A visit with East Village singer-songwriter Jim Andralis

Photos by Stacie Joy; Q&A by EVG

Jim Andralis is an East Village-based singer-songwriter ... and trauma-focused psychotherapist in private practice — a unique combination for a unique talent. 

His body of work, starting with 2016's debut, "Your Dying Wish Came True," shows Andralis as a pop craftsman, a songwriter of rare melodic gifts. Live, he has been joined by Julie Delano, Lesia Graves, Susan Hwang and Jessie Kilguss — not to mention his husband, artist-designer Larry Krone. (They opened for Bikini Kill on July 9 at Irving Plaza.)

Next Thursday (Aug. 11), Andralis plays at Rockwood Music Hall on Allen Street (it's also his birthday). His proceeds will go to the Yellowhammer Fund, which promotes reproductive justice in Alabama and the Deep South

Ahead of the show, we stopped by Andralis' East Village apartment, where we took a lot of photos of Dory, who graces the cover of his forthcoming LP, "I Can't Stop Trying," and the album's promo T-shirts. 

Here, Andralis talks about his career ambitions, life-changing accordion lessons and love of the East Village.

What was your earliest career ambition?

I had jobs since I was 15 but nothing resembling career ambition until I was well into my 20s. Until then, I think my sole ambition was trying to pass as heterosexual. 

Once I moved here at 24, the dream became performing on some kind of stage — ideally singing. The shows I loved the best were Kiki and Herb, The Talent Family (Amy and David Sedaris) plays, Jeff Weiss and Carlos Martinez’s insane serialized stuff. 

The people I looked up to the most were hustling in some kind of service-industry job while attempting to carve out some kind of creative life. Imagining I could do that here felt pretty fucking ambitious. 

When did music come into the picture? 

I had been in a couple off-off Broadway musicals and stuff, but in the early 2000s, I started taking accordion lessons with Walter Kuhr at Main Squeeze Accordions on Essex Street. I’d always been really drawn to the accordion, particularly in the context of a band. But it’s also completely self-contained. You can play the accordion in your apartment, sing along and you can do just do that right away. Playing chords is really easy. 

Anyway, you can draw a direct line from accordion lessons with Walter to everything I love about my life here. I was tending bar at Phoenix on 13th and A. Two of my favorite bar customers, Ben and Clint, found out I was taking accordion lessons and asked me if I wanted to be in their band the Isotoners. I started really writing and singing songs in that band. Bridget Everett would usually sing a couple songs with us whenever we performed, so that’s when Bridget and I got to be friends. 

Also, the whole reason I met my husband Larry Krone is that he asked me to play accordion with him at one of Julian Fleisher’s nights at Starlite Lounge on Avenue A. So music coming into the picture also coincided with love and family coming into the picture. 

You work as a trauma-focused psychotherapist. Do you consider your music to be more of a side project or perhaps a second career? 

It’s definitely a whole second career. But it’s not, to be clear, two actual revenue streams. It’s more like, “You want a vinyl pressing for this release? Take on two more clients, motherfucker.” 

You're a longtime East Village resident. What first prompted you to move here? What keeps you here?

Long before I actually lived in this neighborhood, I worked and spent every minute I could here. It wasn’t until I first entered The Bar on 2nd and 4th in, like, 1994 that I felt like I could be myself in any kind of gay context. Soon after that, I started tending bar there, then Gold Bar, Dick’s and finally Phoenix. But I mostly lived in Queens. 

When I started dating Larry in 2004 I put in an application for a place in the HDFC where he was already living. I was able to move here (and actually afford it) in 2007, all thanks to our HDFC! This neighborhood has felt like home to me for way before I lived here. I just feel lucky to miraculously have an apartment here, friends nearby, tons of live music within a 5-10 minute walk.

In conclusion, I believe I shall remain here as long as possible! 

I try to live in the moment as much as I can. But I've always been a nostalgic person. Do you find yourself being more nostalgic about the East Village and NYC, in general, these days, or can you balance the present and past to a healthy degree?

It depends on the moment. Some days I walk around and feel the history of our neighborhood existing in this weird, beautiful harmony right alongside the present. Like I’m part of something complicated and beautiful that extends beyond me in all these different dimensions. 

Other days, it’s almost like panic because I can’t remember what used to be where this nail place is. Was Little Rickie on First or A? And if I can’t remember fill-in-the-blank, how the hell will anyone remember I was ever here? 

It feels very linked to my feelings about mortality. In other words, yes completely healthy! 

Sometimes, though, it’s a really sweet nostalgia, like you could get a goddamn soy patty platter at Dojo for 5 bucks in my day, honey! 

Tell us more about the recently released single "New York City Spring" and what was going on when you wrote it. 

I got COVID pretty bad in March 2020 when the city was just hit so hard. 

I don’t think "Working Girl" is the BEST movie, but I like it. It came on TV when I was really sick. I watched the opening with Carly Simon singing, and a million people taking the Staten Island ferry to go work with, like, the Twin Towers on the horizon and I lost my SHIT. It was like this enormous wave of grief and terror came over me, this awareness of how vulnerable this little island is and how much it’s been through. 

I write a lot of songs about New York, and I love art that loves New York and New Yorkers, like my friend Neil Goldberg’s gorgeous work. “New York City Spring” is my experience of New York in 2020, when it felt like a scared, wounded place where all these things used to happen. But it ends up kind of a pep talk for us both and an attempt to conjure some sort of magic to come save us.

 

You and the band opened for Bikini Kill on July 9 at Irving Plaza. Most memorable moment of the evening for you? 

The entire feeling just felt like this enormous, insanely fun moment. We were just ecstatic to have been invited by Bikini Kill to do it and so overwhelmed by how welcoming the venue and crowd were.

But if I had to pick one particular moment, it was being with my band just ecstatically dancing during Bikini Kill’s incredible set. We’d already done our set, loved every second of it, and just got to celebrate the whole thing together as friends while watching the most amazing Bikini Kill show. Plus Kathleen dedicated “For Tammy Rae” to me and Lar. That also felt like heaven and made me cry. 

Your birthday is Aug. 11. (Happy early birthday!) You're playing a show that night at Rockwood Music Hall, and you're donating everything you make to the Yellowhammer Fund. Can you tell people more about them and why you support the organization? 

