DRINK: Halloweentown Comes to Hey Love

Cocktails From the Crypt

FREAKY TIKI: The Black Lagoon pop-up is a mashup of Polynesian flair and Halloween haunts.

At Hey Love’s new Halloween tiki pop-up Black Lagoon, spirits go bump in the dark.

BY JAY HORTON @hortland PHOTOS BY CHRIS NESSETH

Late one recent Monday evening, passersby glancing inside Hey Love—the flora-enveloped tastemaker lounge occupying the ground floor of boutique hotel Jupiter Next—wouldn’t have been particularly surprised by the scene. A typically tourist-heavy clientele was seated amid thickets of local revelers sloppily talking shop as a windowside DJ spun lightly remixed Siouxsie Sioux.

Had they peered a bit closer, though, a few elements might have raised eyebrows. The last-call crowd on an otherwise typically sleepy mid-October weeknight was weirdly large and looser than usual—perhaps a consequence of the vacant skull glasses littering the tables. Toy ravens were roosting in the ceiling garden—a new decorative touch—and skeletons lurked around every corner. Final orders paired hemoglobin-red mixed drinks with oil-slick black small plates. While one hesitates to identify any outfit as a costume, the DJ’s pointy hat and wide-collared cloak certainly looked like a last-minute stab at witch garb, and no matter how figure flattering her tightly cinched tunic happened to be, something other than fashion concerns prompted bar manager/co-owner Sophie Thomson to wear a nun’s habit.

“We worship at the Book of the Holy Hammered—complete with holy water,” Thomson laughed. “Let me grab my bible!”

Every evening for the remainder of the month, Hey Love will transform itself into Black Lagoon: an immersive pop-up lounge serving craft drinks steeped in the darkest traditions of tiki. The installation is one of 10 across North America, representing the most ambitious effort yet by high-end cocktail consultants Trash Collective. But, Thomson explains, her bar’s unique interior design aligned seamlessly with the pop-up’s aesthetic.

“Since there were already some lagoon features here, we could add on décor as we went along rather than having to start from scratch, which was nice,” she says. “All the plants normally here are real, but we wanted some twisting, turning, viney things. We’re maximalists. More is more, that’s definitely the big thing for us, and we just tried to throw everything we could at that swampy, spooky, kind of dark feeling.”

Pop-up bars come in a variety of flavors—from vacant lounges painstakingly imagineered to resemble a Diagon Alley dive (and turn crap lager into $20 butterbeers) to brewery- or distillery-led trunk show-style appearances. In general, the focus tends to be on what or where you’re drinking. However, like last year’s Yuletide-themed installation Miracle, the central conceit behind Black Lagoon’s long Halloween pre-party is all about when you’re drinking.

If the less-than-revolutionary idea evokes images of bartenders dressed like Dracula upselling “spooooky” seasonal samplers (the lazily lurid online branding and garish menus hardly help), the actual execution of Black Lagoon’s concept somehow avoids obvious gimmickry. Macabre curios and nods to the dark arts were carefully embedded in Hey Love’s vegetation, and familiar drinks along with standard pub grub dishes get fanciful takes here.

Though recognizably influenced by tiki culture, the signature cocktails concocted by the Black Lagoon coven benefit from the shifting parameters. None of the drinks on display depends on dry ice or other parlor tricks to justify its $14 to $16 price. Aside from the aforementioned skull-served Holy Diver—a more penetrating Scorpion Bowl for the adventurous foursome—drinking vessels weren’t the point. If anything, the $40 deposit demanded (and returned with your cup) to sip a Closed Casket from a ceramic mermaid proved an inane hurdle to enjoying the inventive brandy and single-malt scotch tipple: think passion-fruit julep, in which darker flavors warped the sugars toward sharper, spicier effects.

