byAna Paola Davila Chalita
Austin’s Gus Garcia mural one of dozens of art works that dot the city on the walls of buildings, parking decks, underpasses and fences — some created by non-commissioned street artists and others by professional artists funded by the city’s Art in Public Places program and by organizations such as the Austin Downtown Alliance Foundation and the Austin Parks Foundation.
Austin’s cultural diversity is represented in these vibrant artistic expressions, and the murals such as the painting of Garcia showcase the city’s Hispanic community and are an integral aspect of the city’s identity.
Attendees came from at least three states and as far away as Las Vegas make the trek to Bastrop for the seventh annual Cult Classic horror movie convention. They came to see their favorite, if not quite famous, horror movie actors and directors, and to meet new and old friends and like-minded horror aficionados. A number of the attendees came in costume. Elizabeth from the movie “Frankenhooker” was perhaps the most widely represented character; Patty Mullen, the film’s lead actor was at the convention. There were also several Leatherfaces from “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” and various versions of Jason Vorhees from “Friday the 13th.”
byAna Paola Davila Chalita
Of the six James Beard award semifinalists in Austin, three are Mexican food establishments. Comadre Panadería is nominated for Outstanding Pastry Chef or Baker, Suerte for Outstanding Wine and Other Beverages Program, and La Condesa for Outstanding Restaurant.
The James Beard Foundation, founded in 1986, is a non-profit that celebrates and promotes America’s diverse culinary heritage through events and awards.
Their annual awards, first given 1990, are often referred to as the “Oscars of the food world.”
The Broken Spoke faces a critical turning point this spring, as the Austin City Council considers designating the lot surrounding the Texas dance hall as a historic zone, a declaration that would protect the 58-year-old venue from real estate development along South Lamar Boulevard.
In November, the council initiated a proclamation naming the Broken Spoke a historical landmark. But that largely ceremonial proclamation, brought by Council Member Ann Kitchen, in itself does not ensure long-term preservation of the dance hall and restaurant. So, Kitchen initiated the city’s historic zoning process that would make it more difficult for the landowner to develop the Broken Spoke site.
“She didn’t want it to go the way of so many other historic landmarks unofficially named in town,” said the author of a 2017 book on the dance hall. “She wanted it to be here for future generations. So she started the process.”
Soft strums from a wooden guitar and the smell of warm tamales and green salsa that flowed together like a warm hug filled the air of Benedict Hall. About 35 students and faculty gathered at the teachers’ lounge at the University of Texas to listen to Crispin Martinez Rosas, who goes by the artistic name […]
byAna Paola Davila Chalita
The smell of spices and chicken had people lining up at an Austin food festival to get Shirley Newell’s Dominican food. The U.S. Army veteran was rapidly taking orders, flipping her marinated chicken and packing food to-go. “Food is my comfort, my passion and how I express myself,” Newell said. “When I was in the military is when I actually started cooking.”
Now, cooking is her livelihood. She started Phatty Boy food truck nine years after she left the Army as an automated logistics specialist. For some Texas veterans, opening food-service businesses feels like a natural step after their military career.
bySofia Vargas Karam
The scene looked like the Cavern in Liverpool, England, reminiscent of the early days of the Beatles. The space was dark and dank. Candles flickered, while party lights illuminated the work of graffiti taggers.
Amidst it all HONEY — the performing name of Eric Wieser — worked his turntable and manipulated his electronic mixes to drive his audience into a jubilant dance in Austin’s underground.
“I have to remind myself that the goal isn’t necessarily to be the king of the underground or the king of odd, cool, obscure kinds of parties,” Weiser said. “I make sure that I’m enjoying it in the time that it’s happening.”
Underground parties are private, smaller events that are held in secret locations for a limited audience. They consist of multiple live DJs playing electronic dance music that is much heavier than the mainstream tunes that are mixed at bars. These raves are usually an inclusive, diverse environment held at warehouses, run down homes or in this case tunnels. Wieser started After Hours, a set of tunnel events, after noticing a lack of uniqueness in the party scene in Austin.
byAna Paola Davila Chalita
Edgar Rico, chef and co-owner of the taqueria, hosts the biggest community fridge in East Austin, a project born of the financial struggles of the COVID pandemic.
“Hundreds of people a day were coming to our door to ask for food,” recalled Rico, a second-generation Mexican chef who recently appeared on Time magazine’s “100 Next 2022” list of influential people.
In June, Rico won a James Beard Award — the so-called “Oscars of the food world” — as best emerging chef, and his restaurant continues to appear on “best of” lists. That success traces to his love of the culture of his parents’ home country and a desire to inspire and help others through food, both through his restaurant and through the community fridge it stocks.
A name is the first glimpse into a person’s character. It, too, is one’s brand.
Names correlate with self-worth, personality and status. According to author Ralph Ellison, it is through our names how we first place ourselves in this world.
Three University of Texas at Austin students share how their names shaped their identities, often not without struggle.
In the years she’s been a tattoo shop owner and artist, Tina Poe has witnessed more body art studios opening, increased diversity in artists and more creative work being put out. It’s exciting to see more demographics being represented in the industry, she said. One demographic Poe noted was women. The majority of Moon Tattoo’s clients are female now, she said.
The Carver Museum exhibit, “Grooves from the Deep and the Space Math of George Clinton,” opened March 10 and will run through June 19. It’s the first public museum showing for Clinton, who debuted his visual art in a solo exhibition in a private gallery in New Orleans in 2021.
Carre Adams, Carver Museum culture and arts education manager, said Clinton’s visual art is an extension of his music — a singular form of eclectic psychedelic funk that he performs in outrageous costumes with his band Parliament Funkadelic.
The exhibit features dozens of mixed-media paintings made by the artist, album covers from his records, posters, videos and photographs.
Bryan Campa doesn’t attend Fiesta for the food or the alcohol, though he doesn’t begrudge people who do. To him, Fiesta is a chance to celebrate his culture. Fiesta, a festival that lasts for 11 days during April, honors the Battle of the Alamo and Battle of San Jacinto and celebrates the Mexican-American and other […]
Students at the Texas School for the Deaf in Austin, hope acclaim for “CODA” is just the beginning for better representation of the deaf community and opens the door for more opportunities for deaf individuals in the film industry.
byPamela Hall Vance
East Austin community activist Paul Hernandez left such an imprint on Austin that his image adorns the walls outside Mexic-Arte Museum. The mural’s completion coincided with the opening Friday of an art exhibit dedicated to the Chicano political and civil rights movement of a half-century ago that sought to end discrimination against Mexican Americans.
The photographs at the entry of the exhibit, “Chicano/a Art, Movimiento y Más en Austen, Tejas 1960s to 1980s,” capture Hernandez and other activists in the Austin community working to bring about change.
As venues, bars and theaters shut their doors and cultural funding dried up because of COVID, many Austin LGBTQ arts organizers struggled to keep their heads above water and found it increasingly difficult to connect with their communities.
On Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, Karl Anthony arrives on West Sixth Street around 11:15 p.m. in a silver Jeep Wrangler. He parks alongside the curb, turns his hazard lights on and sets up two amplifiers, lighting equipment and a microphone — all of which are needed to prepare for a three-hour shift rapping to the crowd of revelers, some of whom toss money into a box in front of Anthony. On a good evening, he can make more than $1,200.