page not found (chaos cooking)

oriana on 26 Feb ’12

space type: event space | neighborhood: bushwick | active since: 2009 | links: website, facebook

Like Red Lotus Room’s Shanghai Mermaid, Page Not Found is best known for one of its recurring events: Chaos Cooking, “A continuing social experiment where up to 60 people cook 60 recipes in one kitchen, four burners, one oven. All dishes must be finished in four hours while everyone is drinking wine, socializing, and putting delectable food in their mouths.”

all photos by Maya Edelman

It’s every bit as fun—and delicious—as it sounds. The last time I went, I ate: bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with gorgonzola, pork & Brussels sprout shooters with pickled cauliflower chasers, nachos, Persian-spiced truffles, edamame hummus, tiramisu, beer & cheese soup, winter melon salad, and dozens of other delicacies—all made on the spot, all at once. I made endive stuffed with goat cheese, raisins, and an amazing sauce from the Brooklyn Salsa Company. The event, of which there have been more than twenty in a couple of years, draws all kinds of people, from all ages and demographics, including hipsters, foodies, neighbors, Burners, Couchsurfers, and the generally curious. Everyone is invariably kind and courteous and can’t wait to hear what you’re cooking.

my dish

Page Not Found is home to Joe and Margaret and their two cats, Baloney Gabba-Goo and Eddie Tuna Cupcake Mohawk Feather Teddybear Pancake Weezer Haiku (says Margaret: “We usually call her either Pupcake or Fatty Tuna or Haiku”). They used to host some wild parties, but these days they’re more likely to have art shows, modern dance performances, and bands in their space. But Chaos Cooking is still their pride and joy, and they’ve just launched a website to spread the word, and to encourage people to host Chaos Cookings in their own city, town, or backyard.

Joe & Margaret amid the chaos

brooklyn spaces: What made you decide to do this?
Joe: It started out of a longing for that feeling you get when you’re with your family during the holidays and everyone’s in the kitchen cooking at the same time, chatting and gossiping and catching up and laughing and asking each other, “What can I do to help?” It’s just a great feeling. So we tried it once, with eighteen friends, and it was wonderful. I think the second one had twenty-five, and we thought that would be crazy, but it still seemed to work.
Margaret: People kept asking, “Can I bring my friend to the next one?” And we were like, “Next one?”

brooklyn spaces: I first read about Chaos Cooking on Nonsense NYC. What made you decide to open it up to the community?
Joe: We like people, and we figure if someone want to come to an event like this, they’re probably someone we’d like to meet. Nonsense is an amazing list, it kind of changed my life. But listing there was a bit of a controlled experiment, because not everyone’s reading it.

brooklyn spaces: What are some really memorable dishes that people have made?
Margaret: One time Ryan did this seven-day marinated pork. David once made lamb with yogurt-truffle sauce.
Joe: There was this one guy, I wish I could remember his name, who was traveling in India, and there’s a certain type of tea that you can only get on this one mountain there, so he hiked the mountain and picked this tea and brought it back and made this chai concoction that was just amazing, like nothing else I’ve ever had.
Margaret: One time my brother and his girlfriend made chocolate lollipops with Pop Rocks in the middle.
Joe: There was chocolate-covered pomegranate, that was really good. I save all the sign-in sheets, which list what people made. There’s some incredible stuff. Baklava, peaches and pancetta, coconut-curry lentils… What we really like is that the concept is so simple, and people are so self-reliant. The more we got into it, the more we realized that anybody could do this. There are already Chaos Cooking communities that are bigger than the one in New York.
Margaret: There’s one in Winston-Salem, I recently learned. I think they most likely heard about it from the New York Times article that was written about us, or the NPR piece. Theirs seems a little different, more families, with a down-home kind of feel, but it looks like they have a great time.
Joe: Chaos Cooking is an idea that spans gender and age and really any sort of demographic, because everyone loves to cook, and most people love to do it together.
Margaret: Especially with people you don’t know very well. It’s really easy to get to know people through cooking.
Joe: It makes people feel comfortable, and I think one of the things that makes it work is that everyone has something to do and be proud of, something to share and something to receive, and something to talk about. It’s like all social barriers are resolved.

