#pallet space

[streetartsf]

I didn't do it.

Irot. Che.

Photography by Graff Hunter.

The Pallet Space on San Pablo @ 65th Street in Oakland.

[chrissia11]

the illustrious Jupiter at Pallet Space. hat by GabrielSia.

[streetartsf]

Sometimes to stay alive you have to kill your mind.

Hope.

Photography by Graff Hunter.

San Pablo @ 65th Street in Oakland, Ca

[emchy]

Gallows Humor in a Gallery Space

Last night we (Vagabondage) played the first of many Second Saturday parties at The Pallet Space in Oakland. Located on The Pab (my beleaguered nickname for San Pablo Ave since 1995) it's a place of insane junk finds, accordions, old cameras, new art sculptures and paintings from local artists, and basically a blend of all the things you've ever dreamed of... and then the things you haven't as well. I went over early with my pal Chris and we engaged in the short-lived scavenger hunt for the three mixed media crabshell sculptures that had been hidden around the space. What came next was the first band, a collective of SF musicians that for tonight were comprised of a flautist, a jazz pianist, a drummer, and an upright bass player who then played a combination of modern experimental classical and 1920s french jazz. It would be easy to say they were completely amazing. Next a local rapper took the stage, and while he had good flow, I wasn't feeling his backing beats, and so took myself outside to watch in the progress graffiti art that some rad artists from San Jose were creating on the wall. As the rest of the band filtered in and I started pouring them the sweet homemade fruit wine from a keg the energy and laughter started flowing. Somehow in the night conversations ranged from the obvious commentary about art, into the juxtaposition of people who abhor the third reich but study it in a historical context and then become obsessed with it, to the casual encounters after punk shows with the still existing and crazy members of the Manson family in Northern California, to short film ideas that take someone from straight edge to boozer in three simple pictures (playing on assumptions and such), to a short film about inhabiting life as the three primary ages that you are and then all of the other characters being inanimate objects. It was a wild night for talking - that is for sure.

Once the rapper was done we took the stage and proceeded to squeeze accordions, thump bases, and break guitar strings for about an hour. We played our Dirge in Dminor while Flaw changed his string. We killed our new song Crooked House which may be the 2nd time its ever been played live? Certainly the first time in about a year. There is a hilarious thing that happens nowadays when I know we're killing a set - especially at a small venue. About one minute, maybe two into the first song, there is a row of folks (often women don't ask me why) with their phones up filming the set. Now I don't think I have ever seen any of these photos (which is sad - people TAG THE BAND!) but the phones up phenomenon tends to multiply throughout the show. And then... if things are going really well? by song 4 or so, the phones go down and people start dancing with each other. Often people that never partner dance (you can tell) are arm in arm giving it a go and spinning each other around and having a great time. That's my favorite part. When people start forgetting about cataloging the event and start losing themselves to the music. Well that happened and shit was it fun.

After our set the most charming girl went out back to do some firedancing while FrontJunk set up. Once they were ready they also had a helluva set with people bouncing heads and dancing around - my favorite was their closing number - Swing Swing Swing done on Mandola, junk percussion, and harmonica. It was brilliant.

Then I was turning into a pumpkin and so while the whiskey bottles were tipped, I tipped my hat and Chris and I headed out. As we were leaving a huge explosion rocketed out to the street with tiny dancing flames annointing the road. "When they starting setting it all on fire it's time to go" and so we did. Thanks Oakland. I love your crazy artsy wild west ways. Until next month, Second Saturdays at The Pallet Space. Always an adventure.