Tyler Calpin Completes His First Solo Show as an Artist by Alex Young

Tyler Calpin standing in front of his pieces part of the “Searching for Jenny” exhibit at Social Status on Jan. 25, 2019. | photographs by Alex Young

Tyler Calpin standing in front of his pieces part of the “Searching for Jenny” exhibit at Social Status on Jan. 25, 2019. | photographs by Alex Young

Mid-show, he stops the conversation to cross the room and adjust one of his art pieces that shifted out of position from the significant crowd moving about the exhibit. Tyler Calpin was living out his dream of achieving his first solo show at a relevant destination for culture and community in Pittsburgh, the Social Status streetwear boutique. “It’s very surreal right now,” he described his emotions.

Inside the shop’s Downtown location last Friday, Jan. 25, 2019, Slim Tha DJ spun records for the young audience of artists and tastemakers supporting Calpin in his moment. Calpin showed “Searching for Jenny,” a photography exhibition dedicated to his hometown Youngstown, Ohio.

“Jenny” was the name of the last working blast furnace in the United States of America. The steel industry was vital to Youngstown’s economy and once it was shut down on September 19, 1977 it left a financial depression in the city. “There’s still a lot of stuff left over from it in terms of architecture or structures that are remaining that were around from that time,” Calpin said of the deteriorating, midwestern factory settings he photographed for his art. Calpin’s great-great and great-grandfathers worked in the Youngstown Steel mills. The work in “Searching for Jenny” connects Calpin to his family roots. Though his images focus on a past dead and gone, the colorful collage aspects to his art breathe life back into the buildings and parts that were lively about the Youngstown community before.

Honestly, Calpin is grateful for being able to leave Youngstown for Pittsburgh and add something to the culture here. While he’s doing his job at Social Status literally as a sales associate, the Pittsburgh transplant is also aware of the opportunities he has at the business platform to advance his own brand.

“For me, it’s just bringing people in and furthering the idea of community,” he said. It feels that way when potential customers walk in feeling welcomed, observing the sales associates, who are often local movers and shakers like Tyler Calpin or rapper My Favorite Color, openly converse about contemporary culture. “Whether it’s through fashion, sneakers or art… It started for me through skateboarding,” he explained. “All of these communities, as I’ve gown older, I can see how they all blend in a lot of ways.” Calpin’s location at Social Status makes him a familiar face when it comes to linking with other artists in these various scenes. “It shows people that we’re accessible and that we’re human,” he said. Calpin made the decision to utilize the shop for his artwork once he saw his college peer and fellow photographer Sharimar Cruz display her work there.

I think consistency is important in photography whether it’s pictures of yourself or consistency in your content.
— Tyler Calpin

Now, Calpin makes it work for himself in a “do-able” climate that’s not too busy or overwhelming like in big markets such as Los Angeles or New York. He meets his goals in Pittsburgh by “building genuine relationships, being yourself, and being consistent around those people,” he said. One of the relationships he’s continued to cultivate is with rapper Choo Jackson of ForeverKool Records. Calpin shot cover art, and merchandise looks for Choo. Next, he worked on Choo’s “Anime 2” album art with another artist Travis Carter. “I like to work with people who trust my ideas wholeheartedly,” Calpin said. “Be on the lookout for ‘Anime 2’ because that shit’s about to be fire,” he promoted.

Calpin wants to be known as “The King of the Midwest” stressing the value in regional notoriety rather than the coolness you get from being internationally or nationally recognized. With features in more shows, like those at Artists Image Resource gallery on the North Side on February 15 and April 12, he looks to expand to other cities like Chicago or Philadelphia. “I just want to keep producing work at the highest level possible,” he finished.

Tyler Calpin behind the sales counter at Social Status | photograph by Alex YoungRead the transcript of Tyler Calpin’s interview below.

Tyler Calpin behind the sales counter at Social Status | photograph by Alex Young

Read the transcript of Tyler Calpin’s interview below.