The Yellowhammer Fund is doing amazing reproductive justice work helping people in the places being hit the hardest right now. They help marginalized communities get health care. One way I can help is by supporting organizations like Yellowhammer. I’m just grateful they exist. They are doing beautiful work that is saving lives, and also fucking dangerous. 

And thanks for the birthday wishes! 

Your LP, "I Can't Stop Trying," is due out in early January. Will there be a tour with it? Any special plans?

I mean, I hope so! I’m proud of this record. My friend, producer and engineer Tom Beaujour set up this insanely safe and quarantined recording experience, and making this record really helped me survive that year. 

In terms of plans, we usually do a record release at Joe’s Pub. That’s not locked in, but we have our fingers crossed. I have never toured. I’m dying to do it but can’t quite afford it. But it’s something I feel like I’ll make happen if not for this record definitely the next one, which we’ll be recording this fall! 

Larry and I are doing a show in Andes with Julian Fleisher, Neal Medlyn and Julie DeLano on Aug. 6. Can we call that a tour?? 

You can keep tabs on Andralis via his website or Instagram.

Exclusive: East Village Radio is signing off after 11 years; final day of broadcasting is May 23

[Image via]

East Village Radio, the 11-year-old Internet radio station with a tiny storefront studio on First Avenue, is shutting down operations next week.

"Every time we get a new listener, it costs us more money with licensing fees and Internet costs," East Village Radio CEO Frank Prisinzano said in a phone interview. "After doing some projections, we see that it is going to be very, very difficult for us to continue to break even."

The station ends live programming after Friday, May 23. The stable of eclectic DJs, with shows covering nearly every genre of music, will have the chance to broadcast a farewell show in the days ahead. (In addition, the station is releasing all of the archived shows to each DJ so that he or she can shop around for a new gig or syndication.)

Popularity hasn't been an issue with East Village Radio, who counted more than 1 million listeners worldwide a month (this after starting as a short-lived 10-watt FM radio station in April 2003). However, under the Congressional Digital Music Copyright Act of 1998, Internet broadcasters must pay a digital performance royalty for every listener.

"We pay a higher rate for royalties and licensing than Pandora pays. We live in a world where these behemouth music-streaming services keep going in for more capital," said Peter Ferraro, the general manager/head of programming at East Village Radio. "It's almost like we are being penalized for our growth.

"It's very difficult for an independent medium music company to survive in a world where Apple is paying $3.2 billion for Beats by Dre."

Still, East Village Radio was integral to the success of breaking new acts and giving airplay to musicians you might not have ever heard. The street-level studio was also a popular draw, bringing in celebrated music veterans such as Lou Reed (oops — he was a call-in), Richard Hell and John Lydon, among many others, through the years. You never knew who you might spot inside the studio at 19 First Ave. between East First Street and East Second Street.

[Duran Duran from 2010 via EVG]

While the programming is commercial free, East Village radio has survived by the advertising on its website and, most important, the funding from Prisinzano, the chef who owns neighborhood restaurants Frank, Lil Frankies, Supper and Sauce.

The radio operation was the proverbial labor of love, and a way to do something for the East Village.

"It has always been really pure to me. From the beginning I was thinking I had to give something back to this neighborhood," Prisinzano said. "I was worried about the music scene moving out to Brooklyn. It was important to represent the neighborhood."

So the thought of selling part of the station to secure the necessary funding to continue on with East Village Radio was never an option for Prisinzano and Ferraro.

"I don’t want to give up the integrity of the station. The only way that I really see it continuting is by bringing in another benefactor who would take over part of the station. I really don't want to do that. Pete and I understand the neighborhood. We want to run the station. I don’t want to sell it out," Prisinzano said.

Said Ferraro, "If another media or VC company came in, I don’t know if they would have understood the nuance of being local but global. There was a certain localness that we feel proud to be part of. But the mission has always been to amplify that out to the world, but to have it point back to the neighborhood."


[DJ Hannah Rad photographed last August by James Maher]

Prisinzano said that he isn't done with the East Village.

"I'm looking to come up with something else now. I have a lot of ideas. This particular model failed. We closed it down. I'll build up a little more capital and come up with a different idea," he said. "I'm really sad about the decision, but I think it has inspired people to do similar things all over the planet. We started out as a pirate radio station, and we decided to amplify it and design the local Internet radio model ourselves. The model is untenable. It just doesn't work. It's the system's fault. There isn't any legislation that will ever be written without someone lobbying for it. We can't afford lobbyists."

Prisinzano and Ferraro are still processing what the station's legacy might be.

"I hope that history proves to be kind to us," Ferraro said.

"This was a beautiful, amazing thing. I think something really positive will come out of this," Prisinzano said. "We took it to where we could take it. We are proud of what we did. Now it's time to stop. And that's OK."

Out and About in the East Village

In this weekly feature, East Village-based photographer James Maher provides us with a quick snapshot of someone who lives and/or works in the East Village.



By James Maher

Name: Satie Saurel
Occupation: Musician
Location: Jules Bistro, 65 St. Mark's Place
Date: 2:15 pm on Tuesday, Aug. 5

I’m from France. I was born in San Diego, and I grew up in France — in Nice. My father lives in Chile and is an astrophysicist. Because of that I was born in California, because he was working at Palomar Observatory. My mom, she lives in Nice and she works for the mayor.

I was 4 years old when I left San Diego and I grew up in France till my 20s. I started ballet when I was four because I had one foot that was inside the other, which was a problem when I was walking. So the doctor told my parents, ‘She can wear shoes to rectify the feet or she can try to do ballet.’ My grandmother was so happy because she was a dancer. My father was against dancing. He hated dancing. So they brought me to the first ballet class and I said, ‘Yeah I want to do that!’

Also, at home I always had too much energy, so it was a way to channel it. I always feel like a 5-year old child. I always need an audience to do my shows. They told this to the ballet teacher and the ballet teacher said, ‘You should try the theatre.’ So I started the theatre at 7 and at 9 I did the vocal and ballet.

I’m a singer/songwriter. It’s kind of step-by-step that I arrived to be a singer/songwriter. When I was 9, I went to a theatre musical company. Theatre musical is vocal, theatre and dance — the three together. I toured with them from 9 till 17. Monday morning you’d go to middle school and in the afternoon you’d go to dance classes, vocal classes and theatre classes. I was doing ballet, contemporary, jazz, and tap dance. It was every day, school in the morning and dance in the afternoon. It was super nice. During holidays we went to Tunisia, Italy, around France.

