenges of sustaining a music career today, her reasons for pushing forward, and her connection to the music she creates.
Follow Ren on Instagram @ren4eva and visit her website, rensings.com, for show dates and updates. Don’t miss her album release show on June 21, 2025, at Art Boutiki in San Jose. Get Tickets.
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“…I would pick up one of my dad’s guitars at home and download tabs from the Internet and try to teach myself Green Day songs.”
Raised on San Jose’s South Side by two social workers, local punk guitarist Mike Huguenor’s upbringing was culturally eclectic. His parents actively encouraged the consumption of all genres of literature, film, and music. If he wanted a particular book, they would purchase it for him. Musically, he was raised listening to the likes of Van Halen and other ’80s “fun rock” groups with his mom, jazz and opera with his dad, and Huey Lewis with both his parents. His dad routinely made mixtapes for him and his brother to listen to. When it came time to choose an instrument for middle school music classes, Huguenor settled on the alto saxophone, an instrument he remembers his father playing. But his excitement for it was no match for his obsession with punk rock. “I was playing sax in the school band, but then I would pick up one of my dad’s guitars at home and download tabs from the internet and try to teach myself Green Day songs.”
Huguenor had discovered the genre through San Jose’s now defunct rock station KOME. It was where he first heard acts like the Offspring and the Bay Area’s own Green Day. Shortly thereafter, a relative of Huguenor introduced him to the Berkeley-based underground band Operation Ivy. “When I heard them, it just opened up everything for me. They were my first real favorite band,” Huguenor says. About 11 years old at the time, he thought it was the best music he ever heard and still thinks their sole, self-titled album is “one of the best punk records ever.”
Huguenor is not alone in that sentiment. Despite the band’s short, three-year tenure, Operation Ivy’s influence on modern punk music—especially the ska subgenre—is difficult to overstate. Dozens of bands, including Goldfinger, Green Day, and Rancid, have released covers of Operation Ivy songs. Most recently, Machine Gun Kelly licensed the hook lyric from their song “Knowledge” for his song “all I know.”
Huguenor was given a starter electric guitar by his ever-supportive parents for his thirteenth birthday. “That’s when I started thinking about it intentionally and started writing hypothetical songs for bands that didn’t really exist.” Huguenor soon formed his first band and took his songwriting from hypothetical to actual. “Let’s just do it,” he recalls saying to a friend. “All these bands are all just people doing it. Let’s start a band.”
That sentiment gave birth to the short-lived punk group, Shooting Blanks. From there, Huguenor experimented with several punk acts throughout high school, but it wasn’t until shortly after graduating in 2002 that he formed his “real, I-actually-want-to-make-a-band, band,” Shinobu. “At the time, I thought it was going to be my not-punk band,” he says. “But in spirit it ended up being so, and that was the community that accepted us.”
After releasing several albums and touring occasionally over the course of six years, Huguenor soon found himself the lone member of Shinobu remaining in California. Another South Bay act, Pteradon, was in a similar situation, having lost their guitarist to the tech industry. Huguenor joined them and formed Hard Girls in 2008. Hard Girls’ songwriting process consisted of simply jamming a riff over and over together until it became a song, as opposed to Huguenor being the primary in Shinobu’s process. Huguenor found the new approach “very freeing.” It got him thinking about music differently, he said. “I was trying to write guitar parts that were interesting and were non-chordal. I was trying to fill out a song with just one guitar and have it sound huge and have it not just be strumming chords.”
Huguenor quickly found that composition wasn’t the only major difference between the two acts. “Shinobu would play San Jose shows and there would be 20 people there. Then Hard Girls would play shows and there would be 150 people there. It seemed like the scene had changed a lot.” Shortly after the formation of Hard Girls, Huguenor received a life-changing phone call. He was told that Jesse Michaels, frontman of aforementioned Operation Ivy, was starting a new musical project and wanted Hard Girls to be a part of it. Michaels had been in the South Bay recording some demos for the new project with Asian Man Records, the same label who had released Hard Girls’ first album. While recording, it was obvious the tracks needed a full band behind them. Mike Park, founder of Asian Man, suggested Hard Girls. The quartet became Classics of Love. “I was just completely blown away at the thought of it and could not believe it,” Huguenor says. “It was a dream situation.”
Hard Girls continued writing and touring at the same time as Classics of Love. Despite consisting mostly of the same members, the type of music differed significantly. “Hard Girls was writing more indie rock music,” Huguenor said. “Jesse was writing straight up ’80s hardcore punk songs. So we were playing way faster, in a totally different harmonic register.”
Over four years, Classics of Love released an EP and a full-length album that spawned tours in both the United States and the United Kingdom. Michaels then relocated to Los Angeles and continues releasing music under the Classics of Love name. Huguenor looks back at the time fondly, having had the opportunity to work so closely with one of his musical heroes. “I don’t really feel a lot of ownership of it. I am just happy to have been a part of it.”
Since then, Huguenor has gone on to record and perform with other acts, both local—such as the Bruce Lee Band and Teens in Trouble— and beyond—such as Dan Andriano in the Emergency Room and Jeff Rosenstock. He currently writes, records, and performs regularly with Rosenstock. In 2020, he also released a solo album of instrumental music in which he plays all the parts on the guitar.
Huguenor’s path has become iconic for many San Jose punk rockers. Ask any musician or fan in the local punk or punk-adjacent music scenes, and they’ll instantly recognize his name. While his stint working with a punk legend may have accelerated that image, Huguenor has now blazed his own reputation that easily stands on its own. “Every year I meet more people who have Shinobu tattoos and who say we inspired them. I really appreciate all their love for the band. It makes me really happy to know that we did connect with people.”
He hopes he can leverage his experiences to help those struggling to find their break. He also wants to see the local music scene grow and thrive. “The punk community has never been able to get a foothold here, and I feel like it needs that. It needs to be allowed to have a permanent space. I need to be involved in some way locally because I need to advocate for the people who are currently teenagers, who have nowhere to play because there’s no room that accommodates major touring bands in San Jose.”
Historian Lewis Mumford famously stated, “The timelessness of art is its capacity to represent the transformation of endless becoming into being.” History is a testament to the people, families, towns, cities, and society that are constantly changing and evolving. Art of a specific time period can bring into focus the spirit of the era, capturing a time of transformation, and revealing a guiding principle of the past.
For illustrator and graffiti artist RC, art can illuminate the zeitgeist of an era by utilizing the seemingly ordinary objects that populate people’s everyday lives. More importantly, creating art connects RC to his family, who have played an integral part in San Francisco Bay Area history.
To understand RC as an artist, we have to begin with a significant piece of Bay Area history. The late 1800s in California was a confusing time; ranchos of the Old West were slowly divided up, sold, or taken, and the days of vaqueros, dons, and wealthy land ownership were coming to an end. The transition from Mexican government land grants to American settler claims under statehood was messy. Before this transition, however, was the Robles family, who arrived in Monterey in 1797. In 1847, brothers Teodoro and Secundino Robles purchased Rancho Rincon de San Francisquito, 8,800 acres of beautiful grazing land located in what is now south Palo Alto. The family home stood at Alma Street and San Antonio Road, where Don Secundino and his wife, Dona Maria Antonia, became known for their hospitality—a stage stop between San Francisco and San Jose. They would offer refreshments, hold bear and bullfights, host fandangos, and allow hunters to ride Secundino’s beautiful horses across the property. Secundino and the Robles name became a cornerstone of late nineteenth-century peninsula life, known as the land of wealth and abundance of goodwill towards all.
“I don’t think there are any prerequisites for how a really great artist can come to be, except one—I think they need to possess a rebel or outsider spirit in some way, and it should be very natural.”
Secundino and Maria Antonia Robles are RC’s great-great-great-great-great-grandparents. Their story and its role in the history of the Bay Area, when the Old West began to meet the modern age, holds significant value for RC when the Old West began to meet the modern age. During this time, innovation and the natural environment lived hand-in-hand. “That time period was interesting because it was soon enough ago that we relate to the objects seen from that time, but they were created with simple materials (wood, glass, metal). There was a boom of modern-day conveniences being invented constantly, but everything still had a natural beauty to it. Most of the objects in your house back then would have been one-of-a-kind, but you could have still felt you were at the edge of innovation.”
The spirit of innovation and entrepreneurship of the Old West influences RC’s approach to art and helps frame the visual aesthetic of his work. RC explains, “I don’t think there are any prerequisites for how a really great artist can come to be, except one—I think they need to possess a rebel or outsider spirit in some way, and it should be very natural. The overarching spirit of the West is that of creative outsiders.” RC carries this spirit as his art and life occupies a space between conformity and rebellion.
RC is a software engineer—a job that pays the bills and provides health insurance—but his real passion is his graffiti work. The challenge of working within the confines of letter-shape rules and limitations, while simultaneously creating art where one feels they shouldn’t, is a welcomed one. “Graffiti is a mental and physical challenge, which gives a higher sense of achievement in return after overcoming those challenges.” The discipline of working within a certain form while applying it through a medium historically seen as vandalism mirrors the rebel spirit of the Old West.
Graffiti took hold of RC in high school when all he wanted to do was draw and tag. As his skills grew, people started hiring him for flyers, logos, or website design. Full-time graphic design wasn’t paying the bills, so he transitioned and started doing hybrid design and software engineering work. It wasn’t until the recent California wildfires and the pandemic that RC found the streets less crowded than usual. “Everyone was staying inside. I remember thinking it’d be a great time to get back on the street again in those smokey years. Then, when the pandemic hit, it was like a very not-subtle ask from the universe to paint all the Bandos in my neighborhood.”
The letter forms in his graffiti work have a heaviness to them; solid and firmly planted as if they were cornerstones to a building. Yet the letters turn and stretch into each other, bringing a lightness and life-like quality to his work. RC’s fine art illustrations follow in his graffiti’s footsteps as his subjects seem to hold a particular shape, like that of a letter form, with lines that flow and bend in the same direction, giving the subjects a sense of confinement. In one black and white illustration entitled “The Long Hat Horse Rider,” a vaquero sits upon a horse. RC illustrates a half-wooden and half-fabric horse whose legs fold upon themselves into wheels. A bird cage sits upon the haunches of the horse as the birds stick their heads out between the bars. The transformational time of the last decades of the Old West produced in ornate detail, grace RC’s illustrations. Their overall stamp-like quality further suggests the antiquity of the subjects.
As beautiful as the visual remnants of a bygone time are, those times were hard. Eventually, Secundino’s famous hospitality was slowly taken advantage of by those who desired his land, and in 1876 his estate was down to a mere 300 acres. Though the Robles family had to conform to the new norms Americans brought with them, a quiet rebellion took place as Secundino and Maria Antonia never wavered from opening up their home, offering a drink, and allowing visitors to enjoy their land. The Robles hospitality continued into the early 1890s and refreshments were handed out by Maria Antonia to passing bicyclists until she died in 1897.
RC continues to carry his family, their journey, and history with him through his art. Growing up, drawing with his older sister and grandparents planted the seed for RC to embrace the philosophy of staying true to himself. He has carried them through tough times as his art has pulled him out of a “dysfunctional state” after losing a family member to suicide. He carries them now as his graffiti work adorns the concrete landscape of Silicon Valley, the same valley where his ancestors rode across endless pastures and became known for their famous hospitality.
If art can represent the “transformation of endless becoming into being,” then it’s RC’s family and their endless becoming that his art strives to bring into being. “The story of the West, in particular, is one of having no backup plan and being on your own should something go wrong, and without any established settlements to help you, given it was the new land. My great-grandparents had 29 children. Only eight of them lived to adulthood, and I can only imagine what they went through. The strength they had to have back then is inspiring to me, and I think about it a lot when I’m drawing.”
West Valley College’s Bill & Leila Cilker School of Art and Design has a bold goal: cultivating systemic change by offering accessible arts education. The school achieves this through its wide range of interdisciplinary offerings designed to encourage well-rounded and thoughtful students.
Cilker School of Art and Design is coming up on its second year in its new Visual Arts Complex, which opened in the fall of 2023. The building houses five different art studios for painting, digital media, sculpture, ceramics, as well as computer labs and machine shops. Designed to be a hub for the arts, the facility helps students further explore their interests and experiment with their craft in a safe and welcoming environment.
The complex is the site for the school’s 2025 Art + Design EXPO, which celebrates graduating students. The annual three-day event features work from current and graduating students across Cilker’s diverse set of disciplines, including architecture, art, graphic design, fashion, industrial design, film, music, photography, theater, and dance. The EXPO provides a space for students, faculty, and guests to connect across disciplines and collaborate, in line with Cilker’s goal of systemic change.
Clyde Elloso took his first class in fashion by accident; his high school mistakenly enrolled him in the wrong elective. Although he’d consciously cultivated his personal style, Elloso had never thought about designing clothes before. He stayed in the class, eventually taking a tour of West Valley College and its fashion lab. Elloso knew then that’s where he belonged. Elloso was born in the Philippines and moved to the US with his family in 2012. As a kid, he felt like he was always caught between two cultures—Asian and American. From this, he developed a mentality that would later influence his artistic perspective: doing what he wants to do and avoiding people pleasing. Now, in his second year at West Valley, he’s in a “gothic” design phase. At the beginning of his career, Elloso is excited to explore a wide range of aesthetics in his work.
Natalie Pineda learns something from each character she plays. Acting has helped develop her confidence as she embodies different roles. As a child, Pineda always wanted to act, but her parents couldn’t afford community theater, and her high school didn’t have a drama program. She later became a nursing major at West Valley College, but fell behind during the COVID-19 pandemic. Then, in the spring of 2021, she attended the school’s production of Into the Woods. The show changed her whole perspective—she decided to change her major to theater. She enrolled in her first acting class for the fall semester and auditioned for her first role a year later. Since then, she’s performed in seven shows with the school and has taken all the acting classes West Valley has to offer. She’s hoping to transfer to UC Santa Barbara to continue her theater major in the fall.
Griffin Hennessy told himself that if he was ever injured skateboarding, he’d pivot to painting. After he broke his leg skateboarding two years ago, Hennessy decided to enroll in West Valley College’s studio art program. Years earlier, Hennessy studied business at West Valley and later moved to Washington. While working in sales, he also painted. He realized he didn’t see a future for himself in sales, and his injury further catapulted him into majoring in studio art. He’s now finished his degree at West Valley and hopes to transfer to UC Santa Cruz. Hennessy attributes parts of his surrealist style to his love of bold and wacky visuals from skating subculture. He works as a painter, illustrator, and sculptor, and says his process is materials-focused. The constraints of his materials and space help him conceptualize the direction for his work.
Join South FIRST FRIDAYS ArtWalk SJ on Friday, June 6, and Saturday, June 7, for the 16th Annual SubZERO Festival to celebrate local subcultures of art, music, craft, and tech in San Jose’s SoFA District. This two-day celebration features outdoor stages, vendors, artists, designers, musicians, and performers, forming a creative mashup of indie spirit and innovation.
When Cherri Lakey and Brian Eder first launched Two Fish Design, their plan wasn’t just to continue their graphic design work—it was to build something radically different. Inspired by a yin-yang logo of two fish swimming upstream, the duo adopted the motto: “Those who swim against the stream come to the source.” This philosophy of challenging the status quo and seeing what others overlook became the heartbeat of their now-iconic creative ventures: Anno Domini Gallery, Kaleid Gallery, Phantom Galleries, South FIRST FRIDAYS, and SubZERO Festival.
When they chose San Jose over the more established art hubs like San Francisco, they saw possibility within the void. San Jose could be viewed as a cultural wasteland at the time, but Brian and Cherri were determined to see what others didn’t. While Anno Domini Gallery started slow with its first show, its second, featuring a young Shepard Fairey, was electric, with a crowd forming around the block. That spark expanded their vision to include impact-driven experiments, such as Shark Bite Art, a massive public art initiative that raised $300,000 for local nonprofits while paying artists fairly.
To Brian and Cherri, Anno Domini was never just a gallery; It was “The Second Coming of Art and Design” —a sanctuary for street art, counterculture, and art as activism. Their curatorial philosophy is radical yet straightforward in that they curate the artists rather than the work. This belief in autonomy and trust, especially toward first-time or nontraditional creators, allowed for a space where raw and urban voices could thrive. Furthermore, when opportunities were scarce, they launched Phantom Galleries with the intention of revitalizing downtown San Jose by transforming empty storefronts into art spaces and creating safe environments for all artists.
The SubZERO Festival emerged from this same impulse. What began in 2006 as the “Street Market,” a simple stage and vendor tables outside the gallery, has grown into a flagship celebration of subculture and creative rebellion. Today, SubZERO offers a platform for emerging voices and unconventional formats, featuring experimental fashion shows, live music, and interactive installations that present raw, accessible art.
In this conversation, Brian and Cherri recount their journey from design to street art, their curatorial risks, the birth of SubZERO, and how they continue their hand in shaping San Jose’s cultural ecosystem.
Driving through the streets of Oakland or San Francisco, you may come across ginormous painted calla lilies bursting along the side of a building in a gradient of greens. Lines of gold tracing birds and leaves might catch your eye through an office window. These blossoming worlds are the works of Jet Martinez, a Mexican American painter based in the East Bay.
“It’s in the making of things,” says Jet Martinez, who has been an influential figure in the San Francisco Bay Area public arts scene for nearly three decades. After studying Spanish literature, he pursued a formal arts education at the San Francisco Art Institute in 1997, where he earned a BFA in painting and printmaking. Since then, he has left his mark on walls around the world in places like Java, Oaxaca, and Zurich, as well as cities in the United States, such as Denver, Miami, and New Orleans. “Painting is a way of processing. It helps me process my life, whether an argument or a problem. It’s how I process my sense of self.”
Many of Jet’s murals feature a variety of flora and fauna, deriving his composition and bold color choice from traditional Mexican folk art. Born in Tuxpan, Veracruz, Mexico, and raised in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Jet is inspired by his native culture’s roots in pottery, weaving, and embroidery. He creates rhythmic patterns in his public artwork, allowing him to bridge the gap between his life in Mexico and his teen years in the United States. “I grew up with graffiti, White Walls, and Juxtapoz, but I also come from the melting pot that is Mexico. I developed my mural style so I could just step up to a wall and go. Before, I would try to make an intricate painting, and it just took too long.”
“When you expose your vulnerabilities, it allows others to do the same. It’s a much more nutritious conversation.” -Jet Martinez
Jet is best known for his murals, but his artistic practice extends beyond public art. He’s applied his designs to prints, installations, and streetwear, allowing his work to reach different audiences. Over the years, Jet has worked with several big-name companies and brands. A quick Google search will show large walls covered in brightly colored roses and birds surrounding public parks and black and white peonies printed on sweatshirts. “A lot of times, people ask me to do some iteration of something I’ve already done. And I’ve had this major hang-up with like, qué dirán?” He adds, “Creating art is a fast lane to someone else with mutual understanding. My work gives me access to other people, and it allows others to access what I want them to have.”
When working on commissioned art, an artist often must modify their artistic vision in order to make a client’s dream come true. Whether considering branding or the color palette of office furniture, Jet finds himself constantly refining his florals into another’s aesthetic. “The murals are jobs. In 2022, I had a lot of work, a lot of commissions, but I didn’t have time to do my art—to think, to dream, to experiment.” After that realization, Jet rented his own studio away from home, having shared a space with his wife and fellow artist, Kelly Ording. “I began to carve out more space and time. Now, three years later, I feel back in touch with being an artist.”
Between big mural projects, Jet problem-solves personal work in his studio day and night. Bordering the Oakland Estuary, its big open windows, exposed brick wall, and mini fridge make up an artist’s ideal studio. Years of work sitting kitty-corner to stacks of milk crates holding a seemingly endless supply of aerosol cans. The space is complete with a few roof leaks, a thriving monstera plant, and a desk for the occasional email. Jet sits on his futon, enjoying a pastry from a local bakery and drinking licorice tea to get in a creative mindset. “Making art in private is essential to our society. The creation of a project is the creation of a problem to work on or solve. I think that’s a lot of what artists do. We make problems for ourselves. El hacer por el hecho de hacer.”
Concentrated time in his studio has allowed Jet the space and time to question his process and what his work represents. “I feel like I let my family down when I’m not creating. My practice is ingrained in my well-being, and I’m a much more balanced person when I’m making art…when I’m making something that wasn’t there before.” While Jet’s body of work is layered with personal narrative, it may not be apparent at first glance. His recent practice has allowed him to traverse his mixed-race background, combining the cultures and communities in which he grew up. The English and German heritage he inherited from his mother doesn’t tend to show up in his work as overtly as his time living under the Mexican sun. “Often, I feel just fine with who I am, but I sometimes question whether I have access to certain Mexican traditions.” Jet immigrated to the States at the age of 14. “Not knowing whether I have permission to access this lineage of work is a real question that is always in my head. At the same time, I also feel like my intention is to create something that feels like it belongs here, specifically in the Bay Area.”
Jet’s work has been shown in commercial galleries, both nationally and internationally. A combination of solo exhibitions and group shows have featured his distinctive linework and ornate details, the pieces finding homes in the hands of collectors. In 2024, his solo exhibition A Language of Flowers was on display at Heron Arts in San Francisco. His next solo show will open on June 6, 2025, in Downtown San Jose at MACLA (Movimiento de Arte y Cultura Latino Americana).
The exhibition will feature work five years in the making, beginning with an experimental concept developed during the COVID-19 pandemic. “At the time, I was making a lot of really quiet, muted work just because everything felt so murky. I didn’t feel like doing bright, exuberant stuff.” As the pandemic waned, Jet found himself needing more light in his work. He returned to his colors and penchant for strong, decorative design. “Sometimes, art feels so persistent. Especially in these times—in times of war, in times of great conflict—to make something beautiful feels like an act of resistance.” The series of twenty original works examines the passage of time and the motifs that make Jet’s work uniquely his own while interrogating the need to start over and try again.
“This new process has been a total deep dive into my fear of repeating myself. In that process of repeating myself, I’m seeing that none of this is the same. When you expose your vulnerabilities, it allows others to do the same. It’s a much more nutritious conversation.”
Join Jet for the opening of his solo exhibition, “Arbolito” at MACLA/Movimiento de Arte y Cultura Latino Americana on the first Friday of June 2025, 06/06/25. This exhibition presents new work, drawing inspiration from the rich traditions of his native culture, where ornate patterns and abstract forms are combined to explore the passage of time.
“Arbolito” is on view at MACLA June 06, 2025 – August 10, 2025
SPANISH VERSION
“I think instrumental music is the most compassionate form of music, because it listens to what you’re feeling instead of telling you how to feel.”
As a teen, Yvette Young dreamed of being in a band. But while studying performing arts education and fine arts at UCLA, she dreamed of showcasing work in a gallery. During the day, Yvette taught afterschool art classes in Cupertino and Sunnyvale, and for a short while even did tattoos.
Ironically, art school taught her to break the rules. During peer critiques, she and her classmates trained to stand in front of the class and explain the choices in their paintings. “I learned that nobody can argue with ‘because I wanted to,’ ” she says. “There’s so many resources out there telling you the right way to do something, but at the end of the day, it’s okay to do something you want to do because you want to.”
Eventually, this would guide her through the darkest tunnels in the music industry. But first, she fortified others as they asserted their own voices. As a portfolio coach helping high schoolers apply to art school, she often found herself asking them: “Cool, I know your mom wants you to go to Stanford, but what do you want to do? It’s not your mom’s life, it’s yours.”
Yvette understood the battles they were facing. In her childhood, on top of achieving perfect grades at school, she prepped for piano competitions up to four hours a day—unsupervised. No sleepovers, and no shows. Thankfully, there was MySpace, and Yvette found local bands online. She snuck out to shows and made friends there. But at sixteen, buckling under the intense pressure to compete, Yvette developed an eating disorder and got pulled out of school.
While in the hospital, her parents bought her a guitar. “I’m so thankful to them for that,” she says. Though her upbringing was relentlessly driven by her parents’ dream to raise a classical prodigy, Yvette appreciates that her parents introduced her to different forms of art. “I think the best thing you can do is to expose your kid to a lot of different art forms, and then teach them that they are autonomous,” she shares.
As Yvette taught herself to play acoustic guitar, her own music took shape—intricate and meditative, but also “angular and surprising.” She delighted in the way it amplified anything she felt. “Lyrics are good at telling you how to feel, right? It dictates the mood of the song in general,” she says. “But I think instrumental music is the most compassionate form of music. It listens to what you’re feeling instead of telling you how to feel.”
She also wanted to subvert stereotypes. “I kind of detested the thought that people would hear my gender through my music.” At the time, witnessing a tendency for women to be written off as singers, Yvette didn’t want to be pocketed into a singer-songwriter genre like “coffee shop core.”
In early 2014, Yvette released her first EP Acoustics. Still an art teacher living in San Jose, she started a band with friends—the first iteration of Covet. With her virtuosic style in the spotlight, Covet grew to prominence in the math rock scene. Two years later, they were on tour. But when one of her bandmate’s behavior became erratic, Yvette had to lean on her closest friends as she navigated the hostile work environment that Covet had become for her.
“I never thought that I would have to devote my energy to a legal battle. I was like, ‘Yo, I just wanna write music.’ ” While playing at Bonnaroo, in Tennessee, she had a breakdown backstage. When she looked up, she was surprised to hear clapping. “They were like, welcome, you’ve passed the rite of passage!” she recalls. Her peers in the guitar community assured her: “Everyone goes through this once in their career. Everyone gets deceived at some point…it’s just how the industry works, unfortunately.”
Yvette took about two years to extricate herself from the situation. Instead of trashing the project, she brought in a new drummer and bassist in 2022 and plans to continue touring with them. “Covet represents a little bit of my past where I still love it to death,” she says. “Guitar riffage? Hell yeah!”
But just as playing guitar for herself—all those years ago—led her to fall back in love with piano and violin, Yvette is following her curiosity towards her present interests. “The key to staying an artist isn’t curating who you are to what people expect of you,” she says. “It’s actually supposed to be the opposite.”
Lately, Yvette’s been falling in love with music production—creating soundscapes with violin, trumpet, or cello. She’s interested in supporting a larger narrative, versus being the front person. “I can work behind the scenes and actually become even more fulfilled artistically,” she says. Between long, lazy drives to her home in the mountains and joyful afternoons creating field recordings, “I’m just trying to figure out how I can stay home more, tour a little less, and just pursue what I actually find really fulfilling.”
MindFi Performance of “The Many Faces of Men” in Content Black Backdrop at the end of this post.
What happens when a hair salon becomes a stage, a friendship becomes a band, and a guitar and voice create a whole universe of sound?
MindFi is a genre-bending musical duo formed by Kia Fay and Mark Arroyo. Combining their unique talents, they have created something they describe as a wireless mind connection, a performance philosophy, and a creative community rooted in the heart of San Jose’s Japantown.
The name MindFi is a play on “Wi-Fi for your mind,” and that is exactly what their music feels like—tapping into an unseen, deeply intuitive frequency between two artists who listen as much as they play. Born from a long-standing friendship and shared vision for musical purity, the project came to life post-COVID, blending logistical simplicity with artistic depth. With just guitar and vocals, they challenge themselves to make music that feels expansive, spontaneous, and emotionally raw.
MindFi’s core performance takes place on the last Wednesday evening of every month at The Curl Consultant, Kia’s salon-turned-sound-lab on Jackson Street in Japantown. What makes MindFi especially captivating is their intentionality. Every element—from the curated audience and the timing of their Wednesday shows to their strategic approach to growth—is designed to create connection and community. The band values intimate live performances and how each set is never quite the same. Each breath, mistake, and laugh becomes part of the show, immersing listeners in the moment and the music.
Their sound is the product of weekly rehearsals, conversations, active listening, and an ongoing “what if” approach to creation: what if we play this differently? What if we strip it down? What if we rebuild it entirely? Whether covering Depeche Mode with just a guitar and voice or experimenting with chord voicings and layered effects, their goal is always to make the music feel full beyond what most would expect of a duo.
While this collaboration between artists was long in the making, Kia received a 2025 San Jose Jazz Jazz Aid Fund commissioning grant, which acted as an accelerator for the project’s artistic vision. The fund validated their presence in the local arts scene and gave them the resources to launch MindFi with autonomy and intention. They continue to grow the project on their own terms—developing recordings, videos, and plans for future performances—while bypassing the traditional struggle of new bands constantly chasing gigs.
In this conversation, Kia and Mark reveal their approach to music as a creative outlet, a community hub, and a sonic experiment. They discuss their careers making art in other contexts and how MindFi is a place where they decompress, reconnect, and remember why they fell in love with music in the first place.
Experience MindFi’s sound at Pick-Up Party 17.3 on May 16, 2025 at West Valley College. They will be opening the event at 7p. You can also experience their magic at The Curl Consultant every last Wednesday of the month in Japantown. RSVP.
In the heart of Silicon Valley, where technology and innovation reign supreme, lies a hidden gem in the world of textile art. Jaya Griscom is a talented artist who has been weaving a new path in the world of textiles, blending figurative abstraction with cutting-edge textile technology. Griscom was born in Menlo Park, California, and lived in the Bay Area through grade school. From a young age, she knew that creating art was what she was meant to do. “I knew from the time that I was quite little that art was kind of what I wanted to spend my life doing,” Griscom recalls. “From being very tiny, as soon as I could hold markers and paints and everything…that was always my first choice of what I wanted to spend my time doing.”
Her parents quickly realized that art was their daughter’s passion and enrolled her in the Peninsula School, which emphasized art programs and self-directed creative time for its students. “One of the founders of the school over 100 years ago had been a weaver. So [they] started a weaving program at the school that then ended up sticking with the curriculum, because they had the looms and they had the materials,” says Griscom. Although she didn’t know it at the time, this was the gateway into her lifelong pursuit of weaving and creating textile art. She states: “I ended up learning how to weave when I was like five, and I fell in love with the tactile experience of working with fiber.” Griscom describes textile art as soft and “that it feels good, that it’s cozy, that it’s kind of quiet and absorbs sounds.”
“Operating on a scale that is at least as large as the human body, if not larger, has a very different kind of physical relationship when you’re viewing or touching it.”
Griscom began her formal fine art education in high school, by earning a visual art certificate from Idyllwild Arts Academy. She then studied at Bard College, double majoring in studio art and religious studies. From there she moved back to the Bay Area and completed an additional degree from Cañada College in fashion design merchandising and small business management.
Eventually, she found herself back at Peninsula School, this time teaching the very same weaving class that had inspired her as a child. “It was wonderful to be back. I love being in the classroom,” recalls Griscom. As with so many educators, Griscom’s job was impacted by the pandemic, and she was forced to shift to remote work. “Teaching anything remotely is certainly not optimal, but specifically teaching something that is so hands-on and material intensive was really challenging to make work.” While she made teaching work remotely for a while, she decided it was no longer a fit without being in-person and instead focused more attention on her own practice.
Working with various types of looms, from traditional to new age, has allowed Griscom to create both simple and complex designs. Most recently, she was excited to have access to a digital Jacquard loom through a residency program at Praxis Fiber Workshop in Cleveland, Ohio. This loom unlocked new opportunities for creating more photorealistic designs, which often depict human features such as hands. “The human body is fascinating, and I think that as much as we all are so familiar with bodies…it can be a really exciting way to kind of reexamine that connection with self, as well as reexamine the hefty societal expectations placed on ourselves in terms of physical appearance.”
Griscom makes a point to share that the intersection of the ancient art of weaving and modern technology isn’t new. “There have always kind of been these parallels in this dialogue between computer coding and weaving.” She adds, “You have warp strings, your vertical strings. You have your weft strings, your horizontals. It’s either a weft on top of a warp, or it’s a warp on top of a weft. It’s a zero or one, like it is with binary code.”
Griscom has also recently started combining prints, repurposed clothes, and 3D contours into her larger-scale textile artwork. Griscom admitted that while she does enjoy art in all sizes, she’s found herself drawn to larger pieces. “Operating on a scale that is at least as large as the human body, if not larger, has a very different kind of physical relationship when you’re viewing or touching it,” she shares. As a result, she has been accepted into the Cubberley Artist Studio Program in Palo Alto, which provides a large studio for bigger projects. Griscom is excited to continue to expand her practice with new techniques and materials, weaving the old and new together.
The San José State University (SJSU) Master of Fine Arts 2024-2025 cohort presents their Lift Off 2025 group exhibition at The Institute of Contemporary Art San José, curated by Zoe Latzer. The group exhibition, titled Who ‘am’ I, without you? will be displayed in a two-part exhibition. Part 1 opened on April 4, 2025, at ICA San José, and the second exhibition opened on June 19, 2025.
In addition to their solo thesis exhibitions, SJSU MFA Candidates participate in a group exhibition and collaborate with MA Candidates in Art History and Visual Culture to create the annual Lift Off Catalogue. Hosted in 2025 at the ICA San José, the twelve students showcase a wide range of mediums, including painting, printmaking, drawing, sculpture, photography, digital art, and multidisciplinary installations.
Part 1: April 4th, 2025 – June 8, 2025 Participating Artists: Andrew Marovich, Chelsea Stewart, Erin de Jauregui, Mary Morse, Samantha Saldana, and Timna Naim. (Profiles in a previous post)
Part 2: June 19, 2025 – August 24, 2025 Participating Artists: Michelle Frey, Xiao Wu, Lisa Heikka-Huber, Mona Farrokhi, Sam Swenor, and Shea Windberg. (Profiles below)
Michelle Frey is a visual designer, painter, and installation artist working in San José, California, and completing her MFA at San Jose State University. Her provisional pictorial prints and sculptures are gestural extensions of her thoughts in tactile mediums, as well as site-specific exhibits. Frey vacillates between figuration, observation, and abstraction in paint, paper, wood, and pewter. Her work responds to the effects of current events, unseen caregiving, and labor that keep families and the environment functioning. Her current art practice focuses on interactively sharing aesthetic rituals of processing grief and the gravity of loss through various materials.
Xiao Wu is a digital media artist currently pursuing a Master of Fine Arts at San Jose State University. His skill set spans various areas, including coding, real-time interactive multimedia programming, web interactions, and AI.
He reflects on subtle changes in societal norms and the impact of technology on daily life. By experimenting with new technologies and aesthetics, he aims to translate his thoughts into tangible objects and spaces while also exploring and redefining the boundaries of digital media.
By integrating cutting-edge technologies into his art, Xiao aims to push the boundaries of digital media and engage audiences in meaningful experiences.
Lisa Heikka-Huber is a transdisciplinary artist working on her MFA in Spatial Art at San José State University. Born in Los Angeles, CA, Lisa comes from a family of accomplished sculptors. She moved to the Washington, D.C. area for high school before returning to California to pursue her studies in glass blowing at Shasta College. She holds a BFA in Sculpture and Small Metals, a BA in Political Science focused on global water policy, a Museum and Gallery Practices certificate, a minor in Art History and in Scientific Diving from Cal Poly Humboldt.
In addition to her MFA studies, Lisa is pursuing an MA in Social Sciences through Cal Poly Humboldt’s Environment and Community graduate program, where she continues to explore the intersections of art, science, and environmental advocacy.
Shea Windberg is a contemporary photographer who engages with an experimental and process-driven approach to the film medium. Blurring the boundaries between photography and abstract painting, Windberg uses analog techniques such as reprinting, re-photographing, burning, and chemical manipulation to create richly textured, highly caustic images that explore memory, anxiety, materiality, and impermanence. Their work challenges traditional notions of photography as a documentary medium, instead emphasizing the transformative potential of material process and the instability of perception. Windberg conveys a chaotic, anxious, and raw condition of being through the deployment of abstracted, deteriorating images that consist of industrial landscapes, fragmented bodies, and a world on the precipice of consuming itself.
Through digital media, graphic design, and professional knowledge of corporate marketing and communications, Sam Swenor builds graphic systems that take a stand, hold information, educate others, and communicate visual messages through digital and physical touchpoints. Her work operates in the space of institutional critique as it pertains to artifacts that have been displaced through time, with a focus on Hellenic antiquity.
Sam Swenor currently works at eBay as Lead Designer, Global Communications and as a Lecturer at San José State in the Department of Design. She received her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Graphic Design from Chapman University in 2017, and she graduated with her Master of Fine Arts in Digital Media Art from San José State University in the fall of 2024.
Mona Farrokhi is a multidisciplinary artist and designer whose work explores visual noise, sensory distortion, and interactive technology. Trained in industrial design and based in the Bay Area by way of Tehran, she blends procedural visuals, projection mapping, and spatial systems to investigate how perception breaks down—how glitches, hallucinations, and interference shape self-image.
Her installations utilize tools such as TouchDesigner, StreamDiffusion, and Kinect sensors to track bodies, process image data, and fragment reality in real-time. Projects like DOYOUSEEitNOW and The NOISE I See examine neurological and optical phenomena such as visual snow and derealization.
Her approach is both technical and personal—built by hand, wired from scratch, and shaped by feedback, distortion, and the tension between presence and misrecognition.
New Museum Los Gatos aims to inspire, illuminate, and instruct. Gabriel Coke’s atelier is a revitalization of a tradition popularized during the Renaissance. His curriculum is designed to prepare students for professional art study through a well-rounded education, mastering the basics: still life, landscape, portraits, and drawing.
Some of his youngest students’ paintings hang among the masterpieces of the visiting instructors in the gallery. A collection of self-portraits, for example, showcases incredible realism and richly reflective imagination. Gabe took his students’ photos until each had one they liked. Then, he helped them streamline their invention of symbols, colors, and illustrations to tell their life story. “It’s so important when you’re working with young kids, because they still have imagination, to let their imagination have a voice,” Gabe emphasizes. His mission is to teach the foundational skills that promote that confidence.
On the lower floor of the museum, where Gabe holds his classes, each workstation is designed to set students up for success. Lamps wrapped in cones of black tape focus light away from the eyes, shining directly on the easel without polluting the subjects to be drawn. At each station, Gabe has placed an egg. “The egg is a metaphor for something more complicated,” he explains. “I don’t want them to ever feel like they can’t do something. Almost everyone can draw an egg, but I explain everything that’s going on to make it look realistic.”
From there, a student of any age can draw something more complicated. “It’s really not me,” Gabe promises. “If you’re born with talent and ability, you’re never going to lose it.”
The San José State University (SJSU) Master of Fine Arts 2024-2025 cohort presents their Lift Off 2025 group exhibition at The Institute of Contemporary Art San José, curated by Zoe Latzer. The group exhibition, titled Who ‘am’ I, without you? will be displayed in a two-part exhibition, which opened on April 4, 2025, at ICA San José, with the second exhibition to follow in summer 2025.
In addition to their solo thesis exhibitions, SJSU MFA Candidates participate in a group exhibition and collaborate with MA Candidates in Art History and Visual Culture to create the annual Lift Off Catalogue. Hosted in 2025 at the ICA San José, the twelve students showcase a wide range of mediums, including painting, printmaking, drawing, sculpture, photography, digital art, and multidisciplinary installations.
Zoë Latzer, Curator and Director of Public Programs at ICA San José, presents a question from Judith Butler’s Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence: Who ‘Am’ I Without You? as the title for the San José State University 2025 MFA exhibition. In the context of the Anthropocene and the sixth extinction—a time defined by both devastation and interconnection- the MFA graduates all explore and grapple with their understanding of being artists during a time of technological advancements and socio-political turmoil.
Andrew Marovich is an MFA in Spatial Art whose work addresses questions of process, puzzles, and riddles. He is a skilled craftsman and mixes media, but always comes back to working with hand-done metalworking processes.
Chelsea Stewart was born in 1997 in San Mateo County, CA. She lives in San Mateo and works in Palo Alto, CA. Stewart is currently attending San José State University while working towards her MFA in Spatial Arts. Stewart completed a residency in the Cubberley Artist Studio Program in Palo Alto, CA, and currently works as the Gallery Manager at the Pamela Walsh Gallery in downtown Palo Alto.
She was a 2022 Content Emerging Artist Awardee and featured in Content Magazine’s issue 14.3, “Perform,” published by SVCreates, as well as in issue 12.4.
Erin de Jauregui is an MFA Candidate in Photography who focuses his work on time, place, and storytelling. His work takes the viewer on a journey to see the world through an unimaginable perspective. He will be showing photographs that challenge perceptions and tell innovative stories.
Mary Morse is an MFA candidate in Spatial Arts at San José State University, working in various mediums while exploring texture, color, and memory in her work. Her interdisciplinary approach enables her to create work that is unique, introspective, and innovative. She is showcasing work that combines soft materials and rigid forms in felt, incorporating painting and metalwork into her installations.
Samantha Saldana is a lens-based interdisciplinary artist whose scholarship explores community social justice issues, identity, family relationships, and intersectionality. Saldana is a graduate of the Visual and Public Art Department at California State University, Monterey Bay, and is currently an MFA candidate in the Photography Program at San Jose State University.
Saldana’s work engages accessibility to arts education, advocacy, and mentorship opportunities.
Timna Naim is an MFA candidate in Spatial Arts whose work is playful, tactical, and socially engaging. They work primarily in clay and utilize performance, social practice, and experimental glazing techniques to make the fantastical tangible. See their performance art, ceramics, sculpture, and installation at ICA San Jose.
Gilroy, California, often known as the “Garlic Capital of the World,” holds a rich cultural tapestry that extends far beyond its famous crop. Nestled in the heart of Santa Clara Valley, Gilroy is a town where agricultural roots blend with creativity.
The city’s growing community of artists, musicians, and creators is carving out space for art within its evolving culture. From public murals that reflect the town’s history to local art collectives chanting diverse voices, Gilroy’s art scene is blossoming and ready to share its unique voice.
One of Gilroy’s prominent artists and art advocates is Joey Castaneda, a fourth-generation native who discovered his passion for art at a young age. His love for tattoos, along with inspiration from his uncle José, drove Joey to bring his artwork to life by getting his first tattoo when he was just 14. By the time he was 15, Joey was deeply immersed in the world of tattooing. He quickly dove into the craft by exploring various styles and developing his skills.
Adopting the name Chokotattoos, Joey took his tattooing journey to the next level. Although he started with drawing as his first art medium, his true calling as a tattoo artist emerged during an apprenticeship with a friend. This pivotal experience allowed Joey to refine his craft, transitioning from casual experimentation to professional expertise. He quickly mastered various styles, including traditional, fine-line, and black-and-gray work, each of which requires a unique blend of precision and creativity.
Reflecting on his growth, Joey recognizes the importance of timing and mentorship in his development. His ability to adapt and learn from others has become a cornerstone of his success, fueling both his personal growth and his contributions to the artistic community. He shares, “Being in the right place at the right time and learning from the older generation, I feel like all the styles I learned early on were crucial to my career today.”
When Joey creates art, he explores a genre called Chicano surrealism, which draws inspiration from dreams and the unseen aspects of life. For Joey, the journey of art is never-ending. New mediums continually appear on the horizon, and he is eager to explore airbrushing and ceramics as his next craft. “I try everything if I can, especially if there is someone there who knows it well. If they want to teach me, I’ll sit and try it out and give it my best,” he says.
After serving in the army, Joey’s passion for tattooing remained strong. Yet his desire to amplify the voice of artists in his community grew even stronger. Together with his wife, Jade, he founded the Shades of Brown Alliance (SOBA), an alliance dedicated to providing resources, opportunities, and work for local artists. Serving as SOBA’s collective founder and executive director, Joey’s mission is rooted in the culture of the Gilroy community. Beyond SOBA’s mission, Joey is committed to nurturing the next generation of artists by helping them become self-sufficient and ensuring they receive the recognition they deserve. His goal is to empower artists to fully utilize the resources available to them and to embrace growth and appreciation for their talents.
A major challenge SOBA deals with is exploitation. That’s because the community in Gilroy often lacks knowledge on how to approach art commissions to ensure that work is fairly valued and compensated. Compared to San Jose, Joey believes that Gilroy lags 10 years behind in terms of its artist community.
To create opportunities for SOBA’s artists, the organization helps iron out pay discrepancies, streamline invoicing, and equips artists with necessary tools. Joey explains that “most of the time artists sell themselves short. Even though they know their work is worth $300, they will say they can do it for $50. If you keep this pattern going, you are not going to the next level.”
The organization also hosts bi-monthly meetings, which alternate between board meetings and artist networking sessions. Workshops that would provide opportunities for artists to learn figurative drawing, spray painting, and more are in the works for the coming year.
SOBA brings the community together through events that showcase a vibrant mix of culture and creativity, from vinyl DJs and lowrider enthusiasts to a diverse group of vendors and artists. These collective efforts are central to SOBA’s fundraising initiatives, which support both the artists and the community. SOBA embraces a wide range of artistic expressions, from traditional art forms to more unconventional ones, like baking and tattooing. Currently, Joey’s vision for SOBA is to secure larger and more impactful projects for the artists to expand their reach and influence while embracing a stronger, more connected community of artists. For example, SOBA is in the process of securing fiscal sponsorship through Local Color, which will provide the group with opportunities to grow.
In collaboration with Emily McEwan-Upright, founder of 6th Street Studios & Art Center and 1202 Contemporary gallery, Joey’s next major project for SOBA is a large mural that will serve as a centerpiece for the Youth Mentorship Program and will emphasize nurturing the next generation of artists. Known for its vibrant support of the arts community, 6th Street Studios & Art Center offers a range of resources, from rental spaces and art classes to creative programs. The center also leads youth mentorship initiatives and cultivates creativity across all ages and skill levels. Through their shared vision, Joey and Emily aim to foster a strong, inclusive artistic community that uplifts local and marginalized voices.
