Los Angeles Times - 25.08.2019

F2 SUNDAY, AUGUST 25, 2019 LATIMES.COM/CALENDAR

Where can you paint your face like a beauty
queen with a raw, bloody, monster’s maw?
Sculpt a vulva on your bald head? Perform in a
cow suit, complete with udder, and feel com-
pletely at home? At Club Scum, of course, the
Latinx queer punk club in Montebello. The
monthly party celebrates its third anniversary
with an exhibition of photographs, video and
ephemera at the Armory Center for the Arts in
Pasadena.
We hear much talk about “safe spaces” and
“brave spaces,” where people are empowered to
bring their whole selves without fear of discrimi-
nation or harassment. Club Scum was con-
ceived by Rudy “Bleu” Garcia and Ray Sanchez
as an alternative to the white-dominated drag
and punk scenes in L.A. But “safe” and even
“brave” don’t begin to capture the energy and
spirit on view in this exhibition. Through the
eyes of its documenters, Club Scum comes
across as a “fierce space,” defiant and unapolo-
getic. It doesn’t just cross boundaries; it trans-
forms them.
The show opens with two display cases of
fliers, postcards, photo booth photos, set lists,
even a bathroom sign warning against “policing
gender” that has been blessed with several sets
of lipstick prints. One particularly striking flier
by Taco Guillen features a shirtless, tattooed
figure holding what looks like a reliquary box.
One of the figure’s eyes is blissfully closed; the
other is staring and bloodied, its surrounding
skin lined with cracks. The graphic sits per-
fectly at a nexus of horror, punk and transcen-
dence.
Most of the exhibition is given over to photo-
graphs. Daniel “Chino” Rodriguez contributes a
wall of snapshots overlapping in an unruly
onslaught that echoes the abundance they
document: crowded dance floors, teased hair,
bombastic makeup, plus an accordion player.
Anthony Mehlhaff ’s images are more dramatic:
Printed larger, in high-contrast black and white
or saturated color, they elevate subjects like the
crowd-surfing drag queen in “Drag Surfin’ USA”
to beatific heights.
Amina Cruz’s photographs capture more
intimate moments. “Blaue Tara” from 2017
depicts a mustachioed figure in full makeup
and a mesh tank top, topped off with a jeweled
collar and bralette. The subject holds a ciga-
rette and looks to one side, lips parted, caught
in a moment of stillness. Against a nearly solid
black ground, the figure’s long blond hair forms
a soft, fuzzy halo.
At the end of the gallery, in the center of a
wall plastered with fliers, is a video compilation
produced by Brian Johanson and Sarahjane
Pattwell. Here, the performers, dancers and
revelers really come to life as we get a better
sense not only of the humble, crowded space in
which these celebrations occur but of the fierce,
free spaces they create.

Armory Center for the Arts, 145 N. Raymond
Ave., Pasadena. Closed Tuesdays; through
Sept. 15. (626) 792-5101, armoryarts.org

Anthony Mehlhaff

A MOMENTof revelry is captured in “Drag Surfin’ USA” (2019), photographed by Anthony Mehlhaff, at Armory Center for the Arts.

Fierce, free, fabulous

By Sharon Mizota

ON VIEW

A CLUB-GOERis the subject of “Blaue Tara” (2017), photographed by Amina Cruz.

Photographs make up most of the exhibition. Fliers and set lists are included as well.

Amina Cruz

THE LATINXqueer punk club Club Scum, in action for three years, is the subject of the

exhibition. The scene at Club Scum is fun-loving, uninhibited and unapologetic.

Ian Byers-GamberArmory Center for the Arts

Redd Kross

“Beyond the Door”

(Merge)

Nearly four decades ago,

two misfit teenage brothers

with the last name McDon-

ald issued a 45 on the L.A.

indie Posh Boy. In doing so,

Red Cross became the

youngest L.A. punk band to

make a dent in the national

conversation. Across those

decades, Jeff McDonald and

Steven McDonald changed

the spelling of their band’s

name (a certain humanitar-

ian organization took is-

sue); made a series of killer

EPs and albums tapping

glam rock, B-movies and

girl-group oldies; signed a

multimillion-dollar deal

with Atlantic Records; got

dropped from that same

deal; got married, had kids

and kept playing.

This is a roundabout way

of saying that while many

decent Los Angeles rock

bands have come and gone,

the brothers McDonald

have not only endured but

prevailed. Their first album

in seven years is named

after an Italian horror film

and mixes ’60s-era Sunset

Strip sounds. Think of it as

the Beatles’ album “Revolv-

er” as channeled through

Marshall stacks and the

scream-along glam an-

thems of Sweet and the Bay

City Rollers. Among the

non-musical inspirations on

the record, which they detail

in press notes: “K-pop,

glitter gangs, embarrassed

tweens, long-term relation-

ships [and] a mysterious

character named Fantás-

tico Roberto.” With its

scream-along opening, the

title track suggests early

Quiet Riot — except dosed

with wink-wink irony. “Punk

II” is driven by drummer

Dale Crover’s hard pound,

adding the kind of heft he

brings to his primary band,

the Melvins. (The groups

will perform together at the

Troubadour on Sept. 5.)

Perhaps the best signal

of their approach comes via

Redd Kross’ cover of “When

Do I Get to Sing ‘My Way’ ”

by L.A. art-rock band

Sparks. The 1994 song,

about existential despair,

revels in regret while hold-

ing onto a touch of hope: “So

when do I get to sing ‘My

Way’? / When do I get to feel

like Sinatra felt? / When do I

get to sing “My Way’? / In

heaven or hell’?”

It’s a valid question for

both beloved (but underap-

preciated) sibling bands.

Redd Kross renders the

question moot, though, via

the songs on “Beyond the

Door.” With each verse,

chorus and guitar solo,

Redd Kross proves that

they’ve been singing their

variation on “My Way” their

entire lives.

CALIFORNIA

SOUNDS

Tim MosenfelderGetty Images

JEFFMcDonald has a

new Redd Kross album

out with brother Steven.

Redd

Kross

screams

anew

By Randall Roberts

ARTS & BOOKS

‘THEY

CALLED

US

ENEMY’

BOOKS, F6

HOW MUSIC

‘REBEL’

KELSEY LU

FOUND HER

VOICE

POP MUSIC, F5