I travel a lot. I love to travel. I love to move. I moved to London, Paris, New York for a year and a half, after I went to Barcelona, Germany, the Bahamas, Montreal and I came back here last year. In London, I was waitressing and taking some dance classes. It was a bad experience for me, then, one day I did the audition for Euro Disney. I moved back to Paris because I got a job as [the character] Maleficent. She is a villain. It was fun. Ha Ha Ha. The children were afraid of you. I loved it. It was so cool. You were with children everyday. You just had fun everyday, life is beautiful, you know? At the same time I was doing a school of musical theatre in Paris and after that I did an audition for the cabaret because I love to dance, to be nude, hey!

After I did the audition for Moulin Rouge I broke my leg, so I stopped dancing. It was permanent. I can dance but I can’t anymore put my legs over my head. So I said, ‘OK, I can’t dance now. What am I going to do in Paris?’

So I moved to New York. It was better for me to record my album in New York. You have really good people here to work with. I came here and I took some classes, did some audition for a theatre musical, but it was always, ‘No French accent.’ I was taking the vocal classes and I met this teacher and she told me to be part of an international choir with her, so I did that. I sang at Carnegie Hall.

I had used cover songs and I thought I could have my own show with my own songs. I started to take piano classes and I started to co-write my own songs with my ex-fiance. When we broke up I started to write my own songs in French, so now I have some French songs and some French-English songs. In April, I found a producer and we’re working on my first music video here. I didn’t work when I was with my ex-fiance, so after we broke up I needed to find a job. I couldn’t afford an apartment here, so I first went to the Bronx and I rented a room, but I did not have a [closet] in my room. I was putting all my clothes and luggage in the French restaurant that I was working at. After one month of doing that I finally had enough money to find an apartment on Allen Street, with no window — nothing. It was horrible. Then I moved to Chelsea. In Chelsea it was kind of a cage for a bunny. Four months ago I moved around here. I love this area.

I found this place, Jules Bistro, that has live jazz. I’ve been working here for one year and I became the manager [during the summer]. Every night we have live music, live jazz with no cover charge from 8:30 to 11:30. Every day you have music. What is good is that you can sing. For the third set, when it’s less busy, I say, ‘Can I sing a song?’ It’s kind of cool because we don’t rehearse, so they need to feel me and my work. What I hate in jazz is the same tempo and they don’t want to change and they hate to follow a musician. So I stop them and we have a laugh. And now that I’m the manager, they can’t say no.

James Maher is a fine art and studio photographer based in the East Village. Find his website here.

Luna Lounge owner Rob Sacher on Joey Ramone, a new CBGB and what killed the Lower East Side

Rob Sacher, the former co-owner of Luna Lounge on Ludlow Street, has written "Wake Me When It's Over." The book covers his formative years growing up in Brooklyn in the 1960s, his days as a musician and songwriter and time running several clubs, including Mission (1988-1993, where the Ace Bar is now on Fifth Street) and Luna Lounge (which relocated to Williamsburg for a 16-month stint in 2007-2008). Sacher is self-publishing his book through his own DIY imprint and is raising promotion money through Kickstarter. The funding campaign ends on Wednesday. (He already reached his modest goal of $5,000.) The official release date of the book is Thursday.

Sacher talked to us via email about his first musical memories, his friend Joey Ramone and the state of the Lower East Side music scene today.

You were born and raised in Brooklyn. What was your first musical memory? How did that help set the course for your career?

Yes, born and raised in Brooklyn. My first musical memory. Well, that's a bit difficult to say for sure but my mom says that I would raise myself up in my crib at the age of one and rock back and forth to Elvis Presley's "Blue Suede Shoes" every time she played that record. I don't recall doing that but I do remember falling in love with The Shirelles when I heard "Will You Love Me Tomorrow" on the radio. I guess I was about four or five when that song was first played.

However, I had other moments a bit later on when I realized that the joy that music brought me was something that other people also felt. Two moments that are forever part of who I am came first when I was nine and I discovered a group of teenage girls singing in the handball courts near my home, and second, when I first heard an electric 12-string guitar.

Why did you decide to write this book?

I decided to write "Wake Me When It's Over" because that time is now over and is consigned to the pages of indie rock history in New York. There are no other books that have yet been written about the New York music scene that came after CBGBs, and Luna Lounge may possibly have been the most important NY club of its size in the 1990s and early 2000s.

Where else could you have come in off the street and see The Strokes, Elliott Smith, Interpol, Longwave, The National and stellastarr* for free — all possibly in the same week? And, on top of that, you could come by on Monday night and see Marc Maron, Louis C.K. and a dozen other young comedians working out their craft on the Luna Lounge stage? I guess I have a story to tell.

People had mixed reactions when news surfaced of a possible resurrected CBGB. You wrote for PBS, "Don’t burden yourself with a tether to some idea or concept of a bygone age." Do you think the city/Lower East Side will ever have a time and place like that again?

No. The creative people who lived there were allowed to be driven out by real-estate interests and that includes anyone and everyone who stood by and did nothing to stop that from happening. I'm talking about the Community Board, the City Council members who represent lower Manhattan, the developers, the real-estate agents, the landlords, the co-op and condo owners, the mayor, and especially the people who were willing to allow the commercial transformation of this once glorious neighborhood into the cultural travesty it has become so that their apartments would increase in value.

Well, you get what you deserve in this life, I believe. And, because few people were standing up for places like Collective:Unconscious, Tonic, CBGB and Luna Lounge, the Lower East Side must now live with obnoxious bistros that cater to people with little interest or understanding of the former importance of this neighborhood.

Perhaps, it's time for a TAKE BACK THE LOWER EAST SIDE movement. I would love to see that happen. Of course, I can hear the vested interests and the people who live here now who couldn't care less remind me of my recent words, "Don’t burden yourself with a tether to some idea or concept of a bygone age." Of course, the difference between CBGB and Luna Lounge is that Hilly Kristal is dead and I am still around, available, and would love to resurrect Luna Lounge under the right conditions if such conditions could be created.

You and Joey Ramone once talked about opening a club. What did you envision for the venue?

Joey always wanted to open a club and we talked about it on many occasions. He liked a club that I co-owned before Luna Lounge called the Mission. He and I went around the neighborhood in the early 1990s and looked at different possible locations.

