Treasure Fingers (Rio Room): Another big Rio Room Thursday night, with Fool’s Gold recording artist Treasure Fingers, who has remixed the likes of Chromeo, Kid Sister, Empire of the Sun, and Ocelot.

When I mentioned to a friend that I feel it’s imperative to make a stop to the dry cleaners a few days in advance of attending anything at this venue, she replied, “Ha, the douche is always loose at Rio Room!” But I find that unfair. I shot back, “There’s nothing wrong with well-dressed, professional gentlemen.” Can’t a guy just look his best without being called names around here? Sheesh.

The Lemonheads/Meredith Sheldon/Soviet (The Prophet Bar): In the less-and-less interesting conversation on the durability of 90s pop music, the Lemonheads always turn out to be the surprise winner. After shedding their tougher punk beginnings they would eventually put out two records, It’s a Shame about Ray and Come On, Feel,  in 1992 and 1993 respectively, that took adult album alternative music to a safe purgatory, where the main singles would be utilized on romantic comedy soundtracks for all of eternity.

But there’s a reason for that. As ridiculous as singer Evan Dando’s public persona could be (He was kind of like a drug-abusing alt rock Fabio), and as silly as their brand of radio-ready work could be, it is undeniable in its catchiness and charm. As lame as it is that they gave an out to people who weren’t really ready for Nirvana, they still sound pretty good every time you accidentally hear them. And “alternative” is still the most dated, awful, shamelessly pandering term still used by the media.

Big J (The People’s Last Stand): Good to see J a little more centralized. All those Uptown sushi bar jobs have to wear on you after a while.

Discipline (Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios): Now that Discipline founding member Andrew Haas is booking shows for Rubber Gloves with his own Anesthetic Booking endeavor, it will be interesting to see what effect that will have on the constantly shifting nature of the Rubber Gloves calendar. As long as he isn’t booking Ministry tribute bands (intentional or otherwise), this should be a positive step for both the club and the artist. But are there enough fans out there that share Haas’ esoteric tastes? Sometimes you just have to twist the audience’s collective arm, and my educated guess is that this outspoken music enthusiast is more than willing to do the twisting.

“Yesterday Once More: A Musical Tribute to the Carpenters” (Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center): I think I have found an amazing addition to my collection of “Intentionally Awkward First Dates.” Come cry with me?

FRIDAY

Fishboy/Dear Rabbit/Hares on the Mountain/New Science Projects (Denton Square Donuts): This was one goofy animal name away from being struck from the list, but luckily New Science Projects only contains a few party animals, the kind that are always getting Kool Aid and cake frosting all over themselves, like 8-year-olds at a birthday party. Someone hide the donuts.

Oh, and make sure to listen to this week’s Track by Track with Paul Slavens session, which features Hares on the Mountain. This is still the best way to determine if you have unfairly prejudged a group, or if your suspicions were correct all along. In other words, it will make you look like less of a fool the next time you’re writing off local music at some bar.

Glamorama (Beauty Bar Dallas): As DJ Blake Ward says in his event invite, “Daft Punk is only the tip of the iceberg,” when it comes to French house music, and considering what a minefield of embarrassing cultural hallmarks Valentine’s Day is, it could be much worse.

Thurston Moore/Christina Carter (The Texas Theatre): Please direct your attention to our always helpful events calendar for additional info on this excellent show.

Update: Z-Ro/Trae (Trees): Part of the ongoing ABN reunion that has many Houston rap fans understandably excited. Excited enough to justifiably call me out on Facebook for leaving it off.

SATURDAY

(Note: Good Records has two in-stores this evening, which should make for quite a sea-change when it’s time for the next audience.)

Anvil (Good Records): Thrash pioneers and stars of the highly-acclaimed rock documentary,  Anvil: The Story of Anvil, are here for a meet-and-greet. And to some of you local music-haters out there, whether you know it or not, you could very well have this film to thank for some band you never liked breaking up. Though some have called it inspiring, I’ve heard at least a handful of musicians claim that they wanted to hang it up after a viewing. In either case, it really is a great film.

Ben Kweller (Good Records): In-store performance starts at 7 pm and is free to attend. If you purchase a copy of Kweller’s new record before Februray 11th, you’ll get a special wristband that will let you in ahead of all of the other people who will simply download the record illegally, and won’t get such royal treatment. Like the scum that they are. All ages welcome.

Stoogeaphilia/Mike Haskins Experience/Fungi Girls/Doom Ghost (The Where House): Apparently a member of the band TK left a comment on FrontRow last week suggesting that I was against The Where House DIY venue in Fort Worth simply because I made a statement about a typical band-sourced joke that was posted on the group’s page. I was basically making a comment about a bad joke (which bands are notorious for) and in no way meant to discourage people from attending the show and supporting the benefit. There is no FrontRow conspiracy against The Where House, I assure you. In fact, I may even go out there on Saturday to put my money where my mouth is. With Fungi Girls and Stoogeaphilia on the bill, it may even go past proving a point.

Hacked & Slashed: A Night of Horror Scores (Zubar): These gentlemen must have a disturbing number of horror scores in order to actually pull off more than one of these nights, but apparently they do. Featuring Gabriel Mendoza and Gavin Guthrie.

Sundress/Blackstone Rangers/Slumberbuzz/Tiger of Bengal (Bryan Street Tavern): As a one-year anniversary party for the Dallas Distortion Music label, booking entity, and blog, this show raises at least one question. There has always been some controversy about whether or not DDM really is a blog, since they have a Facebook page, a Twitter account, a Bandcamp page, pretty much everything except an actual blog. And that wouldn’t be a concern except that they list themselves under “Media/News/Publishing” on Facebook. Why don’t you guys just get a WordPress or a Blogspot? I’ll help you set it up. Blogging is easy, guys. Anybody can do it.