InTheRough: You have the infamous selfie mirror over there. Please talk about that energy.

Tyler Calpin: So, I started taking the mirror pics everyday just to show off what I was wearing and to show people I was in the store. See if I could bring people in through my Instagram, which sounds so corny. It became one of those things that people started to respond to it. I was like oh this is actually kinda fun. It’s something I can do consistently. I think consistency is important in photography whether it’s pictures of yourself or consistency in your content. It was just one of those things. As soon as people would come in the store and tell me, “Oh, I saw your pic. I saw you were here. Oh, that’s a dope fit.” I was like okay I gotta keep doing this everyday. The daily fit pic (laughs).

ITR: How do you try to use your role at Social Status to further your brand?

Calpin: Ultimately, I’m just a sales associate, so I’m just here to help customers and make sales. For me, it’s just bringing people in and furthering the idea of community whether it’s through fashion, sneakers or art. That’s really important to me because all of those things are tied together in a lot of ways. It started for me through skateboarding. All of these communities, as I’ve gown older, I can see how they all blend in a lot of ways and how they take things from each other to kind of further itself. I always use the example of “clout bags.” You know, the shoulder bags. People in skateboarding were using those two or three years before hypebeasts or anyone like that.

ITR: Before rappers.

Calpin: Yeah, it’s something you can throw your camera, a bottle of water, your phone or your wallet in. Sling it across your back and just go.

Basically, my role here is bring people around and get them hip to shopping here. For me, I’ve always wanted to work here since I came to Pittsburgh. I bought my first Bape tee here. I was hooked. Being able to do that for other people makes me feel very validated in a lot of ways, which is crazy to say just working a retail job, but making someone happy through a material good is super awesome.

ITR: It feels like the new-age barbershop in here. You guys are in here choppin’ it up and when you come in that’s really happening.

Calpin: That’s how it is and that’s what’s really important to me. I want people to feel like they can come in here and just say hi and hang out for a little bit. Have a conversation whether it’s about personal things or they want to chop it up about the culture, sneakers or whatever. That’s basically what we’re here for and that’s what’s really important to me. It shows people that we’re accessible and that we’re human.

[Playboi Carti’s “Yah Mean” plays in the background.]

ITR: How does it feel to achieve a goal? That goal being your first solo art show at Social Status because you’ve been striving for this for a couple years.

Images from Youngstown, Ohio by Tyler Calpin

View more work at his “@lil35mm” Instagram handle.

Calpin: It was one of the first things when I was living in a dorm room at Point Park [University] and I started coming here and being able to look at this stuff I couldn’t afford it then but it was so nice to be able and come and look and not feel like I wasn’t welcome here. Once I started to see they were part of the gallery crawl and it doubled as a space that was not only for sneakers and fashion culture, but for art as well it was important for me to get my work and myself in here. What really inspired me was seeing Shar [Sharimar Cruz] do her work here. She went to Point Park and I was in classes with her. Seeing how accessible it was to people that are around in the Downtown area, but Pittsburgh in general. I came here, I saw what I could do, and I set out to get that goal. It took longer than I wanted it to, but that’s how things go sometimes.

ITR: Yeah, time.

Calpin: Time is really important. Believe me, when I was 17 years old, I would’ve loved to have solo shows. But I didn’t have the knowledge. I didn’t have the resources. I didn’t have any idea of what it really took. Now, five years later I’m 22 years old and I have that knowledge. I have those resources and I have the capabilities and the ability to cultivate the opportunities to make those kind of things happen. Being able to have my first solo show here means a lot to me. It was that first place that really struck me I was like, “I gotta do it.” It’s very surreal right now. Seeing it on the walls is just crazy right now.

ITR: What does it mean to debut “Searching for Jenny” in Pittsburgh? Obviously you go to school here and you lived close by being from Youngstown. When’s the first time you saw Pittsburgh as an opportunity?

