Winter Daydreaming... on a Monday

This morning I heard yet another reference to "youth" radio on KCRW, and it gave me some ideas. I was a huge fan of radio in Detroit over the summer (they even play my favorite show of all time, "The Treatment" with Elvis Mitchell on Saturdays!! Who cares if it's at 5am) and it seems that a Detroit-centered program like The Craig Fahle Show could be a good outlet for a project with oh, say, some journalism students at a local community college. I just so happen to have a niece who is studying journalism at a community college in Detroit and according to a text message from her mother this morning, "YES" she would be interested in doing some kind of project this summer. I'll double check with her when I visit Detroit for Christmas.

But why stop with Craig? I have lovely memories of interning at the Leonard Lopate Show at WNYC in New York a million years ago, and shows like RadioLab were making miracles just down the hall. Which is to say, radio is a reasonably accessible medium, right? Does anybody have contacts at This American Life? 

A good friend of mine and former NYU teacher, Judith Sloan (no relation) has done some gorgeous radio pieces that come to mind... I am going to start channelling radio waves at yoga class this winter. Unless that's dangerous.

Detroit Ho Wants to Know...

It's about time to think about summer plans. So, would you-- could you-- come to Detroit? If so, what would you do? Who are you?

Nap Time, and Other Announcements

Detroit Ho! is currently napping. But check out my friend Valyntina's blog in the meantime... This October, Detroit Ho! curated Back Room Live! Three of the many beautious Cave Canem poets who read this summer at our "Honeymoon in Detroit" reading are featured: Nandi Comer, Aricka Foreman and Tommye Blount.

Bon Appetite a la Detroit

As I chew on my favorite afternoon snack of all time (garlicky sauteed dandelions with a splash of citrus)...


I am drawn to remember all the wonderful meals we shared in Detroit this summer. I will present, in honor of these delicious occasions, a memorial photo essay. Starting with this oven photograph from a potluck we threw one lovely afternoon...


This cheesy french fry is from a trip to the infamous Coney Island chain, where my parents went on dates as youngins...


Here are some yummy, pastel colored cookies from Mexicantown.


Vegetarian black bean chili on Rosie's balcony... with cornbread and delicious pesto bruschetta and white wine.


And here is some of her famous homemade pie...


A funky concoction of "fried pink tomatoes," and other fun vegetables from Eastern Market.


Pizza at Supino's at Eastern Market...


Fig and prosciutto tapas at Sangrias in Royal Oak...


Flaming Saganaki cheese at the New Parthenon...


Something involving asparagus juxtaposed with a melon in our kitchen...


Crazy delicious tzatziki at Beirut Palace in Royal Oak...


Rodney's ribs...


Racine's side dishes to accompany said ribs...


Olives at Eastern Market...


Lapsang souchong tea (thanks to Rebecca) imported from Seven Cups in Tucson...


Lauren's plum pie a la mode...


An "everyday" type of dinner at Uncle Paul's house...


Cabbage from the community garden...


And last but not least, Aunt Cora May's famous fried chicken... here cooked with Canola oil. But let's not fool ourselves...


...it's always better with lard.

Honeymoon in Detroit: A Literary Reading

In honor of our visiting friends, Mika and PR, and their recent nuptuals, we decided to title our most recent summer event "Honeymoon in Detroit." I met the happy couple when we were in the MFA program at the University of Arizona together. These last few years they have been refining their skills at being crazy-good at home renovation, and were more than happy to share their gifts with the house.

I wasn't even sure if I had the energy to plan another event, but as I watched my friends sweat, and as we started to have so much fun exploring the city and as the living room and a stairway got coats of some tastefully chosen colors, I got to thinking... what's one last push of creative energy? All it really takes to throw a successful event are talented people and a trip to Trader Joes. What with my photojournalist/blogging dad around, we figured that even if it was just us at the reading, there'd be enough for an entertaining evening.

