This is my second cover story, completely unexpected. The article is about the new arts group called The Brooklyn Collective and Charlotte’s Black Wall Street. I learned a lot about Queen City’s history when writing this piece. Thank you, Ryan. Vol. 3, Issue 7 of Queen City Nerve is officially out. If you’re in Charlotte, pick up a copy of the paper at your local news stand. …
Tag: brooklyn
“Made In Japan” is a retrospective of the late Jean-Michel Basquiat. It’s the first comprehensive exhibition of the artist ever in Japan. At Roppongi’s Mori Art Center Gallery, 130 paintings, drawings, notebooks, video installations, and objects span Basquiat’s whirlwind of a short-lived career. In the early 80’s, his career blew up. He became history’s first internationally renowned “black” artist. Though Basquiat was made in America, Brooklyn, New York, to be exact, the show’s title is emblematic of Japan’s failing efforts …
There are tracks that sound like a stunned body in perpetual fight or flight mode. Its skull reverberates from voices shouting, “get up… get out.” The neighborhood is a kill box and the “Only one way out/of course is man made/looking down the tunnel, endless/don’t see a damn thing,” Curly Castro raps on “Night Terra Fabulous,” off his sophomore project Tosh. He’s the son of Barbadian immigrants who raised him on planet Brooklyn but for years Philadelphia has been his …
Marley Marl 
Brooklyn Terry 
DJ Sarasa 
Artist Adano Takuya was live painting. 
Celebrating Marley Marl’s 56 birthday. 
Speakeasy is a monthly dance party that’s been going for five years. Its a mobile event held in some of Tokyo’s most unlikely venues. Places like Sasazuka Bowl, Hotel Koe Tokyo, Zou-no-hana Terrace, and RIDE have acted as elaborate backdrops that frame the party’s family-like affair. Dancer and promoter, Brooklyn Terry is the man behind these shows. “I started Speakeasy selfishly, because I was homesick. I wanted the quality and vibe that I could relate to that didn’t exist here …
I just changed out of a tuxedo from working a banquet at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Mayor Gavin Newsom was having a fundraiser. Ra’s ship was sinking into the pacific. On the hostel’s rooftop, the San Francisco sky looked like bleeding watercolors. Up came Black. “Damn, you summoned the blunt, my nigga,” he said, holding a long cigar full of the Bay’s medicinal heritage. We passed the blunt back and forth then he told me his story. …
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