BrightestYoungThings: Counter Cultural Festival

The Counter Cultural Festival happened for the last time at Dr. Dremo’s in Arlington on Saturday. Not the last time ever, just at Dremo’s, since, hey-- have you heard it is closing? The biggest loss will be the easy Taco Bell access at bar time, since this yearly showcase of cartoonists, artists, musicians and other craft people will be moving on to bigger and better venues. As an inside source at DC Conspiracy told us late Saturday night, “I can’t wait to be somewhere else next year, there’s always something going wrong at Dremo’s.” Maybe this was just frustration at the last-minute inclusion of a door charge by the bar, for a Relocation Fund (aka owners' pockets), none of which went to the dozens of performers and organizers who expected that the show would be free for their friends or fans. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding, but apparently this isn’t the first time the management has pulled a chaos-inducing late policy change on the festival, leaving more of a bitter than a bittersweet farewell to the space.

(photos by: Ryan Wakeman)

But even if they were in perfect accord, the festival has grown too big for the downstairs area anyway, with various artists hawking their wares on the pool tables in the front room as well. This growth will surely be even greater next year, despite the fact that the organizers seem to have been pretty selective about who is allowed to have a booth. Maybe it’s just a happy accident, but I felt wandering around like everyone involved had oh so impeccable taste. Though not everything was tasteful (comic book artist Dale Rawlings short piece Artichoke is one of the most fantastically disgusting things I’ve ever encountered), every type of craft was on the pretty darn cool side of the spectrum, from the hand-painted belts of Jon Wye, to August Adams’ novel about a coffee-company that tries to overthrow the US government National Darkroast Day. Very few bedazzled wolf sweaters or cheesy giant-boobed superhero comics around, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

(photos by Ryan Wakeman)

I am continually delighted by the emergence of comic book authors that are, to put it delicately, chicks. The medium has been a boy-dominated culture for a long time, but these days, at least in indie circuits, women make up a huge percentage of writers and artists as well as fans. To be honest, I’m way more likely to read something by a new woman author, not (just) because I like girls, but because their visual sensibilities are way less likely to be infected with stale glossy Image superhero clichés or the mopey Crumb/Bagge grungey sex obsessions that have floated Fantagraphics for a decade. Among the tables I discovered the cartoony but adult style of Molly Lawless , Rebecca Sims’ Girl Ninja and Curls Studios which consists of artist Carolyn Belefski and writer Joe Carabeo. Other favorites (besides BYT’s in-house cartoonist Evan Keeling of course): Chandi Kelle’s recycled tie brackets and wallets, R.M. Rhodes’ utterly bizarre comic/photography book Lars Las Vegas and Raina Hassan’s hand-painted moleskin notebooks which are guaranteed to make your shitty emo poetry 20% less shitty. I may not be comfortable enough with my sexuality to buy one of Beth Baldwin’s awesome stuffed baddies (like Fun Gus or Bruised Ghost), but neither was I man enough to get a tattoo on the premises by RA Ink . Maybe if they’d waited around till I had a couple six more beers, though the legality of that may still be causing Dremo’s management nightmares.

The performers ranged from excellent dirt-punk (Blonsai ) to somewhat standard but catchy indie-pop (Boats to Tangier) on down. The Cheeky Monkey Sideshow was relatively entertaining (I’m not exactly a sideshow/burlesque connoisseur—they all kinda seem the same to me, though I always have fun watching them) up until the ringleader started accepting donations by allowing audience members to staple bills to his flesh. Now that’s dedication to a craft. The highlight of the musicians’ department was Schaffer the Darklord, who basically reversed that concept: he stapled lyrics to our faces for free. His songs are even more hilarious live than on Mark of the Beast, and when he sang Nerd Lust, every hipster comic-artist girl with spectacles and a Strong Bad shirt lit up like a roman candle. Where else would you rather be?

Maybe next year the Counter Cultural Festival will be in a bigger venue with a stage and a fancier line-up, but hopefully the classy DIY spirit won’t die. Maybe they’ll even find a place with Taco Bell next door again. Please? Anyone?

photos by: Raisa Patron