Before I'd left Tucson, a fellow of the literary foundation Cave Canem gave me the contact info of a bunch of Detroit poets. Because Detroit is such a magical place, and I really mean this, I'd actually met a few of them already out in the small world. By accident. When I shot out emails, everyone, whether we'd bumped into one another or not, was enthusiastic about attending. Some told a friend or two to come, so we had a healthy crowd. Add to that my sister, my journalism majoring neice, my neighbor Rosie, this awesome photographer Stephen, and an MFA friend who just moved to Ann Arbor for law school, and you've got yourself an event.

There is always a moment before one of these shindigs, usually when I'm on my way to buy wine and cheese, when I think "OK hold it together Aisha. You can do a little chit chat for a couple of hours. Just get yourself a cup of wine and you'll survive." But as soon as these friend-strangers started showing up, I got that happy feeling in my stomach. Before I knew it the evening was in competition with some of the best I've had. Nandi was on the couch telling me about a Connecticut artist's residency to model ours after... Blair had these awesome blue shoes... don't get me started on Darryl's pants. I wanted to marry them all.

Then we started reading. The SHEER QUALITY of the work was... sheer. Oh goodness. Cave Canem doesn't let in anything that looks like average, I'll tell you that. And my old grad school friends blew me away anew. It's always refreshing to hear fresh material from people you thought you had pegged-- even if you'd pegged them as brilliant. This may sound like a love fest, but the reading was called Honeymoon, and I am not exaggerating at all. Not this time.

Blair, a fellow with the African diaspora-themed journal Callaloo (which had the Cave Canem folks jealous if you want to know what prestige looks like) read--nay, shouted!-- from his book of poems on Michael Jackson, Moonwalking. He has a slam history, so the room came alive with that satisfying je ne sais quoi that happens when a slammy delivery meets an academic aesthetic. (If you don't know what I mean don't assume I'm casting aspersions at either genre, really... there's just this beautiful balance...) Nandi read a poem about a woman who died in a Detroit fire that had the whole room going "Unh." Josh read what I must ineptly describe as an ode to his mother's immigration from Peru, that practically got a standing ovation. By the time Erika's car got stolen outside (I wish I were joking), we were all old friends.

When it comes to readings, I've become a real fan of strictly enforced time limits, and my sister Lisa decided to take this task on with gusto. For a lot of long, juicy reasons, I haven't spent a lot of time with my sister until the last few years, and it turns out she is... hilarious doesn't do her justice. Sharp doesn't either. She's like Detroit... you have to see for yourself to understand. Her gentle reminders, impromptu Q and A's, and unsolicited but entirely necessary ending remarks yanked our little gathering into order and laughter and style.

The whole car incident left us all feeling a bit smacked around by the rougher edges of a city we love to romanticize. It forced us to reconsider and perhaps take more deeply to heart some of the more hopeful lines read during the course of the evening about the state of affairs in this city, which teaches residents -- new, old and returning-- every day a new lesson about beauty and strength and loss and community. And humor. Oh! And love. Uh oh... cue the photograph of the young black boy wading through the water off Belle Isle in the shadow of a cityscape...

Romancing Detroit: A Courtship Exhibition (part two)

Our courtship exhibition ended up being a delightful meet-and-greet. Because of the heat, it took place for the most part in the kitchen and on the porch, with courageous dashes up the stairs to check out some gorgeous art.

One room, which we like to call, "the glacier room," contained the work of eight photographers and painters...

The other room, deemed "the woods," contained some handmade "how to" books (which sent my teenaged cousin a-textin and a-blushin... who knew feminism could be so fun!), as well as photographs and an essay about the house where the exhibition was being held (which can be read in an upcoming issue of Michigan Quarterly Review). We also displayed a series of found and re-framed portraits from a Detroit dumpster...

While wandering around in the smothering heat, you could get to know the artists up close and personal. For example, Aisha's cousins! Including Suzanne, whose intricate pencil-drawings and elaborate murals have long decorated the homes of her relatives. Her contribution to the exhibit included a multi-media collaboration with another cousin, Rebecca, who has photographed extensively in Detroit and Italy.