Calpin: I would say I saw Pittsburgh as an opportunity the second I started coming here. My friend Ben and I would come out on random Saturdays. We would come out when it’s this cold outside. For the record, it’s like single digits right now. We would come out we’d go to the South Side. Go to the skate shop. Get Primanti Bros. Go to the Strip District. Stuff like that. It just seemed like one of those cities that it was do-able. It’s bigger than Youngstown, but it’s not like L.A. or New York where things are so overwhelming or super busy. Once I got to Pittsburgh in 2015, I started to see people who I was close with getting opportunities. I was friends with a lot of the juniors and seniors when I was a freshman. That was when they started to get their solo shows and group shows and their opportunities. As soon as I started to see it work for other people, I knew it could work for me too. All it took was talking to the right people and being genuine. If I could tell myself that years ago, I would run with that information. Truthfully. If all I knew it took was building genuine relationships, being yourself, and being consistent around those people…

ITR: That’s the big part about it.

Calpin: Yeah, it’s really important to continue to cultivate those opportunities. It goes back to that community that we have here. When people stop in once or twice a week that’s awesome. We have people that come in if they’re Downtown they’ll stop in just to say hi. That’s really important because those are people that I know that care about us as human beings and they know we’re something more than just sales associates. We’re human beings and creatives as well. When people can see that about you and they’re more interested in your personal life than what they can get out of you at the store, that’s really important.

ITR: What’s your ultimate goal?

Calpin: My goal is to keep doing this shit man. I just want to keep producing work at the highest level possible whether that’s conceptually or just producing a lot of things. I have my hands in a ton of stuff right now. I want to keep it that way. I just want to keep it moving and see where it takes me because that’s what got me going in the first place and that’s going to keep me afloat. Ultimately, my goal is to keep doing shows whether it’s a group show or a solo show. Ideally, I want to be the king of the Midwest. I want my work to be known in a region. Being national and international is so cool, but that takes a lot of time. My goal after Pittsburgh is going to somewhere like Chicago or Philadelphia. I want to do some stuff in Cleveland and especially in the Youngstown area. I do plan to show this work in the Youngstown area because it would be so stupid to not show it there. Not only do I want the people of the area to see it and appreciate it, but I just want them to see someone from Youngstown started there, went somewhere else, did something with their life, and is paying it forward in a lot of ways. I’d like to see myself curate shows as well. That’s something that I do like to do. But, yeah, I just want to expand regionally before I start to make the jump nationally or internationally.

ITR: What’s your role with Reviving Real?

Calpin: Specifically with Reviving Real, I do a lot of the photography work almost all of the photography work. You know, just pushing the product and getting people hip to the idea that we’re not only a clothing brand, but we’re a media platform at this point. The clothing is more like merchandise to the platform We do artists’ spotlights, blog posts, and we just partnered with Matt’s Music Mine. I know he’s a great journalist so that merging of music and journalism and culture it’s really important. We make promotional videos. We help people build electronic press kits. People that are looking to expand how they advertise themselves and what they do whether it’s through music, photography or art. We help people get the resources to make those things happen. We also consult people. We’ll sit down and have a conversation with you for a small fee. That knowledge is so valuable. What’s 50 bucks for a two-hour conversation that could turn into 500 or a thousand dollars in two months if you really use that to your advantage.

Alex Young (left) and Tyler Calpin (right) in front of the infamous fit pic mirror at Social Status. | photograph by Tyler Calpin

Alex Young (left) and Tyler Calpin (right) in front of the infamous fit pic mirror at Social Status. | photograph by Tyler Calpin

ITR: How else do you plan to add to the Pittsburgh culture. You’ve worked with people in the scene like rapper Choo Jackson or you’ve done lookbooks for brands like vintage shop Senseless. How will you continue to use yourself as a resource to the community?