Joey’s deep-rooted connection to Gilroy drives his passion for supporting local artists. For him, providing these resources is a personal mission to uplift the community. While Joey envisions expanding SOBA beyond Gilroy, he remains committed to making his hometown the heart of the collective. Joey envisions the town as not only the birthplace of SOBA but also as a cultural hub whose unique character and artistic contributions are celebrated. Gilroy’s identity will anchor SOBA’s growth, allowing it to influence and inspire both local and regional art communities.
“In a sense, that’s my mission: to hold onto what’s transient, even as it fades, leaving traces behind.”
At an early age, Vĩ Sơn Trinh learned of his parents’ journey as refugees escaping Communist-ruled Vietnam. They spent seven days and nights at sea, eventually arriving in Galang, Indonesia, where his mom promptly gave birth to Vĩ Sơn. While his parents’ story illuminated his own journey to find his identity as a second-generation immigrant, Vĩ Sơn realized his experience was one among many and became inspired to use visual storytelling to give voice to other similar narratives of immigrant families.
Vĩ Sơn’s different projects, such as Silk Rise, Chinatown, and The Stories We Carry, aim to preserve everyday moments that explore cultural identity among second and third-generation immigrants. His photography immediately draws you into small, nuanced moments that carry a weightless glow of compassion and gratitude. The soft, faded, dream-like tone of his images feels like long-forgotten memories that unexpectedly visit you, almost like déjà vu. His images are comforting in their reassurance, giving order to the disorder that arises from intergenerational trauma.
As a visual journalist, photographer, and full-time cardiac nurse, Vĩ Sơn Trịnh uses his photography and filmmaking to uncover stories of resilience, the perseverance of familial bonds, and identity among refugees and immigrants.
Your images communicate a quiet, emotional depth, even out of context. Are there other elements in your life that influence your work? My influences are like waves—each one carrying fragments of memory, connecting the past to the present in ways that feel both vivid and elusive. Some inspirations are simple moments, like the hum of tires on the road when I drive alone. It reminds me of family road trips, my dad guiding us to visit relatives in Los Angeles, those long hours becoming my first experience of quiet spaces, where my thoughts could wander freely. There’s a kind of longing to capture those fleeting moments, to preserve the simplicity of what once was. This is why I’m drawn to photographers like Rinko Kawauchi; her work feels like visual haikus that honor small, often overlooked details. Her images remind me to pause, to see the truth in the subtleties, to find beauty in what others might overlook.
Do other art forms inspire you as well? Music also plays a crucial role in my creative process, adapting with my environment and mood. When I’m out on the streets, blending into the rhythm of city life, I listen to Shigeto. The intensity of his beats fuels my energy, pushing me to navigate crowds, cars, and alleyways with purpose. In contrast, when I’m seeking something introspective, I turn to the calming compositions of Olafur Arnalds or Ryuichi Sakamoto. Their music has a way of evoking nostalgia, allowing me to connect with fragments of memory that need space to breathe and take form.
Grief, too, influences my work. Creating has become a way to process loss and transform pain into something tangible. It’s an attempt to find beauty in absence, to honor what’s slipping away by capturing it.
In a sense, that’s my mission: to hold onto what’s transient, even as it fades, leaving traces behind.
There is a quiet tenderness to your photos with an emphasis on small moments, often up close. When you shoot, do you have a vision of what you want already in mind or are you simply paying attention to those moments as they unfold naturally? When I first began, there was no map, no destination—just the pull to capture everything under the sun, as if each moment could somehow fill an emptiness I hadn’t yet named. I was chasing a high, really, capturing whatever caught my eye, drawn to the sheer wonder of it. The camera became a net for everything fleeting, everything that seemed to slip away as soon as I looked at it. These days, when I work on a project, I carry that same innocence, that same sense of wonder, but there’s a steadiness to it now, a direction. I still find myself searching for that pure feeling, that unfiltered connection. I might start with a goal, an idea of where I’m headed, but once I’m in it, once the subject and I begin to share a kind of quiet understanding, that’s when things start to bloom on their own. The moments become softer, truer. It’s as if the image decides to reveal itself, layered and deep, only once we’ve learned to be still enough to listen.
I recently came across a wonderful explanation of how poetry, in particular, can be this improbable portal, or backdoor, into the cosmos by sneaking ideas into our subconscious, ultimately changing the way we perceive the external world. I realized how photography, likewise, can do the same thing…a visual poem, if you will. With that said, how did The Stories We Carry project change your perspective and the way you relate to the world? That’s such a beautiful way to put it, Taran—“poetry as a portal,” a doorway into other lives and experiences, ways of seeing we might never have considered. The Stories We Carry project felt like stepping into that portal, and through it, I was able to witness the inner worlds of first- and second-generation immigrant families, each one carrying their own histories and memories, held in everyday objects and stories. While I’m part of this community through my own family’s journey, the project gave me something rare: a deeper, more intimate sense of what it means to walk in someone else’s shoes, to feel their joys, their struggles, their resilience. Photography, for me, became a way to bridge that space, to capture glimpses of lives that are both familiar and vastly different. Each person I photographed gave me a doorway into their reality—a chance to see not just the visible details but the weight of their histories, the layers of their identities. The project reshaped my own understanding of belonging and displacement; it reminded me how nuanced these experiences are, even within a community I thought I knew well. It’s one thing to know that each immigrant story is unique, but it’s another to witness it, to be invited into those spaces, and to come away changed, with a broader compassion and a new way of seeing the lives around me.
Your journey to become a nurse, and the job itself, seems to play a big part in your identity and, likewise, your approach to your projects. Would you say there are any relative parallels to your visual journalist work and your day-to-day profession? Nursing and visual journalism share a surprising intimacy—both are grounded in careful observation, empathy, and the power of listening. My work as a nurse has shaped me into a more attentive photographer, just as my background in photojournalism has helped me to see my patients in greater depth. Nursing calls for a sensitivity to detail, a watchfulness that allows me to notice the smallest changes in a patient’s health or demeanor, knowing that these subtle shifts can mean everything. It’s a skill rooted in close observation, much like photography, where one frame can hold a world of unspoken truths.
In both fields, there’s an art to asking the right questions. As a nurse, I ask patients about their symptoms, their medications, their financial and emotional well-being, their homes and support systems—each answer adding another layer to their story, much like a journalist drawing out a narrative. It’s not just about gathering information; it’s about understanding how each piece of their life impacts their health, their journey. And when I’m photographing, that same curiosity shapes how I approach people. I’m attuned to the layers beneath their expressions, their gestures, the environment they inhabit.
Perhaps the deepest similarity is the sense of compassion each role demands. Nursing has taught me to look beyond the immediate—to see my patients not as cases, but as individuals with stories, histories, and vulnerabilities. That awareness has changed how I approach photography, too, infusing my images with a tenderness and empathy that only comes from bearing witness to both the fragility and resilience of others. In both nursing and photography, I’m reminded that what I capture or care for is not just a single moment or person, but a piece of a much larger, intricate story.
Do you have any projects on the horizon or ideas ruminating? Some days, the weight of picking up the camera feels heavier than I remember, like the lens has grown distant, more elusive. The everyday currents of work, the quiet exhaustion of life—it all leaves me feeling like creating is both a refuge and a labor. But I often find myself drifting into a daydream, imagining a project I haven’t yet begun: an archive of my father’s old Hi-8 footage and old photos from his visits to Vietnam in the ’90s, woven with scenes of our family’s early days here in the States. I want to tell our story, to trace our family’s path, the way memory lingers in old tapes, how it shapes us in ways we’re still learning to name.
Recently, I’ve felt a pull from others in my generation, other creatives using art to reach into their own histories, to confront the weight of intergenerational trauma and shape it into something tangible, something that heals. There’s a kind of solace in that, a shared language. I hope to make space for this work, to find my own way of piecing together fragments of that story, connecting with others who carry a similar thread of resilience and memory. Maybe, in time, these fragments will take form—a new project, a way to honor what’s been both lost and found.
Born and raised in east-side San Jose, Sam Rodriguez was attracted to art from a young age. His first real foray into the art world came with adolescent graffiti adventures, but even then, Rodriguez knew he wanted more. At age 25, holding down two jobs while finishing college and with a baby on the way, Rodriguez didn’t have the time or energy to further his art. Luckily, a few years later, artist and friend Aaron De La Cruz invited him to be part of a small art show, reigniting his purpose. Now, Rodriguez has garnered the world’s attention with his symbolism-heavy, typographically jumbled portraits and his unique way of capturing the human form. His work graces the surfaces of international brands such as Puma, Under Armour, and Google. Recently, Rodriguez has taken to putting his work on T-shirts, both to make his work more financially accessible and to honor the cultural forms that first inspired him to make art.
“A lot of my work explores identity in general. It depends on each piece; some pieces are about identity in relation to language or fashion or anything really. It’s not a specific meaning; it’s more like I’m mixing different ingredients to create a new portrait. Sometimes, my work is my interpretation of what’s popular in culture. As a parent, I’m consuming more pop culture than ever, so a lot of my work is my take on what’s happening in the world. But, simultaneously, I don’t really have conclusions in the work I make. It’s more like I’m documenting information around me. In a way, my art is note-taking.”
Let’s be honest: in a world saturated with digital noise, it would be easy to let seventy issues of a small local arts publication go unnoticed. Even on a dreary rain-soaked night, San Jose City Hall’s Rotunda was a lively hub of local talent and community engagement. Pick-Up Party 17.2, “Connect,” hosted a diverse roster of talent while celebrating Content’s seventieth issue and honoring the contributions of Vietnamese American creatives living and working in the South Bay.
Attendees were treated to performances that spanned the artistic spectrum. New Ballet SJ provided a graceful display of classical and contemporary dance, while LOLAH, with her rock and roll sound, injected an energy into the room that most wouldn’t expect from a single musician. Dad Bod Rap Pod opened the evening with a cultural exchange presentation that outlined their journey to Saigon before they transitioned straight into DJ sets, proving that even a city hall has some rhythm.
Displays Vĩ Sơn Trịnh added a layer to the celebration, showcasing the breadth of talent featured in the magazine. Food and drink were, as expected, present, with the first 150 Content members snagging the complimentary perks—a classic move to incentivize loyalty.
The magazine itself highlighted the contributions of Vietnamese American artists and creatives, offering a glimpse into the diverse creative landscape of the South Bay. Creatives from Binh Danh, Vanessa Vân-Ánh Võ, and Viet Thanh Nguyen to Vampy, Vinh G. Nyguyen, and Hết Sẩy Food Truck illustrated a wide range and various forms of self-expression.
Even if the outside weather was trying its best to dampen the mood, our community came together to party and celebrate indoors. It’s a testament that despite living in a world saturated with digital noise, nothing compares to the physical–Meeting in person, live music, and print. It was great to celebrate this herculean 70th issue, and we are looking forward to celebrating each future issue from our 71st to the 80th and beyond.
Join us on Friday, May 16, 2025, at West Valley College in Saratoga for Pick-Up Party 17.3. There will be performances and displays from creatives featured in previous magazines and from our upcoming Issue 17.3, “Perform.” This party will continue our annual collaboration with The Cilker School of Art & Design EXPO–an exhibition featuring current and graduating student work across the Architecture, Design, Visual, and Performing Art programs. Save the Date.
The Coterie Den is a multimedia space in Japantown, San Jose that differs from other studio spaces and venues in the area. It’s a multimedia space that resembles Eric Foreman’s basement from That 70’s Show, a place that’s made for artists to feel comfortable in. “Friendly, welcoming, creative” is how Coterie Den audio engineer Isandro describes it. Down a narrow set of stairs—walls covered in classic album covers—is a multimedia space that includes a recording studio, a sound stage for live performances, a photography studio, and six hungry and talented artists who help keep the creative engine running.
The Coterie Den consists of rapper and owner Lucas Millan (aka “L James”), lead audio engineer Isandro Biaco, photographer and videographer Danny Cardona, web and graphic designer Wyatt Perkins, intern audio engineer Angel Cabebe (aka “Mac”), and graphic designer Bryan Reed—six different personalities from various backgrounds with one common goal: to grow themselves and the artists they work with. “Trying to get out of the harsh reality and make our lives better,” Mac says when asked what influences him and the rest of the Den to work hard and make The Coterie Den a hub for San Jose. Each member of the team is unique: Isandro moved to San Jose from the Philippines. Wyatt is a 19-year-old former skater who showed up to Coterie Den and ended up developing their website and now runs the business side. “I see [The Coterie Den] the same as skating: take that risky jump down some stairs, take that risky jump in life. It’s all the same,” Wyatt says. Dan, a gym rat who does CrossFit competitions and creates gym content, joined the team as a photography intern. A year later, he’s done photography for various artists and even some 49ers players. Brian, a former tagger, is now able to produce artwork that provides a legal income through graphic design. Lastly is Mac, the latest member to join the team as an audio engineer. Bringing people out of their element and networking in a very direct way is a big part of Coterie Den. L James describes it as a “gym feeling,” where artists visit to get their reps in. “If you’re hungry, here’s a real opportunity,” L James says.
“I see The Coterie Den the same as skating: take that risky jump down some stairs, take that risky jump in life. It’s all the same.” – Wyatt Perkins
The space is bookings-based, unless the team has their own projects to work on. Every month, the Den hosts three open mic nights to keep that feeling of repetition going for participating artists. During these nights, an artist can sharpen their tongue in front of other creatives, which can result in a song being made and later recorded at The Coterie Den. Another monthly event hosted by the Den is a thrift and vintage market. These events are intended to bring people to the space and show artists that the Den can be a creative home where similar people are looking for a creative community. In the past, groups in the valley chose to be gatekeepers instead of building with other creatives in the city. The Coterie Den wants to bring a more unselfish vibe to the creative scene in Silicon Valley. “Extending the web” is how the group describes their space. Their location next to Jubo Clothing’s Coldwater store and partnerships with EMLN, SJ Foo’s, Tankshop, among others, is an example of the web they are expanding. Even with their quick rise, they see their growth as a step-by-step process.
Even though the Den has every means for an artist to make a project, promote it, and grow their creative business, the crew at Coterie Den is honest enough to say that it’s too early to become a record label or to start managing artists. The Den, as of right now, is about growing what they have and ensuring good time management. “The house isn’t built, but we see the foundation and structure from the bricks we put in place.” L James says. “Expansion is on our minds, and it starts with us too, mastering ourselves so that we’ll be able to expand, mastering our own systems, mastering the open mics, mastering our thrift markets, mastering our recording services, mastering our photography services—expanding using our systems that we already have put in place.”
In 1977, the New York club CBGB was famous for being the home of punk rock. Bands like Blondie, the Ramones, and Sex Pistols didn’t just perform there during the early years, they also bonded and became a family. CBGB is also where Andy Warhol met the Velvet Underground and formed their relationship. For San Jose, The Coterie Den has that same energy, a place where artists can come together and, as L James says, “get their reps in.” The Den is a creative gym where artists can grow and build on top of what already makes them unique. The web they’re expanding doesn’t just stop in San Jose. They look to hopefully have a Den in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York. But until then, the team wants to create the place where people from both inside and outside of San Jose come to sharpen their skills and connect with other artists like them. The Coterie Den is a creative gym growing a new generation of artists.
In fourth grade, Rosanna Alvarez once laughed from under her desk as an earthquake shook her classroom and the rest of Eastside San Jose. Her classmates thought she was demented. She didn’t know how to explain that she was nervous and had not actually enjoyed the temblor.
These days, Rosanna expresses herself through all the languages a multifaceted interdisciplinary artist works with. As a painter, dancer, jeweler, and poet, among other things, she has plenty of outlets. But a good giggle opens her pressure valve. “I laugh all the time,” she says, punctuating it with a small but generous chuckle.
Levity helps balance the consulting work Rosanna provides, which often includes navigating sensitive matters for governmental agencies like Santa Clara County Social Services and Executive Offices. She provides support to the people who do the groundwork so that communities can thrive.
In her own life, Rosanna’s mother greatly supported her dreams. It was her mother who helped Rosanna sew the artist’s first set of regalia. “She didn’t know what the hell I was asking her to do, but she was like, ‘Okay. Sure. We’re gonna do this,’ ” Rosanna explains.
Inside iJava cafe, underneath Highway 87 on the edge of Downtown San Jose, Rosanna looks at her phone, obsessing over an Aztec regalia she wants to buy online. She dances with and is a founding member of the Aztec dance group Calpulli Tonalehqueh.
Rosanna credits her mother’s creativity for drawing her to community and adds that her mother would never claim to be artistic. “But then you look at the way she ran her household,” Rosanna adds. From Halloween costumes for Rosanna and her siblings, to countless party favors for baptisms and quinceañeras, her mother was there.
“My mom taught us the art of the glue gun—[she had] so many glue sticks! That is her love language—helping other people,” Rosanna says. “Folks appreciated the love she put into everything she made,” she adds.
To meet Rosanna is to be met with her big hoop earrings and an ensemble of dark and vivid colors that almost run counter to her stoic nature. She describes herself as a bit of a peacock but exhibits a locked-on-target focus—one that remains engaged as she tells a story while a dozen police cars scream past the cafe. Rosanna finishes her thought, then calmly peers out the window, succumbing to curiosity.
Originally, Rosanna wanted to become a lawyer. After studying political science at Santa Clara University and in grad school, her focus shifted to community and art as she worked in youth development, hopped around non-profit organizations, lectured on Chicano and Chicana studies at San Jos é State University, and co-founded Eastside Magazine
While pregnant with her second daughter, Rosanna’s family lost their house in San Jose during the 2008 market collapse, forcing them to move to Gilroy. Her daughter was born with congenital birth defects, so Rosanna and her husband began advocating for the best medical care they could get. Their daughter is now a teenager and is doing well.
Rosanna’s firstborn recently told Rosanna that she decided not to join MEChA, a high school club that focuses on empowering Latinx students, because other club members made her feel not as Mexican. “I thought I fought that battle!” Rosanna says, and adds, “How can we be less ugly with each other?” She offers her daughters guidance through their own art and teaches them about their deep cultural connections.
Whether she is speaking in front of students, government workers, or employees at Apple, Rosanna brings her authenticity. “I think I show up in a way that encourages people to remember that it’s okay to put aside what might feel like a costume for some of us and to just connect.”
Online she sells T-shirts, one of which reads, “Hocicona eres mas chingona.” This translates to “You’re more badass for being outspoken,” Rosanna explains. Growing up, hocicona meant “Don’t be so outspoken. Don’t have that audacity.” She shares that in reality, “It’s the container for the audacity of certain behaviors women in particular aren’t supposed to have, [like] being outspoken.” She counters that idea by stating, “I am raising hociconas.” Her daughters wear the shirt.
Rosanna adds a final meditation on the word. “It’s a reminder that if I wanted to show up in bold red lipstick and my big hoops and speak in my eastside twang, that I’m still the same person with the same insights as if I chose to show up in a blazer and the neutral lipstick and the styled hair.” When asked what her love language is, Rosanna responds with “gangster rap,” an example of her sense of humor, which she uses to balance the heavier parts of the world.
As an advocate for authenticity, Rosanna seems to be less of a peacock and more like a raven in a purple sweater, armed with a glue gun and voice that will be heard.
Exhilo is short for Creatio Ex Nihilo: Creation From Nothing
As a young boy, Curtis Ying always reached for the pen tucked away in his mother’s purse. Anything his five-year-old imagination would dream up, he could magically translate into mini masterpieces on restaurant napkins with his mother’s pen. Filled with awe and wonder, Curtis doodled anywhere, so long as his mother remembered to carry her pen.
But his fascination with creation didn’t stop there. Curtis’s mother read Biblical nursery poetry every night, which captured his heart. From very early on, Curtis found inspiration and faith through stories of God’s mysterious and miraculous creation of the universe. From mountains to music, from skyscrapers to sea creatures, Curtis became enamored with how the universe came to be.
Curtis’s parents immigrated from Hong Kong when they were teenagers, and he was born and raised in the Bay Area. Growing up surrounded by California’s beautiful landscapes and Silicon Valley’s renowned tech industry, Curtis became fascinated by how each was uniquely creative and continues to find inspiration in both. This led him to pursue a degree from San Jose State University (SJSU) in graphic design and photography. Throughout his time at SJSU, he decided to use his gifts and knowledge to not only grow in his craft, but to help others grow as well.
As Curtis expanded his skill set, his imagination and fascination with creation expanded along with him. “There’s a magic and wonder with everything we create,” says now 28-year-old Curtis, creator of the Exhilo clothing brand. Exhilo (pronounced ex-he-low) is a faith-based brand made for creatives, by creatives. Each piece of clothing is “unique and limited edition,” and the brand has “grown to collaborate with artists all around the world.” Curtis explains why he chose a clothing brand. “The symbolism of clothing—it speaks to one’s identity. The images you wear can speak to your values.” Curtis’s values are built on his faith in Jesus, and he desires to represent the Creator through creative expression. “There’s so much beauty in creativity, and self-expression is such a gift.” He is passionate about creativity and blank canvases. His fascination with the creative process from imagination to the final product is what keeps Curtis creating. It’s what inspired him to name his company Exhilo. Exhilo is a condensed word for the Latin phrase creatio ex nihilo, which means “creation from nothing.”
“It’s about Community over competition.” – Curtis Ying
Beyond creating clothing apparel, Curtis builds up creatives within his community through Exhilo Creative Meetups (ECM). “The initial desire for the creative meetups was for people to study together…but we changed the direction to be a place to inspire, grow, and encourage each other,” Curtis says. He shared how ECM has helped both him and others grow in confidence and help guide one another through their creative journey. Curtis is thankful that ECM provides networking opportunities, which has led to referrals for jobs and collaborative projects. Though the culture of Silicon Valley is exceptionally competitive, Curtis refuses to let that seep into his own. “It’s about community over competition,” he says. It is important to the passionate leaders of ECM that their community is built on creativity, love, and inclusivity.
Outside of ECM, Curtis and his team organize other hangouts such as rock climbing, bowling, or watching anime films. Curtis says, “I love the feedback because people say they feel loved and accepted…and that they can be their natural selves.” Curtis explains that this is how both he and his team can show love for their community while working out their faith. Exhilo may be a brand, but it has expanded beyond T-shirts, hats, and duffle bags—it has become a family. Regardless of faith, experience, or background, Exhilo welcomes anyone and encourages everyone, uniting one another in creativity and purpose.
Over the last several years, Curtis has used both Exhilo’s successes and failures to help other creators within the community. A colossal component to social media culture is burying failures and exalting successes. Curtis, on the other hand, shares both on Instagram. “I had to throw away over 300 license plate frames that I ordered from China…I had spent about a year dreaming and designing, and it all ended up in the trash.” He adds that although it is extremely uncomfortable admitting defeat, sometimes that is where some of the most valuable lessons are learned.
You will find creativity, community, and cohesivity in all of Curtis’s creations. He is constantly searching for ways to grow beyond apparel and relate new forms of creativity to Exhilo. Some of those forms include photography, dance, and music. Although it is challenging to find ways to relate these outlets back to Exhilo, Curtis invites the challenge and relies heavily on his community for feedback and support.
Curtis’s curiosity and creativity cannot be contained. Though now an adult, he is still as full of awe and wonder as he was as a child. He may not doodle on restaurant napkins with his mother’s pen anymore, but he will always be inspired by his faith and the wonder of creation by the Ultimate Creator.
We have to be able to do something musically that speaks to people that don’t speak the same language. –Jason Eckl
Every year, the San Jose Jazz Summer Fest pushes musical boundaries by booking diverse acts that break the mold of what listeners know as jazz music. The 2016 lineup is no exception. Soul, blues, and hip-hop artists add variety to a lengthy list of heavyweight jazz performers and rising stars. In spite of the seemingly vast genre gap between some of the artists, the San Francisco Bay Area’s own Dirty Cello is proof that all performers at the Summer Fest share a common respect for the jazz tradition.
Founding members Rebecca Roudman, cello, and Jason Eckl, guitar, have both established themselves as accomplished classical musicians in the Bay Area, playing and writing for the Santa Rosa and Oakland symphonies. As proficient as they are with classical music, the couple’s true passion lies in American folk and blues traditions. In 2011, they decided to channel their creative unrest into an experimental collaboration.
“We played around with all sorts of ideas,” Eckl recalls, “but now we’ve happened upon this whole mix of blues, jazz, a little bit of bluegrass—all featuring lead cello. Hence the name Dirty Cello.”
In addition to cello and guitar, Dirty Cello features Colin Williams on bass and Anthony Petrocchi on drums. The band, however, isn’t always limited to the quartet. Following the jazz and blues tradition, the couple believes in handpicking local players to supplement the quartet’s live shows. Whether these musical mercenaries consist of a few horn players or an entire orchestra, the couple makes sure they find people who “aren’t only great players, but nice people.”
Five years after Dirty Cello’s inception, the band has traveled as far as Europe and China. After experiencing a language barrier between the audience and the stage in other countries, Eckl learned, “We have to be able to do something musically that speaks to people that don’t speak the same language.” The band members’ expressive body language and the universality of the blues help them connect with both international and American audiences.
As Bay Area natives, the band has already graced multiple San Jose music hubs, including Café Stritch and the SoFA Festival. “We feel like we owe a lot to the Bay Area,” Eckl reflects. “There are still new horizons and new things to do.”
One way Dirty Cello gives back to their audience is their sensitive approach to their set list. At the drop of a dime, they can change their set based on audience response. “It’s not about us; it’s about sharing [the experience] with the audience,” says Roudman, who recognizes the need to adapt on the fly. This concept of a “flexible set list” will be put to the test during their August 14 performance at the Jade Leaf Lounge.
Their set promises to embrace the familiar sounds of blues and folk with an unfamiliar instrumentation. Listeners will leave saying, “I didn’t know a cello could do that!”
Black and Brown is a vintage buy/sell clothing shop in San Jose that specializes in bringing together old styles and new visions. On March 8, it will be celebrating the nine-year anniversary of its opening with a shindig at Café Stritch. The event will be open to the public of all ages and feature sets by several DJs.
“It’s just a party, just to hang out and celebrate that we’ve made it this far,” says Monisha Murray, owner of Black and Brown.
Murray is one of the founders of Black and Brown. She started the clothing shop in 2005 with her good friend, Irene Kim. The shop opened nine years ago in a small, 1,000-square-foot venue on San Carlos, across the street from Mel Cotton’s. It was more of a hidden destination known through word of mouth. “It was one of those places that was easy to pass by if you weren’t looking for it,” says Murray.
After five years of hiding in its place on San Carlos, Murray found a new spot that was more on the forefront of foot traffic. Black and Brown is now on The Alameda and Sunol, where the baby store has stretched its legs and become one of the big dogs on the block.
The new shop is long and open. It has dark, oak wood shelves to hold shoes and boots above the racks. Diffused lights illuminate the parts of the store where the sun doesn’t reach. The clothes are separated by color and style. The army jackets are clumped together with the army green clothing. The leather jackets are all put under the same rack. The tan blouses intertwined with other blouses like uniforms on a playground. Random artifacts are scattered here and there, ranging from a vintage high school t-shirt to a denim jacket your dad had thought was cool 30 years ago.
The journey has been as educational for Murray as it has been hard. “I’ve learned a lot,” she says. “I’ve lost a lot.”
Murray and Kim split up when Kim left the business and went back to school. Murray’s business venture has made her a better, stronger person. The pressure of trying to keep a lease while trying to make others happy has made Murray more business-savvy and borderline cutthroat.
That’s what Black and Brown is all about. They are the aftermath of contemporary fashion’s collision with vintage style. The approach to their vibe and aesthetic is to put those two worlds under one roof. But it isn’t just about getting old stuff and reselling it. Murray trains her team on how to shop for original and desirable items and how to be gatekeepers of the Black and Brown racks. They don’t buy double-knit poly just because it’s 70s; they look for original, one-of-a-kind things that customers can be excited about finding. Murray strives to be more than just a store that sells 70s items because if she did that, she says, she’d only have business during Halloween.
There was a point three years into the business when Murray seriously thought about closing Black and Brown. But the passion to perpetuate her style and love of fashion kept her in the game. “For anybody doing a venture, make sure you love it. And make sure you have a passion for it,” she says.
Nine years later, Murray still has her head above water and proudly celebrates the anniversary of her store and her vision. “It’s crazy to think it’s been that long,” she says. “We’ve done so much with so little since that first stepping stone.”
BLACK and BROWN 751 W. San Carlos St San Jose, CA 95126 (408) 298-1970
Read about Black and Brown’s origin story in our Beta issue “Traffic” .5 from 2009
Jon Dryden is a pianist, composer, professor of Jazz Studies at SJSU, and one of the 2025 Jazz Aid Fund grantees, performing at the San Jose Jazz New Works Fest on March 7 in the SJZ Break Room. We had the chance to pick his artistic brain on topics from what inspires him, how he balances the demands of teaching with composing while still earning enough to live, and his hopes and dreams for the Bay Area jazz scene.
Producer Jesse Harris describes Dryden’s playing as “somewhere between Vince Guaraldi and Paul Bley.” Others have called it “melancholy with a touch of hope,” says Jon Dryden. We think it’s dreamy, emotional, and layered–like crying while sitting under a grand piano when you’re a kid but still feeling comforted by it.
Dryden says for the Break Room show, “I’m bringing in a few amazing musicians whom I love to work with from New York and Los Angeles. The performance will open with a new piece called “Circada” and will include the SJZ grant-commissioned piece, “That Would Be Telling,”
The ensemble features Dryden on piano, Ben Flocks on tenor saxophone, Scott Colberg on bass, and Benjamin Ring on drums.
Dryden says the title, ”That Would Be Telling,” is “from a key phrase in the British Classic Spy-Fi seriesThe Prisoner, a show I watched with my students. It’s one of the most amazing and influential TV shows ever made. The music in the show is excellent too.”
When describing his inspiration and process, he shares, “I love metaphors, especially when they are used in subtle ways that cross artistic and psychological disciplines. Concepts like these give me an unwritten emotional framework I can draw from musically.”
The television show presents an argument between the individual and the collective. “It asks, how much of each mode of thinking–collectivity and individuality– should exist in a society? Does a collective society lead to homogenization and surveillance states?”
Whether collective societies lead to homogenization remains to be seen. However, Dryden acknowledges that it’s nearly impossible to have a thriving jazz scene without one strong type of collective: community.
”I love what the SJZ Break Room isdoing, which is establishing a place to play, listen and mingle, he says.”
However, he admits that it can be tough to maintain the sense of community he experienced in New York, where most venues are located in a smaller geographic area.
“The Bay Area Jazz scene has many amazing musicians, but is so spread out that there’s no center where people can congregate.”
Community means so much, says Dryden, because “we need each other, and we need to be around people who are better musicians than us. What I would like to see much more of is more friendly competition–people kindly challenging one another to grow musically and to share ideas.” Without friendly competition, he says, creativity can falter.
A robust community not only provides a center of gravity where jazz-lovers and performers can congregate, commune, and compete, but it creates a place to network and radically imagine new possibilities. New possibilities inspire not only new works of art but also new music students, new venues, and new job opportunities–something sorely needed to sustain Bay Area musicians.
“The hyphenated life is a common career for most musicians,” says Dryden, referring to the multiple streams of income that he depends on in order to afford the cost of living in Aptos, to which he returned in 2010 to care for his dad after living and working for 19 years in New York City.
The way Dryden describes the New York City Jazz scene conjures up complex feelings, much like his compositions do. His words bring up feelings and images, like the melancholy yet intensely alive takes he gives to popular songs he covers, like Nirvana’s All Apologies. He mentions venues, all close to one another, in a relatively condensed space. Images of happy, dreamy couples and groups of people weaving their way into and out of vibrant jazz clubs all close together–“that’s hard to beat, even when you have small hubs like those in San Francisco and the East Bay,” Dryden explains.
Prior to returning to his native California, Dryden was “solely making a living as a performing musician/composer/arranger/producer. Since I moved back home to Aptos, I’ve added instructor and lecturer to those skills.”
Some working musicians, says Dryden, have their hands in a lot of pots because “many of us love a lot of different kinds of music.” No exception, he cites musical influences as diverse as Shostakovich, Scriabin, and Smith–Elliot Smith, that is. He also loves Prince. Dryden himself has collaborated with an impressive group of musicians–Michael Urbaniak, Patrice Rushen, and the Brecker Brothers, to name a few. He has recorded with several stratospheric megastars–Questlove, Norah Jones, David Byrne, Dave Chappelle, and John Mayer. And if those accomplishments weren’t remarkable enough, he has also composed for both Michael Moore and David Byrne–both heroes’ heroes.
He finds inspiration both in the incredible musicians he loves playing with and in his students. “They know a lot of things I don’t, and they have new music they’re listening to that I’m not aware of. I like to hear what they are into musically. Some of my students write pieces that aren’t anything like what I would come up with. I love to see that. Semi-consciously, I pick up their concepts and sometimes I work bits–no stealing, mind you. Just bits–into my compositions.“
While he wishes he could devote more time to composing, “teaching earns me more than half my income and consumes less time.” And still, he admits that he could not afford living in Santa Cruz County without his family house, where he lives. So, the multi-hyphenate grindlife continues, and while he doesn’t know the answer to the economic woes that drives musicians out of urban areas they can no longer afford, he does hope that “scenes will start to percolate in unexpected places.”
Dryden started piano lessons at five and began composing not long after. ”The compositions weren’t very good then, of course; but I have always associated performing and composing as one thing,” he says.
While he has strong ideas about composition and excellence, his view on interpreting music is more open-ended: “I like music to be whatever the listener wants it to be. One role a composer/songwriter can take on is making the personal universal.”
Check out the Jon Dryden Quartet at SJZ Break Room for New Works Fest, Friday, March 7 at 8p (Doors open at 7:30p). Tickets. Livestream.
“I discovered that my art form was not creating art but bringing people to art and telling those stories [and] being a conduit for artistic expressions and the community that needs to engage with them.”
A wood-cut sign hangs from the eaves of a Spanish-style balcony on Palo Alto’s Ramona Street architectural district. The sign reads “Pamela Walsh Gallery” in gold lettering. Inside, contemporary works of art hang neatly on the white walls of the historic building designed by Stanford architect Birge Clark in 1929. The gallery is named after owner, curator, and gallerist Pamela Walsh. More than simply managing a gallery, Walsh carefully orchestrates exhibitions, weaving together visual narratives that connect artists to space and viewers to artwork.
Curating exhibitions requires close collaboration with artists, pushing them to dig deeper into their craft, shaping themes, or relying on creative instinct to curate engaging experiences. Walsh explains, “That’s the part that I think is sometimes misunderstood. Real gallerists are artists. I attended art school and studied fine art in art history. I discovered that my art form was not creating art but bringing people to art and telling those stories [and] being a conduit for artistic expressions and the community that needs to engage with them.”
Walsh’s journey to owning her gallery has been a puzzle of self-discovery, business, and inspiration. Originally from Tennessee, she developed an interest in painting during high school, eventually pursuing a degree in art at university. After college, Walsh moved to California, hoping to break into the art gallery business. She was determined to get her foot in the door as a woman in a male-dominated industry. When she did—essentially paying to work on a draw against commission—she took a gallery job at Franklin Bowles Gallery in San Francisco. She worked her way up the ranks, creating a career over two decades. “I’m deeply grateful for that because [Franklin Bowles] really believed in me and taught me so much about the business…and when I was ready to go, he had three galleries in San Francisco and one in New York. It was a big company with many employees. I ran three locations and had 25 salespeople working under me. [That experience] has informed me about what my path [would] be as a gallerist,” she says.
Before opening Pamela Walsh Gallery in 2019, Walsh explored running her own art advisory business to free herself from the overhead of operating a brick-and-mortar location. Before long, she realized the importance of space. “Having worked in another gallery space for many years…I was coming out of that experience, wondering at the time [in] 2017, ‘Do you really need space? Is space important?’ ” She continues, “What I found is that space is precious. What space allows you is not only what artists really, deeply desire, which is a place to exhibit art and put together meaningful exhibitions that tell stories that you can’t tell otherwise, but it also allows you to build relationships with your community.”
Opening in November 2019, Pamela Walsh Gallery aimed to forge a new path, transforming the Palo Alto art scene by creating a destination for art buyers and enthusiasts on the peninsula in a region outside of San Francisco’s bustling art community. Sensing the absence of many thriving art galleries in the area, Walsh envisioned fostering an ecosystem of contemporary art in the heart of Palo Alto. Originally planning to open the gallery with partner and renowned gallerist Michael Schwartz, Walsh came as close as signing term sheets before Schwartz became ill, forcing him to pull out of the arrangement. Walsh recalls, “It was a tough moment. We had come so far, and I had spent so much energy and money figuring out how this business would work. And I had to think it through. Could I do it alone? And I just decided to go for it.”
Pamela rounds out that conversation by honoring Michael, who passed away in 2020. “He was a lovely, wonderful man. He was really somebody who believed in me in a way that was so powerful that it compelled me to do something that I was supposed to do. And I hope to return those gifts to someone in the future. Sometimes, you meet just a couple of people along your path who are the people who change your course.”
Even though the gallery opened just months before COVID-19 shutdowns, the pandemic underscored the importance of physical spaces for art. Walsh recognized that without space, she had nothing to offer potential art buyers, and coming out of the pandemic, she witnessed firsthand how people longed for in person art experiences. Galleries, museums, and art were pivotal in providing solace and inspiration during trying times. Walsh’s commitment to fostering art and community was reaffirmed.
In the ever-evolving landscape of contemporary art, Walsh remains a steadfast advocate for artists, their work, and women in the art business. As a mid-sized gallery, she is a crucial element of the arts ecosystem that provides a platform for emerging talents, curates impactful exhibitions, and serves as a link between art and community.
The nonstop party that can accompany DJ life almost robbed Brotha Reese of everything. Twenty years in, with a new outlook, he’s as dedicated as ever to sharing joy through song selection.
The sounds of A Tribe Called Quest’s “Find A Way” escape from under a partially open garage door. The song is playing as part of Brotha Reese’s five o’clock Traffic Mix on Q102 FM. A garage door lifts to reveal a DJ wonderland: walls of 12-inch vinyl records, sorted by style and era, with 45 packed travel crates situated atop the shelving; two DJ set ups—one contemporary and one throwback, the latter featuring an old-school Rane mixer placed inside a wooden console with two turntables resting on top; and PCs and webcams to power Twitch livestreams. Murals by graffiti legend King157 adorn the two long walls. It’s Reese’s self-stylized oasis.
“I look at these [walls], I get that smile, and I put on a record. It takes me back to when I was a kid,” notes Reese. “Music is so powerful. It can take you to another place. I can even remember smells when I hear certain records.” The space is an accurate reflection of Reese—Mauricio Cuellar Jr.—endlessly passionate about music and mindful of the legacy of his craft, yet always open to absorbing the new sounds needed to rock the next crowd he encounters. He speaks with an overflowing reverence for the songs he loves, singing choruses and beatboxing drum patterns while he talks. Over 40 years, he’s played weddings, bar mitzvahs, quinceañeras, and debuts, rocked packed club dance floors, soundtracked intimate dinners, and mixed over the drive-time airwaves.
“It became so bad with the DJing that I would take the turntables with me everywhere I went. If I went to your house and you didn’t have decks, I would [set up in] a little corner and make tapes for everybody.”
Reese’s parents arrived in America from El Salvador, and first moved to California’s San Fernando Valley, where he was born, before eventually settling in San Jose. He credits his father, a multi-instrumentalist who played in bands since his teenage years, as a major influence on his own passion for music. “When you grow up in South San Jose, you grow up with everybody,” he explains, noting that the diversity of his community informed his musical taste. “You would hear guys cruising in lowriders, bumping Zapp & Roger. I could hear my next door neighbors playing gospel on Sundays. And then I had my cool white-boy friends that listened to punk music, so I got exposed to Black Flag, Metallica, and Pantera.” He earned the name “Brotha Reese” because of the hip-hop flavor he brought to his sets at Latin clubs.
At 13, he fell in love with DJing after touching a set of turntables owned by his cousin in Queens. After assembling his own setup from gear donated to him by friends, he practiced obsessively. “It became so bad with the DJing that I would take the turntables with me everywhere I went,” he adds. “If I went to your house and you didn’t have decks, I would [set up in] a little corner and make tapes for everybody.”
The ’80s mix show DJs Michael Erickson and Cameron Paul were major inspirations. Legendary Bay Area DJ Jazzy Jim served as a mentor. In the early 1990s, he joined the Hot 97.7 FM street team, DJing lunchtime gigs and dances at high schools. When the famous Dog House morning show shifted to Wild 107.7, he became the show’s DJ. His first club gig, in 1992, was at Cactus Club. In later years, he ran a modern rock night with his friend DJ Deluxe at Zoe. But as his opportunities piled up, his constant role as the life of the party took its toll, leading Reese to abuse alcohol, marijuana, and crystal meth. “Because I was DJing six nights out of the week, it was a party every day. I’d go on benders,” he shares of this dark time. After having a tough conversation with his wife, he decided to seek help at an outpatient program offered by Kaiser. Now 20 years clean and sober, he’s grateful for how much he’s grown and the chance to return to a calling he once had to step away from.
“I don’t have to run to go use to hide those feelings [anymore],” he says. “If I can change, you can change.”
Currently, Reese holds residencies at Willard Hicks, Sushi Confidential, and Branham Lounge, and regularly streams The Soul Parlour Radio Show bi-weekly on Twitch alongside DJ Tay. Thanks to a longstanding friendship with radio legend Chuy Gomez, he’s been DJing for the San Jose Earthquakes and is back to regularly mixing on the radio.
At 53, he has no interest in stepping away from the decks. While his lifestyle around the party may look much different than it once did, he’s still locked into the pursuit of spreading joy across any dance floor he presides over. “DJing saved my life,” he shares. “If God will bless me with many more years, and I can still hear and see, I’m still gonna play records, even if it’s just for me and my grandkids.”
CURA Contemporary in Morgan Hill opened in the fall of 2024 as an art gallery and community space that hosts exhibitions, workshops, and art classes. The building, a work of art itself, was the brainchild of owners and longtime South County residents Dan and Kathy McCranie, who also own Colibri Art and Framing just across the street. The McCranies worked closely with Ellie Honl-Herman, the current Gallery Director, to develop CURA Contemporary’s design and offerings.
Growing up in the Midwest and coming from a long line of educators, CURA Contemporary’s Gallery Director Ellie Honl-Herman studied studio art and printmaking at St. Olaf College in Minnesota before earning an MFA in printmaking intermedia at the University of Iowa. As a student, Ellie worked at The University of Iowa Stanley Museum of Art and was a graduate teaching assistant before becoming a professor at multiple institutions, including Arizona State University, Indiana University, the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Points, and the University of Wisconsin Eau Claire. Ellie’s first time visiting California came when she was accepted for an artist residency at Kala Art Institute in Berkeley.
Ellie’s personal art practice includes printmaking, photography, and photogravure. Before pursuing art at university, she was interested in psychology and architecture, themes she would later explore in her artwork. Her works often feature precise geometric forms juxtaposed against unpredictable cyanotype backgrounds. The contrast of order and chaos in these prints explores human psychology, coping mechanisms, and situational emotional responses.
After her husband’s career brought Ellie back to California, they stayed in San Jose before settling down in Morgan Hill. At the time, Ellie was doing freelance photography and was seeking a more steady nine-to-five job. She found a job as a part-time framer at Colibri Art and Framing. Ellie’s background in art, combined with the fortuitous job posting, allowed her to get her foot in the door at the frame shop. This opened up the opportunity to start Colibri Gallery and eventually develop her role as a thought partner and gallery director of CURA Contemporary.
Since its opening, CURA Contemporary has hosted art exhibitions, workshops, and youth classes. The gallery’s goals are to be a welcoming and inclusive space for the community, provide educational opportunities that build an appreciation for the arts, be a hub for the local and regional arts community, and be a multifaceted arts destination with its unique combination of an art gallery, wine bar, restaurant, and event space.
In this conversation, we discuss Ellie’s art practice, her journey to becoming gallery director of CURA Contemporary, and her spirit of experimentation.
What led you to pursue a career in theater? I totally fell into theater by accident. I wanted to go to school to be a surgeon, but during my senior year of high school, I was bribed to choreograph for a musical. I was already a part of the marching band, a dance team, and color guard. The drama teacher approached me and said, “You’re a really strong dancer, you come highly recommended and we just lost a choreographer. Would you be interested in choreographing for a musical?” And I said, “I’m sorry. Theater’s not really my thing. I’m not interested.” And he said, “Well, I’ll pay you.”
And I go, “Okay. I’ll do it.” I had watched performances and opera singers, but I had never thought I’d be into theater for some reason. I had never sung a note in my life! Even though I come from a very musical family, I never thought it would be the road I would follow. But sure enough, it has turned into a dream that I have pursued into reality.
“You work so hard, so hard, so hard at memorizing, learning, making sure the notes and dialogue are correct. Then once you get up on stage, you have to let it go and trust that you know it—that you have it in your body.”
What is the most rewarding aspect of being a performer? The most rewarding aspect of this industry is how it touches people’s lives and brings them joy. They get the chance to escape their world and their reality, even if it’s just for a few hours. When they smile or hug me or shake my hand afterwards, it makes me feel like I’m able to do something good for someone. Even if it’s not open heart surgery, I’m touching a life in a way that not everyone gets to do. I also think being creative, thinking on your feet, and having the opportunity to do justice to a text—to make it come to life in your own adaptation—is an amazing opportunity.
What have you learned from your different projects? The number one thing that I have learned is that you really can’t give a shit about what negative people have to say about you and what makes you happy. [Laughs] You have to work very hard at your craft…and then you have to let it go. It’s a
complete juxtaposition in a way. You work so hard, so hard, so hard at memorizing, learning, making sure the notes and dialogue are correct. Then once you get up on stage, you have to let it go and trust that you know it—that you have it in your body.