brooklyn spaces: I’m always struck by how calm and kind the vibe is. How did you manage to make these events where everybody’s just happy and wants to talk to each other?
Margaret: Everybody’s eating!
Joe: Yeah, I think that’s the trick. Also, if you’re a complete jerk, you’re probably not going to go to a cooking event.
Margaret: I think if you’re a jerk, you’re probably more of a taker. And if you come to a cooking event, you’re expected to do just as much as everybody else.
Joe: I never thought about that, that’s a really good point. I think you’re right, the people who are drawn to it are givers or contributors. But you’re definitely getting a lot also. You’re eating a lot.

brooklyn spaces: Do you feel like being in Bushwick has anything to do with the way this came about?
Joe: Well, we really like having it here. It’s great when the neighbors come over and cook with us. There’s a Puerto Rican family next door and the mom is really into it. And our neighbor Manny, a middle-aged African American woman, she brought a couple of her girlfriends once and they all cooked with us. I think that’s really cool. There’s a feeling of frontier here in Bushwick, and there’s a little bit of risk. But our neighbors love us, and we love our neighbors. We don’t hold ourselves in. The neighborhood around here is a little rough, but the neighbors are awesome.

Like this? Read about more food event spaces: Egg & Dart Club, Ger-Nis, Breuckelen Distilling, Treehaus, Grub at Rubulad

a wrecked tangle press

oriana on 23 Sep ’11

space type: art press | neighborhood: prospect heights | active since: 2007 | links: website, facebook, myspace

There’s no doubt that Brooklyn is a literary utopia. We’ve got writers winning all the most important awards, we’ve got a massive annual book fair, and we’ve got some of the hardest-working, most innovative small presses in the world, like Akashic, powerHouse, Soft Skull, Archipelago, Melville House, and Ugly Duckling Presse.

Alaska & Jessica

Another thing we’ve got is artists’ books. At the intersection of DIY crafting, zine culture, writing, and art, artists’ books are limited only by the imagination of the maker. I covered artist-book gallery Central Booking several months ago, without realizing that gallery assistant Jessica was one half of the artist-book micropress A Wrecked Tangle. In their Prospect Heights apartment, Jessica and her partner Alaska make tiny editions of gorgeous books of poetry, prose, and photographs, using a crazy amount of different materials, from dirt to teddy bear eyes to hair to eggs. Their books have been exhibited at Proteus Gowanus, Dog Eared, The Extra-Illustration Project, 139, The Human Book Project, Rutgers University Book Arts Symposium, and more. Unsurprisingly, they’re smart, fun, engaging women, with lots of ideas about books and art and the way Brooklyn makes it all possible.

[all photos by Maya Edelman]

brooklyn spaces: What made you decide to start making art books?
Alaska: We both spent a ton of money going to Pratt for creative writing and then realized that we were doing nothing with it, so one day I brought over a typewriter and all this scrap paper, and we just made a book. It was called Objects Hiding Access to Sanctuaries. We made seven copies and mailed them to people whose work we liked or who we felt were kindred spirits. Each book had the same pages, but we used different materials for certain elements, and they all came with an engraved skeleton key.
Jessica: There’s always a souvenir with our books. It’s supposed to be an experience that you take something away from.
Alaska: The first year or so that we were making stuff it was for fun, just to make the world a more beautiful place, that thing D.H. Lawrence said about how artists create a world for each other that’s fit to live in. But eventually we decided it’s not selling out to be in galleries, and also we wanted people who love books to see our books. So we started trying to find more people in the book community who were interested in seeing our work.