Among the house specialties, Blood Rave was an arresting brimstone swirl of mezcal, beet, absinthe, falernum and bitters; but the drink I’ll miss most once this pop-up ends is the Screaming Banshee—a yogurt-enlivened take on ye olde gin fizz with Botanist gin, Giffard apricot brandy liqueur, pineapple and lime.

Though the small “Bites” portion of the menu may look like an afterthought, the food may have been the pop-up’s biggest success. At just $10, the soy- and chile-glazed Vampyre Bat Wings’ daunting size and Stygian shade masked a restrained seasoning, gently complementing an impossibly moist chicken, while the Monster Mac slider was a dense flavor bomb and far more filling than the size of the blackened bun or negligible price tag ($9) would suggest.

Even at peak spookiness, Hey Love could schedule actual chainsaw massacres every other hour and still seem like the least scary bar in its neighborhood. No matter how playful the underlying concept or personalized the individual flourishes, it remains at heart a hotel lounge—a stylish, well-lit hotel lounge filled with mismatched and often benumbed travelers.

“A few of the hotel guests were quite surprised,” Thomson explains. “I tried luring them in with my bible and my holy water, and they did not go for it. Somebody asked if I was a Halloween riddle that they had to solve. I just wanted them to come hang out, but they took a drink and scurried away back to their room, which they’re welcome to do. Some people are here for a board meeting, and I don’t think we jibed with board meeting energy. And that’s OK! But there’s a little something for everyone here— delicious food and drinks, some extra ephemera. And, you know, I won’t be wearing a nun costume forever.”

DRINK: Black Lagoon at Hey Love, 920 E Burnside St., 503206-6223, heylovepdx.com. 3 pm-midnight Monday-Thursday, 3 pm-1 am Friday, 10 am-1 am Saturday, 10 am-midnight Sunday, through Oct. 31.

POTLANDER

Pot-Assisted Parenting

Raising another human is hard. Relieve some of the stress with these low-key, manageably dosed cannabis products.

BY BRIANNA WHEELER

National Parenting Week exists because parenthood is physically, emotionally, financially and spiritually exhausting. Let’s face it, one gendered Sunday of recognition a year is a pretty paltry form of parental appreciation. We deserve an entire week getting pats on the back.

Facts are facts: No matter how awesome and brilliant and amazing your kids are, being responsible for whole other human beings can super-suck sometimes. Parenting takes a tremendous amount of energy, focus and intention, and it can be easy for a caregiver to let their own needs fall by the wayside, especially in regards to galaxy-brain self-care. Which is why Parenting Week should be completely co-opted by stoner parents.

Even when using cannabis as medication, stealing away for sesh after sesh isn’t an option for most moms and dads, so having a stash box peppered with low-key, manageably dosed items specifically is a crucial part of the pothead parent playbook. So while Parenting Week may have already passed (it technically wrapped up Oct. 21), it’s not too late to celebrate yourself for doing the hardest job in the entire world: making good people. And if you’re a childless homie, for the love of Gawd, use this article as motivation to pad your parent friends’ stash boxes.

Hapy Kitchen Uplift and Relax Tinctures

When your kid has pushed you past your limits and it feels like steam is beginning to shoot from your ears, the last thing they’re going to do is chill out while you eat a thick bar of cannabis chocolate in front of them, satisfying as that may be for the parent. Instead, calm down with a microdose of one of Hapy Kitchen’s tinctures, which deliver a shimmer that can be maintained throughout even the toughest of days. When taken sublingually, these solutions can deliver highs similar to weed that you smoke. When drizzled over a bagel or bowl of oatmeal, the effects will be more akin to those of an edible. BUY: The Canna Shoppe, 6316 NE Halsey St., 503-660-5209.

