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Montrose Voice, No. 164, December 16, 1983
File 013
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Montrose Voice, No. 164, December 16, 1983 - File 013. 1983-12-16. University of Houston Libraries. University of Houston Digital Library. Web. May 28, 2020. https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/montrose/item/143/show/130.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

(1983-12-16). Montrose Voice, No. 164, December 16, 1983 - File 013. Montrose Voice. University of Houston Libraries. Retrieved from https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/montrose/item/143/show/130

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Montrose Voice, No. 164, December 16, 1983 - File 013, 1983-12-16, Montrose Voice, University of Houston Libraries, accessed May 28, 2020, https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/montrose/item/143/show/130.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

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Title Montrose Voice, No. 164, December 16, 1983
Contributor
  • McClurg, Henry
  • Hyde, Robert
Publisher Community Publishing Company
Date December 16, 1983
Language English
Subject
  • LGBTQ community
  • LGBTQ people
  • Gay liberation movement
Place
  • Houston, Texas
Genre
  • newspapers
Type
  • Text
Identifier OCLC: 22329406
Collection
  • University of Houston Libraries Special Collections
  • LGBT Research Collection
  • Montrose Voice
Rights In Copyright
Note This item was digitized from materials loaned by the Gulf Coast Archive and Museum (GCAM).
Item Description
Title File 013
Transcript 12 Montrose Voice/ Dec. 16,1983 Montrose Art Avant-Garde Art Crowd Gathers Just Across the Bayou By Jeff Bray The drive in the car was hysterical enough—Marilyn and Kathy in their evening gowns, Marshall and Mark in nice tuxedoes, and me in my New Wave outfit, make-up and all. We had all received our invitations to the gala event at the Jack Pearce Warehouse, 908 Wood, north of downtown, across the bayou. Actually, it was a little frightening as we got to that "no-man's land" area on that side of the city—especially dressed as formally as we were. There was a beam of light swirling in the night sky above the bayou, and as we drew closer to the massive white warehouse, we could see what looked like a K- Mart parking lot on Christmas Eve. Thousands of cars covered the area, and the thumping of loud music filled the air, rather like sitting at the stop light in front of Mary's on a Saturday night. We parked the car and walked across the pitted gravel lot to the rough street, then down the block to the massive three story warehouse where all the noise was coming from. Around us, others were walking, like moths converging on a bright fire. Everyone was dressed to kill. Some were in Punk attire (whatever that really is), and others were quite formally dressed, looking as though they had just left the opera. After all, this was the sort of avant-garde event that stimulates an otherwise drab evening—even for the jet set. At the door, we paid and walked into the most bizarre fantasy setting ever concocted for semi-public amusement in Houston. The city was left behind. Reality was thrown away. Men wore eye shadow and lipstick, and women dressed in expensive rags and diamonds. The place was seething with people of every walk of life— Jack Pearce Warehouse; Looking like a scene from "The Day After" but containing creative fuel for the future. many looking like they didn't belong and others looking like they would never leave. I couldn't help but wonder where all these beautifully weird people lurk during the day. Had the party dragged them out of their lairs like old stoats? The first floor held a massive dance floor and lobby, with several stairways leading up to the second floor. The Houston New Wave bands, Voices and The Switch, played hard-edged music in the new mode, while a multitude of the glittering crowd massed around the stage, dancing and hopping. Yes, gays and nongays shared the floor, and it really made the whole event so much more interesting. On the second floor, literally hundreds ^e L^UontAose Qfaio. woaU to to take tdis opportunity to ttaiifc fie community jpK oSS. ol its support oi/eA tfce post two years. QA^e Hook jpuwaxd to sewing you as your SetfuaMy O'/tansmitted (Disease Cfouc in the rjuture. ^e are a i^unteeA-ope/iated cte stoing to gii/e you the best possible seri/ice at the fewest possible cost. Mtoty Ctostmas g ^appy cAleu/ QjeaA 104 WESTHEIMER AT BAGBY 528-5531 THE MONTROSE CUMC of people pressed into a large room, hung with colored fabric and neon art, while cryptic fashion was displayed on a makeshift runway. The models were certainly not what would be seen in a regular haute monde ramp in Milan or Paris, but then this is Houston—Space City—land of the future. The effect was to shock, and the clothing shocked