Beginning

brooklyn spaces: How many books have you done?
Jessica: I don’t know. We’ve done a lot of really small editions, and there are books we’ve made that we haven’t kept any record of.
Alaska: If I had to ballpark it, I’d say thirty.
Jessica: Working in book art also makes you question what really qualifies as a book. One of the things we did is called The Bee Does Not Keep the Honey, which is a honeycomb made out of packaging and stuffed full of rolls of paper. Is that a book?
Alaska: We just went through a really book-object-y phase, where things got kind of sculptural for a while, and I think that that still affects how I look at making books or just what a book is. We did this book Beginning that’s a dozen eggs with poems and objects inside that all relate to kinds of beginnings, and you have to break them open to read them. That has chapters that relate to a theme, but it’s not a book exactly.

brooklyn spaces: So what would be your definition of what makes a book?
Jessica: It’s funny but we’ve never actually been asked that.
Alaska: I feel like I’ve been avoiding that question.

brooklyn spaces: Okay, well what unifies all of your books?
Jessica: We try to have the form and the concept and the text all working off of each other to express the idea. So if we’re making Tremblement, a book about an earthquake, we want the title to be off-kilter, and we want a book that is about beginnings to be inside eggs. It’s the interplay between those elements that makes it successful to me.
Alaska: We’re both really into the idea of making moments or making memories, and experience-based work, so we try to add elements of that to all of our books. We want the book to be an experience that changes with you as you change it.

Loosies

brooklyn spaces: Do either of you have a favorite book you’ve done?
Alaska: Winter is one of my favorites. That one was one of those books that was sort of painless, sort of cathartic. We wrote it in winter, basically dealing with that winter sad where you’re like, “This is hard and awful. Where is everyone?” It’s sort of a little attempt to reach out and be like, “Hey, I’m here. Hope you are too.”
Jessica: I think that’s what a lot of our books do. One of the ones I really love is called Loosies; we did for this zine festival at the Brooklyn Lyceum that was put on by Susan Thomas, a really awesome librarian from Pratt. We brought this 250-pound cigarette machine and filled it with a series of “loosies” that were letterpress poems rolled up to look like cigarettes. You could put in a quarter and dispense a poem.

brooklyn spaces: Do you think making art books in our internet age is an important rebellion?
Jessica: I feel like artists’ books are becoming much more popular as a result of the way that publishing is going; books are now more precious because there’s not going to be as many of them.
Alaska: A lot of our work is in celebration of the book as something awesome that you get to hold and smell and flip through and spill stuff on, and I think that means more now than it used to.

brooklyn spaces: Is there a community of art book people that you’re inspired by, or does living in Brooklyn affect the way you make your art?
Jessica: I don’t know a lot of people who do what we do. In the niche of book arts, which is itself a very small community, writing collaboratively is really rare.
Alaska: But we are surrounded by a bunch of really talented people, so I make books and send them to my friends in the band Toothaches, and they send me their music in return, or they’ll send me music to make books to. There are a lot of really culturally and artistically rich things happening in Brooklyn.
Jessica: There’s a grassroots artistic movement here that’s very unironic. People plant and cook and do things because they love them, because they think that it makes the world a better place. People are getting past the idea that the artist has to be this suffering lonely person slaving away in their hovel. You don’t have to be miserable to be a writer, you don’t have to isolate yourself in order to be passionate.
Alaska: We’re writers, so we obviously think too much and become depressed about the world, but our books always end up having this hopeful note, partly because the actual process of making things is so empowering. I remember reading Deleuze & Guattari, they had this thing in Capitalism and Schizophrenia where they talk about how everything is so messed up in the world that being able to make stuff and create is the only way to be in control and process our own lives. I see a lot of that in Brooklyn and in the people I know. Everyone is using what’s around them in creative ways.