Joey's brother, Mickey, is now trying to find a location to open up a club called Joey Ramone Place, and Mickey and I have had long conversations about what Joey would have envisioned for this kind of bar. In the end, it really just has to be Joey in any and every way possible. Joey Ramone was very smart, irreverent, had a great appreciation for the absurd, a great sense of humor, and had awesome taste in music. Any club that either Joey would have opened or Mickey will open will be all of those things all wrapped up in one.

And, by the way, we've been looking at locations for more than year and all we keep hearing is that the Community Board will never support our request for approval of a liquor license because there are too many bars in the neighborhood now.

Can you imagine that? The Lower East Side and the East Village Community Board can tolerate what my grandfather would have called the mishigas and meshugine but have no place for a proven cultural icon like Luna Lounge and a possible club connected to the most important New York rock musician who ever lived — yeah, that's right, the most important New York rock musician ever!

A lot of up-and-coming bands came in and out of your doors at the Luna Lounge, which closed in June 2005 when the landlord sold the building to a developer. Which band made the most immediate impact on you?

That's a tough question to answer because, in so many ways, I feel like so many of those artists were like my children. I never had any of my own so those bands were like my kids. Here's a short list. Of course, The Strokes, Interpol and The National are now three of the biggest bands in the world and those three are, without doubt, the three biggest New York bands of the last decade. All three of these bands did their very first shows at Luna Lounge and I am grateful to have helped in some way to nurture the start of their careers.

Beyond that, I still have a close friendship with Michael Jurin of stellastarr* and Steve Schiltz and Shannon Ferguson of Longwave. I feel like I had a lot of influence in helping both of those bands get started. Steve and I talk all the time and I am so honored to have him in my life. I think Steve Schiltz is the most underrated musician I know. I just love the music he creates. And last, I was fortunate to know the brilliant Elliott Smith for the short time he was with us in New York and the short time that he gave to us on this Earth.



How would you describe the state of the Lower East Side live music scene today?

Bands might come in from Brooklyn and might still play in a handful of clubs that offer sub-par basement spaces or play as one band on a bill of a baker's dozen on any given night but that is hardly an excuse for the idea of a scene.

With the exception of The Living Room, a worthy acoustic room, there is no club on the Lower East Side doing anything of any value in nurturing a scene — how can they with the fratboy, baseball cap, yuppie types that dominate the sidewalks? They are a cancer on any artistic scene on which they come in contact. And, that cancer is what killed the Lower East Side.

You can find an excerpt of the book here.

Q-&-A with Susan Seidelman, director of 'Smithereens' and 'Desperately Seeking Susan'

[Image via]

"Smithereens" starts a weeklong revival today at the Metrograph, the newish theater complex down on Ludlow Street.

The 1982 dark comedy, which marked Susan Seidelman's directorial debut, is set in the East Village (and other downtown locales). Wren (Susan Berman), a suburban New Jersey escapee, is eager for downtown fame, plastering "missing" posters of herself on the subway and elsewhere. She sees a meal ticket in Eric (Richard Hell), the hot guy with a short attention span in a band. And there's the too-nice Paul (Brad Rijn), who pursues the uninterested Wren. Hustling ensues.



Seidelman started filming in late 1979, and continued on and off for the next 18 months. (Production shut down when Berman broke a leg during rehearsal.) "Smithereens," made for $40,000, was the first American indie invited to compete for the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival.

She went on to make several female-focused comedies, including 1985's "Desperately Seeking Susan" with Rosanna Arquette and Madonna and 1989's "She-Devil" with Roseanne Barr and Meryl Streep, among others. (She also directed the pilot for "Sex and the City.")

I spoke with Seidelman about "Smithereens" and her follow-up, "Desperately Seeking Susan," also partly filmed in the East Village, during a phone call last week. Here's part of that conversation, edited for length and clarity.

On why she wanted to tell this story in "Smithereens":

I was living in the East Village and I was also at NYU. And at the time, NYU Film School, the graduate film school, was on Second Avenue — part of it was where the old Fillmore East used to be. So for three years, that area around Seventh Street and Second Avenue was my stomping grounds.

I started NYU in 1974, and I was there until 1977. So it was interesting to watch the transition from the older hippie generation and hippie-style shops and people as it started transitioning into the punk and new wave kind of subculture. I was a music person, so I frequented CBGB and Max’s Kansas City at that time. And so, that world was interesting to me, and telling a story set in that world about a young woman who’s not from that world, but wants to be part of it in some way, was both semi-personal and just of interest.

On production shutting down:

There were challenges throughout the shoot because I never had all the money. The budget ended up being about $40,000, but I probably only had about $20,000 at any given moment. I was borrowing and racking up bills. I wasn’t really thinking about how I was going to pay it. I figured I’d get to that when I needed to pay it.

Aside from those challenges, when Susan Berman fell off a fire escape and broke her leg during rehearsal, there was no getting around that. We had to quit filming. I kind of thought, oh, you know, fuck it — I’m not going to let this stop me. It made me actually more determined. I had the time to look at what was working and what wasn’t working, and I learned a lot of stuff. I started editing the footage. I could rewrite stuff and change the story a bit.

On casting Richard Hell:

That was when we redefined the character of Eric, who was originally not played by Richard Hell. It was played by somebody else who was not a rock-and-roller — he was more of a downtown painter/artsy type, not a musician — and was also played by a European actor.

By recasting and redefining that role with Richard Hell in mind, it shaped the tone of the movie and changed it, I think, in a good direction. I’m not going to give names, but the other actor — the other person is a working actor, as opposed to Richard Hell, who was acting in the movie, but was more of a presence and an iconic figure even at that time. So trying to make the character of Eric blend in with the real Richard Hell added a level of authenticity to the film.

On filming in the East Village:

In the scene when Wren is waiting out on the sidewalk and the landlady throws her clothing out the window and then splashes her with water, all the people and all the reactions in the background were from the people living on that block who had come out to watch.

At the time, New York was coming out the bankruptcy crisis. There weren’t a lot of police on the street, there wasn’t a lot of red tape and paperwork. These days to film on the street, you have to get a mayor’s permit — so many levels of bureaucracy. Back then, either it didn’t exist … but also I was naïve to what probably needed to be done.

We just showed up with cameras and we filmed. We had some people working on the crew who were friends and they told crowds lining in the street — just don’t look in the camera. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t, but it was all very spontaneous.