So, yes, even though this is the one year anniversary of what is predominantly a Facebook page, these gentlemen have genuine enthusiasm for the goings-on of Dallas-area music, and that’s not exactly common. Plus, one of their writers accused another blog of ripping me off, and I’m always into that.

This lineup includes Tiger of Bengal which features ex-members of Soviet (already?), as well as Blackstone Rangers, who are the standout act here. Sundress will bring the most people out with their melodic psych-rock, however I have a hard time trusting bands that put the word “nation” in their URL.

5th Annual Fall in Love at Fallout (Fallout Lounge): Five years? Seriously? That makes me feel a little old. Let’s see. What jokes have I been making about this Valentine’s-themed event for the past five years? My guess is that it has something to do with how “falling in love” is probably the last thing you’re going to be doing at Fallout Lounge on this or any other night. It’s also a reunion for the veteran Dallas DJ collective Hot Flash, so that “good ol’ day”s crowd will certainly be around. And okay, I love them, but it’s a different kind of love.

The Octopus Project/Wild Mocassins/Mystery Skulls (The Granada): This show was destined to be big the minute it was booked, as the Octopus Project are one of the most highly regarded live acts in the state, if not the country, due to the multimedia nature of their performances. I’ve been told that an artists residency tribute blog might have tacked their name onto it after the fact, but that last-minute type of promotion doesn’t interest me.

AM Ramblers/County Lines/Old Snack/Warren Jackson Hearne & Le Leek Electrique/Whiskey Folk Ramblers (J&Js Pizza): Obvious comment right off the bat: No show should feature more than one type of “rambler.” That’s too much rambling, I’m afraid, and a little goes a long way. There is enough Denton Star power buried between the respective Ramble-acts to shake J&Js from the basement up, so beware. You may have a hard time making your way down to the VIP foosball section.

SUNDAY

Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra/The Angelus (Sons of Hermann Hall): Having never been much for Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s brand of incomparably bombastic instrumental music, I don’t actually know if it’s considered blasphemy to find the Silver Mt. Zion-side project to be a better band. Though GYBE’s larger sound could most likely sell out a much larger venue, the often understated work of Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra tends to be the more interesting of the two acts, and not because of the inclusion of vocals. There is a playfulness and a tendency to try different approaches in the midst of what is still some very atmospherically dense music, that is lacking in some of Godspeed’s one-trick pony dynamics. But such is the case with all great side-projects. The mood-manipulating Angelus will open, which is as suitable a warmup as you’re likely to find for this band.

FrontRow’s Peter Simek sat down with Fairey the day before he DJ’d the Dallas Contemporary’s Phenomenon event. They spoke about the artist’s work, as well as the various tensions, conflicts, and nuances – between image and history, capitalism and renegade art – that arise in a creative practice like Fairey’s. As we have done in the past, the interview with Fairey is longer than typical online content, but it touches on many things that are of relevance to street art, a sub-genre of the art world which in recent years is gaining popularity and institutional interest. So, we are going to take advantage of the unlimited space that the internet affords to run the interview in its entirety. Before we could begin the interview, however, Fairey was interrupted twice, first by a fan with a book he wanted signed, and secondly by a contentious telephone call from a colleague who was working through another project on Fairey’s plate.

FrontRow: So, you’re like the street art rock star. It’s not surprising that we keep getting interrupted. Are you comfortable with that role, are you getting used to it?

Shepard Fairey: [laughs] I’m still amazed that people are interested in what I’m doing, and I’m grateful for it. What some people consider, maybe, situations that would be stressful or chaotic, I look at as a byproduct of me being very fortunate. It kind of comes with the territory, I think. But yeah. What used to be nice about anonymity, if I was working on a wall, no one would come up to me, and there wouldn’t be people twittering about it and groups of people showing up. Because my primary objective is to get the art work on the wall and finished, but I don’t want to be rude to people. So it is great that I have a crew of assistants who are very competent, and if I have to take time to take a couple of photos, say ‘hi’ to people, sign stuff – the work can go on. But I actually really enjoy painting and cutting and making it happen. It’s great to see something develop by your own hand. Then also the process itself is something that is kind of therapeutic. So, there are pros and cons to everything.

FR: Tell me a little about this project. I imagine the Contemporary reached out to you. How was a framed? Was it ‘come down and do a few murals?’ And when you get that kind of commission, how do you go about beginning that process in terms of what content do you want to bring to it, and how much comes when you are already here?

SF: The way this worked, I had already worked with Peter Doroschenko, the director of the Dallas Contemporary, when he was at the Baltic Museum, in the UK. He organized for a bunch of the artists that were in a street art show there to also do works in the subway tunnels and some other outdoor pieces. So I knew that Peter would be someone who understood how I work and what would be a good way to go about it. So I just said, “Hey, reach out to people who might have good walls to offer. Smooth walls are better for me. High visibility locations are better. But give me some options and dimensions and we’ll fine tune it from there.” I mean, to some people who think that art is about obsessive control and micro management, for a street artist, you’re usually working in a very spontaneous way, going to a place, and just adapting, working on the fly. So for me to have the basic dimensions of something and to be able to compose what I think would work there, that’s a real luxury.