and pleased and added to the totally decadent atmosphere of the whole event. On the third floor, more art was displayed in separate galleries. In fact, the whole warehouse is full of little galleries and studios, occupied by a host of Houston's most gifted photographers, sculptures, designers and painters. The artists were hard to trac*k down because of the massive press of sightseers, but the art was truly original and inspirational. George & George, photographers, had some of the most unusual photos on display. Particularly interesting were some black and white pictures, depicting murder scenes. One photo had a vampy looking woman wearing feathers and leather. She carried a meat cleaver in her hand, and the bottom half of a man in jeans was lying in front of her in a pool of blood. Another photo was called "Child Support," with another vampy looking woman holding a set of tongs with an unmentionable piece of male anatomy dripping from them. Again, the legs of a man were lying at her feet in a pool. Aside from these grisley little photo funnies, much of the other photography was beautifully done, and certainly not as sadistically. Other interesting art displayed on the third floor was the neon sculpture of Jon Piccinin. His was certainly some of the most colorful work in the building, being illuminated by neon gas and formed into intriguing shapes and brilliant colors. His is not the normal type of neon art that is mass produced in the novelty shops (palm trees, flamingo, etc.). His neon sculptures are very sophisticated, looking as though they would actually be more at home in some big corporate office lobby than on the front porch for the neighbors to see. Neon art is surprisingly reasonably priced, and Piccinin says that contrary to popular belief, neon does not cost that much to maintain. The colors neon offers are brilliant and exciting, and although neon has been around for quite a while, the art of molding it for more than restaurant signs is comparativelv new. There were so many artists represented that it would be impossible to cover them A campus work crew at Williams College all in this story. The best thing to do is to in Massachusetts recently bulldozed what see them for yourself. they thought was a heap of junk. Trouble There have been rumors of this ware- was, it was really an internationally house art community spreading over the acclaimed work of art, reports the Boston city for the last couple of years, and it was Globe. all too evident that the rumor was not There was no comment from red-faced false! The whole building simply burst at college officials, but the artist says she's the seams with creativity. It was the type "upset and surprised." of place that one envisions gifted artists of the future writing about in their autobiographies; like certain alleyways of Paris and London, or inspirational settings like lofts in New York or villas in Biarritz. Well, this is Houston, and as an artistic center, the city is not that terribly well established in the world—but something is changing. With the end of the oil boom, the city is searching for new and more lasting means of notoriety. There is a sculpture boom downtown, and publications are beginning to find some creative vent here. The movie industry has been having a field day in Houston over the past few years (Terms of Endearment and The Man Who Loved Women), and now there are some real art communities springing up. The reason for the great warehouse event was to promote a new cultural information and half-price ticket center called SHOWTIX—something many major cities in the world have. SHOWTIX is a story in itself but, in short, it will provide last-minute opportunity for people to see cultural events at lower prices in Houston's faBt-growing cultural centers (for information, call Arts For Everyone, 522- 3744). After many hours of wandering through the warehouse, drinking wine and talking to artists and other visitors, we finally made our way out to the carefully guarded parking lots. It had been a night to remember. The neon hallways; the pounding music; the wonderful fashions; the light-hearted and thoroughly entertained crowds of people, looking like children exploring a hidden world of wonders for the first time. Indeed, we had seen something that was hidden and wonderful- real originality in a city that seems sometimes to hide its talent behind glass and marble and granite. This was bold illumination and creativity thrown open to the world through the medium of warehouse walls and iron elevator doors—not silent, shiny underground passageways and melodical muffled Musak compartments. Beware, Houstonians. One of these days, if this trend continues, you may not have to go to New York or San Francisco for your entertainment. Who knows. They may have to start reserving their tickets in advance to come here1. Acclaimed Art Mistaken for Junk
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