That’s the advantage of doing a super low-budget movie — you can just go with the flow. For example, there’s a scene with a kid who’s doing a three-card Monte thing on the sidewalk. He was a kid we saw in Tompkins Square Park with his mother. We didn’t have to worry about SAG or unions or anything. I thought he was interesting and [we asked his mother] if they come to this address at this time and be in our movie.



On the lead characters:

My intention wasn’t to make likable characters. My intention was to make interesting characters and who had some element of ambiguity. There are things that I like about Wren; on the other hand, I think she’s obviously somebody who uses people and is incredibly narcissistic. I’m aware of that. But she’s also somebody who is determined to recreate herself and to live the kind of life that she wants to live, and redefine herself from her background, which you get a little hint at, this boring suburban New Jersey life she must have run away from.

On the independent film scene at the time:

The definition of an independent filmmaker has changed so radically. Nowadays, being an independent filmmaker could mean you’re making a $5 million movie that’s really financed by the Weinstein Company, or it could mean you're doing a cellphone movie like “Tangerine.”

But back then, there weren’t that many independent filmmakers. I know there were some people working out of Los Angeles who were doing stuff and a small pocket of people in New York City. So either you knew them or you were friends with them or you just knew what they were doing and had mutual friends. It was truly a small community. And within that community, there were also a definite relationship between people who were musicians, filmmakers or graffiti artists.

So everyone was borrowing people, trading information or sharing resources. Also, the world wasn’t as competitive as it is today. People were eager and willing to help somebody who was a filmmaker would act in somebody else’s film or tell them about a location or a musician. It was pretty simple, like — hey, let’s make a movie, without a lot of calculation.

On her follow-up film, "Desperately Seeking Susan:"

I didn’t have anything lined up after "Smithereens." I didn’t know what I wanted to do next. I just finished the movie when it was accepted into the Cannes Film Festival.

But I did know that there were very few female film directors. And the one or two I had heard about who had made an interesting independent film ... I knew that your follow-up movie, especially if it was going to be financed by a studio, you needed to be smart about the choice. You had to make a movie that you could still be creatively in charge of, or else you could get lost in the shuffle.

For about a year and a half, I was reading scripts. And they were, for the most part, terrible. I just figured these couldn’t be my next movie. I have nothing to say about this kind of material.

So then I got this script. It was a little different than the way it ended up being, but it was called "Desperately Seeking Susan." I liked that the character, Susan, felt like she could be kind of related to Wren in "Smithereens." I thought I could bring something unique to that kind of a role. So I didn't feel like I was out of my element there.

And also, part of the film was set in the East Village, a neighborhood that I loved and knew. The other good thing was I was so familiar with the characters and able to add my own spin using a lot of people from the independent film community in small parts, like Rockets Redglare, John Lurie and Arto Lindsay. Richard Hell has a cameo.



On working with Madonna:

At the time, Madonna was not famous when we started out. We were just filming on the streets like she was a regular semi-unknown actress. So there wasn’t a lot of hoopla around the film.

And then, you know, so much of life is about being there with the right thing and the right timing. It just so happened that the movie came out at the moment that her "Like A Virgin" album was released and they coincided and she became a phenomenon. But since that wasn’t during the actual filming, there wasn’t the kind of pressure that one would normally feel if you were working with a big star or a a super-famous person.

On the legacy of "Smithereens":

I think I was trying to document what it felt like to live in that neighborhood in that part of the city at that time. I never really thought about it in terms of whether the film would pass the test of time or be a time capsule or anything.

But the fact that it ended up being pretty authentic to the environment, to the neighborhood, is maybe what enabled it to pass the test of time.

-----

The Metrograph is showing "Smithereens," which features a score by The Feelies, on a new 35-millimeter print courtesy of Shout Factory LLC. Seidelman will be attending tonight's 7 screening. Details here.

Local elected officials, NYCHA reps get firsthand look at the problems at Mariana Bracetti Plaza

Text and photos by Stacie Joy

In a follow up to our initial story on the living conditions at Mariana Bracetti Plaza housing, local elected officials, a representative from Community Board 3 and NYCHA deputies met with tenant activists Kanielle Hernandez and Yvette Maria this past Thursday to view the buildings and grounds and map a plan for change here on at the complex on Third Street and Fourth Street along Avenue C. 

Present were District 2 City Councilmember Carlina Rivera and her assistant Irak Cehonski, NYCHA Deputy Director for Security Safety Strategies Andre Cirilo, NYCHA Regional Asset Manager Brenda Allen, State Assemblymember Harvey Epstein and his Chief of Staff John Blasco (who has been particularly active in assisting people living in public housing) and Community Board 3’s District Manager Susan Stetzer. 

The group did a walkthrough to inspect the conditions of the buildings, making note of what needed to be done on both city and state levels to effect change. 

During the tour, the group witnessed and discussed flooding, leaks, sewage and infrastructure issues, broken door locks, cracked pavements, sidewalk shed safety concerns, trespassing, nonfunctioning elevators, biohazards, and PSA4 (housing police) response, drug use and busted locks.

The tenant activists are hoping to start a tenant patrol and resident association, as well as partner with NYCHA and elected officials to bring about change in the quality-of-life conditions. 

After the tour, I talked with Kanielle to see what has happened after our story was published this past Jan. 14, what is currently occurring, and what she sees in the future.

How did you feel when your tenant activism brought together city, state, and NYCHA representatives to help fix the conditions you detailed in your interview?

I felt great. I walked away feeling hopeful and thankful. I know everyone is busy but having them all come and hear us was amazing. The energy was one of unity. We took turns talking and listening. It felt nice to meet them in person and actually interact with one another. 

A divided community doesn’t get heard. It gets abandoned and taken over. The more we come together and unite our skills and resources we can identify, understand, and resolve the issues more effectively. 

Can you speak a bit about what happened after the story was published?

 

Since the story has published it seems like a lot has happened. Sadly, though a man was shot and killed on the corner of Third Street and Avenue C. There has been a lot more police presence in the building and the community since the shooting. Our front door was also fixed. And there seems to be fewer drug addicts waiting around in front of our building.

 

The walkthrough was put together by Assemblyman Harvey Epstein’s team. They reached out to me after the story was published and set up a conference call. Harvey, Aura [Olavarria] and John [Blasco] have been great. I also met Carlina Rivera and her team and two NYCHA representatives. I have connected with a lot of new people from the neighborhood. Most of them also dealing with a lot of the same issues.

 

What do you see going forward? What are some of the resolutions proposed at today's meeting?