Shepard Fairey mural in Dallas, off Singleton Blvd (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

The one drawback of working in sanctioned places is that the content has to be approved by the owner. Usually what I try to do is make work that I think is delivering messages I want to deliver but without being vetoed. So for Dallas, I chose the themes of peace and harmony for most of the work. There’s a floral pattern that’s going down on a wall by the Belmont [Hotel]. This piece here by the museum [on Glass St.], there’s a bit of humor to it. It’s the huge arrow that says “attention,” with the peace sign to the left of it. It says, “This has been called to your attention so you’ll know that it has not been overlooked.” There’s humor, but I think there’s something a little bit more profound to that as well, which is the idea of finding common ground with other human beings and ways to live with other human beings, which often seems secondary to these selfish, antagonist impulses that we all have that may be called “instinct” in some scientific conversation. I’m trying to make pieces that I think are visually powerful, inspiring, deliver a message that I want, and will also be approved, so I can go paint them on someone’s building and the mural will stay up.

FR: In terms of the content, obviously the “Obey” and the “Andre” is always there. Some of the other images incorporated the stuff you did in Dallas, where are you pulling those from?

SF: The “Harmony” mural is a portrait I did of my wife, but it is not about her specifically, it’s just about this sort of peaceful female figure as – woman are generally the purveyors of violence in the world and our society, and I enjoy making portraits of women, and I think they tend to be soothing. The other one is a woman I call “Rise Above Rebel,” wearing a scarf – it has a vaguely Russian or Eastern European feel, but she is looking up and it says “Rise Above.” And the idea of rising above oppression rather than having your soul crushed by the bad things that happen in the world, figuring out a way to power through it and be positive. It’s not always easy. In fact, look at any internet conversation. But, anyway, that portrait was made from a sort of amalgamation of different references, it is no one specific. I do my own photography for the reference images for what I do. Some of it is just designed from scratch. Other times I work with other photographers and blend a bunch of different found imagery that will allow me to make an illustration that delivers what I want.

FR: It is interesting the contrast between doing a piece of street art that is not commissioned, so you’re out there and there’s that element of risk, and doing something that is commissioned — and you’re going onto a property that is owned by someone who has given you permission — because it does change context to a certain extent. Do you worry about how your art is being displayed, is there a concern about any sort of exploitative thing that may come off of it if your art is being placed in a context that may be counter to the message?

SF: How would the message that art should be democratic and should engage people publically, how would working with a building that wasn’t – maybe, housing something that I had a philosophical difference with, how would that be contradictory?

FR: Do you mean, in what way could it ever be contradictory?

SF: I just gave examples of how it could be. If I did a mural on the side of a building that was a factory for cigarettes, something that I don’t endorse, yeah, I could see that, but what possible way other than something like that could be contradictory?

FR: Well, I guess that’s what I’m talking about, that kind of thing. For example, the buildings that you’re on in that area of West Dallas are part of a major real estate development that has some underlying tension between the existing community and how they are approaching the redevelopment and the kind of changes that that may make in the nature of that community. So I’m just wondering when you come into a place, do you think that the power of the art in and of itself can rise above whatever the situation on the ground is?

SF: Yeah, absolutely. I think that the guys that I’m working with over in West Dallas, there’s art inside that building – they allowed some people to do an art show in there. I think they’re advocates for the arts. I’m grateful for walls. I think it is really, really incredibly, depressingly cynical to say, “Oh, well, someone gave a wall and it is part of a ruthless real estate scheme.” There are ruthless schemes in abundance in the world. If something is supporting art, I tend to think that that person is better than 98 percent of the other people out there.

Shepard Fairey mural in Dallas, at Sylvan and Fort Worth Avenues (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

What I employ is something I call an “Inside/Outside Strategy,” which is, if there isn’t any sort of channel through the system to achieve what you want to achieve, you bypass it, do it outside the system, which I have done for a lot of years. But I also think that the idea, if you have ever done anything rebellious, that you’ve somehow contradicted yourself to work with the power structure to improve it and infiltrate it and change the culture of it, that’s elitist, isolationist, and stupid. I think that everything that I’m about is about a process of evolution and being resourceful about the different ways that you can achieve that evolution. I got asked a question last night about, “Well what about when rebels become the establishment?” I used Nirvana as the example. When Nirvana came on the radio, I wasn’t an outsider-elitist who was like, “Oh, well, now more than five people know about Nirvana, I hate them, they sold out because they resonated.” Resonating is not selling out. Selling out is compromising your values to pander to the lowest common denominator. That’s not what Nirvana did. In fact, it’s very revealing about the people that dismiss Nirvana because Nirvana wasn’t a secret handshake to the club they made themselves the gatekeepers of.

I loved that Nirvana pushed Warrant and Poison off the radio. I would much rather be in a car without a CD player and turn on the radio and hear “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” But that’s just my opinion. You know, people get mad that there’s a Clash song in a Jaguar commercial. I go, “You know what, I’m not going to buy a Jaguar, but if ‘London Calling’ is playing while I have to endure this commercial, great. I’m happy.” The idea that people aren’t sophisticated enough to recognize that they can experience something in one context even in association with something else without having the two have to be parceled. I mean there are people that are stupid and will have a Pavlovian response to something because it is bundled with something else, but I don’t have respect for those people.

FR: When you come into a situation like here in Dallas, do you still go out and do other stuff that’s not part of this project, are you still interested that?

SF: Yeah, last couple of times I was in Dallas I did a lot of illegal street art. I think that something like this, I wouldn’t say it comes with certain conditions, but I think that as a grateful, reasonable human being, if I didn’t create those conditions, I’d be an asshole. I’m coming here, and I want to do all the walls that I’m committed to doing before I get arrested doing something else and create a bunch of backlash for the museum. If other opportunities present themselves, I always want to take them. It is not that I’ve been co-opted by the museum or de-fanged by the museum; it’s that I’ve made the decision to do this project in this way because the thing that is of paramount importance to me is creating work that the public has access to without having to go into a gallery or museum. The incredible irony is that the museum facilitated that very project.