Do you have a favorite role you’ve played and why? My favorite role I’ve ever done—the role I could continue doing the rest of my life and never get sick of—is the role of Franca in the musical The Light in the Piazza. She’s a hot-headed Italian, which for me comes very naturally because I grew up with a hot-headed Italian mother from New York. Franca is such a complex character. She’s spicy and sweet, exotic and nurturing. She’s all over the map. Not only does she have a kickass singing role, but her dialogue is so dramatic, funny, and powerful.
What has been the most challenging role you’ve played and how did you grow from it? I would have to say the role I just did in Hawaii: Contessa Almaviva in the opera Le nozze di Figaro. I don’t typically sing Mozart, but rather Romantic period music (like Puccini and Verdi), so this was a more “conservative” part for me, both vocally and in terms of character development. It’s very much about being contained—being poised and proper, singing clean and precise.
In rehearsal, because so often you work with fellow artists at different stages in their careers or training, you’re challenged to really know your part backwards and forwards in case others drop the ball. Despite this added pressure, you always have to maintain your professionalism and confidence so others can learn and pass that energy on to others in the cast.
The Cultivator of Content Magazine, Daniel Garcia, and The Developer, David Valdespino Jr., reflect on 2024 and the curation of issues 16.1 through 16.4.
Entering the thirteenth year of printing Content Magazine, The Cultivator, Daniel Garcia reflects on early goals set for the magazine. One goal, he recalls, was to “try to do a second issue and the third issue and the fourth issue. The early days were like, ‘Are we gonna be able to do another one?” Today, as Content Magazine approaches the release of its 70th issue, The Content team, which includes its publisher, SVCreates, editors, photographers, writers, graphic designers, and interns, has continued reaching the magazine’s goal of featuring local creatives in print.
In this conversation, David and Daniel discuss the production of issues 16.1 through 16.4, highlights from 2024, and David Valdespino Jr.’s 2nd anniversary as the Developer of Content Magazine.
Join Content Magazine on Friday, March 14, 2025, for The South Bay Artist Summit: Empowering creatives at the intersection of art and entrepreneurship, produced in partnership with the City of San Jose Office of Cultural Affairs, and Pick-Up Party 17.2, “Connect” at the San Jose City Hall Rotunda. The South Bay Artist Summit will feature an artist career panel, presentations on career development, a cultural exchange presentation, and an artist resource fair. Learn More.
April 30, 2025, marks the 50th anniversary of the Fall of Saigon and the end of the Vietnam War.* As we commemorate this important occasion, the day also provides an opportunity to reflect on the journey that brought Vietnamese refugees to the United States, as well as the growth and development of this community.
Since the Vietnam War deeply divided the United States, it is not surprising that the arrival of the Southeast Asian refugees was also highly contested. There were those who did not want to receive them as refugees and those who believed that it was America’s responsibility to admit them because of its role during this conflict. Regardless of the original disagreement, Vietnamese Americans are now a permanent fixture in our society.
The journey for Vietnamese refugees in the first decades in America was often challenging. As refugees who left their country with practically nothing but the clothes on their backs, they found themselves focusing on the need to survive and to keep their families safe. Almost overnight, they found themselves living in a new and different country with a different language, culture, traditions, and customs. As the years went by, we began to see the formation of small yet vibrant communities throughout the country, which allowed the refugees to become “Americans” and create ways to continue to maintain their culture, religions, and traditions. As of this writing, many Little Saigons can be seen throughout the US, including in San Jose, home to the largest Vietnamese American community outside of Vietnam. Along the way, the experiences and hardships of being a displaced person from the first generation were hidden and, at times, intentionally not shared with their children. As often is the case with immigrants, the first generation did not have the luxury of contemplation and reflection as their focus was primarily survival. However, as the “knee-high” and second generations come of age, especially those who attended colleges and universities, the need for their history to be unearthed and told begins to unfold. They wanted to understand more about their families’ history, their journey to the US, and how all these events have shaped them.
“All are using their medium and creativity to incorporate their life experiences as refugees and children of refugees growing up here exposed to two different cultures.”
Fifty years also provides an adequate passage of time for the second generation to come of age and become professionals in their own right. This collection includes academic, visual, and performance artists, writers, musicians, chefs, and more. All are using their medium and creativity to incorporate their life experiences as refugees and children of refugees growing up here exposed to two different cultures. They are all capturing and expressing an understanding of our society that speaks to the issues that have shaped various aspects of the social and cultural world. In many ways, all are asserting their place and using their “voice” and creativity to help understand and define what it means to be living in a multiracial, multiethnic, diverse country like the United States. They remind us that America is a place that has been built not just by the labor of different communities but also by the tremendous contribution to the arts, literature, music, and culture of our society.
__________
*NOTE: While this is oftentimes referred to as the “Vietnam War,” it is essential to recognize that it also involved Cambodians and Hmong refugees who were displaced as a result of this conflict.
Tshaka Menelik Imhotep Campbell is a former Silicon Valley Poet Laureate and has authored four books of poetry: Tarman, Muted Whispers, STUFF | I will Write More, and Tunnel Vision. He is preparing to release a fifth book with El Martillo Press, Blood at the Root.
Born in London, England, and raised in Brooklyn, New York, Tshaka was introduced to the words of Malcolm X and Winston Churchill at an early age by his father, an orator and advocate for the power of language. While the influence of those lessons lay dormant for much of his youth, Tshaka was concurrently exposed to the rhythm and rhyme of early rap music and life as a Black man in America.
Tshaka’s passion for poetry did not materialize until his early thirties. Surrounded by a group of close friends during a Friday night gathering called “Isms at 540,” Tshaka realized the beauty within poetry through a friendly writing competition. When Tshaka picked up the pen to write, these interests and dormant influences converged on paper using rhythm and rhyme to parse the backdrop of life and history. What began as a gathering of friends became a community of poets whose respect for the art form inspired his work. Today, much of Tshaka’s poetry revolves around a need for identity, exploring themes such as fatherhood and the experiences of Black Americans.
Tshaka has the ability to manipulate elements of language, such as consonance and alliteration, into a metaphorical gloved fist that can strike audiences to the core. That ability is balanced by the softness of themes related to human experience. His soon-to-be-released book of poems, Blood At The Root, was written for his daughter and has taken over a decade to complete. In this book, he hopes to share experiences she can bring into her life. Blood at the Root aims to address topics related to love, loss, and the human condition.
In this conversation, we discuss Tshaka’s formative upbringing, his creation story as a poet, his purpose for writing, and the perspective behind his upcoming book.
Catch Tshaka at SJZ Breakroom on Sunday, February 16, from 6:30 to 9:30p as he performs and hosts Beautiful Black Books Presents Tiny Room Poetry Series, featuring some of the Bay Area and New York’s most celebrated artists. Tshaka has curated this special Black History Month event that celebrates the power of poetry and music. RSVP Here.
*Edit: The intended reference to the breadmaking process at 48:50 is “proofing” rather than “pruning.”
Born in Iran and raised in Boston, Mitra Fabian’s passion for art began at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. It was there that she took a sculpture class, which she describes as a turning point in her life. “That’s when everything clicked, and I realized, ‘Oh! This is what I can’t live without doing!’ ” she recalls. That spark pushed her into the world of art for good. She graduated with an art degree and moved to Los Angeles to try to start a career. “I quickly realized how difficult it is to maintain a studio practice and get anywhere in the art world. That’s when I decided to go back to school,” Fabian explains. She went on to earn her MFA at California State University, Northridge, where she also discovered a love for teaching.
Today, Fabian’s career is dedicated to both passions. She has had success as a sculptor and installation artist, including shows at the Institute of Contemporary Art San Jose and the Centre d’Art Marnay in France, has shown in galleries and museums across the country, and has been featured in several magazines. In 2021, she was commissioned to create five pieces for Google—large resistor “drawings” that now reside in one of their campus buildings. “It was an incredibly challenging but exciting job,” she says of the Google project. “I felt it was a significant milestone because it required serious focus, dedication, and professionalism. It also felt great to earn that chunk of money.”
In addition to her art, Fabian is an experienced sculpture and ceramics teacher. She began her educational career at Sacramento City College before moving to the Bay Area to teach at West Valley College in Saratoga. Currently, she serves as the chair of the art department. “I think I got really lucky with my teaching career,” she says with earnest modesty. “A year out of grad school I got a full-time, tenure-track position at Sacramento City College and was there for seven years. Then I got the position at West Valley and have been here ever since.”
Fabian’s teaching philosophy leans into the idea of artists as outsiders. She encourages them to embrace their creativity and find new ways to envision the world. “I really try to tap into their weird,” she says. “I’m pretty strict about foundational things, but then I really encourage them to take chances and forge their own ways.”
Fabian believes that there are many opportunities for artists in unexpected places, particularly in the Bay Area, and that art plays a critical role in many different professions, from engineering to business and beyond. “Art makes people more dynamic thinkers and problem-solvers in whatever career field they choose,” she says. “I believe the biggest opportunities might be in the arena of 3D printing and other digital technologies: we are already seeing how this technology is being put to incredible uses in the medical and architectural fields.”
The shift in learning styles and expectations post-COVID has been one of the biggest challenges of her educational career. “My goal as chair has been [to ensure] good and fair communication with my colleagues, as well as looking out for the best interest of our department and students,” she says. “This was especially tough during COVID. I think the greatest hurdles we face revolve around a post-COVID world in which many students are trying to regain a sense of normalcy. The ripple effects of mental and financial difficulties, as well as a general decline in enrollment, are still reverberating, and for who knows how long?”
Despite the challenges, the college and her department have exciting opportunities ahead, including a new visual arts building for the Cilker School of Art and Design. “It’s been a project long in the making!” Fabian exclaims. “We will have new ceramics, sculpture, painting, digital, animation, and drawing classrooms, as well as a new gallery. The new building is a beautiful state-of-the-art facility. Students will experience bright, clean rooms with new technology and equipment and great instructors. Our goal with this new facility is a private art school experience at an affordable community college.”
And while her role at West Valley is significant, she continues to find time to devote to her own art. Currently, she’s working on new pieces that will be featured at New Museum Los Gatos next fall. Staying creative herself mirrors the approach she takes to fostering artistic inspiration within the students in her classrooms. “In a world where we are constantly being asked to conform to certain standards and students are spoon-fed answers, I find that they discover genius when they can let go, get curious, fill their brains with wonderful stuff, experiment, make mistakes, and then make something good.”
A local OG graffiti king innovates by keeping it old school.
The history of graffiti art in the public consciousness owes its duplicity to the fact that the medium of choice is borrowed canvases from liminal spaces of urban geometry. After more than 60 years of urban graffiti, the art form still exists in a precarious space between acceptance and distaste. As the art form progressed over the years—from its origins with artists like NYC’s TAKI 183 tagging subways in the 1960s and 70s—graffiti innovators and legends were born. Almost anyone, regardless of their interest in art, will be familiar with the names Picasso, Monet, or Dalí. Graffiti artists, however, don’t hold the same place in society’s consciousness, despite the fact that pivotal figures from around the world—like Futura 2000, Cap, Skeme, and Cornbread—are essential to the evolution and development of graffiti as a true art form. One of our own homegrown legends goes by the name King157 and has been putting up his heart and soul on walls and trains for 40 years now.
Decoto, a small town that was eventually absorbed by Union City and Fremont, was predominantly populated by Mexican Americans during World War II. By the 1970s, at the height of the Chicano Movement and as gentrification gripped Decoto neighborhoods, racial tensions gave way to riots. The community expressed their stance during this struggle through graffiti. At this moment in time and place, King was two years old, living with his family in the heart of the fray.
“I represent the old school, using the gift I was given to produce high quality professional graffiti art…and yes, that name will always be associated with the word ‘outlaw.’ ”
King moved to San Jose before he was nine but often visited his family in Decoto on the weekends. One of his earliest memories of picking up a spray can was painting a Schwinn Lowrider bike when he was seven years old. He was constantly surrounded by letters, fonts, and the beauty of creating. He remembers the Old English cholo lettering tattooed on his tíos and his mom, Sally, drawing and writing beautiful poems. Sally and his Tía Sandra take credit for teaching him how to color, blend, and stay inside the lines. As King drove back and forth between Decoto and San Jose, the “cholo gangster letters” seen on highways 680 and 101 started to make an impression on him.
By the 1980s, King157 was putting up his own pieces and burners. He is known for his clean, thin, and complex lines in his lettering, his use of vibrant colors, and his b-boy and b-girl characters that harken back to 1970s comic characters Puck and Cheech Wizard. King was inspired by everything from Teen Angels magazine, comic books, Saturday morning cartoons, and even the Yellow Pages. “Back then you didn’t have the internet,” he explains. “I rode my trusty Mongoose BMX all over Northside and Eastside San Jo, then took the bus to Bart to Oakland and San Francisco. I said to myself, ‘There have to be other crazy guys that love this shit as much as I do.’ So I would explore and document the art form called graffiti art with my 110 Kodak camera (thanks, ma!). This new graffiti movement was made up by kids…remember that part,” King says. He drew further inspiration from local artists, such as Mix 182, T.G.K. Crew, Nexus, and T.D.K. Crew.
King has been fine-tuning his style ever since then, while staying true to the origins of his style. “I tried all styles, experimented in the 1980s and all of the ’90s, but in the great year of Y2K 2000, I had to ask myself, ‘Why did I start writing in the first place?’ Simple answer: It was all about letters, and it will always be about letters. So I broke down my style to no connections, no loop-de-loops, no doodads, or arrows…just the funk, the essence of the letter.”
Though he has witnessed the evolution of graffiti over the past 40 years, King still believes it hasn’t found its proper respect as an art form among the general public. Muralists have benefited from the many attempts by communities to provide a space for the art form, but for King, graffiti is not graffiti if it’s officially sanctioned. That is the beauty of it—the disapproval of graffiti became part of the fabric of its history and identity. King relates, “I represent the old school, using the gift I was given to produce high-quality professional graffiti art…and yes, that name will always be associated with the word ‘outlaw.’ ”
Graffiti work keeps you on the move, and King is no exception. He is still rocking his 1980s flavors, most recently at the famed 44th annual Graffiti Hall of Fame in Harlem, where he shared his work with top graffiti artists around the world. “You can say I’m living in a dream, another revolution in the circle of life. Rock on King157, the last of the Mohicans.”
Check out King’s new mural in Downtown San Jose at South First Street and San Salvador, on the south side of The Studio Climbing.
Celebrating the vibrancy and impact of early-career artists across disciplines.
SVCreates is excited to announce the 2024 Content Emerging Artist Award recipients, celebrating the vibrancy and impact of early-career artists working in all disciplines across visual, performing, and literary arts. This award, a testament to SVCreates’ commitment to building the capacity and amplifying the voices of artists in our community, has been granted to two artists who have made a significant impact. These artists, who work with diverse communities and across mediums, have shown remarkable courage in taking risks and embracing challenges. Their unwavering commitment to their practice, intentional sharing of their vision, and rigorous approach to creation and production are commendable. We are privileged to have them as part of our community in Santa Clara County, where they have contributed significantly to the richness and vibrancy of our region. This year’s recipients are Esther Young and Elba Rachel.
Esther Young
When Esther Young sits down to write music, she processes the outside world by looking inward—a fragment of a memory, a dusting of spirituality, the electrochemical processor that analyzes those inputs. The intuitive nature of her work is reflected in lyrics and stories that sometimes even she can only decode once she steps away from the source. The product is what she calls “ethereal indie folk.” Her music videos portray things like going for a drive, playing guitar in the woods, or doing laundry, but they contain a tilt of celestial normalcy that begs viewers to review the lyrics in the description. In many ways, Esther is laying bare her process of self-discovery for listeners and asking them to join her. In many ways, that process of self-discovery has been a process of redefining community.
Esther Young grew up as a shy kid in the East Bay, raised by a Chinese immigrant family devoted to their Chinese Christian faith. Esther was enrolled in classical piano lessons, sang in church, and generally listened to the music her parents showed her. She recalls, “I grew up around a mix of crazy music. My dad likes Chinese pop music, and I wasn’t allowed to listen to a lot of secular music.” At that time, her relationship with music was structured with a focus on worship. Early on, the roots of her songwriting stemmed from the prayers she would journal. That practice was a haven for her intimate musings.
“To write a heartfelt song, you must live with an open heart so that the ache is tangible.”
-Esther Young
Esther’s teenage years proved transitional in her approach to life, music, and spirituality. She disenrolled from classical piano classes, picked up the guitar, and began listening to secular music. These developments drew Esther closer to her voice as an artist but were also forms of assimilating into an idyllic American lifestyle. She admits, “I wanted to blend in with American culture for much of my life. I tried hard to avoid the parts of me that are Chinese.” Esther later attended Santa Clara State University, where she majored in both English and music. She became invested in finding her voice through the communities she engaged with. That experience culminated in her disaffiliation with religion. She explains, “I don’t identify as Christian anymore. I thought so many people should be saved, but according to the rules I had learned, they wouldn’t be. It was the existence of all my beautiful gay and queer friends that made those rules not make sense. I just wanted to live my most authentic life, and I started to feel more like myself—less conflicted.”
Esther credits the open mics she attended in college as a critical moment in her trajectory as a singer-songwriter. She says, “Mighty Mike McGee’s storytelling open mics were the first I went to. It wasn’t even music open mics, but I knew that was the space I wanted to be in. As a writer, what’s valuable to us is what’s being said and why it’s being said.” That emphasis on storytelling is manifested in Esther’s lyrically driven compositions. Much of her writing is distilled from her own lived experiences, but she hopes to imbue her work with universal themes and community voices. Esther’s work as a journalist and non-profit cultural worker has helped shape that perspective and worldview. She says, “As writers and artists, to be effective, we must explore our blind spots; to know ourselves, we must know our history. My pet peeve is when songwriters put together lines that have no purpose other than to rhyme—what a wasted opportunity. To write a heartfelt song, you must live with an open heart so that the ache is tangible.”
Esther’s journey of self-discovery through song is ongoing, but she is constantly refining her process. As a recipient of the 2024 Content Emerging Artist Award, Esther hopes to spend more time in the studio recording unreleased music and begin work on new music videos. In addition, she has recently been collaborating with local contemporaries. “Playing with other musicians that I look up to, who have strengths that I don’t have, has been exciting to me,” she says. Esther’s emphasis on community parallels her reflections on the importance of art. She explains, “If the art community has a foundational belief, the way that church does, it would be ‘what you do matters,’ period. I feel like that’s what holds our communities together. Everyone has a chance to tell their truth. There’s that sense of acceptance. I think that’s the thing about art that is so healthy for people.”
Reflecting on her past, Esther says, “I’m grateful to the younger versions of me that spent time alone writing. I’m proud of her.” When asked why folks should care about Esther Young, she replies, “I’m always trying. When I see the worth in something, I will put some effort behind it. I’m always sincere.”
It was 1983, and the AIDS epidemic was still in its relatively early stages: hundreds of lives had been claimed in the US, those of gay men disproportionately so. Queer communities in cities around the world were filled with anxiety and fear around the virus and the lack of political action to take it on as their friends, families, and loved ones were suffering. With such pain and loss becoming an everyday reality, members of these communities began searching for outlets to offer hope. In this difficult climate, the Silicon Valley Gay Men’s Chorus was formed. (Originally called the Liedermann Gay Men’s Chorus of San Jose—the German word liedermann translates to “men of song.”) “Though the chorus was created with the purpose of gathering in song, it also became an important way for the queer community to come together and grieve, lift each other up, and overcome homophobia,” says Wilson Alexander Aguilar, a performing member, and the organization’s current marketing director.
Founded as a nonprofit 10-person chorus, the group held its first performance in 1984 under the artistic direction of Robert Welton. They updated their name from the obscure German to its current incarnation the following year, and a South Bay institution was born. Through the years, the SVGMC has performed at San Jose Gay Pride celebrations, at Silicon Valley Pride flag-raisings, at sporting events, and more, while also showcasing seasonal performances at venues around the Bay.
Today, the group is helmed by Artistic Director Corey Liggans Miller, a longtime musician who grew up in Vacaville and studied music at CSU Fresno before getting a master of arts in music at San Jose State. He has performed in numerous musical theater productions, honing his performance chops and setting himself up for success with the chorus. He also works as the choir director at Raymond J. Fisher Middle School in Los Gatos, where he is able to pass along his passion for music to the next generation.
“I was looking for a musical outlet outside of work and found a new family in the chorus,” Miller recalls of his reason for joining. He began 2017 as a singer in the group’s performance of Oh the Places You’ll Go before taking on an assistant director role the following year and becoming artistic director in 2020.
Miller’s story mirrors that of many members who bring a variety of musical backgrounds, having settled in the South Bay, working in many different industries, and whose desire to sing and perform brought them into the fold of the chorus. The organization has no full-time employees, only dedicated members with a passion for music and community. “I love the connection I have with my SVGMC family,” Miller says, “like in rehearsal or during a performance when I experience the way in which a singer is moved beyond words and channels that emotion through singing, or when we have an opportunity to connect with the queer community at Silicon Valley Pride and with the greater South Bay Area community through our concerts.”
As part of their Rubyversary (40th Anniversary) Season, the group will host a drag show fundraiser in March; a spring concert, Bloom, in April that features music by some of Broadway’s LGBTQIA2S+ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning, intersex, asexual, two-spirit, and others) composers and lyricists; and conclude in June with Forty, a collection of favorite songs from over the years.
Last year saw a rebranding for the organization, with a new logo that is meant to open up the inclusiveness of the organization in several ways. “It’s fluid, by design, like our community and singers,” Aguilar explains. “Gone are the days of adhering to just the original colors of the rainbow pride flag. The letters in our logo meld into each other, weaving and sometimes morphing into the next. It visually represents how our organization and community are stronger together. The most significant design element is that the M in SVGMC’s logo is less whole. This purposeful hint is a nod at how SVGMC is no longer made up of just cisgender men. “[We are] proud to welcome anyone who can sing as a tenor, baritone, or bass, regardless of gender, sexuality, abledness, or ethnicity.”
With that thoughtful nod to the changing times and the promise of the future, the Silicon Valley Gay Men’s Chorus is continuing to do what the group has done for the past 40 years: uplift the community through joy, hope, and a sense that we’re all in this together—which we are, so why not sing some songs along the way?
On a rainy night at the Santa Clara County fairgrounds, artists from Gilroy, Santa Cruz, San Jose, and beyond came together inside the Fairgrounds Fiesta Hall to celebrate the release of Issue 17.1, “Discover.” The issue connected elements of street art, graffiti, dance, fine art, and music.
This production culminated in a nearly year-long thought partnership with 1Culture Gallery in downtown San Jose. Conversations led to an interest in spotlighting the graffiti and street art culture and paying tribute to the “O.G.s” of South Bay graffiti, whose significant contributions to the area’s artistic culture have only recently begun to receive the recognition they deserve.
The Fiesta Hall featured a weekend-long art exhibition in which 12 artists produced original works on 12 18-foot panels that lined the walls of the building. The floor space displayed an additional 13 pieces on pop-up mural walls fabricated by the team at 1Culture. After a week of long nights and installations, the artists returned Friday night to engage with the community.
Food trucks curated by Feast Mode, a project by Culture Night Market, wheeled up to the southern patio of the hall, the bar was stocked with seasonal brews from Foxtale Fermentation Project, the stage was strung with lights, and guests began to arrive. The night started with time for guests to walk the gallery and examine the larger-than-life murals to the sounds of DJ Garlic Soul of featured collective Shades of Brown Alliance (SOBA) from Gilroy. Artists’ tables were surrounded by guests who asked questions about their work and wares. Around 7:30p, the Content team took the stage to thank the partners, artists, and community that made these events possible before introducing the breakdance crew, Elephant Graveyard. Elephant Graveyard performed a technical routine of breaks, spins, and freezes surrounded by audience members.
The night continued with the soulful selection of vinyl records while folks chatted at cocktail tables, wandered the hall, and grabbed last-minute bites. For a cold and rainy night the week before Thanksgiving, there was a tangible warmth emanating from connections, new and old, as guests discovered the essence of South Bay art and graffiti culture. The interactions between artists and enthusiasts at a venue that, for many, contained fond childhood memories created an atmosphere of family and thanks.
THANK YOU, Partners
Santa Clara County Fairgrounds | 1CULTURE | Foxtale Fermentation Project | Feast Mode SJ by Culture Night Market
Join Content Magazine for Pick-Up Party 17.2, “Connect,” on Friday, March 14, 2025, at The Rotunda at San Jose City Hall. The night is produced in partnership with The City of San Jose Office of Cultural Affairs and will showcase the contributions of Vietnamese-American creatives in the South Bay.
Issue 17.1 Featuring:
DJ – Brotha Reese | Muralist – Cameron “Camer1” Moberg | Breakdancer – Vicki “La Vix” chang | Painter/muralist – Scotty Greathouse | Textile Artist – Jaya Griscom | Grafitti Legend – King157 | Mural – “The Grand Strike,” Juan Velazquez, Analyn Bones, Miguel Machuca, Jordan Gabriel, Eddie Romo, and Melissa Manuel | Grafitti Legend – Nexus | Painter/Illustrator – Fabricio Ponce | Graffiti Primer – Joey Reyes | Shades of Brown Collective – Joey Castaneda, Jade Castaneda, Louie Andrade, Edward Valdez, Isaiah Kittles, Angelica Jimenez, Desiree Villescaz, Taylor Cherry, Itzayana Silva, Julian Torres, Sarah Cassandra Guizar Retana, Darlene Cordova
Danielle Siembieda grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and began letter-writing campaigns focused on environmental causes as early as 9-10 years old. She was also encouraged by her parents to create art.
Danielle Siembieda’s work can often be found at the intersection of art and activism. Danielle is the Senior Program Manager for the City of San Jose’s arts industry support team. In addition to this role, she is an artist in her own right. She classifies her current project as alter-eco art, a performance art practice in which she uses technology to modify her appearance online and embody a being named Jean Gnome.
Danielle is currently implementing the Cultural Commentary Project in association with the organization Women Eco Artist Dialog (WEAD). The Cultural Commentary Project invites artists to read through public policies and create artwork in response. The project is part of an upcoming exhibition at Root Division in San Francisco, opening on December 16, 2024. Siembieda is hosting the next Cultural Commentary Project Group on Friday, December 6, 2024, in Downtown San Jose.
In this conversation, Danielle shares her artistic journey that stemmed from an interest in eco-activism, the layered concepts behind her work, and her role working with the City of San Jose.
Celebrating the vibrancy and impact of early-career artists across disciplines.
SVCreates is excited to announce the 2024 Content Emerging Artist Award recipients, celebrating the vibrancy and impact of early-career artists working in all disciplines across visual, performing, and literary arts. This award, a testament to SVCreates’ commitment to building the capacity and amplifying the voices of artists in our community, has been granted to two artists who have made a significant impact. These artists, who work with diverse communities and across mediums, have shown remarkable courage in taking risks and embracing challenges. Their unwavering commitment to their practice, intentional sharing of their vision, and rigorous approach to creation and production are commendable. We are privileged to have them as part of our community in Santa Clara County, where they have contributed significantly to the richness and vibrancy of our region. This year’s recipients are Esther Young and Elba Rachel.
Elba Raquel
A young girl stares off into space while sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by family. “Elba!” the girl’s father says, snapping his fingers for a reaction. “Elba, where are you?” the man echoes. Elba replies as if a fog had begun to lift: “I am right here.” “No, we lost you,” her father replies.
Growing up, Elba Raquel was a daydreamer. When asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would reply with professions such as detective, writer, or world traveler. She shares, “I have a restless mind and a zest for life. My parents were protective of us growing up, but I always wanted to live a more exciting life.” As far back as she can remember, she loved drawing. When preparing for college, she knew “it was either going to be writing or art. I chose art because it was the only thing that fulfilled me 100 percent.” Through art, she could investigate the subjects she painted, travel to a world of her own creation, and tell stories through her imagery.
While steadfast in her passion to pursue art, Elba remembers her family’s skepticism. “They wanted to convince me to switch majors. They would say things like, ‘¿Dónde vas a comer? You’re not going to make any money as an artist.’ They thought I was wasting my potential.” She went on to earn an AS in two-dimensional design, a BFA in illustration from the Academy of Art University, and an MFA in art education from Santa Clara University. That self-determination to forge her own path has been a constant theme in her journey.
Elba discovered Mexican painter Frida Kahlo while in high school. Researching her work stirred Elba’s identity as an artist. Like Kahlo, Elba painted her reality, which included the pain of lost love, states of depression, and familial turmoil. Painting was a conduit for peace, a way to work through those emotions. She explains, “Art has been my savior. I also feel bad for my art because I place my burdens on it. Many of my paintings are about my torments, but I am working to make art about happiness and joy.”
Elba’s technical ability to produce masterful realism on canvas contrasts the time it has taken to discover her unique style and voice. That discovery process spanned a decade, including having children and becoming an art teacher. She truly fleshed out her approach only during the COVID-19 pandemic. Elba recalls, “I had completed enough Instagram challenges that asked artists to create characters in their own style, and I began to notice my own style. I was doing two-dimensional lead pencil realism with highlighter backgrounds. I started trying that style on a large scale and fell in love with it. I completed a piece called Mexicanas Unidas. That was my first ‘Elba’ piece.” Mexicanas Unidas is a 4-foot by 6-foot self-portrait in grayscale with a crimson-red background. The subject is adorned with colorful tattoos and is strangling a fang-baring snake.
“Art has been my savior. I also feel bad for my art because I place my burdens on it.”
-Elba Raquel
Mexicanas Unidas was a turning point in Elba’s career. Along with finding her style, she discovered her voice. Elba began painting murals at events like the Bizare Art Festival and with the San Jose–based artist collective Together We Create. She noticed the lack of women participating in live painting events and made empowering women part of her mission. “That’s my little bit of change. I know it has to start with me. The more successful I am as a female artist, the more others give themselves permission to do what I am doing.” As part of that mission, Elba has participated in the Art Builds Community’s Womanhood project that recognizes influential Santa Clara County women. She actively seeks women to assist her with projects, has created a portfolio of female muralists, and actively engages with feminist themes in her studio practice.
Elba describes her work as a muralist: “Muralism is my heart and soul because it gets me away from myself and takes me into a different role that serves the community. I love Frida Kahlo for her ability to put herself out there and be 100 percent vulnerable. But I admired Diego Rivera for his audacity in creating pieces that were larger than himself. Murals are my gift to the community. It’s their voice and vision through my style and symbolism.”
As a recipient of the 2024 Content Emerging Artist Award, Elba plans to create more from a place of joy, manifesting the reality she wants to live. “We think we have to create from pain. But we can also paint from light. We don’t always have to paint alone, either. Paintings don’t talk back to you. They don’t give you a life. People do.” She is currently working on a new body of work under the moniker “Bo$$ Bïtçh” that she plans to share with the community through social media by exploring performance art. Elba is determined to forge her own path and be a light for those who follow it.
Join us on Friday, November 22, for Pick-Up Party 17.1, “Discover” at The Santa Clara County Fairgrounds. This issue’s magazine in-real-life experience celebrates the creatives featured in the issue, including graffiti legends King157 & Nexus, breakdancer Vicki “La Vix” Chang, fiber artist Jaya Griscom, and more.
The party will feature over 20 pop-up murals presented in partnership with 1Culture, painted by artists from current and past issues of Content Magazine. The evening will also include food trucks curated by Feast Mode, beer from Foxtale Fermentation Project, music from Edward of SOBA Collective, and a dance performance from the breaking crew, Elephant Graveyard.
Issue 17.1, “Discover,” Cultivator Notes:
“I have wanted to do a primer on graffiti writing for years, and I am excited to see it finally become a reality in this issue. I wanted a primer because, though I don’t know much about graffiti, I wanted to honor the long tradition of street art in the South Bay and appreciate graffiti art’s role in many artists’ journeys. Many “bombers” have found their community through painting, which has helped them avoid other avenues that might not have been positive. I can’t pretend to be knowledgeable or an expert; thus, I am very thankful to Joey Reyes for helping bring this primer into existence.
Also, I want to thank Andrew Espino of 1Culture for his support in connecting us with Nexus and King157 and for providing a venue and a “yard” where this artwork could be created and displayed.
This issue is merely an overview of the craft. We will continue to feature these often-overlooked artists in the future, as we have in the past with Girafa, RC, Mesnger, and Wisper. But for now, we hope that in this issue, you will see that there is more to street art to be discovered.”
In this conversation, Daniel Garcia and David Valdespino Jr., the Cultivator and Developer of Content Magazine, discuss the curation of issue 17.1, “Discover,” share some insight into how each story connects, and layout what folks can expect from Pick-Up Party 17.1 “Discover.”
Thank you to our outstanding contributors. This magazine is only possible with your words, photos, and keen editing eye.
Thank you to our event partners: The Santa Clara County Fairgrounds, 1CULTURE, Foxtale Fermentation Project, and Feast Mode SJ by Culture Night Market.
Become a member and help support our mission to feature local creatives.
What does it mean to find your voice? For Miguel Kultura, a Mexican American musician, rapper, and producer, the answer lies in the beats he produces and the stories in his rhymes. Growing up in San José, Miguel loved hip hop, funk, and soul music. His interest in music led him to work with BAMN, By Any Medium Necessary, a South Bay collective of creatives in music and film production. The experience he gained from working with BAMN served as a tangible outlet for his creative voice.
Despite health challenges that could have stalled his creative journey, Miguel used them as motivation to push forward and as a reminder to stay positive. He began researching holistic medicines that connected him to his Mexican ancestry. He considers his work in music and with his community as the role of a ‘light seeker’ devoted to telling stories about the positive influences of Indigenous and Chicano cultures. Part of that work has been advocacy for his Eastside San Jose Mexican American community. He has engaged in activism by founding a group called Jovenes Activos, which fought to preserve community murals that represented the culture of East San Jose.
As a rapper and producer, Miguel addresses the lack of representation of Spanish rap and hip-hop culture in Northern California. His songs, typically performed in Spanish, are meant to weave together parts of his life with the broader experience of the Mexican American communities in California. His productions bend and fuse various musical genres to create a sound representing Chicanos’ rich culture and history. Core to his lyrical content is delivering a positive message that he hopes can heal hardships and highlight the strength in humility.
Miguel’s latest release, Estilo Chicano, is a heartfelt expression of the strength, joy, and style found in Chicano car culture. Estilo Chicano celebrates low-riders and the pride in a community guided by a common interest. Estilo Chicano is part of a new tape Miguel is working on that will incorporate new sounds into Miguel Kultura’s style. He mentions that specific productions will emphasize vocals and harmonies, in addition to his raps, which will lend themselves to a more soulful and romantic tone. By expanding his sound with new projects and planning future tours, Miguel hopes to continue making music that speaks to Chicanos everywhere.
In this conversation, Miguel shares the motivation that he has found in adversity, his journey of self-discovery, and the importance of representing positivity in his work.
Follow Miguel Kultura on Instagram @miguelkultura and explore his website for merch, albums, and more.
Join Tara for the opening of her solo exhibition, “Mining the Plastocene,” at Felix Kulpa Gallery in Santa Cruz on Friday, November 1, as part of First Friday Santa Cruz.
Tara de la Garza’s art finds beauty and meaning in discarded materials. As a sculptor and artist in residence at the Cubberley Artist Studio Program in Palo Alto, she approaches themes of environmental justice through visual storytelling. Tara began collecting plastics while pursuing a sustainable lifestyle and later found artistic potential in the often vibrant or semi-transparent commercial byproducts. Her work centers on both reuse and upcycling while inviting viewers to consider a future increasingly defined by the saturation of synthetic plastics. In de la Garza’s upcoming solo exhibition entitled “Mining the Plastocene,” opening on November 1, 2024, at Felix Kulpa Gallery in Santa Cruz, she continues to explore the inclusion of plastic within the sedimentary and archaeological record through the eyes of history. As part of this solo exhibition she will also host upcycling workshops and release a book showcasing the evolution of her work from collage to sculpture.
Tara’s artistic journey began at a magnet theater arts high school in Australia. She nurtured a passion for performance by studying film and television in college. The filmmaking process led to her love for computers, and she later spent a decade as a graphic designer, thriving on client projects but eventually yearning for a deeper artistic expression. She grappled with her message and intentions as she transitioned to fine art. She would experiment with various mediums, ultimately focusing on large-scale collages that explored humanity’s connection to the environment. A pivotal moment came when she encountered a haunting image of a dead albatross, its stomach full of plastic, which sparked a visceral response and prompted her to investigate the profound impacts of pollution.
Tara’s work resonates with sustainability and environmental advocacy. She credits the Australian sensibilities she grew up with for her belief that even one person can make a significant impact. In her youth, Tara saw people in her community of Fremantle, Western Australia working towards sustainability; composting, thrifting, and making do with what they had. Consciously or subconsciously, those experiences have inspired her current body of work.
In tandem with her solo artistic endeavors, Tara seeks to make tangible impacts through her nonprofit, Inventurous based in Palo Alto. Inventurous focuses on recycling plastic in innovative and community-oriented ways. The nonprofit aims to educate communities by taking in locally sourced plastic waste for creative reuse. A recent public art project facilitated by Inventurous used 3D printers to create papel picado from upcycled plastics in honor of Dia de los Muertos. These art-based community engagement initiatives open up conversations about where our waste goes and demonstrate circular economies and the potential for plastic waste.
In this conversation, Tara discusses finding her voice as an artist, the duality of plastic–its danger and potential, and the opportunity for one person to spark meaningful change.
Russell Brown began working at Adobe in 1985 as a graphic designer, art director, and the company’s 38th employee. His journey to that role began with a creative spirit that traces back to his youth. Growing up in Kent, Washington, Brown was more interested in painting and photography at home than studying for A’s in school. His passion for creativity led him to earn a degree in ceramics at the University of Washington before he was encouraged by his father to pursue a second, more ‘practical,’ BFA in package design, filmmaking, and photography from ArtCenter College of Design.
Brown worked in industrial design in San Francisco before moving to Atari, designing packaging materials for the popular video game Pac-Man. When his Atari office closed its doors in 1984, Brown spent some time at Apple, where he was introduced to the Macintosh computer, PostScript, and the LaserWriter. Brown’s creative journey solidified once he was hired by John Warnock and Charles Geschke, founders of a newfound startup, Adobe, whose PostScript page description language would later be licensed by Apple for use in its LaserWriter printers.
Since 1985, Russell Brown has ridden the wave of technological innovation, having first witnessed demos of a new digital editing software in 1995 and ushering in the acquisition of Photoshop by Adobe from the Knoll brothers, becoming Adobe’s first “evangelist” (an expert in Adobe software who shares their knowledge of Adobe products through instruction, tutorials, and live events.) and training generations of Adobe employees and industry creatives in the potential of Photoshop.
Brown continues to push the limits of creative expression using Adobe technology, such as Photoshop AI. His photography, taken exclusively on iPhone, has gained an extensive following on social media. His work demonstrates the power of modern technology and photo editing.
Brown is also known as the boisterous host of live Adobe training courses. In 2024, he will host a hands-on course entitled Les Cirque Galactique designed for art directors, designers, and illustrators to learn advanced digital imaging techniques within a real-world project. Brown and a team of distinguished creative instructors will provide a class of 80 students the chance to work with some of the best artists in the industry and master new skills in advanced workflows using Adobe Photoshop, Illustrator, and Firefly. This preconference course precedes the annual Adobe MAX creativity conference inaugurated in 2003.
While 2024 Adobe MAX will be hosted live in Miami, guests can join for FREE online and still benefit from all the learning and inspiration in sessions, keynotes, and Sneaks. Online attendance is free and unlimited. Register here.
In this conversation, Brown traces the origins of his creative eye and reflects on the use of AI in the creative process. We discuss his transition from traditional analog mediums to digital and what the future may hold for Adobe Photoshop and the world of AI Photography.
You may not know it, but the guy serving you drinks from behind the counter at The Fountainhead Bar can also serve up slices of fascinating musical history. David Ma runs The Fountainhead Bar by night and works by day as a freelance journalist with a long background in music, writing for such publications as The Guardian, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, and SPIN. Whether he’s spinning records at Cafe Stritch or hunting down the likes of Chuck D for an interview, Ma is always absorbed in music. His newest project is developing a record label—in conjunction with San Jose vinyl records and albums shop Needle to the Groove—to emphasize emerging, overlooked, and local artists.
“Out of high school, my friend started a magazine. I started writing for it and it really grabbed my interest. It coincided with me getting heavily into music during the rise of the indie rap movement, at a time when you could just hit up big names in the industry and they would get back to you. I started writing for free, over time got my name out there, and have been lucky enough to work with writers and editors that I really look up to. It’s a passion project and always has been.”
Tessie Barrera-Scharaga is an artist who makes connections: connections between language and culture, art and communities, the past and the present, and, most importantly, between people. Walking into her studio space, curious viewers quickly realize that this is one artist who is not limited to the canvas. Her work tables hold glass plates, ink, clay, brushes, and an assortment of paper, while books line the shelves and carefully placed pieces hang from the walls.
Tessie is primarily an installation artist, incorporating poetry, found objects, clay, prints, and rescued clothing into a cohesive statement. Her home, she mentions, is going through a long-awaited expansion. “I have never had the luxury of living with my art, like other artists do,” she muses, “because my work is very large and it is always in storage” – a common sacrifice of the large-scale installation artist. With the expansion of her Willow Glen home almost complete, Tessie is eager to realize her dream after more than fifteen years of boxes and storage spaces.
Walking through Tessie’s space, it is easy to forget you are in a home at all. The crisp lighting hits her piece titled “Lifeline,” casting shadows of the socks and dresses of a young girl encased in raw clay. Further into the room, her installation, “Coffee: The Malady of the Third World Dreaming,” looms – a metal framed bed with a pierced sack of coffee beans for a mattress, the beans spilling over the hardwood floors.
For a large portion of her career, Tessie worked as a graphic designer and returned to school to complete her BFA in Spatial Arts locally at San Jose State. She then continued on, receiving her MFA from Mills College. It was during and after this time that she not only honed her skills in ceramics and installation but also discovered a passion for teaching. After working with children at the San Jose Museum of Art, Tessie was dismayed to discover that her daughter was not receiving any art instruction in kindergarten. “Teaching was just a matter of a necessity for me,” she observes. “Your children force you to do things; you want them to have art and music, and that was a motivator for me. And through that, I affected other children and other families. To me, it is important to take care of the community that your children grow up in.”
Inspired to get involved, Tessie began volunteering in her daughter’s classroom. “During that time all the parents started noticing that this little classroom was getting art, but not the whole school, so they got together and talked to the principal – and the principal offered me a job as the art instructor,” she laughs. What began as one mother volunteering soon grew into a teaching role she enjoyed for the next fifteen years. “It started with a couple of grades, and through the years, we added more. To the point that when I left there, we had art throughout the entire school.”
“Art provides a space where you can dig into yourself, to bring out or to let go of your fear and to try different things. I see that happening with children here and in El Salvador. Art is also a place of joy, because children really enjoy being given attention and doing something with an adult. That’s really what’s most important and enjoyable for them. It validates their experience.”
Beyond her experience in her daughter’s school, Tessie has also created community art projects with several San Jose area schools and volunteered with underprivileged children in her family’s home in El Salvador. Some of this work has focused on helping to foster the children’s connections with their home language and their culture. “A lot of the students go to a school, and they learn a second language, but they don’t really know very much about the culture or the background.” Tessie’s work often incorporates and introduces literary figures from the Spanish-speaking world that children may have no other opportunities to experience – figures like Gabriel García Márquez, José Martínez Ruiz, and, her personal favorite, Pablo Neruda.
Tessie has also spent time in El Salvador volunteering alongside her mother in a local Catholic orphanage. “At first, when you give a class and you show them how to use the materials, they are very curious and can’t wait to try them. They want to smell it, touch it, they want to feel it – what is this thing? They get it in their fingers and want to put it on their face,” she says. These children have never seen a crayon or an oil pastel. “For the children in El Salvador in the orphanage, they have absolutely nothing else except what volunteers come and do with them. When I go, I bring all the materials, but…” Tessie adds, “You don’t have to go far to find children with nothing.”
Similarities and meanings present themselves to Tessie in the children’s art, both here and abroad. “Art provides a space where you can dig into yourself, to bring out or to let go of your fear and to try different things. I see that happening with children here and in El Salvador. Art is also a place of joy, because children really enjoy being given attention and doing something with an adult. That’s really what’s most important and enjoyable for them. It validates their experience.”
Working with these children and helping them to discover and develop these skills, Tessie is also able to bring in much of her own perspective as an artist. Her work explores sometimes difficult social and cultural issues and the important role of art in life. “At River Glen, we used to do a project with the fifth graders that was a peace mural, and it started right after 9-11. It involved designing an image that symbolized peace for them.” The children were invited to explore symbols of peace from the past, such as the olive branch and the peace sign, and come up with their own. “It was about creating peace in your classroom and in the playground, and thinking intently about it because it starts there. I tell my students – countries who don’t get along go to war, and if you can be the person that can create harmony, later on, you don’t know who you can become. You can be the President of the United States, and it all starts here in the classroom.”
It’s not all war and peace though, Tessie explains children here and abroad are very much the same and often ask her to teach them to draw a variety of things. “I have found that elementary and middle school students are very interested in nature. Animals and plants provide points of departure for many of our projects. Students learn to draw them, paint them, sculpt them in clay, transform them into mythological creatures, and even use visual language to show their concern regarding endangered species.” As the children grow, they also express interest in drawing figures – especially people in their families and communities.
