8 VANGUARD ■ FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 2010 ■ ARTS & CULTURE
A&C
EDITOR: NICHOLAS KULA ARTS@DAILYVANGUARD.COM 503-725-5694
PHOTO COURTESY PHILIP KUAMER
Dancing, prancing, papier-mâché heads Fun love dance-trance party tonight with the Bran Flakes, Velella Velella and Dat’r LEAH BODENHAMER VANGUARD STAFF
Tonight’s show at Mississippi Studios should attract all variations of electronic enthusiasts, from those concerned with labor intensive sample manipulation to those energized bodies craving funky synth and getting down to robotic Devo-esque dance music. The bands of interest tonight are Seattle’s funktronica group Velella Velella, experimental pop act The Bran Flakes and Portland’s electro pop duo, Dat’r. Perhaps most importantly, tonight is one of Velella Velella’s CD release shows for their new album, “Atlantis Massif.” Both the band and the album are named after under water entities; Velella is a crazy seashell-meets-glassblower hydrozoan that floats on the surface of the ocean, and the Atlantic Massif is a huge 10-mile long dome-shaped massif on the bottom of the ocean. Unfortunately, their sound is far from the quietude one might imagine in the depths of the ocean.
VV consists of five members and many electronic toys, including an electric Wurlitzer piano and organ, a Rhodes piano, a Farfisa organ as well as flute, guitar, bass and various percussion machines. Self-described as electro funk pop, VV seems to reinvent funk music in only the way a bunch of white kids would do it: with more technicality and less groove. Though the entire band gets down on stage, whipping out moves never before seen on this side of the globe, it’s the pop aspect of the music that sometimes takes away from the pure funk’s funkiness. Multiple vocals, often high-pitched and synchronized, still embody a new-age indie vibe layered on top of electronic whirls and swirls, though the use of live bass is a promising feature. The Bran Flakes, veterans of sound collage sampling, have been around for over 10 years, originating in Seattle. This act consists mainly of Otis Fodder and Mildred Pitt and is re-entering the world of live shows with a thunder so great, the world might collapse in on herself
from all the excitement. After three years of hiatus due to life’s twisty sneaky turns, “I Have Hands” was released in 2009 on Illegal Art, the label responsible for promoting bands like Girl Talk, People Like Us and The Legion of Doom—and the response, if anything, has been greater upon return. So, what makes them so great? Besides the papier- mâché heads they wear to every show, the live animation, the dancers and general ruckus, it is the samples they choose to mash up that creates a sort of return to childhood. They scour thrift shops for curious old tapes and vinyls that no one cares to purchase and redistribute their treasures into newly formulated compositions that are both catchy and unexpected. One can expect to hear children saying cute things, older men saying not-so-cute little things and a sweeping variety of musical styles. As far as their shows are concerned, they both decided long ago to create an interactive experience for their audience, involving lots of dancing and free
PHOTO COURTESY MYSPACE.COM/VELELLA VELELLA
Velella: There's a lot of stuff in play here, but one thing's for sure: those bongos aren't getting any love.
giveaways. “We didn’t want people to just sit there and watch us play laptops for two hours,” Pitt said, “so we decided that if we’re going to have live shows we’re going to make them really exciting and have lots of audience interaction and dancers…The shows now have taken on a life of their own. They take us months to put together.” One can expect a party, to say the least. “People sometimes, after the shows say ‘my cheeks hurt from smiling so much,’” Pitt said. “It’s such a fun show. We want to
WHAT IT MEANS TO BE SANE NWFC screens movie directed by Portland State professor INES KUNA VANGUARD STAFF
“Guilty Except for Insanity,” along with being comprehensive and insightful, is a particularly special film because it hits close to home. Not only does the documentary concentrate on the Oregon State Hospital, but director and clinical psychologist Jan Haaken is a member of the psychology
department at Portland State. The film follows a structure of clips from the adaptation of Ken Kesey’s novel, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” (1975), documenting all the “maddening” junctures along the way for those who find themselves between criminal and mental institutions. Viewers meet several different patients on their journeys of guilt, confusion and coping, along with the staff that struggles to help them. Sharp scenes of restraints and medications are contrasted with soothing music, all produced by staff
PHOTO COURTESY FLICKR: ROSEOREGON
Oregon State Hospital: Have you ever in your life seen a scarier building? Add the atmosphere and it gets an extra layer of fear.
and patients themselves. The interviewees tell tales of displacement tinged with the hope of one day reentering the community. For a release, the patients need to pass a point system set up by the hospital, but this is difficult in a social environment that is apt to cause conflict. Large metal-framed doors slam locked at every corner of
the corridor. The razor-barbed fences resemble nothing of comforting suburban pickets. Can rehabilitation happen in a place that is so cold? And if it can’t, what should we do? Whether or not it was intended as a call to action, the film does invoke serious questions about the efficiency of a system that, in the analogy of the film, is merely a net to
bring people out of that negative space for an hour or so into a happy childish space that’s not completely innocent, but a little dark, too. And just provide some joy, an escape. It’s like Girl Talk but more goofy and more fun.” Last but not least is the electro duo called Dat’r, made up of Matt Dabrowiak and Paul Alcott’s afro. They create the kind of music that calls for the spandex pants, headbands and, please, lots of sparkles. They sound like speed and teen angst. Alcott creates the electronic beats and melodies that are quick, numbing and upbeat.
Dabrowiak mans the vocals with a very childish effect. His voice is high-pitched and slightly disconcerting. Expect to move your body at impeccable speeds and obscure angles during their set. If you’re looking for a party tonight, look no further, my friends. This is an experience you will never forget. ■
catch someone already in trouble. What and where is the preventative protocol? One interviewee describes throwing rocks into windows to be sent to jail. After attempting voluntary admission to the Oregon State Hospital to no avail, crime was the last resort in this man’s desperate struggle to receive psychiatric attention. When crimes do happen, many people find themselves in the wrong place. It’s no surprise that the mass majority of people in jail are mentally ill, with a trial process as sticky as our own. To enter a “guilty except for insanity” plea, one must be approved by the district attorney. If unapproved, the person and his or her lawyer may try to convince a jury of “insanity.” However, the state is permitted to use psychiatrists of its own choosing in the prosecution, making the endeavor even more challenging than it already is. The legal process is exasperating for just about anyone.
However, for those who plead insanity, it is a particularly outof-control situation resting on the shoulders of the district attorney. In addition, if one is accepted by the district attorney or found insane by a jury, the road continues to be littered with evaluations by board members. Some of the patients shown in the film are former chemistry majors, musicians and fishermen. In a sense, they are the people next door. Their stories are surreal by all means, but nonetheless very human. Overall, “Guilty Except for Insanity” has only one downfall: It ends too soon. It would have been insightful to follow the characters for several more years to see how their goals were or were not attained through the Oregon State Hospital system. ■
Bran Flakes, Dat’r Velella Velella, Mississippi Studios 3939 N. Mississippi Tonight, 9:30 p.m. 21+, $7
Guilty Except for Insanity Northwest Film Center Director: Jan Haaken