Mellow Vibes Gourmet Potcorn

I personally recommend the white cheddar jalapeño variety of this medicated popcorn, not only because it’s delicious; if your kid asks for some, you can always say, “No, it’s too spicy,” instead of “No, it’s drugs,” thanks to the heat from the peppers—and you’d still be completely honest. These bags of popcorn contain 100 milligrams of THC total, so nibbling on a kernel or two every few hours can provide a very manageable mood boost without completely stoning the user. For longer days when extra patience and extra cheer are required, this spicy snack could be the key to your parental success, or at least the key to avoiding a meltdown of your own. BUY: Cannabis Curb, 4069 NE Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., 971-255-1542, cannabiscurb.com.

Laurie + Mary Jane Cheese Crisp Crackers

Laurie + Mary Jane’s savory crackers are low-dose treats that deliver a super-silky, mellow buzz. Each cracker contains around 3 milligrams of THC, which can easily be split in two for an uplifting microdose. All of this local company’s formulations use a full-spectrum, infused coconut oil, rather than solvent-based extracts or concentrates, so even at a low dose, expect robust, full-body effects that linger even as the buzzier elements of the high have evaporated. BUY: Gram Central Station, 6430 NE Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., 503-284-6714.

Portland Oven Pot Sauce

For all of the parents who keep hot sauce in their bags, consider adding a mini bottle of Pot Sauce, a vinegar-based chile condiment with 50 milligrams of THC per 10-milliliter bottle.

Available in three different heat intensities, these have the same complex savory-spicy smack of Tapatío or Crystal, while delivering a very mild dose (less than 5 milligrams of THC per dash) of cannabis. Bonus: Pot Sauce’s tiny bottles look like a cross between biohazardous glue and demonic eye drops, so there’s virtually zero chance of accidental mix-ups, unless your kid loves nuclear hot sauce—in which case, maybe avoid this product altogether. BUY: Pot Mates, potmatespdx.com.

Luminous Botanicals Sun Syrup

Sun Syrup is one of the most valuable medications in my pantry. This lemony, honey-thick tonic is the perfect replacement for traditional sweeteners in tea or coffee, and at 1,000 milligrams of THC per bottle, a little can go a long way. I’ve drizzled this syrupy concoction on doughnuts, French toast and even apple slices. Luminous Botanicals can be trusted to deliver therapeutic-grade products, the bright flavors never feel overdone and the business’s organic approach never wavers. That means its medicine always feels equal parts holistic and fun, which is a vibe many parents can use. BUY: Gnome Grown Dispensary, 5012 NE 28th Ave., 971-3462098, gnomegrownorganics.com.

COURTEY OF JON MEYER

Documenting the Why

Filmmaker Jon Meyer discusses his music documentary series Kontrast.

BY MICHELLE KICHERER @michellekicherer

For years, Portland documentarian and Talk Station frontman Jon Meyer has been filming musicians whose work he admires. It started as a way to improve his craft with hopes of someday turning the footage into a documentary.

“Eventually I had enough where I was like, ‘Man, if I went and followed up on all these people that’d be really interesting, to see where they came from and where they are now,’” Meyer tells WW. That ambition birthed his black-and-white documentary project Kontrast.

Meyer wanted to provide an in-depth look at emerging artists in the hope that sharing their stories would help elevate their careers. Take Cassandra Lewis, whose style has been described as “cosmic Americana” and “psychedelic soul.” The first time Meyer heard her sing, he thought, “Oh, my God. I’ve never been in the presence of such undiscovered talent like this, you know? Like, nobody knows who this person is? What?”

As with most of Meyer’s projects, one thing led to another. He captured hours of footage of Lewis before, during and after shows. And eventually, he decided to send a tape to his friend Marco Collins, the renowned DJ at Seattle’s KEXP.

“I never send him anything, not even on my own work,” Meyer says. “I was waiting for it to be something so good that he would trust me to only send him the good stuff.” Sure enough, Collins loved the tape. He came down to Portland to see Lewis play, and as soon as he got back to Seattle, he started playing her on KEXP.