So, what is next for this local artist? “I have been teaching at The Community School for Music and Art for the last year. Through them, I am still teaching children from underrepresented communities,” Tessie explains. She also currently has a piece titled “Twenty-Five: Chronicle of a Journey” featured in the Honoring Women’s Rights: Echoing Visual Voices Together show at The National Steinbeck Center in Salinas. Many San Jose residents will recognize the piece, which was previously shown in an empty storefront on 4th Street by Phantom Galleries in downtown San Jose.
https://www.tessbscharaga.com/
San Jose native, an award-winning Chilean-American Film Director based in New York, debuted his first solo art exhibition at @empire7studios.
My name is Danilo para. This is my first solo exhibition. It’s being held at Empire Seven galleries, and the show is called in limbo. I’m originally from San Jose. I went to Lincoln High School. I grew up here skateboarding with all the skateboard community, and eventually left to pursue a film career in New York, I dropped out of art school from San Francisco Academy of Art University, and then felt like, what am I going to do now?
So I had a friend that was already living in New York, and he had a job working at VICE doing documentaries. So I flew to New York and started working on documentaries, filming them, eventually executive producing some of them, and just traveled the world doing, you know, pursuing my career and pursuing filmmaking in New York.
New York is really a place where documentaries kind of like more of the film work. I guess I was looking for. I didn’t want to go to L.A.. L.A. felt like to, I don’t know if I was ready for Hollywood Life or reality TV life, because I feel like that’s what’s there. But New York offered kind of more of a run-and-gun style filmmaking that I liked, you know, because I grew up skateboarding, filming skate videos, and doing music videos for my brother and things like that. So it’s, I just liked being in charge of almost all the different aspects of it.
One of my earliest memories in childhood was a painting that my mom and my dad had on our wall in the living room. I always think about that painting because it showed kind of their love story, which obviously created me, created my brother. It’s beautiful to see your parents having creative outlets. And I guess the difference of a parent that’s just trying to raise a child stressfully and not pursuing their creative talents. I’m fortunate, I didn’t really have too much of that. Like, I feel like my mom was, she’s a Latin jazz singer, so she’s always pursuing her her career and what she really wanted to do.
I mean, my parents set me up on a, you know, performing arts schools. So in performing arts, you’re acting a little bit, you’re going, I’m in school plays, but there’s also art schools and art classes and painting, so I think I really just got in on and loving that. Because my mom would put my art on the fridge and put my art, you know, and then I started putting my art on the fridge, and then all over my room. And then I, when I finally had a car, I, you know, I stenciled my whole car. My whole car was graffitied and stenciled on like, I just couldn’t stop.
I don’t even think I knew anything. I just, I just, I had the passion to just constantly create, you know, I was addicted. At first, I thought I was addicted to the spray paint smell, but then I think I just liked making something and then making it for a friend and making my friend happy, you know, or making a skateboard for my friend, for my brother, for my brother’s CDs and my brother’s music.
So, yeah, I think I just it hit me hard. So I just wanted to keep pursuing visual arts, you know, and which kind of fell into visual storytelling, you know. And visual storytelling was more of what I wanted to do with my film career. And so when I finally kind of started taking paintings more seriously, I wanted to communicate visual stories like, what is the kind of world building, and what is the scene and the setting, and then what characters should be in that scene and setting, and what should they be doing, and create stories that kind of mean something deeper to me, which I feel like come from, you know, a filmmaking kind of storytelling brain, you know, because I do music videos, and sometimes you hear, you have a song come to you from an artist, and you have to think, what are the visuals and what’s the story, and how is, how you’re going to keep An audience to watch your whole music video, because some music videos are really boring. So I wanted, I want to tell a beginning, middle and end story that allows you to follow all the way to the end. I want people to make it to the end of the video. So I think I brought that into the paintings and kind of create a story that brings you in and keeps you there for a little bit, and makes you look around the painting and see like, you know what, what you might find, and you know you can have your own conclusions what the story will be, because it’s, it’s a painting. It’s not really there’s no audio. There’s no no one’s guiding you through it. You have to kind of guide yourself through the story.
Every painting is going to have a different contrast with colors. And I really, I’ve gravitated to vibrant colors. I used to film in the Museum of Modern Art, like profiles on some big artists like Joan Miró, and I remember going through one of the galleries, and he had one painting that was just so vibrant, and it stood out amongst all the other paintings, and it caught my attention. So I started to think. You know, sometimes you have to look around the world and the arts that you see and find what you like, you know, and that helps you understand what you want. So when I started taking painting more seriously, I kind of wanted to create these colors and this vibrancy that maybe would even relate to a film piece that I’m working on. What are the color schemes and and also finding ways to simplify the colors. Because I know when colors are everywhere and too much of them, it just starts to look like vomit. But when colors are simplified, they I think you’re able to be brought into the story easier. You know, you’re able to kind of latch on to what the story is about and yeah, simplify what people see.
Every painting is different. I don’t really have I don’t like painters that paint the same style of painting over and over again. I want every single painting to be something new that people would be excited and see the visual variety as something that they want to know what’s the next one going to be like, because that’s how I feel about it. I don’t know what the next one’s going to be like. And I want to be excited about every single one, and not treat these paintings like a factory that’s making what you want to see. I want to surprise you what you didn’t expect to see.
My first paintings were acrylic. They were also spray painting, spray painted, painting stencils. But I started to, well, my wife was somebody that said, “Why don’t you start oil painting?” And she got me a whole set of oil paints for Christmas, and it was one of the best gifts I’ve ever got. So I found really quickly that I love the way oils kind of create almost a simpler shading, you know, like that things smear together and become more smooth, and I feel like you could round out something that feels more three dimensional, with bringing the highlights to the shadows.
I just really liked how oils kind of felt like they came together better, you know. But I think I brought the acrylic kind of colors and vibrancy, because with oil, you have to layer and layer and layer to get that same vibrancy, because once you see the oils dry, it starts to desaturate a bit. So then I have to come back and how could I bring those colors back to maybe similar to what a acrylic, you know, paint would be.
I have a painting in this show. The show’s called “In Limbo,” and then my favorite painting in the show is called “A Limo in Limbo.” It’s a scene where a limo driver is driving all these businessmen in suits, and you could tell that something kind of shady is happening in the car, and you could see that there’s class differences between the people Inside the car and what’s happening outside the car. I painted that painting during the pandemic while living in New York, and a lot of the wealthy people left New York, and so what was left on the street were mostly homeless people looking for dollars in cash, and trashes were on fire. And all types of post-apocalyptic visuals are what I would see when I’d ride my bike around New York during that time because the city was empty. So I was trying to think, you know, what kind of class juxtaposition I could find in one painting and create a perspective where you could see everything happening all at the same time.
Danilo Parra’s first solo painting show, “In Limbo,” is on display from September 7, 2024, through October 5, 2024 at Empire Seven Studios. @danilorparra. 525 N 7th St. Suite 10. San Jose, CA 95112
Interview Transcription Hi. My name is Kija Lucas. I’m an artist working in photography and installation, and my exhibition at the Palo Alto Art Center is The Enchanted Garden.
The Enchanted Garden was the name of my father’s gardening business. He had a gardening business when I was a kid, where my brothers and I would go with him to work on days that we had off from school, or either maybe if we were just a little bit sick but not so sick, we had to stay in bed, and we would go with him to work and weed in other people’s yards. Sometimes help him plant plants and go to the nursery with him, and then otherwise watched him laying sod or trimming trees or whatever he had to do in their yard.
So the exhibition is in several parts. There’s a large, I’ll call it a mural piece in 36 parts on the front windows of the Palo Alto Art Center. It’s about 20 by 13 feet, and it has both botanicals and trees that reminded me of Palo Alto, as well as other people who I asked who grew up here or spent time in Palo Alto.
The inside of the gallery, there’s an alcove that will have wallpaper that I designed with lemons that are both ripe and unripe, and then blossoms. I love the way that citrus is constantly in all different stages of growing in the bay. And then on top of that, will be images of rusty tools hung in ornate frames. The tools sort of are calling into the labor of like what it takes to make a garden.
Between the alcove and the glass gallery will be an altered map of Lawrence Lane, which is the cul-de-sac I grew up in and where my father’s house was. Lawrence Lane was an intentionally integrated street that was conceived in the late 40s and built in the 50s; in the height of redlining, there were black families, Asian families, and white families, and it kind of helped me as a mixed-race kid, to see families of other races and also other black families on our street.
Also, thinking about it, I always thought it was like such an ideal thing, and talking to my brother, who’s studying it for his dissertation, like I’m learning more about the respectability politics that go into creating an intentionally integrated community in that time, and also probably today, it was at the height of redlining. And so when the people who were involved in this, what they called an experiment, were going to the neighbors to ask their permission, and had to go to the city to ask permission to create this cul-de-sac.
And then, going into the glass gallery, there is on the walls the entire gallery, other than the brick, will be wrapped in also wallpaper that I designed, which will be transitioning through the room, kind of like a garden transition as you see different plants growing in different places. It gets a little bit thicker over time; certain plants are added, and others are taken away.
There’s a bit of a compulsion to organize in the way that I feel like humans often have this impulse, especially like this colonial impulse, to like organize nature, whether it be in our garden or whether it is in science books and the way that we study the other than human world.
And then, on top of that wallpaper will be botanicals that remind me of Lawrence Lane or of growing up in Palo Alto: the sour grass that I used to chew as a kid or a pine tree that I used to climb in my neighbor’s yard.
Lemons come up a lot in my work because it reminds me of sitting on my dad’s front porch when he would smoke when I was a kid. He smoked indoors until I was in the second grade and then moved out to the porch. So, if we wanted to spend time with him, it was out there.
I include both Indigenous and misplaced botanicals and trees because I feel like the way that we discuss botanicals is very similar to the way that we discuss groups of people. The idea of invasive and native, and not really thinking of how those botanicals arrived. Why they’re often maligned and so those are all sort of mixed together in the wallpaper, and then also on top of it.
I think The Enchanted Garden is, at the same time, the most personal work I’ve ever made, but also the most impersonal work at the same time; it’s so much digging into my own childhood, my own feelings about growing up in Palo Alto, about being in a place where I never felt like I fit, and being a place that had expectations of me that I didn’t understand existed until long after I could have possibly met them.
I like, that’s one of the other reasons why I was interested in bringing in the like, misplaced botanicals. I felt like, always like, I stuck out like a sore thumb here. I didn’t quite know how to act. I didn’t quite know or have the money to dress in order to fit in, or, like, wear the uniform of, like, the place. I was kind of a weird kid, which, as an artist, I appreciate that, and I feel like it’s fine, but it’s so uncomfortable growing up being like undiagnosed ADHD, like, not understanding why I don’t fit into, like, the academic expectations.
That’s another reason why I wanted to name the show Enchanted Garden; beyond, like, naming it after my dad’s business, I feel like an enchanted space is something that has a spell on it that makes you think it’s one thing. When you’re in it, then you realize maybe that it’s something else. And I felt like that was a really important thing to bring into it, because I feel like that kind of is how I feel about Palo Alto.
I’m trying to learn how to claim having grown up here, but a lot of times when people say, like, Oh, you’re from the Bay Area. Like, where did you grow up? I’ll say the South Peninsula because I feel like when I say Palo Alto, there’s an assumption about growing up in Silicon Valley. There’s an assumption that, like, my family was in tech, or like, you must be super wealthy, and that’s just not the way that I grew up. I grew up like, like I said, with my hands in the dirt, like digging weeds out of other people’s yards.
With my work, I’m bringing in things that are beautiful, like I want them to be, almost stunning to look at. I think of a photograph as a great place to lie, as a place to like, where we put our truths. So I have this sort of, I use a little bit of a scientific visual tropes, like using the black background, having something with so many details in it. I do not, I on purpose, do not use perfect specimens of everything. I want us to think about all of these things as being beautiful and useful.
But one of the things that I want to do with my work is to draw people in, so then we can have the more difficult conversation, like, how do we think about these plants, and how does that translate to how we think about people? How do we treat these botanicals, and how does that translate to how we treat other people? And where does that come from?
Like, the same scientists that were categorizing plants were categorizing people, and this like way of like, I’m reading this book right now where the author talks about how the most plant specimens from around the world are from Europe, where they don’t have the most plant specimens. And so, people who are from nations or lands where these plants are indigenous to might not be able to study them because they’re not there for them to study.
So I feel like, how did these botanicals also talk about migration? How do they talk about the way that people have been interacting with the land over the years? Especially since the bay or the US was colonized; that interaction with botanicals, the bringing of the eucalyptus, but also the olive tree, which is like this symbol of wealth, or the Magnolia, I was learning recently is also a symbol of wealth. They planted magnolia trees here, but they’re like, they take so much water to keep them alive, and but we do it, and it’s like this thing that says, like, okay, cool. I have enough money to keep this beautiful tree, which might be the oldest flower in the world, alive.
So all of those things are sort of in there, but I want to draw people in. I want your grandmother to be able to walk into the exhibition and be like, Okay, I can get something out of it. And your grandma might be, like, super into these political conversations, but maybe not. Maybe she sees something, and then she reads a little something and then thinks about the world a little bit differently. I’m not out here to like, I’m not an activist. I’m not out here to change the world, but I do want to give a space for people to maybe have a different perspective on things.
List of events related to GROW and The Enchanted Garden Exhibitions
Castro Valley native San Jose State Alum Brodie Brazil has turned an early love of storytelling into a 20-year broadcasting career covering the same Bay Area teams he grew up cheering for.
As a lifetime supporter of Bay Area sports, Brodie Brazil admits his role as a host on NBC Sports California is a dream come true. But that doesn’t mean the work can’t be grueling.
During a visit to the NBC Sports California offices in San Francisco, Brazil’s walking through the Sharks Pregame Live run-of-show with cohost Curtis Brown and producers. There’s no A’s coverage today, so there’s no need to choose a new necktie from a container full of options on his desk in the afternoon to transition from A’s chat to Sharks talk. It’s a crossover period, which means Brazil is occasionally covering baseball and hockey on the same day. Just like athletes training in the pre-season, hosts can pull double days.
He jokes that in these periods, the forechecks and fastballs can sort of blur. Yet, as someone once told him, it’s like he’s an accountant and it’s tax season. He tends to prefer a different metaphor. “This is like a bachelor party,” he says. “I’m loving every minute of this, and I’m going as hard as I can, but man, I’m going to be tired at the end.”
It’s not an unfamiliar feeling: Brazil’s first foray into sports broadcasting began nearly 20 years ago, but his passion for storytelling gained steam well before that. During his formative years in Castro Valley, he and his brother Darren fell in love with making custom videos, an endeavor wholly supported by their parents. Brazil was a two-sport athlete as well, playing baseball and basketball up through his time at Castro Valley High School.
If you think I’m good at this job, it’s because I’m just the average person getting to do something pretty cool.
-NBC Sports Host, Brodie Brazil
He seized a chance to merge his two passionswhen he started interning for High School Sports Focus during his final semester of high school. “I would make the drive down I-680 one or two times a week,” he recalls. “I would learn to use the camera, come back, learn how to edit the highlights together, figure out what writing a script was all about. I was the ultimate sponge back then.” That training made him the ideal candidate to shoot and edit games when a position opened with KICU-TV (now KTVU Plus) less than a month into his first semester at San Jose State. The opportunity also led to his first gig covering the Oakland A’s.
Landing a gig with Sports Focus meant he was gaining valuable on-the-job experience just as he was learning the basics of broadcast journalism at San Jose State. It did, however, come with some social downsides. “On Friday nights, while everybody was out having fun,” he notes, “I was on the clock.”
He hadn’t imagined being in front of the camera when he started on his journey. By the time he was studying at San Jose State, though, he’d refined his academic focus, choosing to pursue a role as host. When he returned to Sports Focus in 2001, he had the chance to start working on camera and contributing feature stories. He was promoted to cohost in 2005, a post he held until the program was cancelled at the end of 2007.
Since KICU chose not to retain Brazil at the station, he scrambled to find another gig in the region. Whispers of a pending expansion at NBC Sports had him diligently knocking on their door. “I was doing everything possible to get a job here, and if it didn’t work out, I was very much on the line to probably move out of the market. That was a fear for me,” he admits. During that period of uncertainty, he chose to pursue his dream of becoming a flight instructor (Brazil received his private pilot’s license in 2003). He passed his instructor’s test in 2008, a feat he maintains was one of the toughest things he’s ever done.
Brazil was granted his wish in February 2009, when he returned to broadcasting as a field producer with NBC Sports Bay Area (then CSN Bay Area). He’s remained with the organization ever since. During the 2009-2010 season, he began ringside reporting at Sharks games. The tricky assignment, one where he stood directly behind the bench to gain immediate in-game insights from players, challenged him, but he also grew immensely from the experience. Soon after, he took the reins of Sharks Pregame Live and Postgame Live. Since then, he’s become the host of A’s Pregame Live and Postgame Live, SportsNet Reports, A’s Central, and Sharks Central.
Brazil has won 13 Emmys for his work over the years, though, in retrospect, he admits he put a bit too much focus on that pursuit early in his career. He’s now shifted his priorities to becoming an informed source on social media. “I might have got into this business to share stories on television, but it turns out the way I have the most reach is putting it on the internet,” he says. Nowadays, he’s much more likely to have a fan mention something he posted to Twitter or Instagram than what he said during a broadcast. That shift, however, comes with a constant focus on how to keep Sharks and A’s fans informed and entertained. As he notes, “You have to feed the machine a little bit.”
Forget thinking of broadcasting like a typical nine-to-five. He’s missed weddings, cancelled dinners, and had to let go of plenty of family events over the years for work. Thankfully, his wife, who he met working in the NBC Sports Bay Area studios, understands just what it’s like in his field.
Brazil grabs a rolled-up tie from his plastic bin of options at his desk (he stocks it monthly) 15 minutes before Sharks Pregame goes live and heads into the bathroom to get camera ready. When he returns, he’s suited from the waist up, though outside the frame, he’s still in jeans and walking shoes.
Now a father, he admits that his new family role has helped him look at his career from a new perspective. For one, he values the importance of health benefits much more than he used to. But it’s also helped him see more clearly what issues are worth fighting for and what ones are better letting go. With Sharks playoffs looming, he’s been getting nostalgic on social media. Recent posts on Instagram reveal Brazil as a teen in front of SAP Center donning a Sharks jersey and a shot of his old roller hockey helmet adorned with a Sharks sticker. He admits, still a bit in awe, that he’s been able to call some players friends.
Reflecting on the fact that he’s closing in on two decades in this industry, he poses a hypothetical: 20 more Emmys or 20 more years covering the A’s and Sharks? “A’s and Sharks,” he says with little hesitation. “Longevity is what I aspire to. That, to me, is more valuable than anything else.” Referencing his career so far, he says, “It’s a storybook, and I don’t take it lightly.”
A storyteller at heart, Brazil still relishes the chance to translate and simplify nuances of sport for viewers. The only thing that might take him away would be a dream gig as a commercial pilot—though, he stresses, that would be the ultimate dream scenario for a man quite content with the career he’s built for himself.
“This has all worked out pretty well,” he concludes. “If you think I’m good at this job, it’s because I’m just the average person getting to do something pretty cool.”
Join Imara at Movimiento de Arte y Cultura Latino Americana (MACLA) on Friday, September 6, for the opening of her duo exhibition “Un Puente Sobre El Río San Juan: A Story of Borders,” Featuring work from her and San José-based artist Irene Carvajal—part of South First Fridays ArtWalk SJ.
Imara Osorno is a Nicaraguan-American multidisciplinary artist who paints, draws, and sculpts. She began her artistic studies at San Jose State University, where she delved into various materials, including clay, glassblowing, and metalsmithing.
Since moving to California at a young age, Osorno has returned to her birth country once as a child. Growing up in the US, Imara has faint memories of her time in Nicaragua and an interest in reconnecting with her Nicaraguan cultural roots. Her artwork explores themes of identity, immigration, and memory, often infused with a deep appreciation for mythology and storytelling.
Her upcoming exhibition, “Un Puente Sobre El Río San Juan: A Story of Borders,” explores the complex and often contentious relationship between the neighboring Nicaragua and Costa Rica. A collaborative effort with her former art professor, Irene Carvajal, each uses their cultural origins to untangle the overlooked conflict. Osorno was born in Nicaragua and Irene Carvajal was born in Costa Rica. The show’s title, “un Puente Sobre El Rio San Juan,” or “A Bridge Over the San Juan River,” symbolizes bridging divides between the countries—both literal and metaphorical. It will feature a blend of painting, printmaking, and performance art, offering a multi-dimensional exploration of what bonds, rather than separate, artists born in each country.
In this conversation, we discuss Imara’s artistic evolution, her upcoming exhibition, and the personal experiences that inform her work.
Under the light-strung trees of Mexican Heritage Plaza in East Side San José, the South Bay arts community celebrated the release of Content Magazine issue 16.4, “Profiles”, and 2024 Content Emerging Artists Esther Young and Elba Raquel. The August 22 Pick-Up Party was an event only San Jose could cultivate–a meeting point for diverse cultures, technological optimism, and a collective commitment to the community.
The School of Arts and Culture at Mexican Heritage Plaza hosted a living issue of Content Magazine with nearly all 29 featured creatives in attendance. Starting at 6:30 p.m., guests and featured artists mingled. DJ Hen Boogie kicked off the party with his genre-blending beats. Artists from the issue shared their prints, fashion, writings, and music. Guests could even take home dried sage to plant. The plaza’s indoor gallery was activated with support from Works/San José and exhibited photography, mixed media, and sculptural works directly from the magazines’ pages.
Even the food and drink at the party reflected the South Bay’s creative diversity. Mama Roc’s Kitchen brought a variety of Puerto Rican flavors, and Sushi Roku Palo Alto offered a sampling of their high-quality rolls and sashimi. Goodtime Bar, located at Fountain Alley in Downtown San Jose, also popped up and had a selection of local natural wines for guests to taste.
As the sun set, a crowd gathered to watch a belly dancing performance from House of Inanna. Afterward, The Cultivator of Content Magazine, Daniel Garcia, stepped up to the stage to announce the recipients of Content’s 2024 Emerging Artist Award. Musician Esther Young and painter Elba Raquel accepted their awards, each designed by Local Artist Joe Miller, to camera flash and applause. The Content Emerging Artist Award recognizes early-career artists and provides $5,000 in unrestricted funding to support their creative work. After accepting her award, Young took to the stage, opening her set with an ethereal cover of Adrienne Lenker’s ‘Anything.’
The party provided a space for artists to forge connections and set the foundation for future collaboration. The School of Arts and Culture at Mexican Heritage Plaza is a communal hub for celebration, organization, and art. In that way, the atmosphere reflected Content’s mission–both open and intimate, a true celebration of San Jose’s community and its commitment to the arts.
Join Content Magazine for Pick-Up Party 17.1, “Discover,” on Friday, November 22, at The Santa Clara County Fairground Fiesta Hall. The night is produced in partnership with San Jose-based 1Culture Gallery and will be a showcase for street art and culture in the South Bay.
Exploring the intersection of reflection and light, attraction and repulsion, and the soft and raw power of feminine forms.
Pink is a loaded color for Stephanie Metz, a San Jose–based sculptor whose artwork often grows out of her desire to explore meaning in the everyday things around her. She remembers going to toy stores as a little girl and resenting all the pink, girly toys she saw. She explains, “Pink always seemed like it was derogatory or diminutive—like a way to make something overly cute and helpless. I felt like that was so often paired with ideas of femininity, and I just didn’t like that as a little kid.”
Over the years, though, Stephanie’s relationships with many things—including art, sculpting, femininity, and the color pink—has changed. “I remember I was taking a walk with my dog, and we came across a bougainvillea bush that was so intense,” she says. “I stood up really close to it, and I was so overwhelmed by it. But it also occurred to me that what I was actually experiencing was the light reflecting off of those bright pink flowers.”
This experience inspired Stephanie to experiment with placing bright pink pigment against stark white walls to see if she could elicit any reflections. She then developed a series of hand-stitched felt panel sculptures that play with the concept of bounced light. For each piece, viewers think they’re seeing a bit of pink-tinted felt. What they’re actually seeing is the reflection of hidden fluorescent pink paint off of white felt. “I love the fact that the pieces make you think of the effect. What does it even mean to see that bright pink?” Stephanie muses. Throughout this project, the more that she thought of pink, the more it felt to her like a strong and decisive color that could be reclaimed for its strength.
Another of the color’s strengths comes to Stephanie in a more subliminal form. In various projects, Stephanie plays with the idea of push-and-pull. For instance, she has made sculptures that pair wool felt with porcupine quills. The soft warmth of the felt draws the viewer in, but the danger of the quill spikes pushes them back. She also works with silver metal mesh, which gives her sculptures a snaky effect that’s both threatening and entrancing. “I love dancing in the middle between drawing you in and repulsing you,” Stephanie says. “The color pink has become that for me. The more I play with different tones of really bright pink, the more I love them and the more I am overwhelmed by them.” It was this dance between reflection and light, pushing and pulling, love and overwhelm that Stephanie decided to explore more when she was offered a solo show at the Triton Museum of Art.
Stephanie has been a sculptor most of her life, and her work has been featured all over the world—from touring exhibition across Europe and Australia to the Rijswijk Textile Biennial in the Netherlands, the Institute of Contemporary Arts Singapore, and the San Jose Museum of Quilts and Textiles. In 2020, she had a solo show at the de Saisset Museum at Santa Clara University called Stephanie Metz: InTouch, which featured large, touchable felt sculptures that she’d spent over two years creating. Stephanie’s new show, In the Glow, will run from September 14 through December 29, 2024, at the Triton Museum of Art, a Santa Clara–based contemporary art museum that seeks to enhance critical and creative thinking through art. The exhibit, which took her 14 months to create, will feature a single, gigantic centerpiece and several additional supporting sculptures, all of which play with reflecting color and light.
Stephanie views her artistic practice as an extension of her experiences observing the world and learning from it. When designing for In the Glow, Stephanie wanted to push herself to try things she had never done before. “I really wanted to challenge myself to make a large-scale exploration,” she explains. “To experience a sculpture, you have to move around it with a human body. And the larger the piece, the more you have to be aware of your physical relationship with it.” This was a challenge that Stephanie met head-on: the central piece will be a 16-foot-tall and 20-foot-wide sculpture made of pieces of white industrial felt meticulously stitched together. The sculpture will hang like a multidimensional curtain of writhing, body-like, and serpentine forms. A neon-pink wall will stand about 10 feet behind the curtain and reflect the light of the room onto the white felt. Viewers will have the opportunity to walk around the sculpture, immersing themselves in a pink, glowing space.
Size is not the only boundary Stephanie hopes to push with this piece. Stephanie feels that a lot of her work is already perceived as “feminine,” and she wants to examine the full spectrum of what feminine and female forms can mean. “I’ve been in a female-identified body all my life,” Stephanie explains. “I’ve had children. I’ve had a miscarriage. I’ve had all these life experiences. With the female body, it feels culturally okay to share certain experiences, but other things are hidden away.”
Stark among these experiences for Stephanie was having children and the changes to her body that she did not anticipate. “It would have made me feel a lot more sane to have been warned of some of the more uncomfortable, grotesque, and fascinating parts of what a body goes through,” she reflects. This pushing between the pretty and the grotesque, the attracting and repelling, the familiar and unfamiliar, is part of what Stephanie wants to evoke from this piece. She explains, “I wanted to focus on the strength and the raw power of feminine forms, but also leave space for the idea of soft power—like leading through cooperation and collaboration as opposed to leading with force.”
For a long time, Stephanie didn’t feel comfortable talking about the feminist aspect of her art because of the pushback. Now, though, she’s trying to be more vocal, without being heavy-handed, so she can raise awareness for a range of experiences and realities. Even the monumental size of the central sculpture plays into Stephanie’s relationship with womanhood and speaking out. “I’m really excited to blow these forms up to be huge and really take up space,” she says, “because that’s one of the things that has always been an issue for me as a woman. I’m always aware of everybody else’s space and trying to make sure they have what they need, but sometimes at the expense of myself.” Stephanie continues to play with the idea of femininity with the smaller freestanding sculptures and wall pieces also included in the exhibit. “Some of the pieces are playing with these organic and intriguing forms. They’re almost menacing because they look kind of familiar but are also mysterious,” she says.
Playing into this element of mystery is the fact that Stephanie is not positive what her pieces will look like in their final form—particularly the show’s centerpiece, since a lot of science and engineering go into making a free-hanging sculpture. “In the Glow is very experimental for me, which is exciting,” Stephanie says. “I keep repeating to myself that I am making something that has never existed before. No one can tell me if it is right or wrong. This project is going to be what it is. And that’s really freeing.” The opening reception for In the Glow will take place on September 28 from 2pm to 4pm at the Triton Museum of Art in Santa Clara.
Much like releasing the need to control the final physical form of her sculptures, Stephanie has also embraced the idea that different people will have different responses to her art. She says, “People can be uncomfortable with abstract forms because they want to know what something is supposed to be. You can have whatever reaction to these pieces you want. There is no right or wrong in what you see or how you respond to it. I hope people will find what resonates with them.” To Stephanie, art comes back to this very concept—that it is all about making connections and finding meaning in one’s own life. She concludes, “The highest sort of thing art can do is make me feel connected to other people or ideas. I love finding kindred spirits through my art. It makes me feel like maybe I’m not so alone in the world.”
Santa Clara, 8/26/24– The Triton Museum of Art presents Stephanie Metz: In the Glow, an exhibition debuting a series of evocative fiber sculptures. Wool felt and body-like forms combined with reflected color explore themes of soft power, aesthetic perception, and the paradoxes of female life.
The free-standing and wall-mounted sculptures and immersive installation transcend stereotypical notions of textile art as decorative and domestic. Metz uses a nuanced abstract visual language to allude to the contradictions of a woman’s experiences— vulnerability and resilience, internal and external perceptions, and working within and against gender biases and expectations. The felt material used to make the sculptures reflect these contradictions, embodying both the tender and the tough by being supple yet durable.
Sculpted from wool fibers compressed into freestanding dense shapes or sutured from pieces of thick, smooth industrial felt, Metz’s visceral organic forms incorporate carefully placed pink pigment. Pink, a color loaded with cultural and symbolic significance, highlights both conformity and resistance to gender binaries. Optical interactions between the white sculptures and reflected pink light reveal lines and contours and draw attention to the very act of seeing color.
A monumental stitched industrial felt sculpture at the center of the gallery invites visitors to immerse themselves ‘inside the glow’ created between the 16- by- 20- foot ‘curtain’ of undulating abstracted figurative forms and a wall of fluorescent pink paint. Stephanie Metz: In the Glow expands conventional definitions of the feminine and explores how edgy softness can hold space, command presence, and provoke thought.
The exhibition will be on view from September 14 to December 29, with an opening reception on Saturday, September 28 from 2 – 4pm.
The Preservation Action Council of San Jose (PAC*SJ) is a dedicated historic preservation advocacy organization committed to celebrating the vibrancy of San Jose’s architectural and cultural heritage. As a member-based group, PAC*SJ works to ensure that historic buildings and sites are recognized for their significance and potential. Their mission is to highlight the value of preserving these structures, not just for their historical importance but for their role in enhancing the city’s character. By advocating for thoughtful preservation and adaptive reuse, PAC*SJ aims to integrate the past into the future of San Jose.
Ben Leech’s career in historic preservation stems from a long-held interest in history and architecture. With over 12 years of experience in historic preservation and architectural history, he has made significant contributions through advocacy, historical documentation, and preservation. A Reed College graduate with a Master’s from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Ben has authored numerous historical reports and led preservation efforts in Philadelphia, PA, before moving to Silicon Valley, where he now works and resides.
Join us on Thursday, August 22, for Pick-Up Party 16.4, “Profiles,” at The School of Arts and Culture at Mexican Heritage Plaza. This magazine in-real-life experience celebrates the creatives featured in the issue and 2024 Content Emerging Artists Elba Raquel and Esther Young.
Featuring Performances from Hen Boogie, Ripplings, House of Inanna Belly Dance, and Esther Young, food from Mama Roc’s Kitchen, a gallery exhibition showcasing work from SJSU Photo 125, Elba Raquel, Stephanie Metz, Theo Mendoza, and Alyssa Wigant.
Issue 16.4, “Profiles,” captures a cross-section of Santa Clara County’s diverse creative culture. Once the magazine was sent to print and the team received the first proof, we recognized a thread of community connecting each article. Whether the many stages of Hen Boogie’s artistic career, the inspiration behind JUBO clothing, or the concept behind Theo Mendoza’s brand, community is at the forefront of what inspires the work that these creatives bring forth to the world.
In this conversation, Daniel Garcia and David Valdespino Jr., the Cultivator and Developer of Content Magazine, trace back to the creation of this issue through Pick-up Party 16.4 at the School of Arts and Culture at Mexican Heritage Plaza. They spend time laying out who will be featured at the event, sharing some of their favorite stories and insights on select articles, and giving a behind-the-scenes look at what goes into the production of this print publication.
Thank you to our wonderful contributors. This magazine is only possible with your words, photos, and keen editing eye.
Thank you to our event partners: the School of Arts and Culture, Sushi Roku Palo Alto, Goodtime Bar, Filco Events, Works/San José, and Heritage Bank of Commerce.
Hip-Hop artist/DJ – ‘Hen Boogie’ Henry Alexander III | Interdisciplinary artist and Poet – Rosanna Alvarez | Liminal Space Collective – Weston Mossman, Wendy Frances, Taylor Royan | Graphic Designer – Stay Brown – Theodore Mendoza | Mexican Heritage Plaza Expansion | Middlebrook Center: California Native Garden Foundation – Alrie Middlebrook | Sculptor – Stephanie Metz | Jubo Clothing – Jason Nemedez, Averill, & Brian Nemedez | House of Inanna ATS Belly Dance Classes – Petra Pino | Painter and 2024 Content Emerging Artist – Elba Raquel Martinez | Math Rock Band – Ripplings – Anna Macan, Sean Bautista, and Jeremiah Ruperto | San Jose State University Photo 125 – Aahliya Mcelroy, Eric Luu, Jesus Sanchez, Josefina Valenzuela, Regina Joseph, & Stevie Salcido | Hair Stylist – Skittzz | Muralist – Alyssa W. | Singer/songwriter and 2024 Content Emerging Artist – Esther Young
Join Tommy and Universal Grammar at SJZ Break Room on August 21, 2024, at The Changing Same, featuring live performances by Madison McFerrin and Milan Ring, backed up by Universal Grammar Djs Chalé Brown and Zuri Alexa. All ages. Doors at 7p. Showtime at 8p.
Tommy Aguilar founded Universal Grammar as a collective of like-minded individuals interested in producing events that could shape culture through music, art, and community curating. Tommy prefers the title of ‘producer’ rather than ‘music promoter’ to describe his work. He treats event production as an art form. He shares, “Everything that Universal Grammar has done since day one has been very intentional. It was born out of what I saw in San Jose and not seeing a space for myself.” Since its founding in 2001, Universal Grammar has brought acts such as Kaytranada (Live At The Pagoda), The Internet (Jazz Beyond), Aloe Blacc (The Changing Same), Hiatus Kaiyote (Live At The Pagoda), Flying Lotus (The Changing Same), Thundercat (Jazz Beyond), Little Dragon (Live At The Pagoda), Questlove of The Roots (Universal Grammar presents), and Jazzy Jeff (Universal Grammar presents) all in support of its mission to present quality artistry and emerging contemporary voices to the South Bay.
In this conversation, Tommy Aguilar discusses the very early days of his interest in music and event production, the nuanced arena of producing music events in the South Bay, what events he has coming up, and the future of Universal Grammar.
At the center of Needle to the Groove Records lie four friends whose bonds have been strengthened in the pursuit of amplifying art. “Don’t put any of our jokes on the record,” cautions Allen Johnson.
“Unless they land,” chimes David Ma. The witty banter among Johnson, Ma, Michael Boado, and Jeff Brummett reveals the camaraderie on which the Needle to the Groove (NTTG) label has been built.
“That’s what our vision was from the jump: Let’s find [music] we like. Let’s get it out there. Let’s not be too stressed on [asking] ‘Did it sell out?’ ” explains Johnson. Their business dealings remain casual, as they’re far more likely to talk shop over a bottle of Jameson than to call for a formal meeting. Grounded in a shared desire to not let the business of records ruin their friendships, they’ve developed a broad musical catalog that stands as a testament to the great musical diversity found throughout the Bay Area.
“You can’t pigeonhole us, that’s for sure,” explains Boado, “and we want to keep that going.”
Collectively, the label partners carry deep connections in numerous music scenes. Johnson and Boado run NTTG’s downtown San Jose record shop (Dan Bernal, owner of NTTG’s Fremont location, is a silent label partner). Boado, a fixture in the local club scene known as DJ Basura, is a partner at The Ritz in downtown San Jose. Ma is a renowned music journalist who recently began teaching a hip-hop history course at San Jose State University. Brummett has been a musical mainstay, contributing to numerous local bands over the years.
“It’s a crazy feeling when someone that I don’t recognize walks in and asks for something specifically on the label. I’m just blown away.”
Allen Johnson
Soon after opening NTTG’s downtown San Jose location, Johnson and Boado wanted to branch out. “There was an appeal to do something that had a higher ceiling and could correspond with the shop,” recalls Johnson. In the early 2000s, he ran Birthwrite Records out of his apartment while living in Chicago, and he remembers the struggle of selling releases without a true place of business. After reading about the history of Stax Records, which started when the now legendary label opened a recording studio in the back of a record shop, he saw how their storefront could double as label headquarters, offering visibility for their efforts.
Since 2016, NTTG has released nearly 40 titles of varying formats and styles. There are the overlooked gems: cassette-only releases like Kiri’s ambient Practice Bird Heads and the Apatheater EP, a collaboration between DJ Platurn and rapper Edgewize. There’s the unexpected home run: Prince Paul and Don Newkirk’s By Every Means Necessary, Vol. 1, the soundtrack to a Netflix documentary on Malcolm X. There’s the rising creative voices of Modesto Latin rockers Valley Wolf, and Bay Area-based beatmakers Mild Monk and mint.beats. Diamond Ortiz, the most-released artist on the label, is a g-funk diehard and master of the talk box.
“Our eclectic tastes are represented in the artists [we support],” notes Brummett. “I think we’re kind of celebrating our differences.” The imprint’s musical variance has become their hallmark. Ma states their hope is for the label to be trusted by listeners, no matter the release. “Hopefully [the label logo] becomes like a seal of excellence,” he says.
“I think we want to be there for the deviations,” adds Brummett, highlighting how much the label believes in letting artists be themselves. “Strange Things” by producer and songwriter B. Lewis is arguably the most mellow track in his discography, while “Jaan e Jaan” by Aki Kumar adds a dash of dusty Bollywood funk to Kumar’s otherwise blues-centric persona.
While all four stress that the label is a labor of love, they also view their work as a distinct privilege that lets them shed light on the efforts of unsung creators. It’s a point that hits home for Brummett, since numerous friends and fellow musicians have found an outlet in NTTG and its offshoot label, Slow Thrive, which releases projects from DIY bedroom artists and under-the-radar bands.
“Those are the guys that mean the most to me because they obviously care. If you are not getting any attention or money, and you’ve been doing it for 15 years, this must mean a lot to you,” he shares. “We get to curate that to the world.”
Next year, the label plans to roll out Valley Wolf’s long-awaited full-length debut, which features sessions produced by Chicano Batman’s Eduardo Arenas. It will also be time for Johnson to step back into the limelight as a creator. He’s set to release Starduster, an EP from legendary rapper Casual, featuring beats from Johnson under his alias, Albert Jenkins.
The label may still have plenty of work on the horizon, but that doesn’t prevent Johnson from stepping back and feeling a great sense of pride every time they sell one of their titles at the shop. “It’s a crazy feeling when someone who I don’t recognize walks in and asks for something specifically on the label,” he shares. “I’m just blown away.”
If you are lucky enough to connect with mixed-media artist Maddy McBirney, she may be inspired to create an art piece for you. McBirney explains, “I was always the kind of artist that just made things for other people. I didn’t sell or market my work. If I visited someone abroad and connected with them, I would make them a painting and ship it to them. Same with family. I do things like that. It’s kind of an emotional, inspirational way to work.”
Born and raised in Los Angeles, McBirney became interested in printmaking during high school and later studied graphic design at the University of California, Davis. Inspired by teachers she encountered throughout school, McBirney pursued teaching for a short time before professionally practicing graphic design and settling in Los Altos to raise her family. During that time, her passion for art never faltered, and much like with her personal art, she became inspired to bring art to the community with which she felt a deep connection.
As a long-time resident of Los Altos, McBirney has been a persistent arts advocate for the city, volunteering as an arts educator with the Los Altos Art Docents, collaborating on grants to secure specialized arts education in elementary schools, and serving on the art commission for seven years. During her tenure, she facilitated the implementation of artistic bicycle racks downtown despite falling short on percent-for-art initiatives and systemic funding for public art. While progress within city government was slow going, her time in the arts commission connected her to the community and local business and taught her much about public art. She explains, “I started attending public art conventions in cities like Chicago and Nashville, and it was enlightening to see people creating spaces and public art and placemaking.”
“I started attending public art conventions in cities like Chicago and Nashville, and it was enlightening to see people creating spaces and public art and placemaking.” -Maddy McBirney
After resigning from the art commission, feeling like she could only achieve her goals related to public art with legislation, McBirney was determined to spend more time in the studio.
However, it took only a short time before friends and members of a newly formed downtown coalition encouraged her to attend meetings, citing her enthusiasm for public art. In her first meeting, members inquired about what it would take to bring art downtown. McBirney forged ahead, working with that coalition to devise a plan to use private property and private funding to facilitate public art installations. She recalls, “I asked my friend, Karen Zucker, who was on the commission and now codirects with me, if she would be interested in starting a nonprofit to create public art and placemaking on private property with private funding. It was inspiring because there was interest, and it was something we were asked to do. It wasn’t like we were looking for these projects ourselves.”
The tree-lined village of Los Altos has served as a residential community in the heart of Silicon Valley since its incorporation in 1952. While Los Altos may not be the first city that comes to mind when considering a destination for arts and culture, there has long been an undercurrent of art appreciation exemplified by institutions such as the Los Altos Art Docents, Gallery 9, and the city’s Art Without Walls, a sculpture loan program. Volunteer-led Arts Los Altos, co-directed by McBirney and Zucker, was formed in 2020 to elevate the cultural identity of Los Altos to the front of mind. The arts nonprofit is working to implement public art that creates connections among diverse community members and local businesses while creating space and drawing visitors.
In the three years since Arts Los Altos was founded, the organization has facilitated over 12 public art projects, including the California Birds, Stewards of the Environment mural by Roan Victor on the Comerica Bank on 3rd Street and the HYBYCOZO Mandahlia sculpture located on the corner of State and 3rd Streets. Arts Los Altos hosts public art walking tours on the first Friday of every month, meeting at the Mandahlia sculpture and leaving at 5pm sharp. When asked what the future holds for Arts Los Altos, McBirney immediately discusses plans to transform a small private plaza and recalls a separate augmented reality project. McBirney hopes to balance volunteering and spending time creating her own art by keeping public art projects to a manageable one to two per year. She recently held her first solo art exhibition at the Los Altos Library, and when asked how her work with Arts Los Altos has impacted her artwork, she shares, “It’s not changed my work, but it’s made me realize that I want to do more of it. I work with other artists, and seeing their work inspires me to create my own.”
Images: 1 – (L to R) Maddy McBirney and Karen Zucker 2 – 200 Main Street [An Inventory of Time and Place] by Martha Sakellariou 3 – Apricot Blossoms by Roan Victor 4 – Main Street Movie Theater Remembered by Emily Fromm
Each year since 2018, the City of San José’s Office of Cultural Affairs has selected a number of artists in a variety of disciplines to be named creative ambassadors. These artists all have deep roots in the city and have shown creative inspiration in their fields, as well as a passion for connecting with the local community through their art.
The role of the creative ambassadors is “to champion the power of creative expression and engage members of the public in finding their creative voice.” They serve for one year and are given the opportunity to create public projects whose aim is to bring together members of the community as active participants in art. They also serve as a voice of the city’s cultural vibrance by engaging on social media and participating in person in a variety of city events through media interviews and elsewhere.
We are please to announce the City of San Jose 2025 Creative Ambassador Applications are now open. More information and application at: https://bit.ly/SJCreatives2025app
2024 Ambassadors
Alice Hur
Dancer Alice Hur is the creator of the grassroots event series Waack, Crackle, Lock!, which takes place in Oakland and San Jose and features waacking, a dance style that evolved from punking and incorporates dramatic poses, storytelling, and rapid arm movements synchronized to disco beats. Highly active in the street dance community, Hur has participated in battles throughout North America.
“Dance should be for everyone. Creating partnerships and highlighting waacking through these channels can help broaden the audience for this art form.” -Alice Hur
Pantea Karimi
Iranian-American multidisciplinary artist Pantea Karimi’s work explores the history of medicinal botany and geometry using virtual reality, performative video, animation, sound, print, drawing, and installation. Her works have been exhibited internationally, and she has received numerous awards and residencies throughout her career.
“Empathy is crucial in understanding different viewpoints and building strong relationships within the community.” -Pantea Karimi
Deborah Kennedy
Deborah Kennedy is an artist and author who communicates complex social and environmental themes with her intricately crafted, conceptually based installations, books, and performances. She brings visual drama and compelling experiences to viewers in galleries, museums, and public spaces.
“Art is a way for us to process and advance our emotions and understanding of ourselves and our increasingly complex and challenging times. Our community can use all the poetry and art we can make available!” -Deborah Kennedy
Rayos Magos
Mixed-media artist Rayos Magos uses symbolism in his work as a way of exploring the personal, spiritual, and communal elements of the human experience, tackling topics of mental health, social justice, and self-representation through collage, printmaking, painting, sculpture, and storytelling.