 
Moving forward I see a lot of positive results. I see more unity in agencies, NYPD and the community. 
 
NYCHA has a resident watch division. It’s a part of the tenant patrol program. Tenant patrol is currently inactive due to COVID. The resident watch has created a tip-line number, which can be reached anonymously. It’s for the tenants so they can now report things like homeless addicts sleeping in our hallway, or getting high in the staircases.
 
And for neighbors that allow their guests to disrespect our building with illegal activity or inconsiderate behavior. For example, groups of people smoking, drinking and playing loud music in the hallways. Or neighbors that let their dogs piss and shit in the hallways and don’t clean it up. 

For the tenants who refuse to stop smoking cigarettes in the elevators. Your apartment will be given a warning. The security cameras work and the resident watch department has access to them. 
 
I would hate to see anyone lose their apartment over things that can be adjusted. Wait until you go outside to light your cigarette. Play your music but if the walls are vibrating then it’s just a li’l too loud. I’m not saying stop playing the music, I’m asking to simply lower it to a reasonable and considerate volume. Remind your guests when they visit to act accordingly. 

And if they are visiting you and are caught soliciting in the hallway or staircase then your apartment will receive a warning. A second warning will be an official complaint to management. Hopefully, tenants and their guests will get on board with the new boundaries set in place with the intention to restore peace and safety in our building. 
 
Another NYCHA representative took pictures and noted the building conditions and said she would work on NYCHA’s part. And the elected officials are doing their part by staying on top of the issues and working toward getting outreach programs for the homeless. Everyone seems on board with working together to rectify the issues at hand. 

And I have been busy with research, emails, meetings, and tons of phone calls. Gaining knowledge is imperative to pursuing this the right way. Along with a lot of patience and gratitude. 
 
What are some of the reactions (positive or negative) you received from neighbors?

The story received such positive feedback! And a lot of support, which I’m extremely grateful for. It’s been super encouraging. To the people who left such nice comments, thank you! You’re awesome and appreciated. It showed me that I wasn’t the only one with the same feelings and concerns for the conditions of our building and neighborhood. 
 
There actually hasn’t been much in terms of negative reactions. At least none that I’m aware of. Hopefully, I’m not jinxing it [laughs]. But my intention is not to cause any more negativity. I don’t know what the future holds for our building and our community as a whole, but I do intend to continue speaking up until we see the changes we want and deserve.
 
Anyone — all inquiries will remain anonymous — interested in hearing more or has any questions and/or concerns can email us at ourcommunityisyourcommunityles@gmail.com and/or sign the petition here.

Previously on EV Grieve:

• Residents say dangerous safety conditions at Mariana Bracetti Plaza lead to illegal and hazardous activities

• Another look at conditions in and around the Mariana Bracetti Plaza public housing complex  

Can't stop the laughing, er, music

For the holiday weekend, let's pay homage to a most deliriously awful movie set in New York, 1980's "Can't Stop the Music." There's camp-o-rama galore with Valerie Perrine, Steve Guttenberg, Bruce Jenner and the Village People.

You've seen it, right? (It's OK if you have -- I actually own the damn thing. Think I paid $2 for it. Or so I'm claiming.)

The rather grainy-looking intro gives you all you need to know. Enjoy!

Out and About in the East Village, Part 2

In this weekly feature, East Village-based photographer James Maher provides us with a quick snapshot of someone who lives and/or works in the East Village.



By James Maher

Name: Melissa Elledge
Occupation: Musician, Subway Performer
Location: East 9th Street and 1st Avenue
Date: July 31, Second Avenue F stop

I just finished a solo CD a few months ago for a suggested donation. I’ve met so many people and I’ve gotten a lot of gigs from it too. You’re a walking business card. That’s the reason why I’m in probably half the bands I’ve been in.

I also decided to tryout to get a permit for Music Under New York (MUNY). They give you a permit to play. There are certain stations that you need a permit to play in, like Grand Central and Union Square. It’s kind of hard to get a permit. About 300 people apply every year. When you apply you send in a CD or DVD and they choose about 50 to audition and, of those, about 25 get permits.

So I got one in 2012, but I don’t really play in those spots a lot. I tend to stick to 2nd Avenue on the downtown F and at 14th Street and 6th Avenue. The MUNY spots are not actually lucrative. Times Square is just a million people walking by and they have all these different paths. On a platform they have to walk by you. It’s a captive audience. I feel closer to the public down there. People think that I get most of my tips from tourists, but it’s really not. It’s people who work and live in the neighborhood.

There are people who give me a dollar every single time they see me. And tourists appreciate it like it’s part of their tour package. You’re constantly looked at like you’re in a fishbowl and I’m like, ‘No, I’m doing this for a living.’ I’m not just a statue. People sometimes see me down there and they think, ‘Oh she’s so mysterious, where does she live?’ I want people to know that I’m not a mole person. I actually live somewhere. I live in the East Village. This is my job.

I did actually get robbed and assaulted when I was busking once. This was two years ago. It was bizarre because even that was under the guise of being loved. It was this crazy crackhead lady. I saw her the day before and even that was weird. She was like, ‘Oh, you are so great, you go girl’ and just chatting me up and everything. She was like, ‘Hey I just have a $5 bill, I’m just going to get change.’

I had this weird feeling that day that she took more than she put down and I kind of made a mental note that it was time to stop letting people do that. So the very next day I was in the same spot at the same time and I saw her again and once again she was like, ‘Oh man, you’re so great, I love it when you’re here’ and she was chatting up everybody on the platform. I was watching her and she started standing closer and closer to me and the train comes up and then all of a sudden her hand plunged into my case. I stopped playing and pushed her hand away and said, ‘What are you doing?’ She was like, ‘Oh, I just dropped a $20 in there and I’m just getting change.’ There wasn't a $20 in there.

The train was there but nobody was noticing. There were hundreds of people around and it was like 2 p.m. on a Tuesday. I’m trying to attract attention. She was huge, like twice my size, and she’s trying to push me back. I’m just grabbing at her and then she just turns around out of nowhere and just punches me in the mouth. I’ve never been hit in the face in my life. It was like a dream until I felt the taste of blood in my mouth. I didn’t know what to do and so I just kicked her as hard as I could and then she turned around and punched me in the nose as hard as she could. But the funny thing was that the whole time she was taking her time to get into the train. She was not running down the platform or into the train. She was still obeying the law of etiquette where you let people off the train. She was waiting in a line of people to get on ... You can rob people, but you’ve got to follow the rules of the train. It’s been enough years where I can forgive her and say at least she knew that part.