Calpin: Keep doing stuff like that to be honest with you. I don’t like to close myself off from people, but I like to work with people who are genuine, believe in me, and trust my ideas wholeheartedly. Keep doing work with people that trust me to come to the table with ideas knowing that I can produce it and make it a reality. People that are open to me and don’t think my prices are too high and understand why they are that why. I don’t ask for what I ask for just because I have bills to pay. It’s the level of the work that you’re going to receive. I’m not trying to be full of myself. You know what you’re going to get for that price and it’s not going to be some bottom of the barrel shit. You can find someone that’s gonna do it for 50 bucks and it’s gonna look like it’s 50 bucks. If I’m asking 300 or 400 dollars it’s going to look like a three or 400 dollar job. I’m not going to put 20 minutes into it. I’m going to make it my life for a week and a half if I have to to make it the product you want. If we have to go back to the drawing board, then so be it. I want people to be happy with what they receive from me, but also happy with what they’re paying for. I like to sit down with people in a pre-production meeting and talk about the ideas before we even touch a camera or open up my computer and start doing things. I’m very into that idea of making sure I deliver a product that my clients are happy with.

ITR: Respect. There’s nothing wrong with knowing your worth.

Calpin: I don’t know if I can say this, but I did do the “Anime 2” cover in a collab with another artist. His name is Travis Carter. Choo hit me up with idea and was like, “Hey I really want to use your collage style,” and I was like yeah, let’s do it. That’s something that I’ve done for him before. It’s obviously something that people respond to. I made the collage. I sent it off to Travis. He did some things with it and all I have to say is the final product looks really dope. So be on the lookout for “Anime 2” because that shit’s about to be fire.

[Tara Fay, a Social Status manager, offers Tyler Calpin dessert humus.]

ITR: Can you briefly touch on the color in your work?

Calpin: You know, basically, I’m ripping these structures a part in an area that feels slightly deteriorated and it’s not the way it used to be. A lot of things have changed since the steel industry left. There’s still a lot of stuff left over from it in terms of architecture or structures that are remaining that were around from that time, but there may not be a business in it. So, I photograph these structures. By cutting them at these really important seams, that’s why a lot of it is cut at the corners or where things start to intersect, I pull them a part there and I put the color behind it to in essence to breathe life back into it. I feel like color is one of those things it’s very lively. So many of the colors I’ve chosen are really vibrant.

The Multi-talented Musician You Must Know: Princess Nostalgia by Alex Young

Princess Nostalgia | photo by Vondre Clark

Article updated with new photos on August 16, 2023

“I’ll tell you this: when I first started getting involved in the music scene, I was more naive. There’re so many men who just don’t take you seriously and are condescending. I try to keep a balance of being open and not assuming the worst, but also… fuck that. I’ve had a lot of guys ask me to sing on their beats. I’m not just a singer.”

Princess Nostalgia is protective of her work. “It’s like having a baby.”

Particularly, the multi-talented artist’s music excels. Dancing to it isn’t hard because Princess Nostalgia’s “arrangements” are funky. Watch her music videos. Her charisma dominates scenes as she makes weird movements that she calls dancing. “I don’t want to take myself too seriously,” Nostalgia said.

“Everything in the mix I’ve written and played myself.” She also gave herself credit for her own graphic design work. “I’m proud of all my album art,” Princess Nostalgia declared. “There’s so much of your character in how you produce stuff,” she finished.

The stage name Princess Nostalgia comes from 20-year-old Lili Traviato feeling nostalgic about her childhood amongst the ancient ruins of Rome. “Every time I go back, I’ve changed, but the [eternal city] stays the way it’s been for even thousands of years.” Her dad lives there, who also had his time as a musician in the ‘80s. Some of Princess Nostalgia’s songs, like “Robert Says” from her self-titled 2017 mixtape sample music or lyrics from her father. His writing is very “sappy” for love songs she mentioned. “Mine tends to be a bit more pretentious and philosophical,” Nostalgia said as she often challenges patriarchal society.