“I believe that in those moments of cultural exchange, art becomes a powerful vehicle for connection and communication. I feel that art acts as a bridge to connect us with each other, especially when we don’t speak the same language.” -Rayos Magos
Yosimar Reyes
Yosimar Reyes is an acclaimed poet, public speaker, and independent artist whose work looks at themes of migration and sexuality while celebrating and honoring elders and attempting to further intergenerational connections within our communities.
“I [hope] to align my vision for a world where immigrant labor, immigrant voices, immigrant lives, and immigrant contributions are recognized as integral parts of the city.” -Yosimar Reyes
*The article originally appeared in issue 5.1, “Sight and Sound,” 2013
From his 90s exploits at Ajax to the more recent Naglee Park Garage, Chris Esparza’s impact on downtown San Jose has come in many phases. He looks to take his next step with Blackbird Tavern.
Long-time downtown ambassador Chris Esparza remains one of the most connected people in San Jose. He’s built his Rolodex organically after having a hand in several local ventures past and present, among them Ajax, Naglee Park Garage, Giant Creative, Fuel, and soon-to-open Blackbird Tavern.
Though a local, Esparza was never able to call one particular neighborhood home growing up. Attending five different schools over seven years, including a two-year stint up in Auburn, California, the frequent moves never allowed him to settle in. “It was five years of never knowing where my class was, of being new and uncomfortable,” Esparza recalls. “In a lot of ways, that probably led me to producing events and hosting people.”
After graduating from Gunderson High in 1985, Esparza spent time at both West Valley and De Anza College, though he admits he had no direction at the time. A year later, he got a job working at Santa Clara club One Step Beyond. It proved to be the job that changed his life.
“It was my first exposure to the young twenty- and thirtysomething alternative life—the goths, the skinheads, the mods, the punk rockers, the death rockers, and everything in between,” he remembers. He saw the club present everything from metal to English soul and rockabilly, witnessing sets from The Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Ramones, Megadeth, and Fishbone. The work inspired him to move to San Francisco, where he worked for two years.
However, when his mother passed away, he felt a need to get away. “I took the opportunity to be somewhere else at Christmas time,” he says. Buying a one-way ticket to Europe, he traveled through Spain, Belgium, and Scotland, picking up work wherever he could. Upon his return, he decided he wanted his own club.
In 1991, Esparza and business partner Chris Elliman opened Ajax. During its mythical four-year run, the venue hosted the likes of The Fugees, The Roots, and Ben Harper, establishing itself as a destination for forward-thinking cool. It attracted all pockets of the downtown scene during San Jose’s “Four Corners,” 90s nightlife heyday. Esparza admits he was the social creature of the group. “In a way, I was a natural doorman,” he says. “I liked greeting people, getting them excited about what we were doing, and telling them when to come back.”
Looking back, Esparza sees his Ajax period as a time when he and Elliman could seemingly do no wrong. Arriving at a time when the area was just starting to become Silicon Valley, the low cost of living fostered plenty of nightlife. Ajax was championed by local creatives. “I think they trusted us to curate night after night,” he says. “We said, ‘Look, I know you’ve never heard of Ben Harper, and no one else has either, but we heard this guy’s cassette tape, and I’m telling you, don’t miss this.’ And they would show up.”
Sadly, the club’s four-year run came to a close after negotiations with the space’s owners fell through. Esparza was effectively locked out, with the space maintained by the owners. In nine months, the space was vacant.
Two years after the demise of Ajax, Esparza and a similar cast of partners returned with Fuel, an international café in the current Blank Club space. It showcased a similar vibe, though it wasn’t exclusively a club. “It was for an adult that wanted a beautiful space that wasn’t as easily defined as a café or nightclub or restaurant,” Esparza says. “It was literally all of those things.” Boasting a painted globe on the ceiling, it was conceived from the ground up and seemed primed to tap into the same crowd that made Ajax such a success. Yet, where Ajax could do no wrong, Fuel’s four-year run was mired in constant, needless self-reflection. The message was the same, but somehow, the crowds had dried up.
After coming back to the fold with much more business savvy than he had at Ajax, Esparza struggled to understand why Fuel was failing. “It was a business learning experience,” he says. “You can be good, and you can be the smartest guy on the block, but if you don’t have a little bit of luck and timing on your side, it doesn’t matter who you are.”
“YOU CAN BE GOOD AND YOU CAN BE THE SMARTEST GUY ON THE BLOCK, BUT IF YOU DON’T HAVE A LITTLE BIT OF LUCK AND TIMING ON YOUR SIDE, IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO YOU ARE.”
-Chirs Esparza
In retrospect, Esparza ties in the trouble with the economy. In conjunction with the tech boom, rent skyrocketed, stealing spending money from the venue’s target audience of local creatives. At the same time, the steady rise of illegal downloading significantly changed how artists toured. Suddenly, a $300 show became a $3,000 show, and Fuel couldn’t keep up with the discrepancies. It closed its doors in 2001, an unsung gem that was never able to find its niche like Ajax so easily had.
During his days at Fuel, Esparza began to be approached by organizations to serve as a creative consultant, leading to the creation of Giant Creative. Going twelve years strong, Giant is now responsible for KraftBrew, Winter Wonderland, and the Great Glass Pumpkin Patch in Palo Alto. The outlet became a necessity when Fuel was struggling. It’s since become his main gig, allowing him to help anyone from small businesses to the city of San Jose.
In the restaurant realm, Naglee Park Garage has been Esparza’s latest success. He lovingly calls the 30-seat bistro “the tiniest restaurant on the face of the Earth.” Despite its limitations, he, business partner Brendan Rawson, and head chef Louis Silva have made it a signature downtown eatery.
After the space, a former service station, suffered a series of failed business ventures, its owners decided to wait until the right offer came around. They were envisioning an Americana-themed restaurant with a great selection of beer and wine. As luck would have it, that was exactly what Esparza, Rawson, and Silva were looking to pitch. Luck returned years later when Guy Fieri’s Food Network show “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives” called. Their segment led to national exposure, and repeat showings now result in a spike of emails requesting the location’s fabled ketchup recipe.
Still, Esparza sometimes has trouble making sense of their subsequent success. The show didn’t change their formula; it only got the word out. As he maintains, “We were great before ‘Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.’ Why does it take national television to tell you to go eat there when you live in this town, and there aren’t many choices?”
Yet even with his string of successes, his best conception may have yet to officially begin. Esparza and Rawson are ready to bring their savvy to downtown’s epicenter with Blackbird Tavern, a restaurant and café located along Paseo de San Antonio that looks to appeal to out-of-town business folk and locals alike. Much like Ajax and Fuel, he wants the venue to offer great food, music, and conversation for patrons.
Patio seating is set to spill out onto the Paseo. Plans are in place to serve wine from vineyards in the Santa Cruz mountains, and their bar will offer a well-curated selection of craft brews and California spirits. Esparza even hopes to pair food with music. For him, the value in the idea goes both ways—patrons get an all-encompassing dining experience and those behind the scenes remain on their creative toes.
Some speak of the Blackbird space as cursed, the speculation stemming from a string of franchise failures over the past decade. To counter the talk, Esparza offers a history lesson, noting that a taqueria lasted in the space for twenty years, making it through massive downtown light rail development before those three failed. He attributes the failures to bad business strategies. “I know why they closed and I know what they did wrong,” he says. “I won’t make those mistakes.”
A lot has changed since his first days working at One Step Beyond in the mid-80s, when he discovered a wealth of alternative culture. He’s learned plenty in the process, but what rings loudest for him remains the people he’s helped bring together. As a teen who constantly struggled to find his place, Esparza finds comfort in the fact that he’s been able to create spaces where others can find theirs.
The article originally appeared in issue 5.1, “Sight and Sound,” 2013
*We post this with a heavy heart at the passing of my friend, mentor, and fellow progenitor of culture, Chris Esparza. Content Magazine and I personally have received so much from the friendships and connections that Chris created. I will miss him. We will miss him. But the world, and especially Downtown San Jose, is better because of his life and work. We respect and thank him, say goodbye, and rest in peace, my dear friend.
Experience J.Duh’s first solo gallery exhibition, ‘Starting Fires,’ from August 10 to September 7 at Empire Seven Studios in San Jose, Japan Town. The opening reception is on Saturday, August 10, from 6 to 9 p.m., featuring music from Flipside Lovers and DJ nic0tine.
Navigating Art and Advertising: A Conversation with Jorge ‘J.DUH’ Camacho.
J.Duh’s journey through art and advertising is a tale of creative evolution. Having made significant strides in both fields, he reflects on his experiences as a student of the Academy at GS&P in San Francisco. This program, created by the renowned advertising agency Goodby Silverstein & Partners, helped shape his artistic and professional outlook. J.Duh recounts how he discovered the program through his connections in art and the application process, which included answering thought-provoking questions such as explaining social media platforms to grandparents.
This experience was about learning the technical aspects of advertising and refining his storytelling and design skills. J.Duh credits the program with sharpening his ability to think critically about his work and enhancing his problem-solving skills, which he has carried into his art practice. He discusses the challenges of balancing creative vision with commercial demands and the blurred lines between fine art and commercial art, emphasizing the importance of maintaining creative freedom while navigating the commercial aspects of his work.
J.Duh’s approach to art creation emphasizes the value of following initial ideas and the importance of technique and craftsmanship. The influences behind his work stem from an interest in DIY South Bay street culture that involves skateboarding, punk rock shows, and graffiti, which inspired interest in lettering, sign painting, murals, and brand design. J.Duh’s recent projects have included jersey designs for the Sharks Foundation and numerous murals and signs throughout the region.
When thinking back on his Journey, J.Duh touches upon the emotional and practical aspects of their creative endeavors, including the challenges and rewards of pursuing an art career. He highlights the significance of networking and relationship-building within the art community, which can be crucial for career advancement and personal growth. J. Duh describes South Bay as vibrant and community-driven, slept-on, but with massive potential for growth that requires support for local artists and the fostering of a dynamic creative environment.
J.Duh talks about the commercial projects that have offered artistic opportunities and how personal projects, such as his solo exhibition “Starting Fires,” allow for deeper creative exploration. The exhibition, featuring interactive matchbook artworks inspired by fictitious businesses and musicians, exemplifies how art can engage audiences in multifaceted ways.
In this conversation, J.Duh shares the inspiration for his upcoming solo exhibition ‘Starting Fires,’ his views on the intersection of art and advertising, and how those two worlds have come in contact throughout his career to shape his views of the broader creative landscape of the South Bay.
Follow Jorge ‘J.Duh’ Camacho on Instagram @j.duh and visit their website at jduhdesigns.com.
Growing up in the quintessentially suburban Almaden Valley of San Jose, professional skateboarder and artist Jason Adams was always drawn to the raw vitality of punk rock and its striking aesthetic, or really anything that stood in opposition to the smothering suburban splendor. Around the age of 13, Adams was introduced to the subversion of skateboarding, something that would soon become one of his life’s great loves—so much so that by age 16, Adams was, for all intents and purposes, a professional skater, with sponsors from the likes of Ventura, Santa Cruz, and more. Now at age 45 and basically retired, Adams is considered one of the most influential skateboarders of all time for his raw power, speed, and creative eye in conquering seemingly any obstacle. These characteristics also define his art, which consists mostly of layered stencil portraits of musicians and other cultural figures. Adams first got into skating as an outlet that transformed into a career and then into art, which transformed the same way. For the future, Adams just hopes to find another outlet—provided it doesn’t replace art as his career.
“As much as I would try, I was never good at traditional art. Drawing, painting, sculpting…I never showed a knack for it, and it was frustrating because I loved art. It wasn’t until my late twenties when I had a young daughter and was stuck at home with a leg injury, that I started messing around with making stuff, xeroxing, and stenciling little things. I didn’t consider it art; it was just stuff I was making. Then I found this book of stencil art that showed all this work, and it blew my mind. It opened the possibilities of what can be art and really ignited my artistic purpose.”
In rap music, as it is in real estate, location is everything. As an emcee, the municipality you represent can mean instant credibility and a springboard to success—or it can hang as a detriment to your progress. Cities like Oakland, Atlanta, Detroit, and New York all have cultural capital that allows denizens from those locales to be understood more readily by a national hip-hop audience. It should come as a surprise to no one that San Jose is not very present in America’s hip-hop landscape. This is not to say America’s 10th largest city doesn’t have talent; acclaimed producers Traxamillion and Peanut Butter Wolf both hail from the 408.
West San Jose product Ziggy is keenly aware of the fact that San Jose is a relatively unknown quantity in the hip-hop world. “We don’t have a face,” says the 27-year-old rapper. Ziggy also understands the unique burden of trying to put your city on the map. Over the past few years, Ziggy has established himself in the greater Bay Area music scene by working extensively with San Jose producer and hyphy music pioneer Traxamillion, penning the hook for Philthy Rich and SOB x RBE’s “Right Now,” and working with one of Kendrick Lamar’s favorite rappers, Mozzy.
On his latest album, KHAKIS, Ziggy connects with producer Krikit Boi for eight tracks of weed-infused aspirational braggadocio that would not be unfamiliar to fans of Drake or Big Sean. But unlike the aforementioned urban radio deities, Ziggy manages to craft party-ready ear candy that is not awash in clichés. In the lead single off KHAKIS, “Outcome,” Ziggy boasts: “still in the building / you still in ya feelings? / Zig never had to find it / Zig had it in ’em.”
This palpable hunger for bigger and better things, a hallmark of a young rapper on the make, is present not only in Ziggy’s songs but in the way he carries himself. His raspy, cigarette-charred voice machine guns parts of speech as if a hot verse will leap out of him mid-sentence. He says this hunger is part and parcel of being an artist from San Jose. “Being from San Jose kept me hungry. Being a San Jose artist, you already know you are fighting for something else.
You’re not from Oakland and San Francisco; you’re not from these places that have an established type of sound. When I fight, I am fighting for everybody. Being a San Jose artist, you always have that on your back.”
“I was listening to a lot of Pac. Also, my grandmother used to play a lot of oldies—Stevie Wonder, the O’Jays, and stuff like that,” Ziggy says, explaining the influences that made him want to start rapping at age 11. “But then, on top of that, it was a lot of C-Bo, RBL Posse, and just real Bay stuff. And then when I started to think of myself as a rapper, I did my own research, and that’s when I found out about rappers like Nas and DMX.”
“I’m not just trying to make something that sounds hot right now. When I make an album, I am trying to make something that will sound good 5 to 10 years later.” –Ziggy
Listening to KHAKIS, you can tell that Ziggy has been paying attention to the mechanics of what makes a hit rap record. So much so that his penchant for writing radio-friendly choruses has made him a sought-after “hook guy” in Northern California rap circles. When asked about being a specialist of this sort, he hilariously demures, “My mom called me a ‘hooker’ because I was just doing hooks for other people. I can rap, too. I’m not out here trying to be T-Pain or anything like that.”
When asked about how he wants people to respond to his music, Ziggy remarks that he wants the listener to empathize with his struggle and his joy. “I just want people to feel my struggle,” he proclaims, adding, “to have people feel what I was feeling when I made the music. I consider myself a storyteller. I want people to learn something from the stories that I’m telling. I also want it to slap too. I want people to have a good time to my music. I want people to be excited to tell other people about my music.”
Upcoming is Ziggy’s five-year plan, which includes establishing himself as a brand and potentially moving to LA to be in closer proximity to the music industry. Ultimately, however, the primary goal is for him to create timeless music. “I’m not just trying to make something that sounds hot right now. When I make an album, I am trying to make something that will sound good 5 to 10 years later.”
West Valley College believes in the power of a well-rounded education to shape a future that extends beyond the classroom. Each year, graduating students have the opportunity to showcase their capstone work—a testament to their growth and achievements—to peers, instructors, and the community. In the third year of the Cilker School of Art and Design’s EXPO, they have expanded the event’s reach to celebrate the dynamic relationship between art and design and science and math. The inaugural three-day STEAMD (Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, Math, & Design) Fest will create a platform that ignites interdisciplinary collaboration between students and faculty, reinforcing the essential symbiotic relationships between disciplines.
We also feature three notable students from the various disciplines of the Cilker School of Art and Design as they move forward in their craft and careers.
Joel Hangai Music Education
More than just being a student who is passionate about music, Joel Hangai is dedicated to helping others. Growing up, Hangai learned any instrument he could get his hands on. He put in many hours of work every day to become a more knowledgeable and capable instrumentalist. When he was unsure of where to go with his talents, West Valley College asked him to become a peer tutor for music majors. He fell in love with sharing his passion with others. Hangai has since delved into music education, teaching all types of students across the Bay Area. He hopes to one day become a music professor. No matter what, he will always find a way to keep music a part of his life.
Shraddha Karalkar was raised in India’s colorful and creative environment, a country of rich culture, wellness, and spiritual wisdom that shaped her views on critical thinking and aesthetics. Immigrating to the United States after earning multiple degrees in pharmaceutical science was challenging. In the fall of 2021, she enrolled at West Valley College. She was drawn to the thoughtful design of creative spaces after noticing how design elements could impact the moods and actions of others. Her interior design courses fueled her passion and led her to become a LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) Green Associate.
Since then, she has won multiple student design competitions held by the International Interior Design Association (IIDA) and received a Design Excellence Award from the American Society of Interior Designers (ASID). Shraddha is continuing her journey towards excellence in the field of interior design.
Joshua Cruz began his journey in fashion with a high school graphic design course, where he made designs for classmates. He was motivated by creating cool things and the hope that his work could inspire others to create and share artwork of their own.
Born and raised in Mexico, Cruz is inspired by his childhood. He experienced the realities of growing up in a poor and dangerous neighborhood, surrounded by graffiti, dirty sidewalks, walls with bullet holes, and cartel members on the corner. Cruz uses that imagery as inspiration and hopes to show the beauty behind what could be viewed as chaos. His fashion designs include a variety silhouettes, textures, and fabrics to represent a multitude of lives—lives which may seem unbearable to some. His goal is to mix art and fashion to create a combination that inspires others.
Francisco Graciano has been creating art in San José for as long as he can remember. His multi-disciplinary practices include sculpture, painting, music, and tattoos. His work centers on themes of evolution and human experience that follow a ‘continuous line’ and the many factors encountered through life that develop who a person may become. The ‘continuous line’ used to describe his wire sculptures is literally manifested in the unbroken materials he used to create three-dimensional impressions of the natural world, life, and society.
In May 2024, Francisco was commissioned by Montalvo Arts Center to design and fabricate a ten-foot-tall hummingbird as part of their 2024 Marcus Exhibition. The exhibition, “A Path Forward: Honoring Ohlone Land & Spirit,” is a collaborative project led by our lead artist, Charlene Eigen-Vasquez, in partnership with the Confederation of Ohlone People and Santa Clara County Parks, dedicated to acknowledging and celebrating Ohlone Territories. Featuring a permanent pathway enhanced with augmented reality (AR) elements created by Jesus Rodriguez and Graciano’s hummingbird sculpture, the project will open on July 19th at the Montalvo Arts Center as part of “Future Dreaming,” an exploration of themes related to indigeneity. “Future Dreaming” will have its opening exhibition alongside “A Path Forward” and will also showcase works by Beatriz Cortez, including “Ilopango, The Volcano That Left” and “Cosmic Mirror,” Rayos Magos’s “Te Veo, Te Escucho, Te Honro,” and newly commissioned pieces by Ana Teresa Fernandez, such as “Circuitry” and “Pulse.”
Join Graciano and Montalvo Arts Center on Friday, July 19, 6–10 pm for their 2024 Marcus Festival, which celebrates the opening of their new outdoor art exhibition, Future Dreaming…A Path Forward.
Mariachi music has existed for decades in its current form, and it is an important part of Mexican culture and folklore. Their signature charro costumes and sombreros are iconic, and the traditional songs serve as a type of Mexican oral history. Learning to be a mariachi is a skill often passed down from one generation to another with great pride and reverence.
It is common to hire a mariachi group to celebrate family events, religious holidays, and other important occasions. While there are many mariachi groups all over Northern California to choose from, many people consider Mariachi Azteca to be the area’s finest.
The San Jose-based Mariachi Azteca was formed in 1981. Besides performing at private and public functions, Mariachi Azteca members also teach music lessons
to students of the San Jose School of Arts and Culture at the Mexican Heritage Plaza. The group, led by musician Juan Diaz, is made up of six members, though sometimes they perform with additional musicians.
There’s no need to wait around for the San Jose Mariachi Festival to catch a Mariachi Azteca performance, where they are the host mariachi group. Just head over to Tacos al Carbon on Story Road every Saturday and Sunday night at around 7:30 for dinner, and you’ll also be treated to a mariachi performance.
It’s not surprising that Keith Hames named his performance ensemble Akoma Arts. The Akan people of Ghana call the human heart “akoma.” This word represents not only love, but patience, tolerance, faithfulness, goodwill, and unity. These are his values and the ethos of his West African ancestors.
Since childhood, Hames has sung gospel and soul. At 12, he began playing the drums and forming bands, and while he may have come to San Jose for college, he stayed for the music. While raising a family with his wife, Melody, Hames worked as an art director for tech companies and performed with reggae, blues, and gospel groups. In the late 1970s, Hames became a devotee of the drum. He got hooked when he saw a group playing traditional West African music at San Jose City College, and in the 1990s, he joined Jaliya, a West African music troupe. In 2011, he and eleven others started Akoma Arts because they wanted to perform more and teach drum and dance classes.
Since 2011, Akoma Arts has used hundreds of performances, classes, and workshops to entertain and promote African music and culture. Twice a week, Hames holds drum and dance classes at the Alma Community Center in San Jose. The ensemble performs at community celebrations, civic events, weddings, museums, and at Santa Clara County Juvenile Hall. The East Side Union High School District brings Akoma Arts to their schools for assemblies and workshops.
The ensemble’s musicians play the ancestral music of West Africa on Ghanaian hand drums, bells, and rattles, accompanied by the group’s dancers. The heart of this music’s percussion is the djembe—a large, goblet-shaped, goatskin drum. The djembe’s name comes from the Mande phrase “anke djé anke bé,” which means “everyone gathers together in peace.”
In 2016, the School of Arts and Culture at Mexican Heritage Plaza gave a fiscal sponsorship to Akoma Arts, providing its 501(c)(3) nonprofit status to the group. Tamara Alvarado, executive director of the School of Arts and Culture, says this decision was a “no-brainer.” Alvarado is also a member of Calpulli Tonalehqueh, an Aztec dance and cultural diffusion group that holds classes and ceremonies at Mexican Heritage Plaza. “Keith’s a healer, he’s our trusted elder, and he is crystal clear,” says Alvarado, “that ceremony, culture, identity, resistance, and solidarity must be key in our lives if we want to make this world better.” Alvarado adds, “We are all ceremonial people. You’ve got your emails, your laptops, cell phones, and all those things, but if you don’t connect with some form of ceremony, you lose your humanity.”
Alvarado and Hames agree that Akoma Arts and Calpulli Tonalehqueh share a calling—the revival of their ancestors’ indigenous spiritual and cultural traditions. They were largely lost in the 15th through 19th centuries, when Europeans conquered Latin America and began a transatlantic slave trade.
Akoma Arts’ mission is to bring people together and create community through drum, dance, and song. “We engage our audiences and get them up to dance,” says Lisa Gains, Akoma Arts’ dance director. “They realize that we’re sharing our culture, and that breaks down barriers between us.” Akoma Arts engages young audiences by showing them how to dance and play the drums. This often introduc-es African American students to their African heritage for the first time. “Many of them don’t feel seen,” says Gains. “We have impact—we plant a seed and give them something they can hold on to, something to be proud of.”
Hames believes that traditional West African music can help people. He says that experiencing it promotes mental balance and can unify a group of strangers. When he sings and plays his djembe, he connects spiritually with his ancestors, and that’s a conduit to worship and well-being. This connection is available to everyone, which is why he’s so passionate about sharing it. “We’re stewards of African music, culture, and connection,” says Hames. “We’re sharing these songs, and we’re sharing an experience that opens your heart.”
The article originally appeared in issue 10.2, “Sight and Sound,” 2018.
Tiye Garrett began dancing professionally with the West African dance group Akoma Arts, founded by Keith Hames. When Akoma eventually closed its doors, Garrett tried to fill the void by dancing alone. She quickly realized she needed to share her expression, and the community felt the same way. She founded Kuumba LLC in 2022, emphasizing West African Dance and rhythms, community, and providing spaces for creativity to thrive.
‘Kuumba’ means creativity in the African Language of Swahili and is the sixth principle of the annual celebration of Kwanzaa. That sixth principle guides followers ‘to always do as much as we can, in the way we can, to leave our community more beautiful than when we inherited it.’ That meaning exemplifies Kuumba’s purpose in promoting self-care, fitness, educational growth, and overall wellness through body movement. Kuumba works to create spaces where all are welcome, where there is a sense of belonging, connection, health, and serving others.
Join Kuumba at Creekside Socials on Friday, July 12, 6-7 pm for an educational West African dance session with live drumming. This welcoming space nurtures connection and belonging, fostering community health. Dance with them and celebrate diversity as they embark on a fun, educational fitness journey. RSVP Here.
Kimberly Snyder developed a love for creative artmaking from a young age and was inspired by sewing and crocheting with her grandmother. Her passion for art history began with classes at the University of Santa Cruz (UCSC), where she explored the narratives, historical contexts, and rebellious nature of some artworks. These combined interests eventually led her to a career in art museums.
Snyder began her journey at NUMU as a curatorial intern in 2014. She has held various positions before, most recently becoming the executive director. Through her work at the museum, she discovered a love for building connections with volunteers, members, and staff while spotting their potential contributions to the organization. Over the past ten years, Snyder has seen the growth of programs such as NUMU’s Annual Juried High School ArtNow Exhibition. This educational program provides student artists real-world experience by participating in a juried museum exhibition.
As executive director, Snyder aims to bolster NUMU’s community presence and elevate its Bay Area profile through strategic programming. She envisions the museum as an interactive hub that continues to engage with Los Gatos’s history. She hopes to enhance existing programs, such as establishing a council of teachers and producing an ArtNow retrospective exhibition celebrating the program’s impact on students.
In our conversation, we discuss Snyder’s journey to becoming NUMU’s executive director, her experience as a mother, her hobbies, which include cooking and bringing folks together, and the words she tries to live by: “It’s not about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
Join New Museum Los Gatos for its upcoming “Boundaries: the 4th Annual Experimental Exhibition,” produced in partnership with genARTS Silicon Valley and opening on July 19.
OPEN HOURS Apr-Oct THU – SUN 10 AM-4 PM Sep-Mar FRI – SUN 10 AM-4 PM
A (Still) Life of Avocados, Lemons, Oranges, and Strawberries.
The morning before an art event, you might find James Mertke unloading the Tetris puzzle of art pieces and display shelves from his car. It’s been a little over a year since James started participating in art markets, and although he’s still learning the ropes, he’s grown a lot since his first event. He’s created an eye-catching display with hand-painted signage and a variety of shelves.
James can’t remember a time he wasn’t painting. He loves pushing color vibrancy and emphasizing shadows. “I’ve landed on acrylic paints because I enjoy the vibrancy that can be achieved and the fast drying times that encourage me to work quickly and deliberately.”
Talk with James for a few minutes, and you’ll find there’s a story behind each brightly colored still life—sliced fruit, donuts, Botan Rice Candy, strawberry “grandma” candies—simple and happy childhood memories captured on canvas. “That’s one of my favorite things about the things I paint. Just on the surface, it’s a lemon to someone. But when I tell them the story about the lemon tree, maybe they’ll share something about how their grandparents had a lemon tree that they remember.”
During high school, academics became the priority while art took the back burner. James discovered a love of mechanical engineering in 2018 at Santa Clara University. Practicing art became something reserved for weekends at home. But when many doors closed during the pandemic, a door opened for James to pursue art. Commuting time could instead be dedicated to painting.
Looking for new ways to practice his craft, James noticed a 100-day painting challenge on Instagram. Over the summer, he painted a new piece every day for 100 days in a row. With a time constraint, he spent less time adjusting the same painting and simply applied different techniques to his next piece. The subject of his paintings also shifted. “Before the pandemic, I was mostly painting ocean scenes…I would take reference photos when I went to Santa Cruz or Monterey…When the pandemic happened, I started transitioning to the still lifes because I was looking for things around my house to paint.”
A prevalent subject in James’s art is lemon slices. He finds eye-catching glassware from the thrift store, arranging and rearranging lemon slices around them to get the right reference shot. James details the strong shadows and vibrant yellows in his art, but the connection behind the lemons is personal and sweeter. The lemons come from the tree in his grandpa’s backyard. “I always say it’s a giant lemon tree, but it’s a dwarf one—I’m taller than it—but it’s the most prolific thing,” he says. His grandpa remains one of James’s biggest supporters and is always thrilled to offer him lemons. After an art market, James will call him to share how it went. “He likes hearing when I make a sale…he’ll be so excited and smiling all the time.”
After the 100-day challenge, James improved his skills—and his inventory. “I had boxes and boxes of paintings.” He made it a project to get himself into events and shows to sell his work. Since James didn’t study art or take any art classes, he didn’t naturally find himself surrounded by an art community. He’s worked to find community by joining his school’s art club, frequenting art events, and exchanging art pieces with new friends. The art community he’s found is extremely supportive. “Art is about abundance. There’s not limited space for all the artists,” he explains. “The more art people create, the more opportunities people create for people to appreciate art, and the more people appreciate art, the more people will want to support artists.”
Early this year, James was invited to show his work at the Elliott Fouts Gallery in Sacramento. His pieces have been curated into an exhibit titled, The Still Life. James also connects with the local community for opportunities to display art at businesses like Voyager Craft Coffee and Fox Tale Fermentation Project.
Recently, James introduced mechanical engineering pieces into his work by snapping reference photos in the machine shop for mechanical engineering–themed paintings. He submitted a series featuring LED lights, electrical resistors, and 3D-printed items to an art show sponsored by the School of Engineering at SCSU to celebrate the art of engineers. The paintings were acquired by the Department of Mechanical Engineering and now hang in the office.
Mechanical engineering and painting used to be two unrelated interests, but James has found they go hand in hand. “I’m an artist and engineer. I feel like when people think of engineering, it’s all math and logic…but I also like expressing my creative side,” he says. “Engineering is creative too, in a different way. I think engineering and art coexist and create some really cool combinations.”
Content Magazine and The Cilker School of Art & Design at West Valley College in Saratoga are not just partners, but a community united in their support for South Bay Artists. Over the past few years, this community has grown, coming together during the changing seasons to celebrate emerging, established, and student artists. Each year, the Cilker School of Art & Design graduation Expo has expanded, with their new visual arts building becoming a keystone fashion show. In 2024, the expo reached new heights, expanding to include the School of Science & math and culminating in their inaugural STEAM’D Fest.
The 2024 collaboration featured campus-wide activations that included physics and chemistry demonstrations, birds of prey raptor show, a visual arts student gallery exhibition, [a diverse collection of artworks showcasing the talent and creativity of our students], and a fashion show in tandem with the Content Magazine 16.3 pick-up party. The show opened with performances from the alumni ensemble “Hearts Matter,” gallery tours, food, and drink, along with featured creatives The Coterie Den and visual artists RC and Xiaoze Xie.
Guests gathered at 8 pm for the fashion show, hosted under a hundred-year-old oak tree at the new second-story visual art building courtyard. Opening remarks recognized esteemed professors who would be retiring at year-end, and a member of the Muwekma Ohlone tribe provided a land acknowledgment that recentered guests. Models took the stage, strutting the runway adorned in student designs and accompanied by projectors and a lights show produced by engineering students.
The end of the evening was marked by performances from Ambervox, which had guests dancing in the street. Even as the teardown commenced, guests lingered, connecting around the evening’s events. Your presence and participation made this event truly special, and we appreciate your support in making it a success.
This ongoing collaboration with West Valley College is a beacon of aspiration and inspiration, bringing together creatives of all skill levels, genres, and walks of life. It’s a testament to the vibrant and diverse local art community, a community that Content Magazine has long been dedicated to fostering and celebrating. Join us in this celebration of local talent and inspiration.
Get ready for our next Pick-Up Party, 16.4, “Profiles,” which is set to take place on August 22nd at The School of Arts and Culture at the Mexican Heritage Plaza in Eastside San Jose. This event promises to be a thrilling celebration, showcasing the 2024 Content Emerging Artist Award Recipients. We can’t wait to see you there!
West Valley Colleges CILKER ANNUAL ART+DESIGN EXPO ’24 at West Valley College in Saratoga, California on May 16, 2024. (Stan Olszewski/SOSKIphoto)
How fashion reflects stories of the land.
Carla Marie & Desiree Munoz: Cultural Keepers for the Costanoan Rumsen Carmel Tribe. @ohlonesisters
To be indigenous is to recognize that you are part of the land, and just like our own bodies, we need to protect and take care of the well-being of the land as well. Native fashion continues to share the stories of the land and to remind us all that without the land we would not be able to survive. Fashion has a unique ability to be intimate with people by default, simply because they are the closest things we put to our skin. They are shaped like our bodies. Embodying the stories of the land and encapsulating the ongoing stories native people have and share. Urban Native Era is one of these brands. They aim to empower people who wear their designs and to “increase indigenous visibility all around the world”.
Witnessing Joey Montoya, who is the creator of Urban Native Era, at the California Academy of Sciences fashion show that showcased three designers, Alira Sharrief of The Hijabi Chronicles, Cindy Phan of Ao Dai Festival, and Joey, was a delightful experience. UNE gave us something we hadn’t seen before in previous streetwear collections released by the brand. With their famous “you are on native land” printed on dad hats and hoodies. These designs had a contemporary touch with elegant, earthy, neutral tones and modestly fierce garments. While tuning in to the Intersections Conversation panel discussion earlier in the evening hosted by Marisol Medina-Cadena, Joey mentioned that the designs he showcased touch on a lot of connecting us to our culture and place.
You can see the etheric elements embedded into the designs of the collection. The sheer blouse felt like a fabric of ghostly allure but also ready to wear out to a nightclub or day party. Really bringing two worlds together, enabling a kaleidoscope of diverse features. I really loved Joey’s take on what clothing meant to him. He mentioned that “Clothes can hold us. There’s a spiritual-ness to it. There’s something there, it’s life. When you put something on, you feel that”. Realizing that clothes can be spiritual is a great way to dress with intention and think about how our personal stories are expressed through the clothes that we choose to put on.
Urban Native Era started in 2012 right here in San Jose, California. Joey Montoya, who is Lipan Apache, born and raised in San Francisco, wanted to spread the visibility of indigenous peoples. Inspired by the Idle No More Indigenous movement, UNE began to release its first collection in May 2013, which was made up of a series of shirts. Joey is a multimedia artist and entrepreneur who has set out to re-design a new world. One that is more inclusive. Since then, he has expanded his company, UNE, into a global phenomenon where his designs have been worn by Pauline Alexis “Wagiya Cizhan” (Young Eagle), (Alexis Nakota Sioux), who plays Willie Jack in Hulu’s original series Reservation Dogs. Joey has been featured on ABC’s Localish series Unfiltered and has been in magazines like Cosmopolitan and Vogue. Joey is deeply rooted in the Bay Area Native communities and always has a booth at local Pow Wows.
Urban Native Era is a brand for everyone to wear. Non-natives can and should wear the famous “You are on Native Land” attire to contribute to spreading awareness about who’s land you walk on, use the resources on, and understand that everything we do, and everywhere you go, you are on Native Land that has provided for us since time immemorial. We all need to recognize the indigenous names of the land we live and walk on. To pay attention to the stories that the land has and the voices of the people of the land translating these sacred stories. We must protect the land, heal the land, and love the land as the land loves us. Recognizing native land is promoting the indigenous perspective, leading down a path that takes us out of the colonial mindset of exploiting the land, and into the indigenous mindset of nurturing the land.
Read my next post, where I sat down with one of Native Fashion’s iconic creators, Collin Tru Hale, Mideegaadi Maa?iagash “Buffalo Looking” (Hidatsa/Mandan/Navajo), to discuss his perspective on the Native Fashion world.
Our job is to ask the questions that the audience is thinking so that we can all connect with what the artist is thinking.
-Lauren Schell Dickens, Chief Curator San Jose Museum of Art
The current San José Museum of Art Exhibition, Seeing through Stone, is on view through Sunday, January 5, 2025.
The stories told by museums hold profound implications for how society understands history and power dynamics. San José Museum of Art Chief Curator Lauren Schell Dickens has partnered with The Institute of the Arts and Sciences at the University of California, Santa Cruz, and Santa Cruz Barrios Unidos to curate the museum’s current exhibition, “Seeing through Stone,” part of their ongoing Visualizing Abolition series. At the heart of this project lies a critical examination of the agency wielded by artists, activists, and institutions in imagining a world without prisons.
Seeing Through Stone challenges dominant narratives surrounding incarceration and stands as a testament to the power of art in confronting societal injustices. Featuring the works of 80 artists, It delves into themes of prison abolition, offering a platform for marginalized voices and a vision for creating a world beyond prison walls. Through poignant imagery and evocative installations, artists provoke viewers to confront the harsh realities of the prison-industrial complex while envisioning a world free from the constraints of incarceration. By centering the experiences of system-impacted individuals and their allies, the exhibition aims to spark dialogue and catalyze action toward dismantling oppressive systems.
Visualizing Abolition extends beyond the confines of the museum walls by fostering networks between abolition activists and artists. Through public programs and engagements, they seek to deepen community involvement and amplify the voices of those affected by incarceration.
Lauren Schell Dickens, most recently featured in Content Magazine Issue 15.4, “Profiles,” was born in the South Bay and raised in Sonoma County. She received a BA in American Studies from Yale University and an MA in Modern Art History, Critical Studies from Columbia University in New York. Her original interest in lighting design for theater arts set the stage for her interest in the work required when sharing an artist’s work. As a curator, Lauren weaves together the voices of artists, creating narratives that hopefully have a transformational effect on viewers.
In this conversation, we discuss Lauren’s Journey to becoming a curator, the transformative potential of art in fostering collective imagination and social change, the importance of artists in challenging normative representations of prisons, and specific installations that guests should look out for.
Join The San José Museum of Art on Friday, June 21, for live musical performances that will activate the artworks in SJMA’s exhibition “Seeing Through Stone” in collaboration with the City of San José’s Make Music Day Celebrations. Acclaimed composer and theorist James Gordon Williams, assistant professor of music at UC Santa Cruz, will perform an improvisational piece using a sculpture by interdisciplinary artist Maria Gaspar made of iron bars from the Cook County Department of Corrections, the largest single-site jail in the US. Experimental composer and visual artist Guillermo Galindo will perform a piece on his artwork, Llantambores, an instrument made of materials found at the US-Mexico border.
Born in Lexington, Kentucky, and raised in San Jose, California, internet sensation DaQuane Fox, better known as Flammy Marciano, tends to be ahead of the curve when it comes to gaming, streaming, and even music. He began his music career in the late 2000s under the name Young Marvel before releasing viral songs such as ‘Jerry Rice’ and ‘Mood Right Now’ in the early 2010s under his current moniker, Flammy Marciano. Along with blending humor into his raps, Marciano has pioneered gaming and streaming into his musical career, building a large fanbase on platforms like Twitch and YouTube.
Marciano credits his love for music to his late uncle, Sultan Banks, widely known as Traxamillion. This love for music and relationship with his uncle led to Marciano’s passion for entertainment outlets that resemble television and cinema. Marciano gets deep when discussing how fatherhood has molded his life and impacted his career. Despite gaining recognition in a modern world that rewards being ahead of trends, Marciano never strays from his affinity for television shows of the 1970s and anime of the 1990s. His current success as a public figure has made his potential to become an internationally recognized influencer a real possibility.
In addition to being a father, rapper, and streamer, Marciano founded his record label, 88 Entertainment, and continues to release music that displays his evolution in sound. His upcoming project, currently referred to as ‘Yourself’ (final title pending), will be released in late Spring 2024. However, Marciano has released several exclusive early-cut tracks on Patreon before the final release.
In this conversation, we discuss Flammy Marciano’s journey as a rapper, streamer, and father, the inspiration behind his work, and the evolution of his career. You can find Flammy Marciano on all major music streaming platforms, Twitch and YouTube @flamgawdfaming, and Instagram @flammymarciano.
Host Troy Ewers is a journalist and personality from Southside San Jose, CA, with a background in music, film, and sports. Hey aims to highlight art and culture through music, fashion, film, and sports. Check out Troy Ewers on the Content Magazine Podcast, Instagram @trizzyebaby, and YouTube @topkatfilms.
Enter Fitoor, Santana Row’s new contemporary Indian restaurant and lounge, and find yourself transported. The front room, a low-lit space swathed in dark-wood panels, rich earthy browns, and a plethora of plants, somehow gives the impression of a forest after midnight. The slat ceiling, carved into a wave of wood, seems almost to ripple with movement. A fire dancer mimics this motion, twirling flames in both hands as she sways to the music. When owners Anu and Vikram Bhambri, a husband-and-wife team, say they want their meals “presented in a lively and immersive setting,” they don’t mess around.
The goal, Anu explains, is “immersing guests in a sensory journey.” To achieve this, the couple collaborated with Manu Studios, the architecture firm behind MOMENT SP2 (those micro-retail storefronts across from San Pedro Square). “Each dining room offers a unique experience,” continues Anu, “from the inviting open-air facade to the sultry ‘Gold Room’ and intimate ‘Green Room.’” This suits the restaurant’s name, inspired by the Hindi word for “passion.” It’s a title that “embodies the fiery energy and soulful essence of modern-day India,” Anu shares.
But what is a restaurant without its food? Fitoor is so much more than a pretty face, and Chef Vaibhav Sawant takes obvious pride in his craft, creating appetizers and entrees that are intricately layered and immaculately plated. Each dish is served on a unique plate: cerulean serving platters, tree round boards, or pedestal trays with marble.
He’s also a maestro of texture. The Asado Branzino with coriander mint pesto is generously topped with salli (deep-fried potato straws), which, along with the crackle of the fish’s skin, adds a crunch to the buttery soft meat. There’s also a standout Indian-Japanese fusion dish that takes supple scallops in a peanut butter salan curry and embellishes them with the crunch of finely chopped onion, finely chopped nuts, and the pop of fresh roe.
“Specializing in grilled dishes infused with fiery energy and bold spices, Fitoor’s menu is designed to ignite culinary curiosity,” adds Anu. That means feisty flavors like spicy prawn balchão stuffed in fried kulcha bread and peppery lamb curry with coconut flakes and curry leaves. For some respite from the hotter dishes, the restaurant offers some creamy (and pleasingly unusual) cocktails like the Canchanchara (rum, gardenia mix, citrus, and black garlic) and the Milky Way (bourbon, port, banana, lemon, and cream cheese).
As for the sweet story behind Fitoor’s restaurateur power couple? Anu met Vikram through her parents while she was still living in India and he was working in the U.S. at Microsoft.“We talked on the phone without seeing each other for over six months before we actually met,” Anu recalls. The two became a force to be reckoned with, united in their shared dream to bring authentic Indian cuisine to the States. They now oversee a restaurant empire that also includes ROOH (which now has several locations), Pippal in Emeryville, and Alora on San Francisco’s Waterfront. Yet despite their success, the couple remain grounded, prioritizing family time by gathering around the dinner table.“Mealtime is generally family time at home,” Anu says. “We have three generations living together in the same house.” With warmth, she describes her mom making dishes while grandma makes bread in the tandoor. “During summer, it is accompanied by salted lassi or a raw mango (panna) drink to cool down the heat,” she says.
Anu and Vikram’s international concept is well suited for a place like Santana Row. “It’s a melting pot of diverse cultures and tastes,” Anu says of the area. Here, “people appreciate culinary innovation and cultural exploration.” A quick glance around the room at contented guests licking the last of the 72-hour pana cotta from their plates leaves no doubt—these seasoned restauranteurs know how to seek out the like-minded.
Blue hues spill into the windows, bouncing off the textured eggshell white walls, creating a nice, soft glow of cool serenity. The fly on the wall can’t tell where I end and the empty bed begins. I am fully embraced by the linen sheets I purchased at Bed Bath and Beyond when it was still there on Hamilton on the west side. Somehow, mornings always have a gentle presence to them.
Slithering to the kitchen wrapped in slippery satin drapes. Thank God for coffee. Glaring with squinty eyes from the bright bulb somehow brighter than my actual overhead kitchen light illuminating the day-old papas con chorizo that will suffice for now. My cat side-eyes me as I pass by her food bowl. I know she’s antsy for some tuna as if she hasn’t eaten in weeks. “Today’s going to be a big day,” races through my mind as I head towards my closet door, oh shoot, what am I going to wear?
It’s safe to say all of us, each day, contemplate what we are going to wear: Depending on the occasion dictates the challenge. The South Bay, in all of its glory, hasn’t exactly been placed in the top five fashion regions in the world, but we are full of culture that is rich and full of creativity and life. That includes our fashion.
In my previous blog posts, I’ve accepted the challenging journey of defining our style. How we dress articulates who we are and how we feel. It’s how we are perceived when attending the Culture Night Market or open mic night at Nirvana Soul and strolling down San Pedro Square. So, what is South Bay’s Fashion style? A crisp, bubbly flight of beer. In other words, it is a mixture of all sorts of things.
How many pairs of baggy pants are currently hanging up in your closet? Why? Is it because you find them more comfortable? Or maybe you saw a friend or stranger walking down 1st Street in SoFA and thought, that’s a look. And let’s face it, we all want to look good while feeling cozy. The Hypebeast fashion aesthetic has always been a part of how we dress here in the South Bay. Throughout the years, it’s been shifting and changing, and somehow we’ve managed to add more pockets.
