“Wow. I’ve never played a show with a four-year-old coloring in the front row.”
—Larry Strickland of local band Spunjwurthi, speaking with bandmates on stage at 10:30 p.m. at the Wild Wing in North Charleston about the family seated directly in front of him
Welcome to the fashion carnival
Holy crap! If Saturday night’s the Side Show is any clue of what to expect for Fashion Week, fasten your garter-belts. With the antiques moved aside and a runway put in their place, 501 King Street was home to a high energy fashion show, featuring models of all shapes and sizes decked out in outrageous outfits. The models attacked the runway to the beats of Space Invaders, while the show exploded into a carnival of silly string, back flips, blow-up toys, birdcages, and go-go gadget runway stunts. No one skipped a beat as designers for Max Jerome, Global Awakening, B’zar, Magar Hatworks, kimberly, Danielle Correia, Philadora, The Rose Knot, and Spinster showed off their wares. And let me tell you, it was a sweet carnival ride of wearable art, local street fashion, and southern homemade talent. Fashion Week, bring it on! —Svetlana Minx
CofC rolls out the red carpet
On Thursday night, the CofC Radio crew held an indie-rock dance-a-thon with a paparazzi theme at the Music Farm. These radioheads rolled out the red carpet and drew a glitzy crowd to this all-ages show, giving students a chance to escape the stale air of their dorms. Cameras flashed, folks were spanked, and wildly colored outfits were worn. A special highlight: the hot bodied, psychedelic-outfit wearing, hula-hoop swinging Kasey Douglas; the gal has the kind of moves that make your jaw drop. —Svetlana Minx
Battery gives fans a reason to cheer
Dozens of nearly blank-faced fans sat through the increasingly windy conditions for the Carolina Challenge Cup double header Wednesday night. The New York Red Bulls took on Toronto F.C. while the San Jose Earthquakes beat our hometown boys, the Charleston Battery, with a 2-1 victory; San Jose went on to win the Cup at Saturday’s final match. Even though three Major League Soccer teams made a special journey to the Lowcountry, the stands were nearly empty on Wednesday. As a result, seating was never an issue. I moved several times, and at one point, I sat close enough to Toronto’s bench to see the spit flying from the coach’s mouth as he screamed. Oddly enough, the most exciting moment of both matches took place during the pretzel twister minute. During that 60-sec block of time, if one of the teams made a goal, the fans in the stands would win a tasty pretzel. It didn’t happen. —Todd Curran
A killer night of jazz at the Music Hall
It was a brassy, swingin’ scene at the Charleston Music Hall last Saturday evening. The collaborative efforts between local author and jazz critic Jack McCray and local musician/conductor Charlton Singleton (pictured), and a 19-piece, tuxedo-clad, miniature jazz orchestra paid off splendidly as their homegrown South Carolina Hit Parade program bounced from big band tunes to Afro-Cuban to blues and back. Singleton, one of this city’s finest trumpet players, led the way; he danced and clapped as much as he conducted. It couldn’t be helped; the band sizzled. The two featured guest vocalists, Tony Burke and Ann Caldwell (pictured), nearly stole the show with their soulful performances. —T. Ballard Lesemann
This one’s for the birds
“Greetings from somewhere between a slow onset quarter-life crisis and fading off into my Andre Agassi days” was the title of Chicago artist Benjamin Bellas’ show Friday night at Redux. Can we say WTF? Little video screens played scenes of Bellas, one of which showed the artist walking through a subway station. According to Bellas’ website, this little loop of video was supposed to be symbolic of his fight against progress and change. I can see that. But I can also see what looks like a video shot by a tourist on a hand-held camera that was later sent to his friends back home in an e-mail with the subject heading, “Lost in Translation.” But then again, I’m no art critic. The crowd for their part seemed rightly pleased with the showcase, with some lingering in front of a display of a hat, T-shirt, and postcard which read, “Don’t Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late!” Bellas says, “My work models itself after the shooting star you’ve been waiting for all evening, but missed while blinking.” Hmm, I just blinked and decided I’d rather just put this pigeon to bed.—Kinsey Labberton
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