A man who knows to push his pride aside, no illusion of his man-made rights, lives his life without spite.
— Princess Nostalgia in 'Master SpaceTime'

On record, Lili called funk her biggest musical influence. Princess Nostalgia’s bass lines spin a groovy tinge into her songs. Hear her strings training. She started playing double bass in fourth grade. She played for 10 years. Pleasant guitar strokes. Although, there’s a clear hip-hop influence too Nostalgia acknowledged. “Master SpaceTime” has bloops, synths and a hard kick. Listeners could imagine British grime star Skepta on “Willem Bounce.” Dr. Dre’s “2001” instrumental album is among the top plays on Lili’s Spotify account.

Now spending most of her time at university in Burlington, Vt., Princess Nostalgia navigates music scene there dominated by jam bands and hip-hop heads. They “all just want me to be a singer,” she said. Despite the overwhelming dominance of men in the music industry, she has the support of some great artists from the area, and she has a valuable opportunity to get comfortable on stage in front of intimate crowds in Burlington.

Luckily to her hometown’s credit, collaboration has been more natural for Princess Nostalgia in Pittsburgh’s music ecosystem. “I haven’t worked with anyone from Vermont just Pittsburgh,” she said. Local guitarist Joe Leytrick has added to Princess Nostalgia’s work. “We have to understand each other and know we’re interested in the same thing,” she said. While she’s able to connect to the scene in The ‘Burgh, with others like producer Buscrates, she doesn’t consider herself part of it unless through the Internet. “I know who all the people are in Pittsburgh who are artists and trying to make something happen,” she said about the scene.

Taking time to develop herself as a brand, Lili has invested into Princess Nostalgia as a business. At a Starbucks, she sat at the computer figuring out how to copyright Princess Nostalgia’s songs. She’s reading two books: “Everything You Need to Know About the Music Business” and “How to Monetize Your Music Career.” Ideally, she will pursue music full-time after graduation. “I don’t want to be financially dependent on anyone or any men,” she said.

Next Princess Nostalgia looks forward to releasing a longer album featuring some of the singles she’s already dropped. Eyeing strategy, a cinematic music video will help promote her new album. She also plans to re-release some of her old songs to make everything sound “polished.” Being critical, she thinks some of her tracks sound like demos. “I take pride in my arrangements,” she said.

pn 3.png

Read the transcript of the Princess Nostalgia Interview below.


Princess Nostalgia: I take pride in my arrangements. Everything in the mix I’ve written and played myself. My visual art, I’m proud of all my album art. I’ve been doing graphic design on the side and selling prints on Facebook marketplace. It works.

I’ll tell you this: when I first started getting involved in the music scene, I was more naive. There’s so many men who just don’t take you seriously and are condescending. I try to keep a balance of being open and not assuming the worst, but also… fuck that. I’ve had a lot of guys ask me to sing on their beats. I’m not just a singer. That’s the role that’s expected of women, especially in the hip-hop scene. I’m definitely influenced by hip-hop because I perform in Burlington, Vt. Either the two scenes there are middle-aged white dudes doing hip-hop or middle-aged white dudes in jam bands. College students too. So, I always get put in the hip-hop scene, which I definitely prefer to do the jam bands. In that environment, they’re all male dominated and they all just want me to be a singer. So, that’s why I’m so headstrong about wanting to have full control over every step of the process.

InTheRough: You do have to have a certain amount of control of your image. Once you let other people come in, like a producer or something, he kind of takes away from your sound a bit.

P.N.: That’s the thing there’s so much of your character in how you produce stuff. For me the most fun part is not having to answer to someone. For me, sharing that process would be compromising. I’m definitely open to collaborating. I’m working with this guy Joe. He plays guitar on my stuff. That’s a beautiful collaboration. We both make each other’s stuff better. We have the same vision. I know that I want to say what I want to say before I say yes to too many collaborations or let too many people put their voice inside.

ITR: Do you find more success collaborating in the Pittsburgh music environment or the Burlington environment?