I spent the rest of the day with the cops and they asked me, 'So are you going to keep doing this? Are you going to be back tomorrow or next week?' I was sitting there covered in blood and tears and sweat in early July, and I said I didn’t know. I felt very differently about what I was doing but they all said independently of each other that 'this is just an isolated incident. You can’t let this keep you from doing this. This is what you love to do and the city likes subway musicians.' I took a week off and then went back to the same spot.

There are people who come to this city and they expect something from it. They expect the city to give them something. I’ve never taken that viewpoint. I always felt like if I wasn’t giving something, I felt bad.

There were a couple of dark years after I got my master's and before I started playing the accordion and I would look at people collecting the trash or doing construction and I would envy them because they were actually putting something back into the city. I wasn’t doing that. I was just checking coats at Don Hills. I never want to feel like that, to feel like I wasn’t contributing, and for me that is playing in the subway. It’s a small thing to do. It’s not like I’m building places for the homeless but it’s my contribution.

Read Part 1 here.

James Maher is a fine art and studio photographer based in the East Village. Find his website here.

The apartment where the golden rule 'is that no one else can tell anyone else to be quiet'

[Via @TimHerrera]

An East Village apartment-for-rent listing via Craigslist has been making the rounds of late. (The ad is no longer live.)

Esquire wrote about it last week in a post titled Is This the Worst NYC Apartment Listing You've Ever Seen?

Sounds promising!

Apparently the ad is for real... here are some excerpts...

"We are all in our late 20's - early 30's here in NYC to live it up, take advantage of the sweet neighborhood, and have as much fun as possible while still managing to make it to work on time!"

"We all play in bands, love live music, and entertain guests on a regular basis along with the occasional open jam session at random hours of the night."

"If you are the type of person whose main source of entertainment is sitting at home, watching Netflix on your laptop, this apartment is definitely not for you.

"The neighborhood is loud, people in the building make a ton of noise, once in while, you may even want to pop in some ear-plugs... but we love it here!! There is a drum-kit in the common room along with guitars & amplifiers, where we jam out on a regular basis, create art, and engage in stimulating conversations with other tenants in the building. If this is something you would enjoy, please join us!"

The rent is $1,325.

And the room measures 11 x 6.

Anyway, Esquire spoke with the person who takes out the for rent ad. His name is Haffro.

And here's part of the Q-and-A between Esquire and Haffro:

How big is that place? It seems pretty small from the description.

It's a four-bedroom. Actually, a three-bedroom apartment, but I moved into the utility closet. It's a pretty big closet, 6 x 5. I live in there, and I just rent out the rooms. The biggest bedroom is 12 x 11, the middle is 12 x 10, the smallest is 11 x 6. They're all fully furnished, so when people come in, I don't have them bring their own shit. The ideal roommate would be someone moving in, coming to NYC with a suitcase and a backpack. The entire place costs $3800.

What reactions have you gotten to the Craigslist ad?

We don't really get that many responses. I probably get five or six each time I repost it. You can repost it every 48 hours. When I do get a response, I have another response I cut and paste in there, and the main thing is, I'm like, "All right, I just want you to know, in our apartment I think of it like a living, breathing art space. We have one golden rule, and the one rule is that no one else can tell anyone else to be quiet."

After being told that some people think it sounds like the worst living situation ever, Haffro responds:

If you don't like live music, what do you like? What're you gonna watch, Netflix? It pisses me off. We're trying to create a creative environment; people can bring their guitars, smoke weed. It's a very progressive building. Some people will walk by and say, "I saw the door open, I heard some music, I thought I'd stop in." I mean, you know the East Village, you know the idea. It used to be very punk rock. It's not like that now, kind of boutique a little bit, fancy cocktail bars. For me, I just live at dive bars, just mop bucket, disgusting-smelling bars. Those are the places I like...

H/T @FashionByHe

I Am a Rent-Stabilized Tenant

East Village resident Susan Schiffman has been photographing the apartments of rent-stabilized tenants living in the East Village for her Instagram account, I Am a Rent Stabilized Tenant. She will share some of the photos here for this ongoing EVG feature.

Photos and text by Susan Schiffman

Tenant: Anthony, since 1990

Why did you move to the East Village. How did you find your apartment?

I am a fifth-generation New Yorker, and have had several apartments in New York City. On the side while working with the HIV epidemic from the start of the 1980s, I did volunteer workshops in prisons and communities in conflict resolution and community building. I saved, and in 1990, decided to travel and see what other people and organizations were doing to bring those torn apart by hate together, and to freely share the curricular that was inspiring me.

The areas of major conflict in our news at the time were Northern Ireland, Northern India, South Africa, Israel and Palestine. It was an open plane ticket, and I envisioned possibly finding another home, another call. The journey did reinforce fully the sense that the earth and all its people really are my family, my wider home.

I guess it was family that called me back. I came back. I had let go of my apartment like many of us foolishly do. I left the city actually two times before when I had had it with the grit, and felt that I would not be coming back.

After several months, I landed again at the end of 1990 looking for another place to stay. Back then, we didn’t really worry about it too much — we could always find a place.

My dear, late cousin Bill Donovan, two months apart from me, lived in this space. I grew up with Bill, loved him very much. I miss him terribly. He was a wonderful artist. He lived in this space, once filled from wall to wall with his paintings. He worked at Pearl Paint on Canal Street at the time. Bill fell in love about the same time I landed. He said, “I have to move out of my place, I just fell in love and it's looking serious. (Marriage and beautiful daughter Kirsten ensued.) Why don’t you take my apartment?”

I gave myself one month to live here. Absolutely tiny, but I could put my bags down and look for another place. I never intended to stay here. As you can see, I wouldn’t be able to have a wife or child in this apartment. It probably contributed to my being single these years.

I got really busy and didn’t have time to look for another place. The apartment was convenient. The location was good. I always felt my history here. My great, great grandparents on my mother’s side, the McAllisters, were married on Avenue B and Eighth Street in St. Brigid’s in 1867.

Since 1864, McAllister tugboats, barges and shipping family still ply the waters of our harbor. Our great protected harbor, the prime reason the Dutch settled and world trade became centered here. I worked in the shipyards and tugs as a youth, including a wild offshore adventure.