Streetwear in the Bay Area has always been about expressing who you are and what you represent. It indicates a lot about which community you grew up in and impacts how you navigate our communities. Today, streetwear has adopted an additional layer of identity and focuses on the internal world of dressing and how you feel. Sparking the motion of individuals to dress more authentically and as yourself, and if you don’t know who that is, I invite you to use your fashion style to figure that out.
Conclusion:
Sans logo, screen printed shirts, and accessorized garments with metal hoops and pins are all elements that describe streetwear’s evolutionary state in the South Bay. Wide pants, cozy oversized sweaters, and a drapery scarf or hood to go along with a kind of Balenciaga-like silhouette consisting of weird shapes with the accents of vintage thrift clothes and crossing the boundaries of gender norms in fashion. Androgyny has allowed us to rethink the way we are perceived, the way we are labeled, and the way we are confined to a box, which limits our perception of self-expression.
We can no longer be restrained by the compounds of decades-old ideologies of community roles, and instead need to recognize our spiritual connection and dress up our auras to influence the people around us to practice authenticity as their new religion to create salvation for us all. I invite you to think about what the clothes hanging up in your closet or sitting in piles on your couch mean to you, and they may show the world who you are or prevent the world from seeing you. A lot of us are wanting to grow as people. Some of us feel we have to, and that can, indeed, be expressed in the exploration of what we wear.
Native Fashion:
Indigenous design is the original design language of America. Connected to this land and place of what we call Canada and the United States. –Amber-Dawn Bear Robe (Siksika Nation) Fashion Curator and Indigenous Art Historian
When you think of Native fashion, what comes to mind? Do you think of feathers and maybe regalia? Well, although this is a part of native fashion, it is nowhere close to all of what it consists of. Each Nation has its version and style of clothing, as well as its own technique for making clothes and garments. All of these techniques stem from traditional techniques passed down through generations. Today, we all have more access to different materials, which enables Native designers to create their own fashion designs with contemporary concepts. Through this blog series, I will be exploring how Native Fashion weaves together the different Native communities all over Turtle Island and diving deep into why it’s important for us here in the South Bay Area. My next post will be talking about my experience watching Urban Native Era take the runway by storm at the California Academy of Sciences.
Since its founding in 2018, Chopsticks Alley Art has been a platform that elevates the perspectives and cultures of Southeast Asian Americans through a blend of cultural events, traditional art forms education, and carefully curated gallery exhibitions. The programming at Chopsticks Alley Art has provided a voice for young artists and empowered them to create positive changes within their communities.
Trami Nguyen Cron, author and visionary behind Chopsticks Alley Art, has a personal connection to the organization’s mission. Growing up amidst a tapestry of diverse world cultures, she experienced the struggles of Vietnamese immigrants fleeing post-war Vietnam. Her journey as a Vietnamese American, chronicled in her work, is a testament to her commitment to empowering her community and reclaiming their narrative. Trami’s inspiring story has been featured in episode #31 of the Content Magazine Podcast and Issue 12.2, “Sight & Sound.”
Bree Karpavage and Ann Hazels are breathing new life into the Santa Cruz art scene.
First Friday Santa Cruz is celebrating its 20th anniversary in 2024. As part of the celebration, First Friday Santa Cruz and Radius Gallery, also celebrating their 10th anniversary this year, have teamed up to host an exhibition entitled “Changing Spaces,” opening on the First Friday in June. “Changing Spaces” features the work of 39 artists and is an homage to this monthly event that presents both emerging and established artists showing in small businesses, galleries, and art spaces across the county.
Radius Gallery was founded in 2014 by Ann Hazels to create a space for contemporary art with an edge. As a commercial gallery, Radius partners with other regional arts organizations while maintaining its vision for curation and creating a platform for local artists. A practicing artist herself, Hazels believes in the power of art to change the world and works hard to create shows at Radius that resonate with visitors, knowing artists are working just as hard to make the same things happen.
Bree Karpavage, the new face of First Friday Santa Cruz since 2020, has injected fresh energy into the organization. Her focus has been on uplifting venues and artists, all while fostering a sense of community. Karpavage’s vision for First Friday Santa Cruz extends beyond downtown or traditional art galleries. She envisions it as a platform that showcases the artistic talent of the entire region. First Friday Santa Cruz is a bridge that connects the community to art and small businesses, firmly believing in the transformative potential of art experiences.
In this conversation, Ann and Bree discuss the business of art, their own art practices, advice for emerging artists, and what they hope audiences take away from their work.
Be sure to attend First Friday Santa Cruz on June 7 and check out the opening of “Changing Spaces” at Radius Gallery. This exhibition celebrates 20 years of First Friday and features the work of 39 artists. It is an homage to this monthly event, which presents both emerging and established artists showing in small businesses, galleries, and art spaces across the county.
In the courtyard of Mexican Heritage Plaza, accompanied by the gentle sound of a waterfall and a slow sway of a dense crop of palm trees, Jonathan Borca admits he’s often a bit too busy. And in a moment of reflection, he shares the fascinating reason why.
“I feel I have an existential window,” shares Borca. As a very proud advocate of San Jose’s East Side, he feels a deep connection to, and urgency toward, his community work. But even after 10 years in the nonprofit space, he’s still finding ways to grow.
“This is the first time where I’ve never had to compartmentalize who I am,” he says of his time at the School of Arts and Culture (SOAC), where he serves as deputy director. The role is quite the achievement for someone still in his 30s, but Borca’s nonprofit success is merely one dimension to his story.
His life is a tale of dualities. Born to a Mexican mother and Filipino father who met at Eastside Church of Christ near Alum Rock Avenue, Borca spent his earliest years in Japan before returning to San Jose at age 7. Raised by his mom and grandmother, he remained entrenched in the East Side until he attended Bellarmine College Preparatory through a yearly, merit-based scholarship.
“It was visceral to me, the gross inequities [compared to] where my homies went,” says Borca of the transition he experienced. “[You take] a 12-minute drive to Bellarmine’s campus, and it’s a completely different world: state-of-the-art library, multiple sports facilities, you name it.”
Fueled by a desire to help even that divide, he first got involved with nonprofit work in high school. While juggling course loads at the University of San Francisco, he commuted home to work 30 hours a week at YWCA Silicon Valley.
“This is the first time where I’ve never had to compartmentalize who I am.”
That fervent pace was burning him out, but a fateful meeting with Jessica Paz-Cedillos, co-executive director at SOAC, in early 2020 helped reignite faith in the work he was doing. “I felt her passion immediately and saw her vision as a leader,” he notes. “So for her, I leaned in.” In two years, he’s successfully led state-wide programs and grown SOACs sponsorship numbers, earning two promotions in the process.
Yet well before finding his place in such spaces, he was a confused kid trying to make sense of the world. “Coming from Japan and arriving in San Jose, I was a bit of a knucklehead,” he recalls of his childhood. His mom and grandmother tried desperately to figure out ways to ease his temper and channel his energy. He found a release in hip-hop.
First learning from the works of Arrested Development and Tupac Shakur, Borca used rap as a framework to better make sense of the paradoxical nature of his experience: “I used to think I wasn’t Mexican enough, Filipino enough, East side enough / Too private for public schooling / Too hood for private students,” he shares in his poem “Ni de Aquí, Ni de Allá” (“Neither Here, Nor There”). His narratives are often woven into a jazz-centric framework, intimately shared alongside a lone piano or strewn atop a wall of sound when he’s spitting bars as the resident emcee of 7th Street Big Band.
The name “Francis Experience” is an invitation toward deeper connection with those listening. It’s also a reference to his personal journey of cultural acceptance. For years, he thought his middle name was Francisco, but later found out it was actually Francis. It was a call back to his Filipino side—and the father he rarely saw—reminding him of his layered story: Mexican and Filipino, Francisco and Francis, performer and community builder.
In 2019, he took his passion for the arts one step further by presenting his first “Francis Experience” event at Tabard Theatre. Rather than present a variety show, he chose to stitch together different musical styles and arts disciplines into a thoughtful, three-act format. The concept was also a bit of a thought experiment.
“The inspiration was really based on an assumption. We hear that life imitates art, but I thought, ‘Can art imitate life?’ ” he points out. “Just like I’m trying to chase the thread between different creative offerings, [I hoped] that people in the audience could find a thread amongst each other.”
He’s brought that same programmatic diversity to more of his events, including A Little T.L.C., a literacy event spearheaded alongside Oakland’s Akira’s Book Club, and “Colour Me Gold,” an affordable monthly series meant to empower small businesses and showcase local BIPOC creatives.
“Living in between worlds doesn’t have to be a deficit,” Borca goes on to share in “Ni de Aquí, Ni de Allá.” “It can make you a bridge builder / It can birth new hues and add to your specialness.”
Though he may not have seen someone living the example he’s now setting, he’s making sure to be as visible as possible to those in his wake.
“This is why I need art. Because I am not very good at expressing things through words. The art is out of necessity at this point.”
Born and raised in Iran, Kiana Honarmand first experienced the magic of self-expression through music. “There was something that happened to me with the medium and expression that felt like magic. It gave me another language in which I could express myself,” Kiana described.
In high school, she studied math and physics, pivoting to art one year before attending university. Kiana went on to study photography at the University of Tehran, Iran, where her education was rooted in tradition and honing her technical skills.
It wasn’t until she immigrated to the United States in 2012 and began her MFA at Pennsylvania State University that she had the opportunity to explore interdisciplinary arts. She explained, “I became really curious because I had never done any of these things. I started really experimenting and broadening my horizons.” This shifted her way of looking at what she did and as a result, her practice became more conceptually driven. Kiana’s work used digital fabrication tools and traditional methods of craft.
Kiana’s skills continued to develop over the years and she used different mediums to help tell her story. “You have to allow yourself to mess up. Playing and experimenting is a big part of any creative process,” she said. “If you put the pressure of perfection on your first try, you are just putting limitations on yourself,” she continued.
Her solo and group shows, displayed around the US, have allowed her to share the process of immigration and the stigma that comes with it, censorship, and her experiences as a woman in patriarchal Iran. “I’m interested in finding ways to connect with people through our shared experiences, and I found that art is a much kinder way to start a conversation,” she said.
Kiana moved to the Bay Area near the end of 2019 and found it challenging to connect with her new community due to the pandemic. Luckily, residencies such as Root Division in San Francisco and The Cubberley Artists Studio Program in Palo Alto helped her maintain her artistic development. Kiana explained, “This is why I need art. Because I am not very good at expressing things through words. The art is out of necessity at this point.”
Zoë Latzer is the Curator and Director of Public Programs at the Institute of Contemporary Art San José (ICA San José).
Growing up in Loomis, California, on the outskirts of Sacramento, Latzer became familiar with the concept of underrepresented narratives. Specifically, she became familiar with Loomis’ history with Chinese workers and a Chinatown that no longer exists. That experience with lesser-known history, her lifestyle, which includes practices from the Vedic cultures of India, and her passion for art history are all infused in her curatorial practices.
In primary school, Latzer received a Waldorf education focused on integrating art with interdisciplinary learning. Latzer later received a Bachelor of Arts in History of Art and Visual Culture from UC Santa Cruz and studied abroad at Sotheby’s Institute of Art in London. These experiences were foundational in her understanding of art in relation to culture and society and its potential for social commentary and reckoning with the past. Latzer also recalls visiting Michelangelo’s sculpture of David while visiting Florence, Italy, with family as a formative moment in her understanding of art history. That visit taught her the power and sublime quality art can have on culture through aesthetics and architecture.
Latzer’s curatorial practice involves world-building by installing immersive exhibitions that provide audiences with sensory experiences. Her approach is influenced by an openness gained from practicing Ayurveda and Yoga, sister sciences from the Vedic Culture of India related to tuning into one’s environment. That approach to well-being is reflected in curation that balances empathetic conversation and art history. Latzer tries to step out of the dichotomy of “I know” and “I don’t know” when approaching art, instead prioritizing care for the artists she works with.
Latzer hopes to facilitate a platform for underrepresented artists who address narratives that provide a more complete representation of history. Approaching curation with a focus on humanity, Latzer views a successful exhibition as one that uplifts the voice of an artist and creates space for the audience’s voice, creating a blend of conversation, proximity, dialogue, and community.
In this conversation, we discuss Latzer’s love for nature, her favorite artworks, the science of sad songs, and her current exhibition at ICA San José, a collaboration with Montalvo Arts Center.
Check out “P L A C E: Reckonings by Asian American Artist,” from March 23 through August 11, featuring eleven California-based Asian American artists and two artist collectives at the ICA San José in downtown San José.
Kathryn Dunlevie has always possessed a magical perception of the world around her, even before she became an artist. Growing up all over the United States, Dunlevie developed a deep appreciation of what gives a particular area a sense of place. Nowadays, her artworks a connecting thread, bringing disparate places and ideas together in what she describes as “hazy vignettes are woven together.” She photographs the locales of her travels and sits on the pictures until she begins the process of collaging. Then, in construction, she finds a method of arranging her photos that poignantly displaces the observer’s sense of time and place. Being an artist located in Silicon Valley, Dunlevie is often inspired by San Jose’s diversity—not only in viewpoint but in its sense of locality. Given the difference in age and style that many San Jose neighborhoods possess, she believes that you can walk down the street and enter into a new world entirely. Alongside the San Jose art community, she happily stands with, Dunlevie’s work captures the ever-changing world we find ourselves wandering in.
“I have a fascination with history. I’ve always been riveted by old places, as if I can feel them. I’m always collecting images and trying new ways to combine them. My assignment to myself is to experiment with new approaches and see what ideas take shape. When something catches my eye, I grab it, often without any idea of where it will fit in. As for the themes of my projects, that inspiration finds me.”
At first glance, the Space Palette might appear to be an alien device. It consists of a large, oval frame filled with a series of holes (4 large and 12 small). If only observed, its function will remain a mystery. However, once you physically interact with the object, its purpose is revealed. By passing your hands through the smaller holes, different musical sounds are selected, while passing your hands through the larger holes allows the instrument to be played. Multicolored, abstract graphics on a nearby screen visually reflect your choices. Though the origins of the Space Palette may seem extraterrestrial, it is actually one of Tim Thompson’s many interactive installation pieces.
How would you describe your artwork?
Before 2002, I was a musician who developed nerdy software for algorithmic composition [the creation of music through the use of algorithms] and real-time musical performance [music performed through immediate computer responses]. This software was a platform for my creativity.
Since 2002, the first year I went to Burning Man, I’ve been developing interactive installations and instruments as platforms so others can be creative. Burning Man provides powerful inspiration, virtually unlimited and uncurated opportunities, and a large appreciative audience for interactive artwork. While music is still a key aspect, my artwork has expanded to include graphics, video, and physical structures.
Three-dimensional input devices are particularly interesting to me. Using a 3D input device can be as transformative as using a paintbrush instead of a pencil. The potential for 3D input in uniquely expressive instruments is exciting and only beginning to be realized.
You often combine art, technology, and music. What are some of the challenges of working with these mediums?
Dealing with complexity is a primary challenge. My installations are often intended to be “casual instruments” that can be enjoyed immediately, analogous to “casual games,” like Angry Birds. A simple interface is key to this, but simplicity shouldn’t limit an instrument’s creative use or depth of expression. I often make a comparison to finger painting—one of the simplest creative interfaces around. No one needs to be taught how to finger paint. A child doesn’t even need to be able to hold a paintbrush. Yet [finger painting] allows a depth of expression that can satisfy any artist. One of my most successful pieces is the Space Palette—its interface can essentially be described as finger painting in mid-air, where the “paint” is both visual and musical.
“Using a 3D input device can be as transformative as using a paintbrush instead of a pencil.”
Tim Thompson
In technology-based artwork, a simple interface usually corresponds with a great deal of underlying complexity. I have a lifetime of programming experience, so I’m well-prepared to deal with that complexity. I sometimes use a complex interface to contrast and complement a simple interface, incorporating both in the same artwork. The more challenging aspect for me is selecting the type of technology to use. New sensors and displays are being invented at a dizzying rate. It’s easy to find yourself always investigating the latest technology and never finishing anything. Deadlines work well to combat this tendency, and events like Burning Man make excellent deadlines.
What does being creative mean to you?
Being creative means creating something that didn’t exist previously, which applies both to me and the people using my installations. Up until recently, most of my efforts involved creating music and software out of “thin air.” With the help of TechShop San Jose, being creative with physical things is becoming easier and easier.
What are your plans for the future? Where do you think your work is going next?
I have been using and exploring three-dimensional input devices for over a decade. I will continue to explore their potential for the foreseeable future, in both casual and performing instruments as well as installations. I’m particularly looking forward to using the Sensel Morph, a new pressure-sensitive pad being developed in Mountain View.
What response are you hoping for when someone interacts with your art?
I want people to realize that they are in control and are creating their own art and experience, especially if they haven’t previously considered themselves a musician or otherwise creative. Most instruments require a long learning curve and finger dexterity, which are barriers to entry for creativity. My casual instruments attempt to break down these barriers without sacrificing the potential for expressiveness or creativity. The response to the Space Palette has been particularly gratifying. The most common things I’ve heard as people walk away from it, smiling, are: “I want one in my living room” and “I could stay here all night.”
Born in Mexico City and currently based in Silicon Valley, Taryn Curiel’s passion for art has been with her since early childhood and has culminated in a body of work filled with sensation and enigmatic energy.
Techniques involving texture, lines, and a muted color palette help her in her signature use of the figure with abstract elements. Her medium is watercolor, but in her own way. With continued experimentation, she is always learning and exploring but remains true to her overall mission: to intrigue the viewer.
Silicon Valley Open Studios 2024 takes place the first three weekends of May and showcases the studios of over 200 Silicon Valley Artists. Weekend three, May 18-19, will be hosted in the South Bay. Thirty-three artists at The Alameda Artworks in San José, including abstract watercolor painter Taryn Curiel, will open their studios to guests on May 18 and 19.
The first thing you may notice about Stephen Longoria is his gentle Texan accent. In his friendly manner, he’ll be quick to tell you about the craft of printmaking, his love of drawing his cat—or a one-eyed version of it—or his affection for his Texas hometown just north of the Mexican border.
While he doesn’t display anger on the outside, he says it drives his creative process. “Sometimes I get angry, and I just need to draw.” His stark black drawings tell the story about the sardonic state of mind in which he creates his art.
Today, Stephen is the San Jose–based owner and operator of Skull on Fire Studio, a printmaking shop downtown specializing in producing T-shirts and totes for artists and musicians. He describes his business as a punk rock business that operates more like a tattoo shop than a print studio, and he keeps his prices low to support his clients. “I try to keep it non-commercial,” he says before checking himself. “I guess that sounds pretty hipster.”
Screen printing is a complex process and supplies are expensive. It involves applying a photosensitive emulsion to a fine mesh and repeating the process for each layer of color added to a print. One mistake can cause your profit for a project to shrink drastically. Because of its cost, it’s a dying art in the Bay Area. On-demand digital printing is cheaper and faster, but it lacks the craftsmanship and vibrancy of hand-screened prints. The craft, he says, motivates him more than the money.
While his business takes up most of his time these days, Stephen still finds time to draw and make prints of his own art. His Instagram feed reveals his stylized approach to snakes, eagles, and ancient warriors. There’s no real inspiration behind his art—he just draws what he feels. “I try to draw what makes me happy. Sometimes I wake up and say I’m gonna draw snakes today, and that’s what I do.”
There’s a fantastical style to Stephen’s art that’s reminiscent of both Aztec pictographs and traditional Japanese illustrations. While he doesn’t actively emulate these styles, it makes sense that a kid who grew up in a Texas border town in an age in which pop culture was dominated by anime may subconsciously blend these aesthetics. In one drawing, a sharp-cornered cactus grows from a clay pot. In another, a roaring Godzilla emerges from the sea.
What he is actively trying to create is art that resonates with music from his teenage years. He says bands like All-American Rejects and Death from Above were defining for him as a young artist, and the feeling of that music is something Stephen tries to capture in his art.
His drawings—at least the ones he’s shared—are mostly monochrome, which makes them easier to print. While they look like they’re drawn in deep black ink, these days, Stephen is entirely digital. “I’ve given up on ink,” he says. Now, he draws in pencil, then traces the drawings in Illustrator and prints directly onto a film that can be transferred to a screen.
While Stephen is humble about both his art and his business, he has a lot to be proud of. Making a living as an artist in the South Bay is an impressive feat, and Stephen knows where his motivation comes from. “I’m pretty motivated by resentment,” he says again with a friendly laugh. “Being told I can’t do something has gotten me to where I am today.”
At West Valley College in Saratoga, Shannon Mirabelli-Lopez and Mel Vaughn have joined forces to launch the college’s first interdisciplinary graduation expo, STEAM’D Fest, where “Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, Math, and Design” reimagine collaboration.
Guided by the collective vision of Dean of The Cilker School of Art & Design, Mirabelli-Lopez, and Dean of The School of Math and Science, Vaughn, STEAM’D Fest represents a step towards fostering future integration across traditionally divided academic disciplines and further building a culture where all disciplines at West Valley recognize their connections and contributions to problem-solving in this modern world.
STEAM’D Fest plans to catalyze cross-pollination between sciences and arts by showcasing the work of students graduating from both schools. The 3-day public event will feature an art & design industry night portfolio review, film festival, Cilker School of Art & Design Fashion Show, and Dance Caravan, as well as birds of prey raptor show, chemistry and physics demonstrations, planetarium exhibition, and moon garden tour. As educators, Mirabelli-Lopez and Vaughn believe that STEAM’D Fest creates a unique platform for students and faculty members to break down boundaries between respective disciplines and leverage the complementary nature of their fields, emphasizing user experience and human-centric approaches.
Mirabelli-Lopez’s success in organizing two previous graduation expos for her school fuels her desire to support Vaughn in elevating his disciplines, aiming for increased visibility and recognition in Silicon Valley’s tech hub. In their eyes, a successful STEAM’D Fest would allow visitors to seamlessly engage with the event’s artistic and scientific dimensions.
In our conversation, we discuss Mirabelli-Lopez and Vaughn’s journeys toward higher education, their thoughts on how teachers impact students’ lives and academic success, and the music they are listening to. RSVP Here: https://bit.ly/pup163perform
Featured Artist: Kim Meuli Brown
Kim Meuli Brown is an artist and graphic designer whose journey began with a Bachelor of Science in Textile Design from UC Davis. Inspired by nature, Kim’s creations blend traditional textile techniques with contemporary innovation. Her canvas, often cotton, silk, or wool, becomes a testament to the beauty of local flora, adorned with natural dyes and botanical prints. Her current focus on fiber arts celebrates sustainability, weaving a narrative of harmony between humanity and the environment.
Silicon Valley Open Studios 2024 will take place the first three weekends of May and showcase the studios of over 200 Silicon Valley Artists. Weekend two, May 11-12, will be held in the Mid-Peninsula region, and Weekend three, May 18-19, will be hosted in the South Bay. Thirty-three artists at The Alameda Artworks in San José, including textile artist Kim Meuli Brown, will open their studios to guests on May 18 and 19.
K nown simply as “Manik” to most, Dalton got his nickname while digging through his mother’s record collection as a kid. Jimi Hendrix’s 1967 album Are You Experienced caught his eye, and the song “Manic Depression” altered his name forever. Born and raised in San Jose, Dalton describes his love for downtown: “Skaters, indie bands, hip-hop, punks—it was a very colorful underground scene. You could have one conversation with someone, and your ideas could spark exponentially.”
That kind of exponential spark has inspired Dalton’s most recent work. He explains, “During the pandemic, everything slowed down. That was my opportunity. I give it up to Francisco Ramirez, a friend and fellow artist. I would always start pieces and never finish them. It was great to see the process, but Francisco nudged me [with], ‘You should do a show. You should do more,’ got me to start painting backgrounds and framing pieces.”
As his nickname would suggest, Manik’s creative pursuits span multiple genres and disciplines. By day, Dalton is a craftsman, woodworking for his family business, Heritage Mill Work. He approaches his day job much like his art: “Definitely creative, but sometimes I am limited to what the client wants. I function as a manager, laborer, designer, quoter, sales, all of it.” Most of his art installations are framed in exotic wood, which he stains himself, explaining, “I am a builder, so I mixed the stains, and the frames are handmade with alder and poplar. If you don’t frame pieces with something nice, they lose some of their impact.”
Dalton’s artistic philosophy blends cultures of sight, sound, and spirituality. In his most recent work, he attempts to harness “something spontaneous, perfect, but perfect because it is organic. I came up with a concept called OCTMO, organic creations through mechanical operations. The perfect circle, a ray of light, waves, you see all of these things in nature.” Using his trade skills, he creates massive mechanical spinning turntables to spin his canvas. Once the mechanical processes are fabricated, he relies on meditative intentions, themes, and intuition to guide his painting. He explains, “I play really loud music, and most of the time, I start from the center. I like going with a theme when picking colors, but I also love seeing one color after the next pop, contrast, and move against the others. It never gets old. I try not to think about it too much. Just do.”
Meditation fuels the work Dalton calls “Circle Metaphysical”—his methodical practice of painting one circle after the next allows him the opportunity to zone in on the present. He explains, “Yeah, it’s hundreds of colors, but one hundred colors are nothing when you meditate.” Dalton hopes his introspective process is communicated to those who view his work, but he understands that each person will react differently, explaining, “It’s a vibe, a feeling. The colors are vibrations. Is it sucking you in, or is it blowing you out? I prefer to lightly focus on a piece and feel the pulse. If I am in a bad mental state, I might feel differently about all these colors.”
When Dalton is not painting in his warehouse or working his day job, you can find him in the studio creating ambient new-wave music, producing reggae, or hosting a Sunday morning radio show on KKUP. Dalton is currently recording his own ambient music: “I have been working on a huge arsenal of sound for years. I want to do large, colorful installations of interactive art and music. Step on the ground, and it makes a noise. Sit on a rock, and it twinkles.” Dalton’s upcoming plans are to explore color theory, collaborate with small businesses, and paint murals. “I can’t spin a wall, so I will have to work backward in my process. There are a few different ways I have worked out. I think the bigger the circles, the bigger the impact.”
Episode #112 – Zach Waldren, Tailored By Design LLC
Zach Waldren founded his consulting business, Tailored by Design LLC (TBD), with a passion for customized user experiences.
As a kid, Zach loved going to Disneyland, where he noticed commonplace items in the park, such as trash cans, were designed to blend in with their themed surroundings. Inspired by Dinsney’s level of attention to design detail, Zach became interested in tailor-made user experiences, ultimately leading him to open his own consulting business in 2018. TBD helps clients, from restaurant operations to hospitality services, achieve their business goals by curating their customers’ experiences.
Zach sees San Jose as his own Disneyland, with challenges in hospitality and endless potential in the exciting and vibrant scene. Zach focuses on culinary experiences since food has a unique way of translating culture into experiences and stories. He believes food is a chance for San Jose to differentiate itself as a city through its cultural diversity. Zach connects his various experiences in marketing, hospitality, and DJing nightclubs to analyze the problems faced by his clients.
Nowadays, food can be viewed as both nourishment and entertainment. Zach hopes to leverage both aspects of the culinary experience by producing Silicon Valley’s Taco Throwdown. Zach believes there’s no better way to bring people together than having 20 tacos in a building on the weekend of Cinco de Mayo. The plan is for people to enjoy tacos while cheering on a competition that will crown a Taco Throwdown champion.
Join Zach Waldren on May 4 from 11am to 5pm at Blanco Urban Venue for the FIRST Silicon Valley Taco Throwdown.
In our conversation, we discuss Zach Waldren’s 20-year background as a wrestler and referee, his experiences as a DJ through his college years, and his belief in family and Christianity.
Software engineer-turned-small business owner Steven Huynh is the co-owner of Goodtime Natural Wine Bar in his hometown of San José. Steven’s love for natural, low-intervention wine began as a hobby he found through travel but later inspired him and his wife to open their own business during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Steven did not come from a wine or wine-making culture. Instead, he discovered natural wine when visiting a mom-and-pop natural wine bar in Portugal. He was not only impressed with the taste but also with the welcoming personalities and environment provided specifically by natural wine.
Steven’s vision for Goodtime Bar was to create a unique environment inspired by the welcoming personalities and ambiance of natural wine bars he had experienced. Recognizing the importance of food in creating that experience, he partnered with Chef Alex Whiteman to offer a menu of seasonal and thoughtfully curated dishes that perfectly complement the natural Wines.
Prior to Goodtime Bar, Steven spent over a decade working in Silicon Valley high tech., but during the pandemic, he got burnt out. He recalls the blurred lines between work and home caused by remote work as creating “one big blob of a working day.” That feeling catalyzed Goodtime, a name conceived by Stevens’s Wife and co-owner, Ann. The plan was to create a welcoming space for everyone, including parents with small children, to eat and enjoy a glass of wine.
Sous Chef Ronnie Keli’i Apolo and Chef Alex Whiteman
Born and raised in San Jose, Steven takes pride in creating a space in his hometown for the community to gather. He has expanded his vision for the community by organizing a weekly run club and hosting comedy and live music in his space. While owning a small business is more work than he could have imagined, the connection he has made with others around his love for natural wine has been more fulfilling than imagined.
In our conversation, we discuss Steven’s origin story, the life-changing effects of martial arts on his life, the lessons he learned one year into operating his own business, and his plans for Goodtime Bar’s first anniversary.
Don’t miss Goodtime Bar’s first-anniversary celebration on Saturday, April 27th.
This all-day event will feature DJs, delicious food, natural wine, and many good times.
First united by a single rare song, Anthony Perez and Stephanie Ramirez, known as Flipside Lovers, are on a mission to share California’s oldies story with the globe.
The genesis of analog DJ duo Flipside Lovers can, coincidentally enough, be traced to a single 45 record.
Anthony Perez began playing “You’re Acting Kind of Strange,” a rare soul single by the Chappells, one evening while DJing at Caravan Lounge in downtown San Jose. Stephanie Ramirez, a regular at the soul and oldies nights where Perez played, was in the room and immediately approached the DJ booth, singing along. She asked how Perez knew about the record. He had the same response. This was a song you had to dig to find. How did she know it?
“I met Anthony collecting records,” shares Ramirez, known on the decks as Ambitious Outsider (she’s a gigantic Morrissey fan). While they had orbited similar circles, it was their deep mutual passion for collecting vinyl that kick-started their connection, and eventual relationship.
In the years since that first encounter, they’ve built a reputation for their deep collection of sweet soul 45s. Some of those records have traveled the world with the couple, helping them share the famous West Coast sound with listeners in Paris, northern England, Mexico, and throughout the US. Asked if they classify their sound as oldies, both are quick to say yes. Defining that sound, however, can be tricky to those not familiar.
“To me, ‘oldies’ is specific to California. It’s not defined by a genre, or even a decade. Call it a collective playlist that’s been growing since the 1950s,” explains Perez. “My dad listened to these same songs. I can’t think of another genre or movement where it’s so connected generation after generation. The classics are the classics, and we never get tired of them.”
The two pay tribute to that distinct tradition through the records they collect and play. They also take part in events where oldies are still a staple, cruising around San Jose with other lowriders as they show off their recently purchased white 1962 Chevy Impala named Blanquita.
“That’s inherently a San Jose culture—Lowrider magazine, King and Story,” points out Perez. “We’ve traveled the world and been able to show that culture to other people. I feel it’s important for us to try to do that.”
Their individual stories as collectors start at San Jose’s flea markets. While in elementary school, Perez remembers driving up from Gilroy and begging his parents to buy him rap tapes. His DJ name, Akro1, stems from his days as a graffiti writer.
Ramirez started her collection by picking up records, five dollars a box, from people who were simply trying to get rid of them at the Capitol Flea Market. “I never knew collecting people’s trash would later be something you played out for people,” she shares. “I feel very lucky because if I tried to start collecting records now, there’s no way I would get a lot of stuff I have.”
“I’ve had the bug since I was very young,” notes Perez. “I would take anything and everything that anybody was giving away.” When his dad noticed his collecting habits, he gave Perez lists of records to track down. Once he did, Perez would record tapes for his father to play in his car.
Surprisingly, both admit they never collected records with the goal of becoming DJs. “I always just bought records because I loved records,” Perez says, though he adds “eventually it almost becomes a responsibility to share them.” After a few sets on local college radio, knowledge of his collection spread, and his gigs picked up.
Ramirez started by recording vinyl mixes purely to share her music collection with others. “For me, every single 45 that I own means something to me. It’s very personal, which is why I don’t like saying I’m a DJ. I’m a collector at heart,” she admits.
While they’ve performed together under their individual names for years, a few years back they coined themselves Flipside Lovers, an ode to the often slower “flip side” of a 45 record single. The two recently returned as resident DJs at Park Station Hashery, where they perform twice a month as part of the restaurant’s Two Wheel Tuesdays. They also play monthly at True Brew along The Alameda.
Their drive to share history and celebrate San Jose’s local culture seems to ground their pursuit of the next elusive 45 they’ll add to their collection. It also inspired an idea to upload some of their rare records to YouTube during lockdown. That gesture allowed them to directly connect with the families of those artists, some of whom had never even heard the music before.
“It’s like a piece of history we own,” says Ramirez when speaking about her reverence for the records in her library. “We’re archivists. We care about what’s out there,” concludes Perez. “You might just die tomorrow, and it could be trash, but I feel some weird responsibility to build this library. At this point, we’re 20 years in. Hopefully, there’s another 20 or 30 to go.”
Jonathan Borca is a San Jose community leader, performer, and rapper. He is currently the Deputy Director at the School of Arts and Culture at the Mexican Heritage Plaza and the San Jose District 5 Arts Commissioner. He performs poetry and rap as ‘The Francis Experience.’
From his early days in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to his nomadic childhood following his father’s Air Force career, Jonathan Borca’s journey is one of determinant care for the community. Settling in East Side San Jose at the age of seven, Borca’s progressive mother, who introduced him to hip-hop albums from Tupac and Arrested Development, ignited his passion for poetry and the transformative power of music.
Borca attended Bellarmine College Preparatory High School in his teens through an East Side pathway program. Reflecting on his time at Bellarmine, he holds two realities to be true: the program did not do enough to support the students from under-resourced backgrounds, but it also was beneficial in developing his interest in pursuing a career in nonprofits. Throughout his journey, music, performance, and storytelling have always been a common thread, sometimes for himself and, more recently, a craft to share with others.
Under the moniker ‘The Francis Experience,’ Jonathan Borca has crafted a unique storytelling platform. His live performance projects, such as ‘Color Me Gold,’ are a fusion of storytelling and various performance genres. These curated performances, featuring a blend of poetry, rap, dance, and jazz, serve as a platform to showcase local San Jose talent.
Most Recently, Borca secured a 3-part residency at the San Jose Museum of Art funded by California Humanities. The project, currently preparing for part 2 on April 5, 2024, is titled First Friday: Hip Hop(e), Jazz, & Storytelling that will offer students and diverse audiences community members new ways to engage with exhibition themes of migration, identity, self-love, and inclusion through written and spoken word. The series is presented in partnership with Francis Experience Quartet, with co-founder Gabby Horlick (drums), standout musicians Bennett-Roth (keys, vocals), and Miguel “Frunkyman” Leyva (bass). Together, the quartet blends rap, poetry, and storytelling, which will be augmented by SJ Storyboard’s digital art and will showcase with a monthly featured poet).
The residency will be offered on SJMA’s late-night “First Fridays” with open galleries, held from 6–9 p.m. on April 5, 2024 (Rasanna Alvarez) and May 3 (Tshaka Campbell).
In our Conversation, we discuss Jonathan Borca’s Background as a youth growing up in East Side San Jose, what led him to a career in nonprofits, and the vital role music plays in his life.
Every year, 12,000 people travel from all across America to hear music by over 1,400 performers during a four-day period. With more than 80 venues from which to choose, listeners have the opportunity to see a host of new faces and acts. The event is heralded by musicians and fans alike. It began as the dream of Austin’s music lovers, a dream that eventually became “South By Southwest.” It took years to become what it is today, but with patience and dedication, South By Southwest became one of the country’s biggest music festivals. The dream lives on, but this time it does not reside with southerners in a town that was virtually unknown by the music industry just 20 years ago. The dream is occurring right here in San Jose.
Last June, more than 5,000 people made the pilgrimage to downtown San Jose to attend a five-day event known as “Left Coast Live.” The festival’s theme was “The Sound Of Things To Come.” Monday through Thursday featured discussion panels on the future of the music industry, an outdoor cinema, and free concerts. Left Coast Live culminated on Friday night with performances from nearly 100 bands at 35 different venues in downtown San Jose. The festival was well received by music lovers and festival-goers alike. Founder Chris Esparza felt the pressure of managing such a huge endeavor for the first time. “About a month out, I kept having nightmares,” said Esparza. “We have this five-day event. There are over 500 band members involved. Forty businesses were personally invested. The city was invested. I kept wondering if anyone was gonna show up. If I let them down, I might as well move.” Esparza did not disappoint. The festival was a huge success. Esparza is no stranger to the music scene. After spending some time in San Francisco and traveling the world in the late 80’s, Esparza decided to return home to San Jose. It was here that he opened the Ajax Lounge in 1991. Ajax Lounge hosted some of the greatest acts of our day — the Fugees, Ben Harper, Cake, The Roots — well before they were internationally known. Anyone who attended one of these shows in the early 90s can attest to the energy, creativity, and well-attended concerts during that time.
It was also a time when San Jose’s music scene flourished. “If you were in your twenties, you lived in an apartment for $300 a month,” said Esparza. “You rode your bike everywhere downtown. There were no cliques at these shows. You would see the business guy next to the hairdresser next to the punk rocker. They all hung out together.”
But all of this changed during the economic boom in the late 90’s. Rents shot up, but many incomes remained stagnant. The affordability of the live music scene during the weekends began to decline for the twenty-something set. “The cost of living is tough on a 25-year-old,” said Esparza. “It’s tough to buy a beer and see live music. Big houses and crazy busy lives don’t make for cramped apartments and time for art anymore.” The Lounge Bar closed, and Esparza opened up Fuel. But instead of bringing the energy that Ajax encompassed in the early 90s, Fuel operated more for private parties and corporate business functions. “There was a desert of an interesting creative crowd that dried up,” said Esparza, who later sold Fuel (now occupied by the Blank Club) in 2001.
Then Esparza opened Neglee Park Garage in 2006. He also began Giant Creative Services, which puts on events like “Winter Wonderland” and “Big Band And BBQ.” It was at this time that a local music organization called South Bay Live approached him. “They wanted to address the dying ecosystem of live music in San Jose,” said Esparza. “We agreed that we wanted to create a festival unlike anything that’s been in town before.” The goal was to initiate a musical renaissance. But the only way the festival could work was if people supported the vision of community and economic development through arts and cultural events. After two years of communications and 15 volunteers on board, “Left Coast Live” was born. The festival was a huge success. Planning has already begun for this year’s event. “We’re going to make it a six-day event this year,” said Esparza. The festival will retain the theme of “The Shape Of Things to Come,” offering panels and free concerts throughout the week. Instead of one huge night of music, the festival will stretch into Saturday. “We are asking the question of how do we blow people away but have a lot of fun while doing it,” said Esparza. With creative components like a beer garden and the main stage residing in the Ramada Inn Hotel parking lot, this year’s festival is rising to a whole new level. “It’s going to be a big spectacle,” said Esparza. “We’ve got a lot of interactive pieces.”
The future of Chris Esparza and Left Coast Live looks promising. But Esparza knows San Jose needs more venues. “There is a definite need for a venue that holds 500 to 800 people,” said Esparza. Currently, the Civic Center holds 2,800 people, and the California holds 1,000. “I would love to see five more venues open,” Esparza noted passionately. “I want it where on Tuesday, you can have four choices on where to see live music, and on Saturday, you have seven.” We can only hope for such a dream to come to fruition. In the meantime, we can take what is given to us: a great music festival this summer that promises to hold many surprises. Left Coast Live will take place from June 21-26 in downtown San Jose.
In an unassuming suburban garage in South San Jose, a music studio is tucked in parallel to a parked car, storage totes, and hanging bicycles. Often, you can find a poet getting active in the studio, chipping away at refining his craft, hoping to carve Corinthian columns from a career in acting and music. This creative headquarters is home to Davied Morales, AKA Activepoet.
Davied Morales is a San Jose–born actor and rapper who has worked for numerous Bay Area theater companies, appeared in television shows, commercials, and various short films, and amassed tens of thousands of followers across social media. The COVID-19 pandemic allowed Davied to focus on the “why” behind his work. He explains, “I was able to learn more about the business and understand why I want to do this work. I want to inspire people who look like me, and let people know that they can do it too.”
Raised by a single mother after his father’s untimely passing, Davied had to grow up quickly at a young age. He notes, “I know what a bad day looks like. I always try to be extra positive because I know life’s hard.” His work’s light-hearted joy and humor can be traced back to the shows he watched as a kid. He observes, “Shows like Kenan and Kel were huge for me. They represented a space for being goofy on TV. I loved it because there wasn’t as much violence or the huge political problems you see in our community. We’re always getting killed on TV. We can be anything we want, so why can’t people of color just have friends and tell cool stories about what we can do?”
“Everyone deserves to be creative. Creativity is a fundamental truth for all of us. We say in our work that fish swim, birds fly, and human beings create. That’s what we do.”
Along with manifesting positivity through his craft, Davied also works as an improv facilitator for San Jose’s Red Ladder Theatre Company, a social justice company with whom he leads workshops for men and women experiencing incarceration. When talking about his work in California prisons, Davied adds, “Everyone deserves to be creative. Creativity is a fundamental truth for all of us. We say in our work that fish swim, birds fly, and human beings create. That’s what we do. The best feedback we’ve received was from an attendee who said that for two hours, it felt like they weren’t in prison. I want our participants to know they’re still in touch with their childhood selves. There are bright spots in this world, and I want them to see that.” Moving forward, Davied is developing a catalog of music and content focused on sustainable production and consistency that fans of his work can rely on. The work he puts in now is meant to create an infrastructure that will support more extensive projects in the future. You can follow Activepoet on all platforms for valuable information, a behind-the-scenes look at the industry, and something to make you laugh. Davied Morales continues to prioritize art in his life and wants to make art a priority in the Bay Area.
A Sneak Peek at Harsimran Sandhu’s Short Film Pulp
Cinequest Film & Creative Festival is back again. And stronger than ever. From March 6th to 17th, over 200 films, celebrity Q&As, and prestigious after-parties will mark the 33rd year of Silicon Valley’s premiere film fest. On opening night, a steady stream of moviegoers flowed into the grand and gilded California Theatre to kick things off with the world premiere of gothic fantasy thriller The Island Between Tides. Quite a few actors, cinematographers, and directors flew in so they could walk the red carpet—after all, the festival’s films come from numerous States and 45 different countries—but we’ve got Bay Area talent in the lineup too.
If you only attend the festival’s feature-length screenings, you’ll miss a local gem tucked into the short film program. Pulp, a debut short directed by San Jose native Harsimran Sandhu, is a tale about the immigrant experience. Considering that 40.7% of San Jose’s residents were born outside the U.S. as of 2021, Director Sandhu’s film seems a fitting tribute to our diverse region in a multicultural festival.
Sandhu overcame quite a number of hurdles to bring his vision to the screen. In fact, it took a defeated moment while studying for a B.S. in business at San Diego State to first light the spark. “Junior year, I remember sitting in an accounting class learning about credits and debits, and I had this big existential crisis,” Sandhu recalls. Later that night, “I was on the floor, venting to my roommate. I was like, ‘Life is over. What am I doing?'” After some words of encouragement, Sandhu perked back up and was determined to make a film. “I just felt so compelled to make a capital ‘S’ Something,” he emphasizes. But there was a short window of time to realize that dream. Sandhu had until graduation to utilize his college’s film resources and connections.
So this aspiring director started walking into film classes. “I would talk to professors, and I was like, ‘I can’t enroll in this because I’m not in the major, but can I sit in on these classes and learn and observe?'” He admits that, at first, the imposter syndrome was rough. “I felt like such an ‘other,’ if I’m being honest,” he shares. “An outsider looking in.” But he stuck with it and started pouring late nights into scriptwriting.
With no prior screenwriting experience, Sandhu penned and discarded countless drafts for six months until one of his roommates confiscated his laptop and read his work. The script sheds light on children of immigrants and their experience—a story inspired by Sandhu’s own relationship with his parents, who moved to the States from Punjab, Northern India. “My roommate started crying,” Sandhu recalls. “She was like, ‘This is beautiful, you need to make this!'”
Pulp discusses how many immigrant parents might not know how to express love adequately through words but often show it through their actions. “I fell in love with the imagery of giving someone the bigger half of an orange,” Sandhu says as he discusses the film’s title and key symbol. “It’s a mother eating less so her daughter can eat more… It’s ‘I want to peel it for you. I want to do the work for you so you can reap the rewards.'”
The film also portrays the pull between finding a “responsible” job and following the siren’s song of a creative career—a divergence many children of immigrants must navigate. “You’re supposed to pay your parents back. You’re supposed to take care of them and make their sacrifices worth it—and there’s such a clash with the pursuit of your own dreams,” Sandhu reflects. “That’s something that I’ve personally struggled with: that balance.” Plenty of his peers face the same dilemma. “I’ve had so many late-night talks with my friends about ‘What can we do?’ And no one knows the answer,” Sandhu says. “We’re all figuring it out. There’s no blueprint.”
As Sandhu shared his dream for Pulp with his classmates, quite a few rallied around the project, ready to bring his story to life despite the cost. “I was shocked at the generosity of it all,” the filmmaker says. “A lot of them cited that they were doing it because of the story.” Sandhu then managed to score the Pursue Your Dreams grant by Ascent Funding. “It was amazing, but it was also very scary, because I just got a direct deposit of $10, 000!”