Shepard Fairey DJs the Dallas Contemporary's Phenomenon event (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

So rather than being one of those artists that, “Oh, yeah, sure I’m going to take your sponsorship money for my art show and then bag on how corporate you are in the work that I do, or the commentary I make.” I actually see it as this museum is doing something cool for me and I’m going to be respectful of that. Now, I’m 41 years old. I’ve been arrested 16 times. I don’t feel like I have anything to prove to anyone about street credibility. I still love going out and doing work without permission. And even when I was young, I always wanted to integrate that work on the street in a way that was not unnecessarily inflammatory. You are going to make somebody mad when you do anything on the street because some people are just worried about, “Oh my God, somebody did something without permission; we’re slipping into chaos – anarchy! And the next thing you know it’s Lord of the Flies.” I don’t have that sort of paranoid, apocalyptic mentality.

I always felt there’s room for street art out there, and it is great that it is an alternative to all the advertising we’re assaulted with. But I also think that there are a lot of different platforms for art that are valid platforms, whether they are galleries, museums, a t-shirt, a album package, a sticker, street art. People get into this, sort of, “genre fascism” that I think is holding them back and incredibly unhealthy, and I just refuse to be part of that.

FR: I like that phrase, “genre fascism.” What do mean exactly by that?

SF: I mean, if somebody says, “This is how you define street art, and it is a genre about breaking all the rules” and then all of a sudden the cultural gatekeepers create a bunch of rules for it. The fine art world does the exact same thing. It thinks certain things, and that becomes the status quo. And then, all of a sudden, anything outside of that is unwelcomed by certain people. The same thing happens in music. You’ve got, “Oh, well that ain’t real hip-hop.” Real hip-hop? Rick Rubin was putting AC/DC guitars in Run DMC – a white dude with a beard from the ‘burbs in 1986. Nobody can tell you what real hip-hop is because real hip-hop broke the rules from the beginning. Punk rock, that so-and-so is not punk rock, so-and-so is punk rock. I’m interested in making things that are powerful, and ignoring these sort of categories and boundaries that other people put up. Melting those things is something I’m interested in.

Shepard Fairey mural in Dallas, off Singleton Blvd (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

SF: Illicit stuff has to be done more quickly, but I’m using a lot of the same iconography, a lot of the same images that you’d see in these painting murals would be in an illegal mural, but it is going to be put up quickly. And maybe the same colors, because I try to make my work recognizable by using a cohesive color scheme. But I would paint the pieces ahead of time in my studio and put them up with wallpaper paste and a huge brush, basically a broom with glue on it. That can be done quickly. But it’s a very, very similar approach. Some of the things that I do that would maybe be more topically about police brutality or the environment – things that might not find favor with a lot of people in anywhere, but maybe especially inTexas, are things that I would put up illegally but I probably couldn’t do legally. But there is an overlap between whatever I do outside, legally or illegally. That’s part of that Inside/Outside strategy that I was talking about. The entire program works together, but there are just different routes to putting everything across that I want to put across.

FR: Do you think of yourself as a political artist?

SF: Street art is political by nature, because it is an act of defiance: saying I’m a citizen that’s paying my taxes, I deserve a little chunk of public space, it shouldn’t just be reserved for people who can afford to put an ad in a space because they have a product to sell. And, I mean, it’s a microcosm of exactly what happens in congress with disproportionate benefit going to people who make the largest campaign contributions. I’m saying, as a street artist, and other street artists are saying, “Hey, we want to be part of the cultural dialogue even though we financially can’t pay to buy in to being part of the cultural dialogue.” But a lot of my work is about getting people to question obedience, question the control of public space, question the nature of propaganda, whether it is advertising or anything else. I’m questioning aspects of capitalism.

Shepard Fairey mural in Dallas, off Singleton Blvd (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

Everything’s all or nothing with a lot of people. I don’t want to dismantle capitalism. I think capitalism needs people to scrutinize aspects of it a little bit more, and it needs to be monitored and there needs to be ethical protections because it is a system that’s geared so that the more power you accumulate the more you can exploit it to generate more profit and subjugate more people – if you’re participating in capitalism in an unethical way. I feel like I use what I would call a “socially conscious” capitalist model in which I put money in things I do into causes I believe in. And even though my book is called Supply and Demand, I actually supply a lot the art I make under market value. And people turn around and flip them on the secondary market. But I want my work to feel accessible and I want to feel good about how I am sharing my ideas and making a living from it.

So my work is political in several different ways. Sometimes it is topically political. But definitely not all street art is topically politically. A lot of it is about getting attention. I wouldn’t be being truthful if I didn’t say there was an aspect of that when I started. The feeling of powerlessness that I think motivates a lot of street artists to get out there and say, “Hey, I exist.” It is so basic, it is such a basic existential thing: “Please acknowledge my existence.” I took that impulse, and I tried to satisfy that but bundled with commentary on things that I think apply to more than just me and have some social value. There’s political commentary and social critique in most of my work.

FR: It seems like there is an innate tension between capitalism and street art precisely because, like you said, you are taking part of the public space and reclaiming it without the means to do so legally. So there is an inherent infringement on property rights which are, in one sense, the underlying basis of what allows for capitalism. So you’re saying there is a way to run capitalism ethically, but at the same time, sort of off-the-record – on the side – it’s positive for society to have people who flaunt property rights and flaunt advertising and the entire economies that surround that.