Soon, Collins introduced Lewis to a media group, which led to her signing a record deal. “And I know all of that because I was there to film the whole thing,” Meyer says. From her early shows to meeting Collins to getting signed, Meyer captured it all.

Kontrast has also featured Talilo Marfil, the West Bisayan, Filipino American hip-hop artist Meyer first met at a barbecue about 10 years ago. “He and some dudes were rapping in a circle,” Meyer recalls. “I’m normally more of a singer-songwriter person, but I can beatbox. So our first communication was about 15 minutes of beatboxing and rapping.”

Marfil’s energy and story spoke to Meyer. “I learned that he used to be in prison, that he was trying to get youth off the streets, that his sister had cancer and Down syndrome and, at the time, he was doing a fundraiser for that,” he says.

Meyer called Marfil and asked if he could just start filming and see what they came up with. The resulting multipart episode of Kontrast (which features fellow hip-hop artist Wassla) allowed viewers to learn about Marfil’s backstory and watch him teaching hip-hop history to kids from elementary through high school.

“We’re giving them hope and helping them make better decisions,” says Marfil in the first part of his Kontrast documentary. “It’s hard for me to see how much help I could be because of all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, but the only way I know how to do it is by gathering a community with music. And I’ve been pretty effective with that.”

Marfil just released “Big Flip,” which features Swiggle Mandela, Taryn and JayR Tha Barber (and quickly went viral). As for Meyer, his ultimate goal is to get enough funding to be able to put out a new documentary every month, building on the relationships with artists that he forges over the course of several years.

“Every episode, even though they’re only 15 minutes long, covers at least three years,” he says. “I don’t want to put out any episode that’s filmed over the course of six months. The joy of watching these episodes is watching change.”

SEE IT: The third installment of Kontrast’s “Talilo/Wassla” series plays with artists’ performances and a Q&A with Jon Meyer and Wassla at Kelly’s Olympian, 426 SW Washington St., 503-228-3669, kellysolympian.com. 8 pm Sunday, Nov. 13. $7-$10. More episodes available at kontrastdocs.com.

SHOWS WEEK

WHAT TO SEE AND WHAT TO HEAR

BY DANIEL BROMFIELD @bromf3

THURSDAY, OCT. 27:

After their Fairlights, Mallets and Bamboo compilation helped bring the wonders of ’80s Japanese ambient music to the Stateside indieverse, Portlanders Spencer Doran and Ryan Carlile decided to further explore that style with their Visible Cloaks project. This is strange, burbling stuff that creates an alien-seeming environment rather than simply evoking its predecessors—or worse, the jumble of aesthetic signifiers to which “Japan” is often reduced. Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison St., 503-2397639, holocene.org. 8 pm. $12. 21+.

FRIDAY, OCT. 28:

The Oakland, Calif., experimental music scene tends toward the witchy and gothic—and as that scene’s breakout star, Spellling has taken the logical next step by embracing her inner Stevie Nicks. The artist born Tia Cabral loves to float around onstage with ribbon-festooned tambourines and sing of dancing aliens. And though her music is moody enough to tickle The Needle Drop’s Anthony Fantano’s typically dour tastes (he blessed last year’s The Turning Wheel with a rare 10), the strongest impression from her songs is that she’s having a blast being alive. Star Theater, 13 NW 6th Ave., 503-284-4700, startheaterportland.com. 9 pm. $20. 21+.

SUNDAY, OCT. 29:

The music Ash Gutierrez makes as glaive is beamed in from a universe where Playboi Carti is an elder hip-hop statesman, where Panic! At the Disco is classic rock, and where formative high school experiences happen over Zoom—the world of a 17-year-old in 2022, which is exactly what he is. Yet he’s got an interesting, conservative quirk: He dresses like he just stepped off the Motown charmschool assembly line. If he brings back artists actually getting dressed up before they go onstage, he can retire knowing he accomplished something good in this world. Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell St., 503-284-8686, wonderballroom.com. 8 pm. $25. All ages.