Everything was going swimmingly until it came to rent video equipment from the school. Because Sandhu wasn’t a film major, he wasn’t given access to it. Nothing a little creative problem solving and willpower couldn’t solve. “I’d talk to people in my class, and I’d be like, ‘Hey, just attach your name to the project, and say you’re making a movie so we can check out equipment under your name,'” Sandhu recollects.
After the film was complete, he hit another roadblock. The SDSU Film Festival rejected Sandhu’s entry on the grounds that he was a business major. “I was like, ‘Please, guys, please!'” So they made an exception. “And I ended up winning Best Director,” Sandhu says with an amazed shake of his head.
Sandhu’s success catapulted him into the film festival circuit and earned him an internship with the Emmy’s as well as acceptance into a South Asian writer’s room. He’s currently working on a feature about a mom searching for her son in the wake of the 1984 Sikh genocide. “If I can make someone feel less alone—if I can make a movie that feels like a hug—I would love to do that,” he says.
Showcasing his film at Cinequest is a special moment for Sandhu. He first attended this festival as a teen, seeking extra credit for one of his classes at Gunderson High School. “I was the only one from my class who went,” he recalls. Watching spirited shorts, then hearing directors and writers speak about their films left a long-lasting impression. “I felt so enamored,” he says. “It’s a full circle moment—because I’m on that stage now!”
Ready to make your own memories at Cinequest?
A few films to look forward to this year include The Trouble with Jessica (a comedy starring Rufus Sewell and Alan Tudyk), Ezra (a dramedy starring Robert De Niro, Whoopi Goldberg and Rainn Wilson), Puddysticks (a dark comedy starring Jurassic World’s Mamoudou Athie) and Tim Travers and the Time Traveler’s Paradox (a sci-fi staring Machete’s Danny Trejo).
Special events this year include an AI Town Hall about all things AI and creativity as well as Silent Cinema (1920s old Hollywood classics accompanied by a live organist).
Support Sandhu by watching the shorts program at 9:30AM on March 16th at the Hammer Theatre.
“People will always want to talk about [my past] because it’s exciting. They focus on who you were, not who you are, or who you’re trying to become.” -Steven Free
Steven Free spends a lot of time with animals, whether it be the dogs he walks to pay the bills, the kittens he and his wife live with, or the giraffe that lives in his heart.
A radio plays to the hum of an overhead projector in a suburban backyard studio. A shelf stuffed with toy giraffes looks down on a tidy workspace. There are sketch boxes, a sink surrounded by binders filled with paint swatches, and a table topped with replica shipping containers that exhibit pieces by an (in)famous Bay Area graffiti artist. Hunched over the desk, standing in the spotlight of the projector’s halogen bulb, or tagging paint mixture instructions on index cards is Steven Free, better known as “Girafa,” a painter with a past that keeps his hands hard at work and his head in the clouds.
Steven’s artwork centers on a character that he developed as a teen. He was adopted as a toddler after his birth mother left him in a Bay Area motel room. That experience, subconscious in specificity, set him on a path of self-actualization. Stimulated by the response he got from recreating comic panels as a child, he gravitated toward creativity. Always doodling and looking for ways to express himself, Steven enrolled in capoeira, a martial art and dance form originating among enslaved Brazilians. He practiced capoeira for 18 years but gained an identity that would last a lifetime. As a rule, the Mestre, or instructor, would give his students nicknames. He landed on “Girafa,” the Brazilian Portuguese word for giraffe, for Steven, in reference to his lean and towering frame. “Since I have always been interested in comics, superheroes, and their alternate identity, I ran with the nickname and developed a character,” he says. By the early 2000s, the character most commonly associated with Girafa was painted on over a thousand walls, trucks, and pieces of property that did not belong to Steven. That version of radical self-expression resulted in arrest and restitution but began a new life for the giraffe that was once Steven Free. While not initially inspired by his inherited alter ego, giraffes have grown on him over the years. “When my Mestre gave me the nickname,” he explains, “I thought it was dumb, but I started to realize its potential. The long neck. The pattern. The environments I could include.” The versatility of the giraffe, combined with his appreciation for animals, stemming from his mother’s passion for bringing home pets, fostered themes of interspecies communication. “Animals can’t tell you what they need,” he says, “but if you pay attention, you know. It is a weird dialogue we have with our pets. I don’t draw people; I’m not interested.” Transposing elements of pop culture and human expression on the characters he illustrates has drawn audiences to his work. “I like giving animals human qualities when expressing sorrow, anger, or excitement.”
When asked how he feels when stumbling across pieces of his past life in the wild, Steven shares, “It’s the paint; it’s the sun that has eaten it away. It’s trippy because I know that was me, but I’m not carrying that same feeling.” His time creating graffiti will always trail him, “People will always want to talk about it because it’s exciting,” he claims. “They focus on who you were, not who you are, or who you’re trying to become.”
Today, Steven splits his time between walking dogs and creating art under his Girafa moniker. He shifted his focus from producing art to designing products after his 2019 solo exhibition at the late Arsenal SJ. Having difficulty selling artwork, Steven wanted to make his brand more accessible to those who followed his graffiti. He produced T-shirts, totes, keychains, and air fresheners, his latest push being a collection of replica trucks and shipping containers bearing iconic Girafa pieces. “After wrapping that show, I was burnt out with painting. I jumped into product design, but that took on a life of its own. That’s pretty par for the course,” he claims. “Every artist lives in the process of gradually evolving their work. I am excited to jump back into art and see if I can make a living being a full-time artist.”
Searching for greener pastures can be challenging, especially for a giraffe accustomed to the city streets. Steven’s shift to studio practice has been a change of pace. “Projects can take a long time. I didn’t have weeks to complete work in the street. I had to learn to be okay with not finishing a piece within an hour.” That extra time allows Steven to mix paint colors and meticulously document the shade and mixing process on index cards he catalogs in binders. While working fast is no longer a requirement, he always looks for ways to optimize his processes. “How can I work smarter, not harder? Sometimes, my process is very rigid, and I do things until they burn me out,” Steven says.
Steven’s contemporary work is still inspired by and attributed to the Girafa character he imagined as a teen, but he now distinguishes between foreign and familiar imagery. “I have a bad habit of trying to reinvent the wheel. I try things and start to lose the core of my work. It is a balance. I want to maintain what I am known for.” Pieces displayed in his studio depict a classic Girafa spot pattern composed in multi-color abstractions, a process formed by creating templates, masking lines, and inverting colors; his interests in color theory and intricate detail are on full display. “I can get into these pattern paintings with multiple color overlays until the process takes it out of me, and I need to scale back. I want to continue doing Girafa; it is what I am known for and enjoy doing, but I want to see where that can evolve.”
The next step for Steven is branching outside of the South Bay. He is working on a catalog that he hopes to display in galleries nationwide. This ambitious next step is one of evolution and self-determination. “Having work shown outside the Bay Area would give me much more confidence. There’s fear, because you don’t have hometown support, but you must be comfortable with things not working out, pieces not selling, or not being invited back. That’s the artist’s journey; even when things aren’t working out, you still have this drive. It’s who you are. It would be like telling somebody they can’t breathe anymore. You can’t help yourself.”
In addition to enduring the growing pains that come with forging a new path, Steven is a newlywed and lives a simple life with his wife and cats. When asked why folks should care about Steven Free, he counters, “I don’t think people should care about me. They should care that there are people like me willing to express themselves through art. I am not where I would like to be, but maybe somebody out there looks up to me. If they could see what I went through, the struggle, and how I continued to do work and want to progress as an artist, and that gives them hope? Being an artist is hard. We need people doing that hard work to prove it is possible.”
Pick-Up Party 16.2, “Sight and Sound,” was the 12th anniversary celebration of Content Magazine featuring the innovative and creative people of Silicon Valley. The party was an ambitious collaboration among venue host Creekside Socials, event designers Asiel Design, Filco Events, and Illuminate SJ Now!!!, along with supplied food by Barya Kitchen ,and the dozen or so creatives featured in the magazine, who displayed their work.
Creekside Socials is a Google project managed by Jamestown, activating San Jose’s Downtown West. They have a full lineup of community events and workshops scheduled for 2024.
Our Pick-Up Party was the first event of its kind held inside Creekside Socials and was a fantastic opportunity to activate the warehouse at 20 Barack Obama Blvd. With support from our partners, we brought in a stage, lighting, and projectors that illuminated the sights and sounds of Issue 16.2. We even introduced our partnership with Needle to the Groove Records, which made our long-dreamt-of flexi-disc magazine insert a reality.
Guests were treated to a live studio pop-up hosted by Brittany Bradley, a wet plate collodion photographer, performances by 2024 Poet Laureate and Creative Ambassador Yosimar Reyes featuring Ivan Flores of Discos Resaca, Srividya Eashwar of Xpressions Dance, singer-songwriter Amara Lin, Needle to the Groove Records, and Kid Lords who closed out the night. In addition, six visual artists featured in the magazine displayed their work, including 2024 Creative Ambassadors Deborah Kennedy and Rayos Magos, Shaka Shaw, and Girafa.
This evening brought together various genres and mediums of music and visuals, exposing individuals to creativity they may not have been otherwise exposed to. Our goals of creating a magazine real-life experience were highlighted by our fantastic community of creatives, supporters, and partners who are essential to Content Magazine’s future.
We at Content Magazine are grateful to all the artists, partners, members, and community for your support in this project to give visibility to the artists of Santa Clara County.
We hope to see you again on May 17th at the West Valley College School of Art and Design for Pick-Up Party 16.3, “Perform.”
Musician – Amara 林 | Videographer – Victor Aquino | Photographer – Britt Bradley | Rapper – Chow Mane | RecordLabel – Discos Resaca Collective | Dancer – Srividya Eashwar | Artist – Girafa | Rap Crew – Kid Lords | Photographer – Josie Lepe | Artist – Julie Meridian | Record Shop and Label – Needle to the Groove Records | Illustrator – Shaka Shaw | 2024 San José Creative Ambassadors – Dancer – Alice Hur – Artist – Pantea Karimi – Artist – Deborah Kennedy – Artist – Rayos Magos – Storyteller – Yosimar Reyes
SVCreates Content Emerging Artist 2023
Putting Pen to the Past
A shoulder-hung tote swings in the mid-morning air as Keana Aguila Labra approaches a sanctuary of creative inspiration. Depending on the day, that sanctuary may be a cafe, a public garden, or a library. Wrapped in the canvas tote are tools for building historical foundations and deconstructing generational curses. Along with writing instruments to translate pain and promise into poetry and prose, you may find books written by authors such as Victoria Chang, Therese Estacion, or Janice Lobo Sapigao—literary figures outside the canon of white literature sharing stories with which Keana can relate.
Keana wears many hats and explains, “I see myself mostly as a poet, writer, editor, and creative. I am also co-director of the Santa Clara County Youth Poet Laureate program and co-founder of Sampaguita Press, an independent publishing house.” Keana’s work focuses on sharing cultural, historical, or personal knowledge to foster representation and safe spaces for readers and creatives unseen in society’s cultural hierarchy.
“I hope that I can share the knowledge that I have obtained and disseminate it freely to folks who might not have access to the education I have had. Education is power.”
Keana is a Cebuana Tagalog Fil-Am poet, and writer in diaspora. Her parents, who immigrated from the Philippines, wanted a better life for their children in the form of Americanization and careers in science. Interested in creativity and ancestral roots, familial friction fueled Keana’s interest in developing forms of self-expression. “My mother can be my biggest role model and enemy at the same time. I hope she sees I am breaking generational curses,” she shares. “I empathize with my mother a lot. The trauma of immigrating alone when she was 15 is her generational curse. Poetry is a vessel to work through the things I couldn’t articulate to my mom, not because I couldn’t share what I felt with her, but because I knew she was carrying her own weight. Our parents aren’t just parents; they’re people too.”
Keana’s poetic process is captured in a quote from William Wordsworth: “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” Keana’s poetry typically begins with a thought or emotion that crystallizes in a moment and is jotted down as a note for later interrogation. “I try to sit with myself in a kind of meditation, write down snippets, and continue coming back to them. I think of them as my children,” she explains. “I don’t rush a piece if it is about very intimate emotions. I like to keep the original snippets to see how I refined them over time, thinking about craft, intention, negative space, and the flow of line.” Keana, a self-described poet-historian, writes poetry in both English and the Bisayan language of Cebuano, a regional language in the Philippines and her grandparents’ native tongue.
Keana hopes to expand Marías at Sampaguitas Magazine from a digital to print publication, pursue an MFA in creative writing, and obtain a teaching credential while writing a book and screenplay. Keana concludes, “I hope that I can share the knowledge that I have obtained and disseminate it freely to folks who might not have access to the education I have had. Education is power.”
A wheat-pasted poster on a San Francisco sidewalk may be commonplace for 99 percent of passersby. For photographer Dan Fenstermacher, the details caught his eye from across the street: an ambiguous lower body clothed in shorts and walking shoes—leg tattoos exposed—standing on a trail with marketing copy that read “on the path to zero impact.” Dan also noticed a burly, shirtless man thirty feet away walking towards the poster; he had patchy body hair on his chest that shared an uncanny resemblance to a smiley face. Dan hurried across the street to catch the convergence of the two. The photo he captured juxtaposes a hipster on a hike with a shirtless man on a city street—both of whom are uniquely getting in touch with nature—and puts a humorous spin on the sustainability marketing technique of showing people experiencing the outdoors. The composition plays with body level, placing the lower body on the poster in line with the man’s upper half. While any similarity between those two figures could be viewed as an abstract coincidence, Dan sees potential in layering and capturing dissimilar details with eye-catching composition to create something new, authentic, and often funny.
Dan Fenstermacher is a burgeoning photographer with internationally recognized work. He’s also a professor and chair of the West Valley College photography program, a contributor to The San Francisco Standard, and a volunteer photographer for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. Dan’s projects blend street photography and photojournalism with clever juxtaposition; his photos are most known for their vibrant colors, use of flash, and humorous composition.
Originally from Seattle, Washington, Dan obtained a bachelor’s degree in advertising from the University of Idaho before moving to Los Angeles to pursue a career in marketing. While there, he realized that advertising has less to do with creative ad concepts and more with market research, data analysis, and spreadsheets. Dan recalls, “I hated it. I started taking photography classes at night through a local community college while doing those advertising jobs. I had a roommate at the time who went off to Korea to teach English, so I figured I could do the same thing.” Dan went on to use his community college photo credits to teach fine art in China, aided by student translators. Later, he enrolled in a graduate photography program at San Jose State University.
“Traveling makes me feel alive. When you experience a new culture, it’s like getting to experience life again for the first time.”
Dan’s photography is rooted in detail and captures reality at the core of often misunderstood situations. “I have always been an observer,” he says. “I tend to notice things that most people wouldn’t consider. I like to combine street photography with journalistic documentary themes.” Each of Dan’s projects captures a range of topics and manages to juxtapose conception with reality. His project documenting seniors in Costa Rica contrasts American society’s fear of aging with the joy and experience seen on the faces of the elderly. His “Streets to the Dirt” project documents Black cowboys in Richmond, California, and shows that cowboys are not just White men in movies. Dan continues to broaden his photo expeditions, explaining that “traveling makes me feel alive. When you experience a new culture, it’s like getting to experience life again for the first time.” Dan’s career as a photography professor allows him to embrace his passion while surrounded by inspiring up-and-coming student artists. Dan aligns his trips with his school schedule and plans to travel to Guadalajara, Mexico, to document mariachi culture. His next goal is to produce his first self-published photo book.
Dalia Rawson is the South Bay’s authority on all things ballet. A longtime performer with the now-defunct Cleveland San Jose Ballet Company, the Saratoga native has performed for numerous companies in addition to holding backstage management positions with the Silicon Valley Ballet. With the closure of that company, Rawson founded The New Ballet School in March of this year. Less than a year later, the school has grown to over 300 students and is the only school on the West Coast that’s been certified by the American Ballet Theatre. The New Ballet School’s first production this winter, featuring Rawson’s choreography, will be a San Jose–inspired rendition of The Nutcracker
“It’s been since 2006 that I last danced professionally. Of course, I miss it, but the career doesn’t last forever. I was just really lucky to work with people I looked up to. It’s been 11 years now, but I certainly get a lot of joy and inspiration from teaching young people and working as a choreographer and director. Our newest production is the San Jose Nutcracker, which tells the classic story with local inspiration. Set in the city around 1905, it will feature a glowing replica of the historic San Jose Electric Light Tower, as well as the historic skyline. It’s something I’m really excited about.”
Trevor Jones is a family man, building designer, and co-owner of Minnow Arts Gallery in Santa Cruz, California. Trevor was born and raised in Cupertino before studying economics and international studies during his undergrad and earning a master’s in architecture from the University of Oregon. Trevor describes the 15 years he lived in Portland, Oregon, as the “cauldron of his life as a creative person.” Inspired by Portland’s DIY art, design, music, and skateboarding scene, he imbued collaborative and process-oriented principles into SpaceCamp Studio, his design-build practice where he works as principal designer and general contractor.
Trevor moved to Santa Cruz in the early 2010s to continue his work at SpaceCamp, raise his family, and, as a surfer, live a coastal lifestyle. He met Minnow Arts Co-Owner Christie Jarvis through a mutual friend and artist, Jeremy Borgeson. Christie, a landscape architect, ceramicist, and filmmaker, was looking for office space, and Trevor had an office in the barrel aging warehouse of Humble Sea Brewing. It didn’t work out for them there, but it led Trevor and Christie to look for an office together. They eventually found and leased the space that became the Minnow Arts Gallery.
Trevor and Christie began hosting exhibitions that featured work from friends and artists they were connected with. Since then, Minnow Arts has been working to create an inclusive and supportive gallery focused on supporting the local art scene in Santa Cruz and giving opportunities to local and regional artists. Rather than having a strict mission statement, Minnow Arts stays true to its DIY roots and takes a more flexible approach to exploring what the space can be through different shows and events. They also aim to make exhibiting art more approachable and demystified for artists. Trevor sees his role as a “companion” to artists.
In our conversation, Trevor shares his approach to building design, reflections on the journey that led him to co-owning a gallery, and advice for anyone hoping to ‘do it themselves.’
Join Christie and Trevor at Minnow Arts Gallery on Friday, January 5th, for First Friday Santa Cruz as they open a retrospective exhibition featuring artwork from Good Knife Studio Creative Director Juan Llorens, a Buenos Aires-based artist who designs and illustrates work for Humble Sea Brewing’s cans, bottles, and marketing materials. Frank Scott Krueger from Humble Sea Brewing is collaborating with Juan to curate the show.
The Cultivator and Developer of Content Magazine review a year of publications. Daniel Garcia founded Content Magazine in 2012 and has cultivated the longest-running South Bay Arts magazine ever. David Valdespino Jr. Joined the Content team full-time in January 2023 as a production manager and writer.
In this conversation, we discuss highlights from the year, some magazine design and layout details, hidden aspects of the production process, and contributions from some writers, editors, and photographers that make Content possible. Episode #108 is the first time our team has offered a behind-the-scenes look at producing Content Magazine.
THANK YOU to the writers, photographers, editors, partners, and creatives that make Content Magazine possible.
Issue 15.2 Featuring:
Tattoo Artist – Danny Fernandez | M.A.N.O.S., Jimmy Castañeda | Visual Artist – Trinh Mai | Painter – Angela Johal | Photographer – John Todd | San Jos Photo Walk – Julie Chon, Diana Mae, 35mmallie, Yvonne Yeh, Sheldon Chang | Stylist – Kelly Peters | Gathering Artisans Collective – James, Clarice, & Jafar Green | K-Cafe – Kayla Dinh | Mama Kin – Andrew Saman | Silicon Valley Gay Men’s Chorus | Flautist/Teacher – Azeem Ward | Raue – Paige Kalenian & Jax Huckle | Album Picks – Needle to the Groove
Issue 15.3 Featuring:
Dancer – Alyssa ‘Ms. Mambo’ Aguilar | Chancellor of the West Valley-Mission Community College District – Bradley Davis | Designer – Carlos Pérez | Photographer educator – Dan Fenstermacher | Actor and rapper – Davied Morales, AKA Activepoet | Singer/Rapper – Ervin Wilson | Scholar and dance ethnologist – Farima Berenji | Hip Hop Record Label – F.R.V.R. Records, Aldin Metovic, Brevin Rowand, Vanessa Vindell | Aspiring Photographer – Iris Zimmerman | Writer/Poet – Keana Aguila Labra | Painter – Leslie Lewis Sigler | Musician – Mike Huguenor | Artist Educator – Mitra Fabian | Artist Rubén Darío Villa – Mr. Fuchila | Album Picks – Needle To The Groove | San Jose Earthquake – Niko Tsakiris | Emerging Fashion Designer – Nyr Acuavera | Graduating Architecture/Landscape Architecture – Onna Keller | Painter – Renée Hamilton-McNealy | Tattoo Artist – Sefa Samatua | ShaKa Brewing
Issue 15.4 Featuring:
Tattoo Artist – Abraham Ortega | San Jose Storyboard – Bertrand Patron Paule | Nonprofit organization – B.L.A.C.K. Outreach San Jose | Poet – Elodia Esperanza Benitez | Painter – James Mertke | Filmmaker – May Yam | Developer – Michael Messinger | Multidisciplinary Artist – Pantea Karimi | Muralist – Paul J. Gonzalez | San Jose Museum of Art Curators – Senior Curator: Lauren Schell Dickens, Assistant Curator: Juan Omar Rodriguez, Curatorial and Programs associate: Nidhi Gandhi | Artist & Illustrator – Suhita Shirodkar | Together We Create | Elba Raquel, Mesngr, Wisper, Roberto Romo | Meraki by Yaya Fashion Design – Yaya Bautista | Data Artist & Professor -Yoon Chung Han | Poet & Storyteller – Yosimar Reyes | D.J. – Weezmatic, Aaron Aquino
Issue 16.1 Featuring:
EPA Center, Nadine Rambeau | Tai Zhan Bakery, Wendy Chan | Gallerist, Pamela Walsh | Artist, Ignacio “Nacho” Moya | Musician and Painter, Ben Henderson | Artist, Miguel Machuca | Arts Los Altos, Maddy McBirney & Karen Zucker | Clothing Brand: Exhilo, Curtis Ying | Ensamble Folclórico Colibrí, Arturo Magaña | DJs, Soulmat3s | Musician, Will Sprott
The South Bay arts community rallied in Los Altos on November 30th to celebrate the release of Content Magazine Issue 16.1, “Discover.” Hosted at the stunning State Street Market food hall on the corner of State & 3rd Street in Los Altos, we invited the artists, musicians, organizations, and contributors featured in issue 16.1 to create a ‘Magazine-in-real-life’ experience for guests.
Creatives featured in the issue, such as Gallerist Pamela Walsh, Artist Ignacio “Nacho” Moya, Painter Ben Henderson, Artist Miguel Machuca, and Clothing Brand Exhilo by Curtis Ying, displayed their work in the center of State Street Market. Tucked between entrances, DJ Duo Soulmat3s performed throughout the night, spinning original mixes of eclectic genres, responding to the energy of the large crowd, and keeping the vibes right. Halfway through the party, guests were treated to performances by Will Sprott, followed by Ben Henderson with Wax Moon on drums and bass. Having made a long journey from his home in Grass Valley, Will was always within arms reach of his young son, Oz, even while performing. Will performed versions of songs from his new solo album, Natural Internet, that featured harmonica solos by Oz. Ben Henderson, backed by members of San Jose’s Wax Moon, filled the hall with warm folk music that garnered everyone’s attention.
Each of the nine food vendors hosted in the food hall generously provided delicious samples to content members. From ice cream and fried chicken to mocktails and matcha madeleines State Street Market hosts a diverse array of International cuisine.
As the night drew to a close and artists began wrapping up, you could see new connections and old friends leaning on the bar, waving farewell, or lending a hand. In the 12 years Since Content Magazine was founded, this pick-up party was the furthest distance from our home office in San Jose. We were overjoyed by the warm welcome of Los Altos, the willingness of folks from as far as Gilroy and Grass Valley to join, and the familiar air of kinship the arts community often provides.
State Street Market often hosts community events and is open to the public Sunday through Thursday, 11:30 am to 8 pm, and Friday & Saturday, 11:30 am to 9 pm, with the bar open late until 10 pm. State Street Market also offers space reservations for groups of 15 or more. You can plan your next party or meeting with no reservation fee or food and beverage minimum. Pre-order from amazing food hall vendors and invite up to 150 guests.
Thank you to everyone who joined us and our Event Partners for making these events possible!
State Street Market & Murdoch’s Bar. Bibo’s Pizza & Pasta, Ikuka, Konjoe Burger, Little Blue Door, Little Sky Bakery, Orenchi Ramen, The Good Salad, and The Penny Ice Creamery.
Issue 16.1 Features:
EPA Center, Nadine Rambeau | Tai Zhan Bakery, Wendy Chan | Gallerist, Pamela Walsh | Artist, Ignacio “Nacho” Moya | Musician and Painter, Ben Henderson | Artist, Miguel Machuca | Arts Los Altos, Maddy McBirney & Karen Zucker | Clothing Brand: Exhilo, Curtis Ying | Ensamble Folclórico Colibrí, Arturo Magaña | DJs, Soulmat3s | Musician, Will Sprott
Pamela Walsh is an artist of a different sort. As a gallerist, her work lives in the margin between artwork and art buyer. A gallerist’s art is not just curation but creating a space that brings people to artwork and telling those stories-becoming a conduit between artistic expression and the community that is engaging with it.
Pamela Walsh Gallery is a contemporary art space in Palo Alto’s Ramona Street architectural district. The historic building housing the gallery was designed by Stanford architect Birge Clark in 1929.
Having opened in 2019, before the COVID-19 pandemic, Pamela was able to weather the turbulence of unprecedented times and is set to celebrate the gallery’s 4th anniversary with a group exhibition opening in December 2024.
The gallery’s focus on contemporary art is on creating a platform for diverse creative expression or establishing emerging artists. Having spent 20 years before opening her gallery, Pamela sold works from historical artists. Still, she decided to move forward with contemporary art as a fun and inspiring way to work with artists who are currently practicing. Small local galleries like Pamela’s are crucial to the arts ecosystem by encouraging artists, providing opportunities, and fostering a culture of art.
In our conversation, Pamela shares what it means to be a gallerist, her background in art and working in galleries, her journey toward becoming a gallery owner, and the role her space plays in the broader arts ecosystem.
In this follow-up to Podcast #81, we reconnect with Marcus Lyon, artist, photographer, and founder of A Human Atlas, after completing his Silicon Valley project entitled De.Coded, which launched in October 2023.
In our conversation with Marcus, we talk about what he learned from his time with Silicon Valley change makers, how this project differed from previous experiences, the philosophy and design elements of the physical book, and what is on the horizon for A Human Atlas.
Some key takeaways from his time spent with the 101 Silicon Valley change-makers featured in De.Coded are the importance of Latino/Chicano culture and history in shaping the region, the rich diversity of cultures that have come together among various waves of immigration and migrations, themes of belonging, and a constant emphasis on refining the process behind A Human Atlas with a focus on context, equity, and authenticity.
Having completed A Human Atlas of Brazil, Germany, Detroit, and now Silicon Valley, Marcus Lyon is still grounded in what inspired his first project. As an Englishman married to a Brazilian with “Brazinglish” children, his initial concept, Somos Brasil (2016), which told the story of 104 extraordinary individuals creating social change across Brazil, was intended to develop a deep cultural immersion for his family. Originally intended as a one-off endeavor, Marcus began receiving requests for similar projects after its publication and recognition.
Currently, Marcus and his crew, including Joe Briggs-Price & Camila Pastorelli, are working on a new A Human Atlas project based in Los Angeles, entitled Alta / a Human Atlas of Los Angeles.
Human Atlas projects are research-based, interdisciplinary explorations of the people of a specified geography. They are built on extensive nomination processes. A carefully curated group nominates individuals who are championing and driving social impact in all its forms: from public servants to entrepreneurs, from non-profit leaders and activists to artists and scientists. The projects then map these remarkable humans through photographic portraits, app-based oral histories, info-graphic mapping, and ancestral DNA. Human Atlas projects take on many digital forms but always begin as a published limited edition book and an interactive exhibition.
Check out Episode #81 on our blog or Spotify for full background on Marcus and his Career
Pictured: (L to R) Marcus Lyon and Camila Pastorelli
Book images provided by Human Atlas.
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Tracing Roots: Trinh Mai Finds the Beauty in Life through Honoring Cultural Heritage
Heart first, Trinh Mai aims to bring people together through art. Finding comfort in color and peace in faith, her multidisciplinary works honor her Vietnamese cultural heritage and shine a light on larger stories of shared humanity.
“We have to draw strength from our community work, the people we love, art, and hope. We are drawing from a transcendent source. All beauty comes from that process of discovery.”
-Trinh Mai
Trinh Mai’s love of art is deep, rooted in family history, connecting past and present. As Trinh describes, she thinks in branches—uncovering stories—in search of healing, hope, and community. Her art is a prayer, a process of discovery, honoring her cultural heritage and family.
Shaped by her family’s experience escaping Vietnam during the War in 1975, Trinh uses art as a language to connect hearts to the stories of loved ones. Having passed through many countries, including the Philippines and Guam, on their journey to the United States, Trinh’s family arrived in Pennsylvania at one of four refugee camps in the US at the time. Born in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, Trinh moved to Southern California at a young age and lived with extended family while her parents moved to Silicon Valley during the ’80s tech boom to find work. Trinh attributes her creative energy to her parents, who were both very meticulous, creative, and clever. Her dad nurtured a green thumb and loved cultivating bonsai trees. Trinh’s love of nature and desire to connect to the land threads through her work in symbolism and materiality. Trinh co-creates her art with history, informed by the heirlooms and stories of her family and the deep feeling of responsibility to honor her culture and share that love with the wider community.
“One of the things that the elders and people in general fear is being forgotten. And not just that they are forgotten, but their history is forgotten, the history of [their] people, the ways that [they] arrived here, traditions, food, family lineages, and the sacrifices they made. What a shame it would be to forget about the sacrifices that were made for us to be here. My fear is that their fear will be realized. It’s both a blessing and a burden to carry this responsibility to share. But one of the things that has encouraged the elders through my art is not just that they see themselves and I’m honoring their lives, but also knowing that the younger generation cares and wants to carry on the history. When families see heritage being passed down and honored, it takes that fear away. And it’s not just descendants that are inheriting that culture, it’s also the wider community that we are sharing it with.”
Trinh’s favorite mediums are oil paint and charcoal, but oil on canvas is her first true love and how she found her voice. Trinh’s love of oil painting began at San Jose State University (SJSU), creating abstract paintings. Painting on large canvases felt like creating an all-encompassing environment that she could step into. During her studies at SJSU, Trinh encountered a Mark Rothko painting at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Initially skeptical of his work, seeing it in person was a very pivotal and transformational experience for her. It opened her eyes to how art could convey spiritual essence through color and form. Finding herself standing in front of the Rothko painting, Trinh was “consumed by the cadmium red.” Describing the experience as deeply real, it opened her heart to what she wanted her work to accomplish.
“I wanted to make paintings like that, so true to what they are that they speak for themselves. I would like for whatever spirit is living inside the painting to speak. I don’t need to be a part of that conversation, but I think maybe my role is to have an intimate relationship with the work, and then the work has its own relationship with the viewer.”
Trinh describes her relationship to art as “salvation to the fullest,” born out of a desperate need to find comfort through life’s hardships. Through abstract art, Trinh found her footing and fell in love with the comfort, light, and life that art brought about.
“As I started maturing in the art and really taking it seriously, I realized it’s teaching me to see, the art of observation. I realized that was the main lesson, and once I embraced that, I saw how free I could feel painting boxes and spheres.”
As a multidisciplinary artist, Trinh describes her use of various mediums as a beautiful and fulfilling symbiotic relationship, with each medium teaching her unique lessons. She appreciates the labor and lessons that each provides, allowing her to excavate ideas by digging deeply through experimentation. For example, stitching teaches her to slow down, be careful, and have patience. From painting portraits to writing poetry, Trinh creates her work from a place of deep intentionality. Art has opened doors for Trinh to speak to universal truths of unified humanity. “I started discovering things about my family history that are shared by so many other people, not just Vietnamese refugees, but people all over the world.” Motivated by a desire to serve the community, Trinh finds purpose in discovering the beauty of life that can arise despite tragedy. “I feel that my responsibility is to offer life to stories to give comfort to other people.” Art gives life back to objects and stories and sows seeds for future generations. Sharing these stories cultivates a shared cultural heritage.
Driven to discover what it means to have an intimate relationship with God, Trinh is deeply thankful for her faith and the peace and purpose that it brings her in daily life. For Trinh, it all comes back to an essential question: “In the midst of life’s trials, where do we turn for strength? We have to draw strength from our community work, the people we love, art, and hope. We are drawing from a transcendent source. All beauty comes from that process of discovery.”
IKUKA pastry and dessert shop at State Street Market in Los Altos takes its name from the first syllables of the Japanese words imo (sweet potato), kuri (chestnut), and kabocha (pumpkin). The goal of its creator and general manager, Miyuki Ozawa, is to bring the namesake flavors popular in Japanese baking to the South Bay.
Miyuki created the idea of IKUKA alongside her mother, Kuniko Ozawa, a prolific Bay Area restauranteur. In addition to Kuniko’s five other South Bay Japanese American restaurants, including Orenchi Ramen (also at State Street Market), Sumika Grill, & Ogiku Kaiseki, Miyuki is putting her stamp on Japanese cuisine in the Bay. IKUKA offers the deliciously starchy and subtle sweetness of imo,kuri, and kabocha as well as other favorite deserts from Japan such as the beloved Mont Blanc, burnt basque cheesecake, mini croissants, and mochi bread in hopes that patrons can experience delicate texture and sweetness of authentic Japanese pastries that bring out the natural flavors of the ingredients.
Try IKUKA at Pick-Up Party 16.1 This Thursday, November 30th, 6p-9p at State Street Market. Content members will receive a complimentary taste as a toast to their support of South Bay Creatives.
If your Christmas season has become packed with tinsel-clogged, holly-infested Hallmark films, it’s time to shake things up with a good murder. A holiday whodunit at the City Lights Theater Company seems suitable for the season. After all, what December is truly disaster free?
The Game’s Afoot (also known as Holmes for the Holidays) written by playwright Ken Ludwig and directed by Mark Anderson Phillips, shows at the theater from November 16th to December 17th. City Lights invites theatergoers to a Connecticut castle in the ’30s—home to American actor William Gillette who garnered fame playing the character of Sherlock Holmes. While entertaining his theater friends on a rainy December night, William discovers one of his guests fatally stabbed. He must channel his role as Holmes to crack the case. Hazardous and hilarious circumstances ensue.
William is played winningly by Actor Damian Vega who brings candor and heart to his performance. This marks Damian’s 8th time working with the theater company. “My favorite productions to date are all with City Lights,” asserts Damian, who has been acting ever since he scored the lead in a vegetable-themed play in the 4th grade—and has since gone on to perform in not only a number of theatrical productions but also in commercials and independent films. “I keep coming back because they really treat you like a family member while you are working there—and once you’re initiated into the family, it’s always a wonderful feeling of homecoming every time you get a chance to come back.”
Damian is joined by a strong cast. Standout performances include Alycia Adame (who thrives in the role of eager and eccentric Inspector Goring) as well as Gabriella Goldstein (who takes the role of Daria and embraces the character’s fatal dramatic bent with such evident delight that her energy is contagious). There’s also Tom Gough who plays our hero’s roguish best friend Felix. Tom’s flustered reactions and impeccable comedic timing are sure to amuse. “[Tom] teaches acting for a living, so he’s definitely a mentor that I study while I’m working on my own character,” Damian says. “Plus, Tom has an extensive background in improv so watching him bring that out in his work has given me the courage to try it in my own.” And the two actors do a great job feeding off each other on stage. “[Director] Mark mentioned that William and Felix have an Abbott and Costello vibe to their relationship,” Damian chuckles.
You’ll enjoy not just the cast, but the castle. This glamorous old-world manor house will make you feel like you’ve stepped into a game of Clue (it even features a secret passageway)! What’s more, there’s a foreboding wall bristling with weapons. It calls to mind those familiar questions: Was it Miss Scarlett with the revolver in the dining room? Mr. Green with the knife in the study? “Oh, we’re nice and cozy in here, but we’re cut off from the world in this horrible storm, and it’s not really that cozy because there’s a dead person in here,” Director Mark comments mischievously.
Set designer Ron Gasparinetti’s attention to detail is also remarkable—from the textured stonework and old-timey radio, right on down to the glowing embers in the fireplace. The extended wood ceiling beams seem to draw you into the stage world. Also take a moment to appreciate the collection of black-and-white photos on the wall—which on closer inspection, you’ll find aren’t family portraits, but the faces of the many actors who’ve played Sherlock over the years (from Basil to Benedict).
Which brings up another point. This play is wonderfully meta—meaning it’s a story that emphasizes the devices used in storytelling. And it does this from scene one: the production opens with a play within a play. You also have a City Lights actor (Damian) who performs the character of William—an actor known for his character Sherlock. What’s more, Director Mark has also played the role of Sherlock in a previous play. This blurs the line between reality and fiction. And the intimacy of this 100-seat theater takes it a step further. The audience’s closeness to the characters makes us feel like we’ve joined them in the room.
Though The Game’s Afoot is a fairly recent script, it’s one we hope to see circulating for years to come.“Many theaters tend to stay with ‘safe and proven’ shows because they know that they’ll get a built-in audience,” notes Damian. “City Lights is willing to take a chance on new work or controversial topics. They know the value of sharing those stories with the audience. Those of us lucky enough to witness that or be a part of that are changed for the better.”
Ready for a glittering comedy mystery during this season of twinkling lights?
Treat yourself to City Lights’ little crime before Christmas.
Founder and CEO of The Good Salad, Sanad Al Souz, is on a mission to shake up mealtime by offering healthy and delicious signature chef-crafted salads.
Coming from high-tech engineering, Sanad noticed his colleagues’ interest in nutritious lunches in a corporate cafeteria setting and got to work on an online salad offering that allowed the public to order custom salads. Since scaling to 3 brick and mortar locations in Santa Clara, Los Altos, and Palo Alto, Sanad has formed a team that reflects the values of making good food for good people so that they can feel good. But they don’t stop there; they make it taste good, too.
Try @the.good.salad at Pick-Up Party 16.1 on Thursday, November 30th, 6p-9p at the State Street Market. Content members will receive a complimentary taste as a toast to their support of South Bay Creatives.
Look out for our next video mini-profile on @I.ku.ka, which will drop next week.
Rooted in the Bay Area and based in San José, Rosé began pursuing music at 16 to bring a new era and sound to the scene. As an emerging rapper and hip-hop artist, Rosé is working hard to establish himself by performing, releasing new projects, and building a local and international fanbase.
Inspired by artists such as Drake, Future, Torey Lanez, and Bugatti, Rosé works to express himself across vocal mediums, blending styles of rap and singing to express himself authentically. Influenced by his family’s love for 90s hip hop while growing up, he aims to cultivate his versatile style like those early rap pioneers did.
Rosé plans to release a trilogy of ‘Bay Born’ mixtapes that showcase the sounds he is cultivating from the Bay and capture the sound of his career at different stages. He is also working on a project called “Last Week” that will represent different days of the week based on a difficult period he went through while doing his last project. Rosé is focused on constantly releasing new singles and videos and performing live shows to continue growing his fanbase and career.
His new project, “5” with Cam G, is an EP available on all streaming platforms, and you can also find all his other music on all streaming platforms.
Follow him on Instagram @sjro28 for updates on his music and live show dates.
In Troy’s conversation with Rosé, they discuss his journey as an artist, his new project with Cam G “5”, and the state of the San Jose rap scene.
Host Troy Ewers is a journalist and personality from Southside San Jose, CA, and has a background in music, film, and sports. Troy aims to highlight art and culture through music, fashion, film, and sports. Check out Troy Ewers on the Content Magazine Podcast, Instagram @trizzyebaby.
“Five, four, three, two…” Standing in his living room, where bright teal couches and dark walnut cabinets complement cerulean walls, Paul counts down to his own interview: “Are you ready for launch? Let’s go!”
In the world of artist and designer Paul J. Gonzalez, possibility is as limitless as outer space. No conversation is ordinary, and no day is without surprise. So, one should always dress for—and anticipate—the possibility of splendor. Even to buy groceries, he’ll sport a one-off steel bracelet or flat top sunglasses or a metallic jacket.
But if a blur of futuristic inventions and astrological predictions is what you’re envisioning of his world, you might be surprised to learn that all his clothing and accessories come out of a color-coordinated, space-optimizing closet. In fact, he may be one of the most organized and self-analytical creatives you’ll meet.
Inside his home office, a small but well-lit room boasting groovy shelves he built himself and wide dual monitors—one of which he places sideways like a long scroll—he regularly takes stock of his life: body, mind, and soul are assessed as though they are pillars of a business (and arguably so for a full-time artist).
Here, Paul files away his receipts, categorizes his spending, and tracks personal data. The daily work certainly serves financial accountability, but he aims to cultivate improvement. “There are three Pauls: past, present, and future,” he declares. “All Pauls have to relate to each other.” Present Paul tallies interpersonal interactions and inventory alike: “Maybe, I got a little too drunk at the Cure concert,” he ruminates. “But it was Robert Smith!” he weighs. “But still,” he concludes, “I’ve got to check myself. I spent a little too much on alcohol, and I can put this money towards a new tablet.” Then the emotional check-in: “Did I have any breakdowns? Did I have any arguments? Why did I have arguments?”
Few may manage their daily lives so closely, but these routines feed his artistry. Health fuels work and rest, feeding not only into great ideas and the execution of them but, ultimately, more time for his family.
“By handling different mediums, you’re able to overlap the multiple skills and sometimes create something new that you never thought would happen.”
-Paul J. Gonzales
“Appreciating what you have,” he stresses, “is key.” Rather than crediting knack or discipline, he pinpoints gratitude as the primary engine of his self-managed, independent lifestyle. He recalls one low period of his life when he had just lost his job: “All I’d been doing was working and coming home with no time to create. I was depressed for years.” But inertia struck while watching a PBS documentary about a survivor. “I’m watching the show in my room, depressed, probably drinking a beer,” he recalls. “This guy climbed mountains and had to hunt his own food. I was sitting at home thinking, ‘I have nothing to complain about.’ It’s all in my mind.”
So, he began to move. He ran and rode his bike. He packed himself lunch. He went to work, and repainted vandalized buildings with San Jose’s Graffiti Removal program. He did push-ups in between lifting cans of paint. “I started figuring out ways to work out my time,” he recounts. “So then I had time to draw.”
As a kid, he knew he wanted to become an artist. For that very reason he fought to get into art school and then didn’t complete the degree. His program was setting him up to become a teacher or professor even though he signed up with the expectation of being an artist, completing projects, and learning from each piece along the way. So he sought education elsewhere.
“I needed to learn about business, marketing, finances, and management.” He found mentors and picked the brains of those he calls his “elders.” “If you want to really learn more about yourself,” he recommends, “talk to these elders who are already done with their work—anyone who’s willing to share the honest truth, because they’ve lived it.”
About to turn fifty next year, he’s ready to offer the same—such as how writing down experiences to look forward to can alchemize stale energy. “I’m looking forward to my mom, the calls, her visits. I’m always looking forward to adventures with my wife: Burning Man, Machu Picchu in the fall,” Paul shares. “I’m looking forward to cleaning my house and the yard. I’m looking forward to building the fence.”
Before the list is exhausted, he’s on his feet. There are many projects, murals, and presentations that he’s in the midst of at this very moment—but the process of each one, ironically, keeps him from succumbing to overwhelm. They will all be completed “so that I can either move on with it or critique it,” he says.
It sounds far-fetched, but it’s working. Over two hundred murals deep, he’s still excited for what he hasn’t yet done. “By handling different mediums, you’re able to overlap the multiple skills and sometimes create something new that you never thought would happen,” Paul remarks. From designing costumes to creating games for events, from woodworking to ceramics, he finds joy in both the start and the finish.
Whether someone wants to purchase a piece or he has to move out of his home, he sees it all as a chance to “start all over.” He can leave behind the custom fence, the teal walls, and the toolshed floor he laid down brick by brick in exchange for a whole new experience. After all, who’s to say that any part of his past didn’t have his future in mind? His life today is the dream of a shy kid who hardly spoke up but could definitely dress up.
As a child, Paul remembers being picked on for his soft-spoken nature. But in fifth grade, he discovered the Cure, and in sixth grade, he heard the Sex Pistols, and by middle school, he had found his voice through the sounds and fashions of punk rock. Standing out with bleached hair and leather jacket in the ’80s, “I was picked on even more then,” he recalls. “They’d call me gay, this and that. But the LGBTQ kids would hang out with me, and we’d have a blast.” Paul followed his crew to the gay bars and clubs, where all hues and textures of hair and fabric flourished, and he did too.
He is the only son of a young mother who raised him along with his grandmother and aunt. Her handy resourcefulness crafted a home that was eclectic and wondrous, with sculptures like King Tut’s head and his uncle’s live piranhas in the living room. “It was a small house on 25th Street near San Jose High,” he shares. “We were a low-income family, but I didn’t feel like I was without. She was always designing from a thrift store perspective and fixing things. So she would also help me with my costumes, too.”
He mentions breezily, “We’ve been winning costume [contests] in my family since the ’50s.”
These days, he likes to have his mother climb on the scaffold and paint with him. “She’s on her fifth mural,” he says proudly. As for his vast collection of art in every medium, “I don’t want to be a master,” he says, “but I definitely want to have a good time playing.”