SF: I think the idea of property rights, it just needs qualification when I’m talking about street art. Not all street artists have the same sort of approach and analysis of where an appropriate place to put street is. For me it was always public property, which is paid for by taxpayers, which, I’m a taxpayer. Yet taxpayers have very little say usually in how that space is used. And abandoned property, run-down property: things where I feel that what I put on that building or that space is not creating a huge problem for the property owner – and that’s because I do respect property. But I also think that there are not enough outlets for people to express themselves publically. So it is the tension between those two ideas. There are certain people who are like, “Oh, I tagged on the front of Bank of America,” or whatever. And as many ethical problems that I have with Bank of America, I still think doing that just because it’s about saying, “Screw you, I do what I want,” that’s very selfish.

I try to be constructive with what I am doing, that’s all I’m saying. And so, finding the grey areas in things, there’s a justification without saying that you’re completely negating the concepts of capitalism and property. But, you know, some people would prefer to feel good about doing as artists, they have to because they aren’t sensitive in that way – they have to negate it all, because otherwise they’d feel guilty all the time, because they are being really rude to people. I just refuse to do that. I’m not a Marxist, but the Marxist philosophy that “from each according to his or her ability; to each according to his or her need,” I think is actually a really beautiful philosophy. There are people that have very little power that still want to have a voice. Society having the sensitivity to understand how important it is for people’s mental health and wellbeing and trying to address those needs: to me, that’s a mark of a civilized, advance society. And so the less compassion and sensitivity there is for everyone, not just the people with the most power and influence, the less evolved and less civilized I think society is. But capitalism seems to be really promote that, this “survival of the fittest,” which I think is incredibly primitive.

Shepard Fairey mural in Dallas, off Singleton Blvd (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

SF: A lot of the earlier posters that I did from around the mid-90s to around 2000 that were inspired by Russian constructivist propaganda and Cuban propaganda, Chinese propaganda, those images are really powerful in their design. Propaganda has a sinister connotation because it is so powerful it has the ability to manipulate. However, what I was actually trying to do was riff off of a lot of that design, but in a way that was so obviously using the aesthetics of propaganda that it would encourage the viewer to question the role of propaganda. A lot of people didn’t understand that irony in the work. They thought I loved Mao and Lenin. What I was really trying to do, putting my work up in public space next to advertising, was making a side-by-side comparison that a lot of things are packaged in advertising that are propaganda in a benevolent way, wants to make you have a euphoric association of some sort of feeling, of “if I’m not into this, I’m un-American; this is a part of my identity; to keep up with the Joneses I have to feel this way when I see this.”

So, underneath that there is something very manipulative and in some ways sinister going on. Not that I think all advertising is bad, but that is the most pervasive form of American propaganda. But what I was trying to do was put work up that was obviously supposed to be propaganda, but with a wrestler in a star so that people could say, “Oh, that looks scary, that looks soviet or something,” but totally altruistic and benevolent. And say, “Somethings look benevolent, but if you peel back the layers, it is somewhat sinister.” Other things look sinister, but they are actually benevolent. Encouraging analysis of the agenda that anything presented to the public might have.

FR: When you take historical images, some context is lost to the casual viewer. So if it is a cartoon from the Prague Spring, an American would not likely notice or know the context. But there’s the famous example of when you used a skull and crossbones which was actually an SS emblem. In that case you are using the power of that image, you are re-contextualizing it, so it doesn’t have the association explicitly, but that image still retains something of that historical context. How do you deal with that, because on a certain level you can extract these images for their pure stylistic power, but on another level they are real historical images and they have real historical connotations and connections?

SF: I think the way I always looked at is was some people are sensitive to historical things and they are going to feel that a presentation of it is an endorsement automatically. That’s never the way I looked at it. I looked at it as if you don’t know what this is about, maybe you are going to be inspired to do some research about it. The swastika was an Indian symbol; it probably can never go back to being anything other than being associated with Hitler and the holocaust. Over the course of my career I’ve learned what things can create a dialogue that’s healthy and what things just make people mad. I think it’s all comes down to figuring out how to achieve what you want to achieve, what’s creating a dialogue that is a good dialogue, even if it is contentious, and what stuff just makes people so mad they just shut off any further conversation. That’s been part of my learning curve over 20 years.

FR: Well, with specifically with that image of the skull, which is unique because a lot of what you are taking from are Marxist posters or classic workers’ rights imagery, and here you stumble into this hornet’s nest. . . .

SF: The funny thing is I’ve now looked at the SS skull and the skull I used side-by-side and they are actually not the same – they’re similar, but not the same. I didn’t even realize when I made what I called “the biker-rock graphic,” because I was appropriating it from Hells Angels culture. So I didn’t realize that that was based on the SS skull. Other things that I have done have been inspired by the color scheme and the design sensibility of German propaganda, but it was about a general sensibility not specific iconography. I’ve never used a swastika in my work or anything like that. That graphic came and went until that guy Mark Vallen, “Oh, Shepard Fairey, plagiarist,” that’s when it really. If you do anything that becomes well-known, you’re going to have your detractors. So there is an audience that is looking for things to discredit my work. And that was in there: “Oh yeah, Shepard Fairey is a Nazi sympathizer,” whereas the context of my use of that image was based on rock and roll and biker culture.