P.N.: The music scene in Burlington is popping. It’s jam bands. It’s its own thing. Pittsburgh is just relatively much more diverse and interesting. I mean, everyone in Vermont is white. It’s a nice town around a lake and a church street like a downtown area that’s really pretty. There’s stuff going on, but it’s definitely more limiting. I see what’s going on in Pittsburgh over the Internet, but I’m not here most of the time. I feel pretty removed from it [even though she made a connection with locals guitarist Joe Leytrick and producer Buscrates]. I haven’t worked with anyone from Vermont just Pittsburgh. It has to happen in a more natural way. We have to understand each other and know we’re interested in the same thing. I feel like collaborating it’s a relationship you’re entering and it’s intimate. I’m not just going to do it with anyone.

ITR: What’s your end goal for your music?

P.N.: Ideally I want to do this full-time. Right now I’m focusing on learning about the business side of things. I got two books: Everything You Need to Know About the Music Business and How to Monetize Your Music Career. I’m looking out for myself. If I’m going to do this, I have to do it in a sustainable way. I’m also at school doing Philosophy and History. I’m trying to do well at school so I get that degree because I want a backup plan. I don’t want to be financially dependent on anyone or any men.

ITR: When did you feel the need to express yourself in ways that weren’t so linear?

P.N.: I think I’m really lucky. I was always raised to be like you can do whatever you want. What do you want to make? We’ll help you figure out how to do it. My mom started his own business. That’s giving me some savvy about how to approach this. Sometimes I get in really bad moods when I’m on social media trying to promote myself. It just brings out parts of me that I don’t like. I’m trying to compartmentalize it and look at it as a business.

ITR: What about the social media is bringing up something about yourself that you don’t like?

Princess Nostalgia photograph by Vondre Clark

P.N.: It’s like a gateway. Once you go into it with the eye of using it just for music, you keep picking up the app. You keep looking at Facebook. Then there’s the whole numbers game. I’m constantly reminding myself that the numbers don’t matter. They do matter. You have to get there at some point, but what the numbers are now aren’t a reflection of myself. Other people’s success has nothing to do with mine. Social media is not a healthy environment to put your art in. It’s like having a baby and putting it into a void. It’s just depressing sometimes. Slowly and surely I’m getting connected with more people who appreciate what I do and I just try and focus on that part. My dad was a musician. I send him my stuff constantly and he tells me what he thinks. He’s pretty comfortable being critical.

ITR: A lot of artists don’t take criticism well. If somebody criticizes you, they care about your work.

P.N.: Exactly. It actually means they are taking you seriously. They taught me not to be afraid. People are afraid to try or afraid to put something out there. Growing up in this family, I feel like I have nothing to lose. It just feels natural to put my voice out there.

ITR: You mentioned your dad was a musician. I saw you playing with his old DJ drops in a clip you posted on your Instagram story.

P.N.: (laughs) Yeah, that was one of his bands in the ‘80s. He was also in a big band, like he went on tour for two years playing the saxophone.

ITR: Nice. What do you plan to do with that?

P.N.: That was an old song he wants me to re-do. I’ve released a few songs that were his songs that he wrote in college, but with my arrangements. “Robert Says” from the “Princess Nostalgia” mixtape and “Feels Like Home,” which I released over the Summer. It’s funny because he’s very sentimental with his writing. The one I’m working on right now, “Talking Drug,” I wrote the music for it, but he contributed a lot of the lyrics. The only love songs I’ve done have been my dad’s words (laughs), which is really funny because I’m not as comfortable being sappy like that. I think he’s really good at writing sappy things without it being cheesy. Mine tends to be a bit more pretentious and philosophical.

ITR: The first lyrics of yours that impacted me were in your song “Princess Nostalgia.” It affected me a lot around the time of artist Yung Mulatto’s passing. You have a way with words to make a powerful song.

P.N.: Thank you. I appreciate that.

ITR: Talk to me about jam bands.