The benefit of loving your hometown is that if you close your eyes, you can see it in any season. It imprints itself onto you. Artist Rubén Darío Villa can see his hometown of Gilroy clear as day. Through his art he speaks of his culture, his home, and the history he lives with. His art tells the story of growing up in the Bay Area as a first-generation Chicano.
Like a lot of designers, Villa reached the pinnacle of success early in his career. His first major job out of Santa Clara University was as a designer at Apple. Years later, he transitioned to a similar position at Google. After a decade-plus tenure in tech, Villa was let go during the pandemic. As a husband and father of two, Villa recounted, “It had, for me, a beautiful awakening of what I called my year of cleanse and curate. Let go of things. You begin to be very particular about what you bring back into your life. It started with the four of us, my family. What else could make this better? The beauty of the yin and yang of the pandemic.”
During his time at Google, Villa took on the volunteer role of global brand lead for Google’s Latinx employee resource group, HOLA. Inspired by his experience there, Villa curated the event Sin Miedo (fearless), Google’s first all-Latinx art exhibit. Villa scheduled the event to coincide with Hispanic Heritage Month, with the intent of highlighting the ocean of Latinx talent tucked away in the Googleplex.
This was in 2017, at the dawn of Trump’s presidency, when his harsh rhetoric towards Mexico was at its zenith. Talking heads across the media landscape were occupied with fact checking and proselytizing the then-president’s accusations that Mexico was sending criminals, rapists, and drugs into the country. Sin Miedo would let the Latinx community voice their truth and experience. To further the concept, Villa constructed an outdoor gallery of fences, explaining, “There’s a good neighbor fence and a bad neighbor fence. And the bad neighbor fence is the one where the other neighbor doesn’t want to pitch in to build a new fence between your properties. The one that pays for the fence puts the wood planks on their side so it’s beautiful. You don’t see the post and then you leave the other side completely open. That’s the bad neighbor fence. If you help pay for it together, both sides look nice. We’re being a bad neighbor to Mexico right now.”
The exhibit also acted as the unveiling of Villa’s personal art piece, Frida 4587. The unveiling of the portrait—crafted from 4,587 pieces of candy-covered Chiclet gum—coincided with Frida Kahlo’s 110th birthday. The piece made the rounds across social media and was lauded by major outlets like HuffPost, Pop Sugar, and Yahoo! News.
Villa was a ceaseless voice for the Latinx community while ensconced in the tech world—but that is an industry he has no plans on returning to. “I learned all the lessons God needed me to learn,” Villa goes on to explain, “The culture at Apple had me thinking that there was something wrong with me. I thought that the way Apple did things was the norm. It was my first big job after college. I just thought, ‘This is how it has to be.’ What I realize now is that I’m a big picture person, and I just didn’t fit the secretive, need-to-know work environment. And although I found a better home at Google years later, I don’t think I would ever go back to tech.” Once free of the constraints inherent in multinational conglomerates, Villa went on to fully represent that community that means so much to him in his art and his line of Mexican-themed air fresheners, Fúchila Fresheners.
Fúchila, slang for “smelly” in Spanish, takes the novelty car air freshener and instills it with a collective history, the nostalgia found in the Latinx community. Villa opened shop on Fúchila Fresheners in 2015 with six original designs: Frida Kahlo, Pancho Villa, Blue Demon, Cantinflas, Selena Quintanilla, and a sugar skull. Over the years, there have been over 100 different designs, with Villa dipping further into the iconography and nostalgia of his youth. Villa named this pool of inspiration “Chicanostalgia,” the experience of Western pop culture as lived by the Chicano community.
In the background of all this, Villa was also a board member at youth services organization Digital NEST, an advisor on the San Jose Public Arts Advisory Council, and was recently elected commissioner on Gilroy’s Arts and Culture Commission. These roles are as vital as the design and branding work. In March of 2023, Villa opened the doors on his latest venture, Fúchilandia. Based out of the non-profit 6th Street Studios and Art Center in downtown Gilroy, Fúchilandia will not only be Villa’s home base for design work but will act as the final resting place of Fúchila Fresheners, which is slowly being phased out. “Fúchila Fresheners was never really about air fresheners. It was about feeling seen in even the smallest of products, about honing my craft, about inviting other artists to join me, and about activating the community in ways that amplify our humanity. The fact that the air freshener production has slowed is only an indicator of my cleanse and curate ethos,” he says.
As the final stock of Fúchila Fresheners runs out, Fúchilandia is just getting started. Joining Villa on his new project hangs Frida 4587 , his visual signpost looking to the future from the past.
(Article originally appeared in issue 5.0, “Underground” – Winter 2013.)
The man behind Universal Grammar helped bring Kool Herc and DJ Jazzy Jeff to his hometown. He’s felt the elation of a successful club run coupled with the sobering lows of watching fickle audiences grow disinterested in his message. Through it all, he’s remained a believer in the potential for the arts in San Jose, and past run-ins with tear gas and revolutionaries continue to inform his creative process.
When he came across the words “universal grammar” while perusing a Noam Chomsky text in the library, he knew he had finally found the right phrase to sum up his mission.
Though he admits he’s never finished reading the linguistic theory that is his brand’s namesake, he does clearly recall just what the words meant to him the first moment he saw them. They captured exactly how he felt about music and conveyed everything he hoped to present with his shows.
“I’ve always felt music was the universal language,” Aguilar outlines. “Conveying this universal message through art and music was my way of connecting to people, creating a culture for people on a universal scale.”
Aguilar, a local promoter and community builder 15 years into a self-sustained career, remains a key tastemaker in San Jose. He’s brought Questlove, Talib Kweli and Little Dragon to town, but many may not know that his favorite events were actually literary—engagements with authors Jeff Chang and Pulitzer Prize winner Junot Diaz. He may be dealing with The Fairmont now, but don’t think that his activist mindset, molded by a West Valley College educator, has worn off.
Born and raised on San Jose’s Eastside, Aguilar’s passion for music emerged through hip-hop. He didn’t need to look far to build his obsession with beats and rhymes, as Star Records, a key South Bay music destination at the time, was located just down the street. He was among the kids who would hang out in front of the store, hoping to snag an autograph from the rappers who happened to pull up. Among those early visitors were the Fat Boys, Masta Ace, and Biz Markie. After years of haunting the premises, his dream came true when he landed a job at the record shop in his teens.
“I’VE ALWAYS FELT MUSIC WAS THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE.”
Drawing from a stable of rapper friends and an obsession with L.A. underground hip-hop, Aguilar put on his first show at West Valley College in 1998. The event was a hit, even though Aguilar admits he had no idea how to put on a show at the time. He organized two more shows in successive years. While planning for his fourth, Aguilar received a call from, in his words, “another institution I had always revered from afar”: MACLA. They asked him to present a vision for a show in their space.
“I wrote something up, a vision statement basically,” Aguilar recalls. “I wanted to do an art and music event for younger folks downtown. At the time, it was unprecedented. There was nothing else going on that hit that audience.”
The Director of Programming loved his proposal, and his event featured several graffiti artists who have gone on to further national and local success. It was a runaway hit for both him and MACLA, and after a continued string of success in the space, he was given the opportunity to rent out the MACLA facilities to people like himself. The job started a partnership with MACLA that lasted for close to a decade.
Aguilar’s artistic vision always measures out context and historical significance. He recognizes a need to honor music’s legacy while looking forward at the same time—upcoming tributes to both James Brown and hip-hop production duo the Neptunes are great examples of this dynamic. It’s a notion he feels is being lost on the next generation. “You can’t go forward without knowing your past, and I think that’s lax in music today,” he says. “A lot of young kids, they love their EDM, but they don’t know the roots of it. They don’t know that techno and house were created by African Americans in Chicago and Detroit.” As he knows, music only tells half the story, and the crowded shelves in his room, packed full of anthologies and artist biographies, reveal his investment in that spirit.
His stint at MACLA led to an interest in entering the nightlife scene, and a partnership with Agenda Lounge soon developed. With his business partner, he created a night called Stank. Word spread through his well-designed flyers, and in his watershed summer of 2003, he was able to book both ?uestlove, drummer and leader of hip-hop group the Roots, and the legendary DJ Jazzy Jeff. These shows ushered in the Serato era for deejays in the South Bay. By September, carrying records into a club was obsolete.
An overlooked key to Aguilar’s outlook and approach to programming remains his involvement in the 1999 WTO globalization protests. West Valley paid for him and a few other students to fly to Seattle to take part in the events firsthand. He didn’t tell his parents why he was headed to Seattle. When they found out, they demanded he come home, but he relented. His choice was the full realization of the progressive ideals he had learned from educator Tom Moniz, whose classes at West Valley taught Aguilar to become more politically active. “I had to be directly active in this movement,” remembers Aguilar. “I didn’t want to read it from a book. I didn’t want to look at it in a paper from afar and be like ‘I support that. I’m about that.’ I wanted to be that.”
When he returned, Aguilar’s emerging political beliefs continued to stir up issues with his father, a former Vietnam vet who served in the Army. He once recalls hanging the American flag upside down in his room, which his father tore down later that day. He offered an ultimatum: hang up the flag like that again, and you’re out of the house.
Though his Universal Grammar mission rolls on, his parents and girlfriend still urge him to find more stable work. The lows of his line of work remain vivid. He still remembers the fallout from his runs at Agenda and Voodoo well. “That’s the thing about being promoters,” he admits, “You book a show and sometimes you can lose your ass. It keeps you underneath for a while.” But Universal Grammar is about much more than just entertainment. It’s about offering thoughtful, compelling content that speaks to others and celebrates the potential for change that art and music pose for the world at large. It’s work he almost considers a duty.
When asked why he has decided to remain in San Jose despite the ups and downs it’s presented him over the years, Aguilar doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Why am I not in LA and San Francisco doing what I’m trying to do here in San Jose? Because those cities don’t need it.” His activist self takes the forefront once more —the battleground for change remains in the heart of Silicon Valley. “San Jose needs it. That’s where the work is needed most.”
Most recently, Aguilar has been celebrated for his curatorial vision at The Pagoda, a former restaurant located inside the Fairmont Hotel. It’s a space he
has been able to shape creatively through his “Live at The Pagoda” series, a name locals have come to rely on as a co-sign for progressive artistry, regardless of name recognition. The Fairmont has taken note of Aguilar’s success with the series, and they are in talks with him to bring his programming to other hotels. With the right act, he may even be able to construct a Fairmont tour.
The irony of now being aligned with an entity like The Fairmont is not lost on Aguilar, but he maintains his approach to programming remains the same.
“Obviously, now, I’m at The Fairmont, and it’s a corporate situation,” he admits. “But I feel like I’m still being revolutionary in [my] thought process. I think that’s stayed with me.”
Though he’s been successful with his programming at The Pagoda, a venue that’s essentially allowed him to curate his own content, he admits there’s still a ceiling involved with the partnership. To program fully on his terms, Aguilar knows he needs his own venue, but finding that room in San Jose, one with state-of-the-art sound and lighting is another task altogether. Aguilar remembers a close call back in ’04, when that room almost had a chance to be born.
Along with Chris Esparza and Brendan Rawson, both longtime mentors, Aguilar was considering a spot in Japantown in the space that’s currently State of Grace Tattoo. They had the money to invest in state-of-the-art sound and lighting, but after fire regulations shut down the thriving Sofa Lounge, a similar upstairs space, that same year, the three knew their budget would be lost on retrofitting before they’d even have a chance to install the sound and lighting they needed. Since then, the search has continued.
“Where is it?” he asks rhetorically. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
With work still, to be done in his hometown, Aguilar trudges on with his eyes on potential spaces, hoping to one day fully construct a room where he can continually present acts that speak to the feet as well as the heart. Maybe then his mission will be accomplished.
“I see a beautiful mirroring of papermaking to mental health as a whole because while people can be delicate, people are also so tough and resilient.”
Bay Area native Chelsea Stewart dances in her studio with a brush in each hand, pushing paint together before it has a chance to dry. Her impulsive process leads her to work on five to six different pieces at a time, moving from one to the next. “I’m somebody who, if I don’t like something, I’m going to cross it out and start another painting. I’ll come back to it later.” Stewart’s youthful vibrancy can be felt as she considers all possibilities for a lifelong career in the arts. Outside of her art practice, she works as a gallery manager and volunteers with art-focused nonprofits. “I want to help others share their narratives; I know art will always be there.”
For the last two years, Stewart has been exploring papermaking, a craft she picked up during a virtual artist residency. “I think I’ve always been interested in the process of papermaking and how meditative it can be. You get your hands dirty, blend the paper, wash it out, blend the paper, wash it out…figuring out flaws along the way, then making the flaws part of the final piece.” The systematic and rhythmic papermaking process can take Stewart many hours, even days. As she works, she listens to a podcast or instrumental music in the background, such as Hans Zimmer: Live in Prague. Stewart creates mixed media work by combining this newfound skill with the acrylic-based paintings she did as an undergrad, contrasting the two media.
As Stewart spins her anxiety ring, she dives deeper into a recent piece mixing paper and synthetic beads with acrylic on canvas, fusing it to her relationship with mental health. “I want to make something that reflects my own personal experience, using these elements to say more about my life. I wasn’t sure how to express it because the topic of mental health is so delicate, similar to papermaking materials. But when the delicate fibers interlock, you create a strong piece of paper. I see a beautiful mirroring of papermaking to mental health as a whole, because while people can be delicate, people are also so tough and resilient.”
In 1996, a week before his studio space was set for demolition as part of a Redevelopment Agency project, Ken Matsumoto saw it—a “for rent” sign on the old North-Side Walnut processing plant in the heart of Japantown. It was fate and a journey that would eventually lead to the start of Art Object Gallery.
To afford the increase in his rent and the supplies to make the warehouse structurally sound, Matsumoto began renting space to three fellow artists. Soon, the idea of combining mailing lists and holding a show to expose their patrons to each other’s art grew. Matsumoto began erecting gallery walls in the expansive space remaining, and, in 2000, Art Object Gallery was born.
His first shows included friends and colleagues, “I would do a little group show” he recalls, “and I would know most of the artists personally. We were friends and I liked their work.” One of his first shows was titled “Depth of Field” and consisted of work from Santa Clara art professors.
Over the years, Matsumoto grew the shows and artists through word of mouth and recommendations. “I knew some people, and those people would tell me about other people, or I would be visiting a studio and see someone else’s work, or somebody would recommend somebody, and they’d come by with some of their stuff. If it looked cool to me, we just did it.” Some of Art Object Gallery’s largest shows would feature 20 artists at a time.
When asked what his favorite part of curating is, Matsumoto emphatically knows the answer: “Hanging the show,” he says. Installing the pieces and making them work in the space comes easily for him, which is not surprising since he knows every inch of the gallery—he built the walls. I know the space so well, and I guess I have a talent for doing it,” he says.
His least favorite part of curating? “The marketing of the shows is a little brutal.” He laughs, “The part of that I like the most is probably the announcements, the design of the cards, but that’s as far as it goes.” He used to consider himself an introvert, but not anymore. Matsumoto grins, “I guess it took owning a gallery to realize that.”
He also enjoys coming up with the concepts and titling the show, “I think that’s where I rationalize still having the gallery, that there is this creative aspect to it. There’s this constant struggle between doing something for the gallery and doing my own work, especially when the gallery doesn’t always give you a return on your investment.”
The article was originally published in issue 4.4, “Education.”
Artistic Director of Teatro Visión
As a boy, Rodrigo García was told that performing arts made a good hobby, not a career. This assumption was flipped on its head, however, after he moved from Mexico City to the States and encountered Teatro Visión, a theater that inspires, empowers, and dignifies Latino voices while also exploring the social and psychological experiences of Latinos. As its current artistic director, García oversees the development of works performed by the theater, including original pieces developed with community feedback, and ensures that artistic excellence is brought to the stage. He is captivated by the directing process—of taking a plain paper script and raising the words off the page.
“Little by little, I start imagining the possibilities, the color, the forms, the movement,” he explains, using words like “magical” and “spiritual” to describe the end product.
García’s project—focusing on theater, possibly expanding into spoken word, music, and dance—is still in its developmental stage, but he knows it will allow LGBTQ artists of color the opportunity to share through performance. He doesn’t necessarily expect viewers to agree with voices different than their own, but he does hope it will result in deeper compassion for other points of view.
“We need to have spaces where we’re able to hear each other,” he observes, “where we’re able to share our stories to create mutual understanding.” Not only does this honor the ambassadorship, but it exemplifies Teatro Visión as a place seeking to replace passive contemplation with “sparkling conversations between people.”
San Jose is a city full of ghosts. They’re in the shadows of historic neighborhoods and blighted buildings. They are the city itself, haunted by forgotten communities and ways of life torn down to make way for a future that is now the present. A city in love with innovation and renewal, at times at the expense of history, Gary Singh is familiar with the heart, soul, and even the ghosts of San Jose.
A world traveler, musician, recovering alcoholic, writer, and man on a perpetual quest, Gary’s history reads like the romanticized and tragically doomed histories of writers past. The hard truth is, happy people rarely make good writers, but Gary didn’t share that notion. When asked if suffering at some points during one’s life is the trademark of a good writer, he responds, “You want to connect what you are writing about to some personal experience or knowledge, but in the end it has to be your point of view and not anyone else’s.
“I’ve never really fit in anywhere,” he offers, reflecting throughout our conversation on his childhood, his years in music, and traveling the world as a professor’s assistant at San Jose State. Born in San Jose to a Sikh father and an Anglo mother, Gary’s relationship with his father was complicated and marked by long emotional absences. “My father was completely absent from my entire childhood. Physically, he was there, but not mentally… He was drunk the whole time. It’s sort of a cultural affliction for the Sikhs. They’re known as the Irish of India.” On his struggles with belonging and acceptance, he adds, “I’m sure that’s where a lot of my feelings of not fitting in come from and of course, I inherited all of his problems, like the alcoholism and everything else that comes along with it.”
At sixteen, Gary suffered the passing of his father. Gary’s mother ensured that music filled the Singh household, teaching Gary to play the family organ. They still see each other weekly, and when Gary first started writing for The Metro, she saved his clips. “I had to tell her to stop at some point; she would be saving a lot of clips,” he laughed.
Gary’s love of music continued in high school. Classes were no match for playing in a band and a hard partying, rock and roll lifestyle. Those were the days of the Cactus Club, when Nirvana and No Doubt would play the venue. Gary remembers these as the ‘good old days of music’ in San Jose. “The politicians and 21-and-over age limit killed the live music scene in San Jose,” said Gary with a shake of his wavy, shoulder-length hair. “The problem with this city is that it can’t decide what it wants to be. It doesn’t know if it wants to be a big city or a suburb. It’s all part of what I like to call the ‘San Jose condition.'”
For a guy who seems to relish the role of perpetual outcast and challenger of established conventions, Gary spent considerable time in a collegiate environment — first, as a student when he received his bachelor of music degree, then as a master’s in interdisciplinary studies degree candidate, and later as an assistant professor for the department. During this time, as Gary was travelling for work, he began paying attention to the interplay of cultural contrasts and similarities that intrigue him as a writer today.
In the theater of interdisciplinary studies, a major that allows students to make their area of study, essentially, Gary and his friends regularly held conceptual stage performances involving deconstructing modern artifacts and activities, such as amplifying and destroying a car, or frying an egg on stage. Gary still enjoyed playing classical music in college and hung out with “seven different groups of people, from the underground rockers, to academics, to stage performers and classical musicians.” By touring San Jose’s different groups, he met local writers and caught on to writing as a profession. It started with a few freelance pieces that eventually led to his weekly column, Silicon Alleys, in Silicon Valley’s most popular alternative newspaper. But the full-time gig didn’t last, and eventually Gary went freelance with The Metro, for which he writes today.
“You can’t justify paying someone for a full-time job if they are never at their desk,” admits Gary. Notably, all excuses of journalism being a profession that calls for being out of your desk regularly are absent from his speech. “If I didn’t have writing, I don’t know if I would be sitting here today… I could have easily ended up in jail, dead, or still a person with an addiction if I weren’t a writer.” Of course, while things could have turned out badly for Gary given his history, family, and vices, the simple truth is that Gary’s intellect and gifts for articulating the world around him pulled him down a sharply different road. But Gary remains… plain-faced…and somber as he reflects on ‘what could have happened’ — “Well, yeah, but that was just my path,’ he hesitates. “It could just as easily have been…a different path.” Is he saying this for my benefit, or his? As his voice trails off, it’s hard to say, but the specter of ‘what could have been’ is incredibly present as we wrap up our conversation.
Gary bemoans the dumbing down of reporting and mass communication, which is now widely acceptable. He calls out specifically people who blog and write for The Examiner. “Everything is just so dumbed down; the standards are now lowered. My friends do it, and they’ll call me a prick, but I am a writer. I don’t post something on Suite 101 and call myself a published writer; that’s a bunch of nonsense.” Despite the criticism, there’s an acknowledgement that this brave new world of citizen journalism and casual writers may be the future. “I don’t want to discourage people from writing. Everyone should have the opportunity to write if they want to. Some people make more money than professional writers, so who am I to put them down?”
As Gary wanders the streets of San Jose, he speaks of one day moving to India to get to know his Eastern heritage and his father’s side of the family. But India’s gain will be San Jose’s loss. Gary clarifies that if he leaves, it will probably be indefinitely. “I couldn’t go for just two weeks. I would need much more time because it would be exploring that side of myself and that part of my family.” Gary has wanted to move to a bigger city before, but said that as part of his ‘San Jose condition,’ he has never left. Maybe that was the more challenging path to take. Gary is at work finding lost histories and discovering new ones in a city in flux with its own identity, just like Gary, neither of whom can be defined. Gary’s work describes what ‘is’ — and so, too, must the observation be made of Gary: a man at the crossroads of cultures, saved by his gifts from what could have been, savagely observing the world and his peers through that same lens. He is. It’s his ‘condition.’ It’s enough.
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Read Gary Singh’s column in the Metro: www.metroactive.com/features/
The sound of Chuy Gomez on the radio is synonymous with the Bay Area. Some Chuy fans might also know him from his hour of music on CMC, a cable TV show from 4 to 5pm on local channels. His ability to connect with his listeners and the community have made him a popular local celebrity, and when he was unceremoniously let go from his 20-year stint as a DJ with KMEL, his already faithful fans rallied around him even more. Now he’s back in his groove at HOT 105.7, doing what he does best.
Tell me about your background. I was born in Mexico and came here before kindergarten. I was raised in the Potrero Hill neighborhood of San Francisco. I grew up with the radio always on at the house. I would call into KBRG every day to request songs for my mom: Los Bukis, Los Caminantes, whatever was hip at the time. The DJ began to recognize me. He invited me, this little boy who called every day, to come down and check out the station.
When did you first try radio out? I was interested in it because of being around music. In high school, I started deejaying house parties. I never really wanted to do radio. I’d pretend to be Lee Perkins. People would tell me, “You sound like him.”
I’d MC events, and this led me to my reintroduction to radio. I had a buddy whose sister was having a quinceañera. I didn’t know he was a friend of Marcos Gutierrez from KSOL. He came to the quinceañera. He said, “Nobody does this but me here.” He was the bilingual guy on CBS. So then I became his intern. Before you know it, I’m hanging out for his show, and the show after. So then I start driving the vans, and that led to a weekend position eventually. It’s crazy because I was just a kid hanging out with Marcos Gutierrez. Then I became a DJ.
At what moment did you realize that you liked doing radio? I knew that I loved music coming out of my radio. Just being there, it morphed into something. I didn’t know I wanted to be on the radio. Dr. Demento, Wolfman Jack—I had my local celebrities, I liked. And then being able to be in a space where I saw these people was something else. I wasn’t starstruck, but I was this young guy hanging out with these vets. I learned a lot of game from Barry Pope. He and I spent a lot of time in the station vans doing community work.
Radio is not just about performing, it’s also about connecting… People have grown up with me in the past 20 years. I’m almost like the neighbor that you know. I’ve been to your schools, I’ve been to your dances. You’ve seen me in different situations. Now you see me walking through the fair. Some of these people don’t know I’m on the radio because people have been locked into three specific stations in the market. Unless you’re scanning through the radio, you don’t know it’s there.
Now it’s all about grassroots again. Shaking hands, kissing babies.
When did you feel like you could make a name for yourself? When did you say, “I’m going to be more public?” I was always the radio guy that was there playing music. Then they hired Mancow to do mornings, and I think by that time we had switched over to be WILD 107. He heard me and said, “You have a lot of energy, want to be part of the morning show?” I’d do the morning show Monday through Friday. I’d be the street team guy, the morning show ambassador. I’d do call-ins to the station. It got me out in front of the people. Chuy became almost a personality himself. That allowed me to grow.
My girlfriend at the time got pregnant; my son was born in 1992. I ended up asking for benefits. I couldn’t get a raise to get my own benefits. At the same time, someone called me from KMEL. They said “We’re thinking of doing something, want to meet?” So we had a conversation. I told them my girlfriend just got pregnant and I needed to start making money. They said, “Well let me put something on paper for you…”
How’d you feel in that moment? I’ve always taken life day by day. Then, I asked if I could get benefits. Oh, benefits come with the job. Okay, cool! So now I’m excited. But I didn’t want to leave WILD because I liked it there.
WILD couldn’t match KMEL’s offer, so I took the offer. They teamed me up with Rosary. We had the Chuy and Rosary show. It was growth. It was a godsend. I started doing nights for about 2 ½ years. Then it was a weird situation. They put us on the morning show. For whatever situation, that didn’t work out. So then I got the night show back. Then I went from nights to doing afternoons. Then Michael Martin, who was originally my music director at WILD, said he wanted to take what I was doing in the afternoons and do it in the mornings. I ended up doing mornings for over 10 years.
How did you find doing mornings in terms of the style? For me, it was awesome because I didn’t have to do the whole bells and whistles… I’ve never been a fan of prank calls. While you’re stuck in traffic, you have music. I threw in some entertainment reports. We did great for the amount of time that we had. Up until August of 2013, when they walked in and, after 20 years, said, “We decided to go in a new direction.”
There was no warning? I went on vacation. I came back and worked Monday through Thursday. I went into a meeting Thursday after I got off the air. “We decided to go into a different direction.” Oh, so no funky Friday tomorrow? That day was my last day.
In that moment, how was that news? In radio, you never know when your last day is. You’re only as good as your last show. I never expected it. I thought I’d graduate to KISS FM, to an older demographics station. It didn’t sink in. I cried more when I left WILD than when I left KMEL that day. It was a little surreal. I had Disney on Ice tickets that night with my daughters. I didn’t pay attention to my Instagram that day. People were going crazy, asking “What happened to Chuy?” That was empowering and reassuring and it felt good.
When did you get the call for HOT 105.7? They called and said they wanted to do afternoons. Awesome! I get to sleep in. They kicked off the station by playing Nelly’s “It’s Getting Hot in Here” nonstop for a few days. It felt like when you fall off your bike and you get back on, and you’re back in stride. You feel good.
Who are your big influencers? I’ve always been an Ice Cube fan. He and Scarface are my all-time favorites. I interviewed Ice Cube in ‘94 or ‘95. That’s probably been the only time I’ve been in groupie mode. You watch him and you see his videos and you see what kind of figure he is, and then, oh my God, I’m standing next to him.
I’ve talked to everyone from him to Snoop Dog to Rappin’ Forte. It was an incredible time in hip hop. The golden era. The ’90s were the best.
Bob Kieve has been in a love affair for almost three-quarters of a century. Even at the age of 91, Kieve nourishes that love as president of Empire Broadcasting, which owns KLIV-AM, a news radio station, and Hot Country 95.3 KRTY in San Jose.
The San Jose segment of this love affair began in 1967 when Kieve bought radio stations with business partner James M. Trayhern Jr. Although programming has transformed through the decades, today KLIV is Silicon Valley’s only all-news radio station.
Back in 1939, when Kieve was a freshman at Harvard University, he started working for the college radio station and quickly fell in love with it. “I thought, ‘Gee, that’s sexy,’ and I went for it.”
After graduating in 1943 with a degree in English literature, he found a way to continue that love affair—he wanted to travel, use his ability to speak German and work in radio. So he signed up with the US war effort, where he was promptly sent to Spain and worked in the Office of War Information. The fact that he didn’t speak Spanish was irrelevant. “I wanted to get involved with my love, radio,” Kieve says.
He spent three and a half years in Madrid with propaganda programming during the war and later helped start Madrid’s first Top 40 radio station. To this day, Kieve says, “I am known as the father of Top 40 in Madrid.”
A brief detour from the radio had him at the front door of history. Thanks to his boss in Madrid, who went on to be chief speechwriter during Dwight Eisenhower’s campaign, Kieve landed in Washington. “I was the guy who had a very important job. I was the guy who drafted letters to people who celebrated their 50th wedding anniversaries.” Copies of letters that Kieve composed, marked in Eisenhower’s handwriting, adorn Kieve’s office walls. “Eisenhower edited them. He wanted it his way.”
After serving under press secretary James C. Hagerty in the early 1950s, Kieve returned to local radio in New York state, in “Rottenchester,” as he put it. After several years, when that station was sold, he and a couple of coworkers decided to buy their own radio station. “We didn’t know where the hell we were going to get one,” he says. They got word that one was available “somewhere near San Francisco.” That “somewhere” was San Jose, and he has continued in radio ever since.
A now-familiar KLIV voice was on the air back then. “John McLeod was the only person sitting in the studio on July 1, 1967, when I first took the key and opened the radio station,” Kieve says. Today, McLeod reports weekday traffic from 6 to 10 am and 3 to 7 pm. Empire Broadcasting now has 50 full- and part-time employees.
The programming has changed over the years. First, surfer music (think Beach Boys) led the play list, then Top 40 and disco. At one point, “the music of your life” had its turn (that translates into Sinatra and ballads; “That didn’t work,” Kieve recalls), and eventually, news radio.
The news radio format has stuck since 1982, concentrating on San Jose news, weather, traffic, and sports. KLIV broadcasts all San Jose Earthquakes games as well as San Jose State University football and basketball. “It’s working, but it’s not a money maker,” Kieve concedes. “KLIV is a station that we like to see break even. We’re trying to establish ourselves as the San Jose station. If we’re going to go all news, we better have a niche.”
Right now, that niche is everything San Jose. Approximately every seven minutes during the day, KLIV broadcasts live local traffic reports. “Look out for a garbage can on the first lane,” one recent report shared.
“Through [radio] you can communicate with a large number of people in a community and hopefully have some impact.”
A segment called Economy and Silicon Valley airs weekdays around 55 past the hour, from 5:55 am to 9:55 pm and various times on weekends. Find out about the local pollen count at 7:45 am weekdays, and stock reports that focus on Silicon Valley stocks air weekdays at approximately 25 minutes past the hour from 7:25 am to 6:25 pm. There’s even news about produce about 43 past the hour from 9 am to 6 pm weekdays, when Phil Cosentino from J+P Farms presents tips and information about fruits and vegetables during The Produce Report.
Kieve broadcasts his own particular views in his commentaries, which end with, “This is Robert Kieve, and that’s a personal opinion.” His commentaries air on KLIV, KARA, and KRTY in San Jose, perhaps once a week, sometimes three times a week—really, whenever inspiration strikes. Recent topics have included the gentlemen’s club downtown, Cindy Chavez, pension reform, local airports, and his own pet peeve, signs. “My big issue is signage. One of
the mistakes our city and county in general, make is that they restrict signage. They’re restricting commerce.”
Today, even after 74 years in the business, Kieve does not have all of the answers and ponders the future of radio. “It’s going to have to morph in some way because of the presence of the Internet,” he says. To that end, Empire Broadcasting has embraced the World Wide Web and has three Internet-only stations: head to everybodysmusic.com, where you’ll find Beethoven Only, KRTY Classic (country), and Big Band Central.
“I was looking for something at the time. I realized it was possible to have other radio stations to take advantage of the Internet. Wouldn’t it be sexy to have all Beethoven?” He says that station has more listeners tuning in from Europe than it does here in the United States.
So why does he love radio? “The fact that through it you can communicate with a large number of people in a community and hopefully have some impact.”
Kieve’s own personal impact won’t end anytime soon, despite turning 92 in November. “I really don’t have my eye on retiring. What the hell would I do?”
There are two types of people in the world: One type dreams lofty dreams and does nothing with those dreams; the second type chases down their dreams and makes them happen. I recently sat down with two dream chasers, Irene Kim and Monisha Murray, the co-founders of a local buy-sell-trade clothing store, Black and Brown. Our conversation centered around their original motivation and future hopes for their store. Their story is as eclectic as their products.
Thank you for having us here in your boutique. We appreciate the opportunity to meet you and to highlight your business, but also to highlight the different and unique things that both of you as co-founders/owners are doing here in the community.
CONTENT: I’d like to start by asking both of you to share the history of Black and Brown and what led you to start this business together?
BLACK AND BROWN IRENE: We have known each other for about ten years now, we met when I started working at CrossRoads–from there, we became really good friends and have lived in different cities together. We moved to Santa Cruz together and then to San Francisco and that’s where the idea came to be. Monisha moved to New York, but before she moved she knew that she wanted to open a store.
BLACK AND BROWN MONISHA: I moved to New York and was conspiring to open a store in New York and just realized that for myself that I was more of a West Coast person-plus I didn’t have family in NY. I bought a bunch of stock from a great hook up in New York and brought everything back to San Jose. My original partner opened a store in San Francisco. I wanted to open up a store in San Jose. My friendship with Irene and our mutual feeling that SJ needed something like Black and Brown was the genesis of our partnership.
CONTENT: When you say you felt like San Jose needed something new, something different—what made you feel it was a new fashion venture that was needed?
BLACK AND BROWN MONISHA: I have always just had a knack for fashion and ownership/management. I worked for a company for a few years doing the same exact thing and then straight away worked at an airport and then went to NY and found myself doing the same thing and moving up in management. It just showed me my potential of what I could do and then I just figured I needed to bring it here. Both of us were born and raised here, so we’ve seen a lot of shops coming and going: there was Channel 1 on the Alameda, and it was amazing; it was huge and had events and hosted bands, along with a coffee shop. We have a lot of heart and we have a lot of passion for what we do—we love what we do—it makes sense that we’d do it here.
BLACK AND BROWN IRENE: I think, too, that fashion can go so many different ways. I think that just being a buy-sell-trade company, we never get tired of seeing these pieces, and when we see vintage pieces, we go “oh my gosh”—we still get excited. I think that’s how you know you’re doing what you love.
CONTENT: What makes Black and Brown so unique?
BLACK AND BROWN MONISHA: Well, what we’ve created here is our skills that we’ve learned as well as brought ourselves to the table. I feel like that’s what makes us unique is adding that element of ourselves.
For myself, working for a corporation, it was very structured, and we could only buy certain things. And then working for an independent in NY it was a free for all. It was like the things I was told not to buy, it was like “buy this, its amazing and this is great”. So, it really shook me up and opened my eyes at the same time, and it opened myself up to so many amazing things. I feel like what we’re bringing is are experiences. We both lived in Santa Cruz, San Francisco, definitely San Jose, and then me going out to NY, its like we always say, “we collected from every city and we are bringing that here. So we’re feeding a lot of different types of styles. We just collected things we’ve seen that were missing in these other places and made it all cohesive into one.
CONTENT: You do take in garments and then trick them out?
BLACK AND BROWN MONISHA: Oh yeah, we’re crazy. We were laughing the other day because that evolved from being poor. We were laughing because we were going through our own little timeline and sketching through just saying “wow”. “Flipping” is one of our main focuses: reconstructive vintage, whether it is altering it or shortening it, it just gives it a whole new fresh look, it gives it a practical wear. Things back in the 70’s were really long or odd lengths so it makes it a bit easier for girls to function and work with if it’s a little bit shorter and more modern. We did it very minimally—just making a few pieces and our customers really liked our “flipped” stuff—they really caught onto it; now it’s the staple of our store. It’s a bit of a higher price point but nothing crazy because we are really about being practical, but we are investing a lot of our time along with running a business to give these special elements to our customers.
CONTENT: How have things changed, and how have things stayed the same? What’s still true from day one?
BLACK AND BROWN IRENE: Well, I definitely feel like the essence of the store, just our original idea of what we wanted, has stayed the same. We still want to provide something unique and different to our customers along with mainstream options. Definitely, the actual space has changed a bit. Since we opened, we’ve doubled the size of our space. We acquired the backspace, and we knocked down the walls ourselves. I think it was a blessing that it happened—it wasn’t something that we planned for, but when the opportunity arose, we definitely went for it.
CONTENT: It’s a beautiful store THAT OUR READERS SHOULD CHECK OUT. You are not only about fashion (clothing, shoes, and accessories); there is a very unique aspect at the back of the store: the art studio. What’s the reason behind having an art studio in the store?12
BLACK AND BROWN MONISHA: When we opened, we added the elements of art. We’re around so many creative people that it was just something we wanted to add as an element. They are so intertwined, FASHION AND ART, you know, they are forms of expression and that expression is limitless. So I think that’s part of why we added the gallery. When we didn’t have the gallery space, we had a wall, and we featured local artists’ work. And when we expanded it was like whoa now we have a 1000sq.ft. gallery. We’ve actually built a reputation now, a following for our gallery. Last year it was booked all year—which was a first. I feel like our studio is for up-and-coming artists, artists that maybe didn’t go to school but are amazing; it’s a place for them to put their work up and let it be shown, and we have had a lot of success with it.
BLACK AND BROWN IRENE: I think that when artists have art shows here, it feels like home. It is a very comfortable environment, and I feel like, as people, we are very open to all different types of art and genres. I feel that is one reason the skating community has made us their outlet for art. We make it easy for them: put it up, and then we’ll have an art reception—it’s organic and really comfortable and fun that way.
BLACK and BROWN 751 W. San Carlos St San Jose, CA 95126 (408) 298-1970
When discussing his career, Paulo “Cutso” Bello says “we” almost as often as “I”—a nod to the collaborative spirit he brings to DJ’ing.
Cutso’s uncle let him loose on a turntable as early as age eight. “He was teaching me with Kraftwerk and Pet Shop Boys records,” he recalls. “I grew up around it.” By the time he was a teenager, he had entrenched himself in the San Jose DJ scene. “We learned how to set up speakers, DJ weddings…we learned how to scratch, do battle tricks, and it all shows in what is considered a Bay Area DJ style. Very involved and very skill-heavy.”
That “we” is the Bangerz, a six-person production group comprising Cutso and fellow DJs Goldenchyld, Replay, Nick Ngo, Squareweezy, and G-Wrex. The group originally formed in 1998, when they were in high school. They began by doing battles together, and they’ve remained connected ever since.
“There are so many creative people, it’s only a matter of time before they start crossing paths and making something.”
Their first break came working with the JabbaWockeeZ, winners of MTV’s America’s Best Dance Crew in 2008. That win earned the dancers a show in Las Vegas, for which the Bangerz produced the music. Cutso tried a stint in Vegas, too, but soon returned to his roots, where he felt he had more creative freedom. “Over there…they only want to hear certain things at the club,” he explains.
In 2010, a DJ collaboration at the SubZero Festival with San Jose Taiko became the stuff of legend. The unlikely combination worked, says Cutso, because “we both share the same raw energy.”
Today, Cutso is connected to as many projects as ever. In addition to regular nightclub gigs, he formed the San Jose chapter of Motown on Mondays, spinning classic R&B and future soul tunes at The Continental every week; he co-hosts a Saturday night show on Wild 94.9 called Rebel Pop Radio, featuring cuts by nationally touring DJs; and he continues to record with other musicians, from underground rapper Lyrics Born to local star Anya.
Cutso is hoping his work helps push the envelope in the South Bay. “We’re driving a scene in San Jose where it’s progressive music, progressive technology, progressive art. We’re doing everything we can to set the climate for that.”
“Everyone here is open,” he continues. “Everyone here is hungry, everyone here is looking to create something new. The culture is rich. There are so many creative people, it’s only a matter of time before they start crossing paths and making something.”
When they do, DJ Cutso will be there with the perfect soundtrack.
Joe Miller has always had a thing for words. As owner and principal designer of graphic design firm, Joe Miller’s Company, he specializes in “identity and brand development through graphic, typographic, and environmental design.” Miller has worked with companies like Atari, HP, and The New York Times, as well as several local organizations. As Lecturer in Graphic Design at San Jose State University, he shares his love of graphic design and typography with students three times a week. Miller is also the president of the Board of Directors for Works/San José, an art and performance center located downtown. If all that wasn’t enough on his plate, Miller is also a spoken word performer and poet.
How did you come to San Jose?
It’s not easy. I grew up in the East Bay, in Richmond, and went to high school there. At the urging of an art teacher, I went to San Jose State. I was into words and I thought maybe I’d be a journalism or art major and then I saw this graphic design program, At the time there were only two in the state. I graduated in ‘83 from San Jose State. I was the first person in my family to go to a four year university. My mom was always really encouraging about that.
How did you get into teaching at SJSU?
In 1988, I got a call, “Sam Smidt said you’d be great at teaching, would you like to come in and talk?” Teaching always sounded like a great thing.
I had no idea if I could teach. I interviewed my old teachers. I went out talking to them, and I went out talking to alumni that I knew. Teaching started to work out right away. The student response was great to my thoughts and it was really fun to see that activity. I think for me, it balanced out my office. Now I have three really full days of teaching. The other days I run my office.
As you’re working with students, how do you help someone who is young and wants to be a graphic artist? How do you teach them that you have to do hard work?
First, you gotta do your hard work. No matter what’s going on in the economy, people are going to notice you if you’re doing hard work. During the dot com bubble, we were getting people recruited away from us, eager to leave school or sign a contract when they graduated to go work on websites. You go from that to times like in the ‘90s when it’s super competitive and all those people who didn’t finish college are going back to college.
And then the “sexiness” of graphic design as a major really boomed, too. Don’t you think?
Now it’s part of the national lexicon. Everyone has an idea of what design is. When I went to school, my brothers were supportive, but later they would tell me, ‘We couldn’t imagine what you were going to do, we couldn’t imagine what graphic design was.
Joe Miller’s Company came out of the ashes, rising out of other companies’ misfortune. Are students right now kind of nervous?
Graphic design is a pretty impacted industry, but I’m amazed at the number of places that are hiring. There’s a lot of business spending. They’re not spending tons, but they’ve got more to spend. Basically, something’s going to happen for students who do the work and have the goods.
For you, what’s it like managing the creative and business sides of your own company?
I’ve been super lucky with having clients follow me mostly. That’s pretty unusual. I’m trying to think about that more, lately. On the business side, typically a design firm has to spend 20 percent of their resources going after the next thing. That’s generally standard. I’ve been really lucky that projects have rolled into other things. It’s all about the people you meet.
On the business side of things, I’m just pathetic. My clients email me three times to invoice them. I’m trying to take care of the next thing, and I always want to get the creative work out.
“It all comes down to the space that the typography occupies.”
You started Makeshift Design School at SJSU. Was it your idea?
Yeah. The students had a portfolio class and an exhibit. It was a one-night thing put together called the design mixer. Students would put up their work for one night, and everyone would come. People from the field of design would come, too. It was just to show the work, a portfolio show. When I was offered the class, I said I’d love to do it, but I want to turn it into a real exhibition that stands on its own. It would be a design exhibition that would show their work, but the thing itself would be the thing they produce. Now that’s become the standard. This is more of a production.
Do you think that helps students be prepare for th ereal workd since it is more collaborative than just showing your own work?
Yes, and also to be less isolated about it. I really wanted to get them to do some sort of storytelling – to be dispassionate about showing their own work. It’s so painful to take something out, but you’ve got to learn [how] to not show something.
In terms of your work, what’s your favorite thing?
Typography is my favorite thing. I like dealing with things in type that are not like destroying the type. Not necessarily always deconstructing it, but doing things that are new to me. You can work it into signage or an exhibit. Some of those things look simple and you’re mocking it up for the client.
Works/San José has been this place that has been very open to anything even when I wasn’t on their board of directors. They were always pretty much encouraging. Those adventures where I don’t know what’s going to happen necessarily are really fun. At the same time, I like very straightforward type, very grid-oriented. I like bouncing back and forth between those things, deconstructed and readability.
Do you find that as an artist you have this pull towards a safe zone in a way that you go back to? Do you find yourself going down a similar path all the time?
There is a starting point like that where I start in my safe zone, and then I go, ‘Well, that is too safe, I’ve gotta try to get out of that.’ Not just for the adventure, personally, but for whatever the utility of the thing is. You’ve got to make it more tailored to the situation.
That’s maybe the hardest thing about the business aspect of things: getting a client to buy into the thought that the uniqueness of something is for their benefit. You don’t want to look like these four other places look because that’s not gonna help you. Uniqueness isn’t a bad thing.
Talk about the design scene here in San Jose…
San Francisco has always been the design and cultural focus of the Bay Area. The sports focus, too. There’s a lot less going on here, in those realms. There’s the in-house world that’s really huge in the South Bay. The San Jose scene is a lot of these things that are in-house. Here it’s a much more corporate scene than in SF, as far as design goes.
When it comes to typography, what rule would you never break?
It’s tough to define, but it has to be of quality. It all comes down to the space that the typography occupies. There is this conscientious use of space in typography that is what I would always shoot for.
What’s that right balance between where meaning sits and where elegance sits? Maybe there’s a time where meaning pushes it away from elegance, but you still try to stay very conscientious. I would say to students, ‘Have I attended to the details?’ If it’s supposed to be ‘effed-up looking,’ is it ‘effed-up looking’ down to the last detail? And if not, why is that? It comes down to that attention to detail and space. If you can master that, then it’s going to be a great piece.