Shepard Fairey DJs the Dallas Contemporary's Phenomenon event (Photo: Elizabeth Lavin)

Of course I’ve seen the SS skull before, but it is not exactly the same skull, and based on when I saw it, it didn’t trigger, “Well let me go see if that is like the SS skull.” It’s funny, there are certain people who get really mad when I present images of Angela Davis, because she is a communist, or Lenin or Castro. Nothing that I do is about an endorsement unless it explicitly says so, like the Noam Chomsky series, or the Bobby Seals series, where I’m saying, “Most of my heroes don’t appear on stamps.” That’s an endorsement. A lot of the other images that I make are about getting people to question how a dictator rose to power – and look at, historically, the tool of manipulation that they used with propaganda. So that image is kind of an anomaly.

FR: The Angela Davis is sort of the flip side of that. People who are familiar with that history will recognize it, and so you are aware of that, I guess, when you are using her, but you are playing off of her character to a certain extant. But then at the same time you are removing some of the historical context, you are not explicitly endorsing. Is there responsibility – I don’t know if that is the right word, I’m trying to get at it – to certain images, to certain images that still retain an element . . .

SF: I always looked at it like when the Clash covered Bobby Fuller or Lee Perry, or the Sex Pistols covered Eddie Cochran. I didn’t know those things before, so I’m being introduced to it through a second generation reference or endorsement from those acts. You think somebody has a band they probably aren’t going to cover a song unless they like it. But there are always people who are like, “Well that rendition is totally disrespectful.” Like when The Clash covered “Police and Thieves,” it was like, “White guys don’t have any business covering a reggae song.” But I love Lee Perry; I love Bob Marley.

I look at it like, once images enter the public lexicon, you’ve got to let go of a little sensitivity about it. In fact, I made my Che Guevara image, where I mixed Andre [the Giant]’s face with Che Guevara’s face, as a commentary on that exact phenomenon. That image had been replicated so many times – by Rage Against the Machine, a vodka company, every left wing college campus organization – how many of the people who know that image actually know any of Che Guevara’s real history? It has become a symbol of rebellion, but probably to most people not something that leads them back to a sophisticated understanding of the history. Making that piece, I was like, “Ha, hah, I’m commenting on that, I’m adding in to that,” and hopefully revealing it by doing it, critiquing it by being part of it.

But also, if a byproduct of that is that people are like, “Yeah, that’s kind of silly, maybe I should know what’s up with Che Guevara,” then possibly looking back, too. So there’s layers to a lot of things I do. But I’m not a historian. If I’m encouraging people to look at the history of what something is, I certainly don’t think that making the kind of work that I make that I undermine the history of anything. If anything I’m hoping that I’m keeping interest in history alive.

Portrait of Shepard Fairey at top by Elizabeth Lavin

A map showing the locations of the Fairey murals (Courtesy of the Dallas Contemporary)

What began as a slow evening of dance, with ballet choreographer, Alexie Ratmansky’s “Seven Sonatas” followed by modern dance choreographer, Merce Cunningham’s  “Duets,” eventually gained momentum with a worthwhile crescendo displayed in both Balanchines’s “Tchaikovsky Pas de duex” and Paul Taylor’s “Company B.”

For “Seven Sonatas” the curtain opens to reveal a black grand piano just upstage of the yellow-orange saturated cyclorama. After a few bars of Scarlatti’s keyboard sonatas, the dancers begin to emerge. Women adorned in long white flowing dresses with Romanesque bodices, glide across the stage briskly executing a complex petit allegro series. They weave their way through the men who are wearing traditional white tights with white romantic blouse. With all six dancers settled center stage, the sonatas begin to unfold. One after another they launch into a series of well organized transitions into the various sonatas.

What was billed as only seven sonatas seemed to be one perpetual sonata litany. From a compositional perspective “Seven Sonatas” was very well constructed. Ratmansky incorporated a wide variety of choreographic devices including theme and variation, generous use of cannons and working with dancers in pairs, trios, solos or as a fixed ensemble of six.

From a purely academic perspective, I applaud American Ballet Theater for reviving “Duets” the second piece on the Dallas program. “Duets,” by Merce Cunningham, may very well be one of his most accessible works for classically trained ballet dancers. The formal structure of “Duets” makes it a rare work for Cunningham who is best known for his innovative approach to creating dances based on a certain amount of “chance.” Unfortunately, with the bright purple, yellow, pink, and green lycra unitards, coupled with the repetitive and percussive musical arrangement by John Cage, this piece is firmly locked in the early eighties.  Composed of six consecutive dances, “Duets” is technically quite simple to perform but structurally as complex as any Cunningham fan would expect it to be.

The second half of the evening included: George Balanchine’s “Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux” and Paul Taylor’s “Company B.” Both well known, often performed masterworks of choreography. “Tchaikovsky Pas de deux” is a light and airy, short ballet. The performance here was extremely well executed; effortless partnering, charm and fabulous technique complete with precision, speed, turns and elevation.

Taylor’s “Company B” was a perfect ending to the evening. This ode to World War II, originally staged in 1991, includes bits of wartime dances that defined that generation:  like jive, jitterbug and the lindy hop. Accompanied by the Andrews sisters, this fun modern dance work was far better suited to the dancers of American Ballet Theater than Cunningham’s two dimensional “Duets.”

Episode 6 of Big Rich Texas begins on the golf course where Bonnie is at the wheel. Leslie is riding shotgun when she sees AJ the golf pro and asks Bonnie to pull over behind a tree so they can stalk him. At first I thought she felt the need to hide because she had a school girl crush and was embarrassed. But then I remembered how the women sexually harassed him in episode 2 and I realized, she’s hiding so he doesn’t run away, busting through the chain-link thug prevention fence.

Bon, sweetie, you have a PhD. And surgically enhanced size triple Gs. You know he can see ya’ll around that tree trunk, right?