Garrett's photographic documentation of both Detroit and Haiti added to the international breadth of the show. Though not a native Detroiter, he ended up moving to Detroit's Farnsworth Street after living at another artist's residence, the "Million Fishes" collective in San Fransisco.

Also chatting it up in the kitchen was Rachael, en route the Michigan Womyn's Festival. She makes books and other fancy objects out of Austin, in addition to running a design company, Redstart, which provides commercial and residential paint design (and may have inspired our flamboyant painting on the third floor).

If on the sunporch, you might run into the emmy-award winning filmmaker, New York Times freelance photographer and all-around-good guy, Stephen, who is currently working to create a photography institute on Detroit's Riverfront (here he is below, at the site). He was picking the brain of soon-to-be law student Heather, en route to Ann Arbor.

Rosie, a California native and post-card collector, moved to Detroit after taking a photographic road trip through the fifty states. She exhibited a few photographs in addition to the series of post cards she created on her own, fifty in all-- one for each state. She prefers living in Motor City, where "you get the sense that people pay attention," to her former home, New York City, which she describes as "a homing beacon for Type A personalities."

A few people not featured in the exhibit showed up as well. There was Kate, for example, another Farnsworth resident who teaches Detroit kids how to farm. The other Kate in attendance holds a monthly event above a bakery in Mexicantown called "Soup," which is a micro-fundraising initiative. Everybody brings five bucks for soup, and shares an idea they've come up with that relates to the arts. The person with the most popular idea is awarded all of the funds collected that evening.

Jero periodically spends his free time volunteering with a contingent of Detroit DIY/Handmade Detroit ("a loose collective for people who like to make stuff"). After meeting him at the exhibit, we found him at Eastern Market alongside a huge, colorful bus on loan from MIT called the "Fab Lab," which is currently making rounds in Detroit, in the attempt to de-mystify technology. He was helping some kids fiddle with wires that were somehow going to enable a speaker to amplify something (the kids got it much faster than I did).

While the art and learning were educational and all, the evening was most importantly a good time. An old friend made a two-hour treck from her farm to say hello, and three, kindly strangers left with well wishes and requests for more events in the future.

Not to worry!

There will be a literary reading this coming Wednesday... "Honeymoon in Detroit," in honor of our currently visiting friends, who are (to the dismay of all who hear it) ACTually spending their honeymoon in the Motor City. But hey! This place is waaay more romantic than people think.

Romancing Detroit: A Courtship Exhibition (part one)

Our efforts to prepare for the exhibit on Wednesday started out just fine. We had asked a handful of artists to participate with us in an inaugural show, and we were impressed by their enthusiasm. We sketched out a healthy to do list and got to work.

Logan was painting a local creek onto the wall of the stairway that I was sanding...

Radhika was painting a blue Baudelaire onto the door of a closet...

And we all took about forty trips to the Staples copy center within the course of the day to have our buddy Al print stuff for us...

A photographer from the New York Times even dropped by at the last minute, asking if he could add some stuff to the exhibit. Well alright!

It was hot, sure, but we had borrowed a bunch of fans and the fridge was stocked with sparkling water and white wine. Everything was looking great.

And then the electricity went out.

Since this happens a lot at our house, we figured we'd short circuited something. We started running around for awhile, grabbing our local electrician and, for my dad, one of those masks you wear when you're "at work"...

Every time I opened the refrigerator door to look with panic at the cheese in the slowly-warming fridge, someone told me, "CLOSE IT!" And I obeyed.

But it became clear that there wasn't much we could do to change things. This particular outage was not our fault. It was a city-wide thing.

As we celebrated our faultlessness, it slowly dawned on us that the electricity-free environment had brought an air of calm into the house. This feeling-- something between chaos and zen, is a familiar one in a place like Detroit. After all, this summer has been a festival of rupture and healing-- bike accidents, breakups, cross-country moves and graduations... If this city has anything to teach, it's how to live with lots of hope despite a feeling of uncertainty about the future. So, we stopped running around, and waited for our guests as we were.