But as a teenager, I was right around the corner at the Fillmore East a lot. The Fillmore was a spiritual place in my memory. It was where black, brown and white kids met through music and carried the message of our time: stop war, get together. I have this apartment today only because of the way the universe works.











What do you love about your apartment?

I was reluctant to live here. I got over the fact that the apartment is tiny after traveling the world and seeing poverty in many areas of the world. I realized how precious it is to have a small space, to have a space of my own.

I give thanks for the space and for the refuge. Having a tiny place has forced me to not have clutter. What you see here now and under here and over there is because my beloved mom passed away. I haven’t gone through all of her boxes yet. It’s an ongoing process.

A small place enables one to focus. I’ve been able to produce all of my documentaries and writings in this little space. At one time all of the walls had to be covered with storyboards. It’s become a sacred space for me.

It has also become a refuge to rescue two beautiful companions — my cats. I do have a penchant for space. I spend a lot of time not in this space, but in our city and in our neighborhood. I am compelled to spend much time in this neighborhood's religious spaces.

Within a 10 minute walk of this apartment in any direction, there is a Tibetan temple, a Hindu temple, three Jewish synagogues, a Catholic, Protestant, Episcopal, Russian Orthodox, a few Latino churches, a Sufi group, and a Mosque, etc. I've learned to love these sacred spaces and their faith leaders, the true living preservationists of the culture and history of our neighborhood.

I grew up with parents who were very open, curious, loving and very appreciative of other cultures. My father was a world historian and my mother lived the phrase “a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet.” She saw the best and the light in all people. It's the gift from these two humans. I just love the different faiths being so close and the ethnic diversity in a place where I could pursue my passions and not have to spend all of my money and time worrying about rent.

My heart and efforts go out to the youth today. We've lost most of all the mom-and-pop shops due to rents doubling and tripling. We've had to fight hard the developers and irresponsible DOB and landlords, but my apartment remains a refuge and a haven.

For decades my passion is to help stop the secretive, non-democratic nuclear weapons industry, with it's false sense of security, lies, their unfathomable taxpayer cost and great current threat to all life, climate and humanity.

The last large work made in this apartment is my 2015 film "Good Thinking, Those Who've Tried to Halt Nuclear Weapons."

What initially bothered me about my little place here is I didn’t have those cavernous spaces over my head where expanding thought comes more naturally. I so appreciate space. This little spot on earth forms the center of the universe, of a wheel where I can then venture out.



If you're interested in inviting Susan in to photograph your apartment for an upcoming post, then you may contact her via this email.

RIP Alan Vega

[Image via]

Alan Vega, one half of the seminal electronic duo Suicide, died yesterday. He was 78.

Henry Rollins first reported the news via his website. Rollins also posted a message from Vega's family:

With profound sadness and a stillness that only news like this can bring, we regret to inform you that the great artist and creative force, Alan Vega has passed away.

Alan passed peacefully in his sleep last night, July 16. He was 78 years of age.

Alan was not only relentlessly creative, writing music and painting until the end, he was also startlingly unique. Along with Martin Rev, in the early 1970’s, they formed the two person avant band known as Suicide. Almost immediately, their incredible and unclassifiable music went against every possible grain. Their confrontational live performances, light-years before Punk Rock, are the stuff of legend. Their first, self-titled album is one of the single most challenging and noteworthy achievements in American music.

Alan Vega was the quintessential artist on every imaginable level. His entire life was devoted to outputting what his vision commanded of him.

One of the greatest aspects of Alan Vega was his unflinching adherence to the demands of his art. He only did what he wanted. Simply put, he lived to create. After decades of constant output, the world seemed to catch up with Alan and he was acknowledged as the groundbreaking creative individual he had been from the very start.

Alan’s life is a lesson of what it is to truly live for art. The work, the incredible amount of time required, the courage to keep seeing it and the strength to bring it forth—this was Alan Vega.

Alan is survived by his amazing family, wife Liz and son Dante. His incredible body of work, spanning five decades, will be with us forever.

As NME noted, the Jesus And Mary Chain, Bruce Springsteen, Thurston Moore, Nick Cave, New Order, Steve Albini, MIA and LCD Soundsystem are among the bands-musicians who have cited Suicide and Vega as an influence on their own music.

Early on, though, Vega, who was born in Bensonhurst, didn't think that people liked the band so much.

From a profile in Brooklyn magazine last December:

Vega, New York City punk icon, spent over a decade convinced that no one liked his band. “Suicide was hated by everybody. Everybody! It’s true. You should have seen the night we opened for The Ramones [at CBGBs],” he says. “They were late. Hilly [Kristal, CBGBs owner] was going nuts. So we had to go on… again! You should have heard the fuckin’ ‘Booooooooooooooooo.’ You couldn’t stop it, it was endless. Finally, the Ramones showed up, but Jesus Christ, we still had to do a few songs.”

He can laugh about it now, but for him and bandmate Martin Rev, the 70s were pretty rough. “They hated us from the day we started.” So he started swinging bicycle chains at their gigs to overtly menace the crowds unready to embrace Suicide’s brutally minimal, sorta terrifying music, because, fuck ‘em.

Updated

A few tributes via Instagram...

Rest in peace my friend - Alan Vega will be Dearly missed. Such a fucking true artist and beautiful person!!!

A photo posted by Jesse Malin (@jesse_malin) on Jul 17, 2016 at 9:50am PDT

RIP Alan Vega of Suicide who died yesterday, sad. A really sweet guy, innovator. Here with his partner Marty Rev and Debbie someplace around times square mid seventies

A photo posted by 🅒🅗🅡🅘🅢 🅢🅣🅔🅘🅝 (@christein) on Jul 17, 2016 at 6:28am PDT

Thinking of Alan Vega today. Woke up to this picture floating around the web portending the bad news. Unlike anything I'd ever seen onstage when I shot this at CBGB in 1977. Always warm & supportive in person. My thoughts go out to his wife Liz & son Dante. Also Rev. So glad I saw them astound the crowd at Webster Hall last year. Dream Baby Dream. #photobygodlis

A photo posted by Godlis (@godlis) on Jul 17, 2016 at 12:33pm PDT

RIP #AlanVega You were beyond us. A future beyond any youtu.be/7WqOMPakGCg

A photo posted by Ryan Adams (@misterryanadams) on Jul 17, 2016 at 12:21am PDT