When it was time to golf, Leslie unbuttoned her conservative shirt and suddenly, she was ready for the stripper pole her lesson. Quick, take us somewhere wholesome.

Like the soda fountain at Highland Park Pharmacy. That’s where we find Maddie announcing to Grace that her mother, Melissa, is finally letting her “date” in group date settings. So it looks like Grace has a job to do but she immediately notes a flaw: where is her typical $10 per hour babysitting fee?

Cut to the couch where Mel is…wait a minute. Melissa, I think you ripped your shirt. What did you say? I won’t even provide a photo. Go fix your top and we’ll catch up later, K?

Speaking of shirts, I’ve noticed something that disturbs me- mainly because it highlights the fact that I know way to much about this show. I just realized that every time we’ve seen Leslie on the golf course, she’s been wearing the same plaid shorts, switching back and forth between a yellow and blue top that she shares with Kalyn. You’d think that since the production company has been out buying throw pillows to jazz up Woodhaven, they’d have grabbed a few more things for Les to wear.

Next we take a head-spinning ride on one of those Style Network tricky transitions from stately mansions on Beverly Drive to Bonnie’s house with the garage in front, somewhere in the Lewisville/Flower Mound area. Whitney is studying for a test because if she gets straight As in community college this semester, her mom will buy her a pair of size Fs. I don’t know about you, but when I was 23 years old, if I had the c-word tattooed on my foot, was still in an undergrad program, and had a tendency to dump beverages on people at restaurants, my parents wouldn’t be rewarding me with plastic surgery.

Bonnie tells us, “Whitney and I are more best friends than mother and daughter so when I get bored, I turn to her.” If this were true, Bon would have the word VAGINA printed across her forehead by now but we get the idea, they’re super close.

Anyway, Bon wants Whitney to go on a walk instead of burying her head in a chemistry text book so she pinky swears, “We’ll only be gone 30 minutes.” This is where it becomes abundantly clear that Bonnie has zero respect for pinky laws and Whit needs some geography lessons. Because next thing you know they’re walking the Katy Trail. It takes 30 minutes to get there from your house, ladies. Then add on the time you spent walking and stopping for beers along the way and you’ve lost half a day, easy. Word- never trust a professor who pinky swears.

Cut to Woodhaven Country Club where the rented furniture and table linens leave us asking one question: Pam, you’re feeling right at home, aren’t you?

Connie is chillin’ with Melissa and Pamela so she takes the opportunity to invite them to her big family Bar-B-Q. Melissa is gracious and (maybe a bit too overzealously) says, “Absolooootely, I love Bar-B-Qs.” Duarte takes a stab at the kindness thing and says, “Me too, that’s my favorite thing.” Pam, you must’ve misunderstood, she said “I love Bar-B-Qs,” not “I want a coat made of puppies.”

It confused Melissa too so she immediately refocused the conversation, bringing it back to a comfortable level of negativity, commenting on how unfortunate it is that she’ll still be on that insane hormone injection starvation diet during the Bar-B-Q. Melissa shares that she’s getting back into modeling with Leslie’s help and weight loss is part of the gig.

Pamela didn’t like the feeling she got when she tried the nice thing a minute ago so she has to make up for it with a slam on Leslie, “I don’t like her body.” Really Pam? You don’t like her body? I’m a heterosexual wife and mother of 4 but this picture makes me understand Ellen DeGeneres a little better.

Shut up, Leslie is coming. She sits down with the women letting them know she just finished a golf lesson. They want to know who her instructor was and Les responds, “My little stud muffin.”

Stud muffin? That phrase went out around the time you posed for this pic, Les.

And since Leslie looks happy, Pam starts researching ways to cut her to the core, “Leslie’s really been bugging me since she’s shown up here, she says she’s a million-heiress and she’s always bragging about her homes and her golf lessons and her [using air quotes] beige Ferrari, but I don’t see anything that backs up her claim to wealth.” And she turns to Hannah, “Something stinks in Denmark, do you smell it?”

Pam, as we say at my house, “The smeller is the feller.” And to be fair, we’re still waiting on some indication of your [see my air quotes] wealth.

Back at the table Pam is telling the women about a book she co-wrote. And rather than bust a gut laughing at the thought, the ladies act interested and ask questions like they care. Duarte tells them, “It’s a, uh, political thriller, and I’m always fascinated with conspiracy theory.”

Conspiracy theory like the one where you plot the demise of Dallas’ global image by yip-yappin’ it up on television about being the most elite thing our city has to offer? Yeah, I’m always fascinated by that kind of thing too.

Then, after making the road trip to Plano, we see Leslie and AJ get out of the car and stretch their legs before heading into Pamela’s house where she’s only invited mean people that have agreed in advance to sit and watch while Duarte and her husband circle Leslie and snarl with their fangs hanging out.

But first, a little more from Pam on how she feels about Les dating AJ, “The cougar has killed the cub, she’s dragging in the meat, blood still drippin’ from her mouth.” Pam, I heard Ignacio was darn near a decade your junior so let’s shush, shall we?

But no way is Pam letting up. She approaches the dining room where the small number of guests are standing awkwardly while they eat in what is clearly a collision of inadequate seating and evil spirits. In her super-classy signature style, Pam asks Leslie and AJ, “So just friends? Friends with benefits?”

And no one knows the answer because we were too busy processing the feelings of pity, hysteria and bewilderment that overwhelmed viewers as Pam’s dress came into focus. This has to be a double-dog dare of some sort.

The awkwardness intensifies when we see that the intimate gathering has moved to the sofa to finish dinner. Note to production team: buy Pam some dining chairs.