brooklyn spaces: What are some projects you’re planning to do in the future?
Alaska: We want to do more projects for strangers. We’re going to make little blue nests and hide them around Brooklyn. It’s sort of a shout-out to this book Bluets, where she talks about these birds that build blue nests. I read that and thought, “I would shit my pants if I saw a blue nest!” We want to do things where someone who doesn’t know us can find it, just random acts of beauty. I love the thought of someone sitting down on a subway bench and seeing this little blue nest and being like, “What? Is this for me?” There aren’t enough things like that, and when you do find them it’s so exciting.
Jessica: I think we’re scared to use the word “magic.” But you grow up thinking that maybe magical things could happen, and when you realize that’s not true, it’s pretty much soul-crushing. So making that magic for people is just so incredibly rewarding.
Alaska: And making those things is just as good as if they were spontaneously created in the universe. It doesn’t matter if your friend who has keys to your apartment is the one who left the awesome thing in your kitchen, it’s the fact that you came home and it was there. I feel like nothing is too small to make someone a little bit happier.

***

Like this? Read about more makers: Twig Terrariums, Ugly Duckling Presse, Pickett Furniture, Better Than Jam, Arch P&D, Central Booking, Hive NYC, Screwball Spaces, Urbanglass

monster island

oriana on 16 Sep ’11

neighborhood: williamsburg | space type: art gallery, studios, venue | active: 2004–2011

It feels a bit trite to talk about the demise of Williamsburg cool, an inevitability that only the most obtuse and culturally unaware would still argue isn’t happening, but it would be impossible to write about Monster Island—one of the last of this wave of DIY art and music spaces to succumb to the changing neighborhood—without mentioning it. Monster Island held on longer than most. Although the building will finally be torn down in October (to make room for yet another shiny new zillion-dollar high-rise, presumably), all the space’s components will be relocating elsewhere, and all the members of the collective seemed cautiously excited for a new beginning.

art studio

The two-story former spice factory is home to a massive amount of culture and art. You could reasonably call it a super-space, in the music sense of rock supergroups. There’s the Monster Island basement, one of the early DIY music spaces in the hood, among those where Todd P got his start. There are the two not-for-profit art galleries Live With Animals and Secret Project Robot, there’s Brah Records, and Oneida’s recording studio Ocropolis, and Mollusk Surf Shop, and Kayrock Screenprinting, and dozens of art studios and practice spaces. There have been hundreds of multi-media art shows over the years, and countless Brooklyn bands got their start or found their footing here, including the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, TV on the Radio, Animal Collective, DUBKNOWDUB, Golden Triangle, Ex-Models, Knyfe Hyts, K-Holes, Xray Eyeballs, Hair Jail, Invisible Circle, Try Try Try, and Divine Order of the Blood Witch, just to name a few.

outdoor mural painting

One of the really beautiful things about Monster Island is how interconnected everybody is; everyone has been in a band or side project together, helped each other put up an art show, swapped studios, worked in one of the shops, lived in each other’s rooms, and just generally collaborated on everything. While I was interviewing Eli—a longtime resident, worker in the silkscreen studio, member of a couple bands, and artist with some pieces on display for the block party—he knew everyone who walked down the block, introducing me to them by listing all the bands and art shows they’d been involved in at the space over the years. It’s a really beautiful family atmosphere, and while I, like everyone, am disappointed that this Williamsburg institution is the latest to be killed off by relentless real estate development, I’m confident that all the artists and all their creativity and energy will find many more places to thrive.

[all photos by Maya Edelman, from the final block party & “Nothing Gold Can Stay” art show]

art studio

brooklyn spaces: Is there something going on here basically all the time?
Eli: Pretty much. The galleries have art shows up about three weeks of every month, and there are music shows in the basement usually four nights a week. If I hang out for more than an hour, something will start to happen. Before I worked in the building I was here almost as much as I am now, working in the galleries, hanging out, helping people with their art, listening to my friends’ bands practice.

brooklyn spaces: It’s amazing how interconnected everyone is.
Eli: One of the things that’s always been exciting for me about Monster Island is the synthesis of art and music. Nobody does just one thing, and there’s always collaborations. Everyone’s in each other’s bands and makes art together. Kid Millions and I put out a book through Kayrock’s book series, and Wolfy and Kid Millions are doing a silkscreen poem book thing. Some of the hardest-working and most brilliant artists I’ve ever met are in this building.

Live With Animals gallery

brooklyn spaces: Tell me about a particularly memorable art show.
Eli: These Are Powers did a record-release art show that was really exciting, probably 100 people had pieces in that. “Our Town” was the group show for the 2010 block party, and everyone built their portion of “our town.” I made a headshop with Sto from Cinders Gallery; Alison from Awesome Color and Call of the Wild and Red Dawn II made a leather bar, which was horrifying, this cardboard room with large-penised muscular men, and a glory hole and glued-down empty poppers bottles. Maya made a planetarium, Chris made a comic book store, Christine who works at the silkscreen shop made all these squirrels and pigeons and put them all over the place. It was an incredible show.

Man Forever

brooklyn spaces: Okay, now tell me about some amazing music shows.
Eli: The weirdest show was the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ tenth-anniversary show. A lot of us have known those guys for a long time, so that show was kind of just for the fans. But it was so packed. Alex and I had to kneel on this ramp leading up to the stage and basically support the weight of the crowd on our backs for ninety percent of the set. And somehow that was awesome. Recently Oneida did a twenty-four-hour show, which was pretty insane. They played two-hour sets all night, and then at 5 a.m. they played their new record live during a pancake breakfast. Half the people had been up all night drunk, the other half were just waking up. It was one of the strangest shows I’ve ever been to.

K-Holes

brooklyn spaces: How about some good parties?
Eli: Every year Kayrock and Wolfy did a thing called Holly Jolly Sabbath the Sunday before Christmas. All the lights would be off, and they hung a Christmas tree upside-down and painted a pentagram on the floor below it, and we’d just sit around, drink mulled wine, get stoned, and listen to every Black Sabbath record back-to-back. Oh, and the first block party I ever came to, it was pouring rain and everything had been moved inside, and it was chaos, people packed in everywhere, just sweaty, giant craziness. I wandered from one place to another and band after band would start playing. It’s still probably the best party I’ve ever been to.

art studio

brooklyn spaces: Do you feel like being in Williamsburg, or Brooklyn in general, has influenced the space?
Eli: There’s some strong Brooklyn pride in this building. No one ever wanted this place to be something you could have in Manhattan. But at this point, being a space in Williamsburg has become a fight. When Monster Island started, there was no one on the street. There were prostitutes and people trying to pick up prostitutes, and that was it.

Monster Island basement

brooklyn spaces: So how does everyone feel about leaving?
Eli: It’s the same feeling as when you move out of an apartment, like “Oh man, I’m not going to live here anymore. But I get to live in this other place!” I mean, everyone’s sad that it’s ending, but nothing is really dying. This won’t be a place to hang out anymore, but that just means you’ll have to go to Secret Project’s new space in Bushwick or Mollusk’s new spot in Williamsburg. But still, I’m definitely keeping my keys to this building, or maybe we’ll have a key-melting ceremony or something.

brooklyn spaces: Do you have any comment about the transformation of Williamsburg, all of that?
Eli: I’m sure I have a lot to say about that, but it’s old and it’s what happens. It will keep happening everywhere until some global catastrophe. To some degree, on some level, Monster Island brought it on ourselves. You do something that helps make the neighborhood cool, and the neighborhood will get cool, more people will start showing up, and then people with money will come in and ruin it. The cool thing is always going to precede the thing that is the cause of the destruction of the cool thing. There was a long time that I was saddened by the change, but at this point I’m kind of resigned to it.

Secret Project Robot

Like this? Read about more art & event spaces: Swimming Cities, Gowanus Ballroom, The Schoolhouse, Flux Factory, Vaudeville Park, Rubulad, HiveNYC