Pam starts in on Leslie about how many homes she doubts Leslie really owns, while a nameless friend counts them on her fingers. While Leslie is responding to their questions, Pam whispers in the corner giving her cast-mate that 7^th grade cafeteria vibe.

Pamela pounds Les about commercial properties she owns and tells us, “Something’s up with this woman, I have reason to be concerned about Leslie. Everything she’s doing around here, all things are pointing to not legit and imposter.”

Pam, I believe in the psychology world, this is called projection.

What did you say, Ignacio? Oh he’s piling on too, “Leslie, the math doesn’t add up.”

What math, Iggy? She didn’t give you any numbers. You must be talking about this equation:

Pam is jealous + Leslie is richer – Pam is looking more evil than usual = Iggy better step up or move out.

He’s still at it, “Everyone that I know who has been in that business for the last 3 years is bankrupt so it doesn’t make sense unless you have a portfolio of about $100 million you cannot afford a lifestyle of 3 homes in 3 different states.”

Iggy, a) If you’re basing your expertise on your broke pals, I’d say that’s weak at best, b) I’m not in real estate but I think you have to have some rough numbers before you can determine the dollar amount necessary to maintain properties, c) Where’s your portfolio?, and d) Who asked you?

After the commercial break Pam is telling her guests, “Ignacio is skeptical, he’s skeptical.” Maybe he noticed that Leslie only has one pair of golf shorts? Anyway, he’s still pelting her with his thick accent, periodically launching into Spanish while everyone in the room pretends to comprehend except Leslie and AJ.

Suddenly Pam’s dress starts to make sense, this is some sort of Collin County Spanish Inquisition. Duarte is waving her tacky ruffled sleeves telling the woman next to her, “Something’s not right, she said she has a beige Ferrari.”

Pam, I too feel like something’s not right. For instance, why’d you wear that dress? You say you have a style team but we’ve seen nothing to back that up. Frankly, we’re skeptical.

Leslie and AJ had had enough and they graciously excused themselves for the evening. Pam can’t wait to debrief with us, “I think when they decided to take off it was because we were asking Leslie some hard and fast questions that normal legitimate people would be able to answer with ease.”

What like, let me see me your bank statements and tell me how much your house is worth- those kinds of questions? Yeah, legitimate people rattle that stuff off by request at parties all the time.

And they also say goodbye to guests like you did, shouting down the front walk, “Wear a condom.”

Back to the front facing garage where Whitney tells her mom that she made a B on her test, “It’s your fault.” Bonnie tells her the beer walk shouldn’t be looked upon with regret because, “That’s what people do in life, they have fun.”

Bon, you just don’t want to pay for her new boobs, right?

But Bonnie comes around and offers Whitney some help. Whitney looks closely at her mother and asks, “Are you being serious? It’s hard to tell from all that Botox.” Whitney, listen to me. If you have a daughter one day, you are so screwed. All you dished out and more will be thrust upon you. And think, she’ll have so much more material because your tattoos will be sagging.

Back in Fort Worth at the club, Kalyn appears to be paying tribute to Amy Winehouse via dramatic eye makeup that has no place at Woodhaven or in America for that matter. She tells Maddie how Leslie threatened to call her mom and refers to Leslie as a cougar, all while managing to hang on to her false eyelashes. Kudos, Kay-devil.

Cut to the couch where Kalyn is doing the Eddie Haskell with Leslie, “Ever since we met five years ago when you started coaching me, I’ve always thought of you as a godmother.”

Um, what was that? Five years ago? I thought Leslie grew up with your mom? What was all that a few episodes back about not having seen Tyler since you were little? You didn’t meet Leslie til you were 13? She’s not your godmother, she’s your reality TV fairy.

Next up, Grace and Maddie. They’re bowling with Zakk until Melissa shows up to embarrass her kid with an early departure, leaving Grace and Zakk sitting awkwardly. This is when we see sweet Zakk morph into Austin Powers, telling Grace what he really wants in a girlfriend, basically someone a lot like Grace.

Then an oddly romantic dinner for two as in, Bonnie and Leslie with no one else. Wine, candlelight, soft dialogue, and Leslie using her napkin to show what she’d look like as a nun. They tell each other how much they value the friendship they’ve developed and then exchange apologies for the way each of their punk kids acted when the drink throwing thing went down in episode 5. Leslie tells Bon all about the nightmare “dinner party” at Pam’s house and they toast to what sounded like an evil curse on Iggy and Duarte. This is getting really good.

Back at the golf course, Leslie is taking another lesson from AJ- same shorts, alternating shirt. She’s clearly not worried about the can’t-date-club-employees rule but he shouldn’t be either since in reality, he doesn’t work there. But we’ll play along. Leslie is hanging on him and plants a big kiss just in time for the club’s owner, Louis Scoma to zoom up on a golf cart and tell AJ to come to his office after the lesson.

Next, the Bar-B-Q. Connie is dressed like a pirate cowgirl and Pamela is heard referring to Leslie as a “goober.” Connie’s ex, John, is at the party too and Pam thinks since Leslie is talking to him that she’s flirting. Connie is clearly jealous irritated.

Pam heads over to mess with Leslie and is there when Kay-devil admits to being the one who told Scoma about the AJ/Leslie showmance. But you can’t blame Kalyn, “I was just trying to be proper and tell the truth.” And she keeps on flappin‘ her lips, “I was trying to protect you from making a fool of yourself.”

Send her back, Leslie. Send. Her. Back.

Ding dong.

Who’s at Leslie’s door? Kalyn, look, it’s your mom! Tune in next Sunday to watch the pageant girl squirm.

Image: Pam and Hannah of Big Rich Texas!