P.N.: There’s a lot of jam bands in Burlington, but I wouldn’t say they’re an influence for me. I was more talking about jam bands because that’s what’s dominant in Burlington. It’s not my favorite genre. I’d be happy to tell you what my influences are. D’Angelo. He doesn’t compare to anyone else. His harmonies influence me a lot. Electronic. Not like dubstep. Do you know Kraftwerk?

ITR: No.

P.N.: You should look them up. They got Sony to create the first synthesizers for them in the ‘60s. They were way ahead of the game. Even though they are not super well known they are one of the most influential bands in history. I grew up listening to them because my dad listens to them. Pop music. There’s a lot of shitty pop music, especially these days. I do think making a good pop song is difficult and an art form, like something that feels good. Funk music. I can’t believe I didn’t say that first. Funk and R&B. That’s why I love D’Angelo ‘cause D’Angelo is like the perfect meeting ground of funk and R&B. I got to see George Clinton and Funkadelic on Halloween. Hiatus Kaiyote. Hip-hop too.

ITR: I can hear all those influences in your music easily. I’d say hip-hop comes further down the list, but not last.

P.N.: It’s the beats that I use. The drums.

ITR: And when I watch your music videos you have this way of dancing about you like you’re dancing in your room with nobody looking.

P.N.: Yeah, I don’t want to take myself too seriously. Then I feel dumb doing that. I try to keep it silly and absurd. I’d feel too corny if I wasn’t dancing like that. Also, that’s how I generally dance.

ITR: Yeah, I can tell you dance oddly funny. That’s you dancing. At the same time, you said your lyrics are cynical or challenging society in a way.

P.N.: That’s how I deal with things that I find are painful and difficult. A lot of my favorite books and films are absurd, but they’re still serious. Most funny things are funny because they’re a coping mechanism for things that are pretty tough or dark. I’m not going to not talk about things that I think are important. It’s how I’m able to stay strong despite them. I feel like making it lighthearted is showing you can’t get me down. I don’t like being too serious in a literal way. That’s corny.

ITR: How does it feel when you see people support your music?

P.N.: I’ve had people who I don’t know be like, “are you Princess Nostalgia,” to my face. It feels dumb. On my logos I have this figure with the blue pubes. That’s Princess Nostalgia. It’s a title for me as an artist on stage. But also, I’m grateful for it. No one is going to take you seriously just because you’re talking yourself up. It’s more meaningful if they come across it and they see what I do. The work will speak for itself.

ITR: Especially with yours. It speaks to quality.

How does it make you feel when you know what people are doing through the Internet, but you don’t know them personally?

P.N.: It’s a weird world that we live in. That’s another thing, everything that I read about succeeding in music is like these days you have to have a personality. You have to have a brand. You have to present a certain side of yourself. I’m happy to play the game. The Internet is so young. We’re using it terribly now, but if we don’t destroy ourselves first, hopefully we’ll find better ways to use it. It’s not like it has to be like this forever. There’s so many beautiful things about technology. I learned everything I know about production from tutorials online.

Opaline - a night of iridescence by Maxwell Young

Opaline is an intersectional program of art, music, and food curated by Briona Butler aka Surrealistma.  It returns February 1.

The inaugural Opaline on December 1, 2018 photographed by Maxwell Young.

The inaugural Opaline on December 1, 2018 photographed by Maxwell Young.

Washington, D.C.—A feeling, or mood if you will, Opaline first manifested on the Instagram pages.  A tumblr-like onslaught of black excellence and beauty, opulence, and iconic hip hop and R&B figures became hard to ignore: Quintessential Kelis—her signature green epitomized in a pair of fierce sunglasses and a subtle ombré.  Tupac and his mother Afeni.  Hyper-sexualized fruits.  Avant-garde fashion.  Iridescent crystals.  Cozy Diddy.  And a young Mos Def freestyling in a New York park all conveyed potent levels of nostalgia.

This sentiment was transmuted at Dwell DC, an artsy, knick-knack-filled clubhouse tucked away in the Northeast quadrant of the District.  Performances by MARTYHEEMCHERRY, Nappy Nappa, Lulu Sunflower, and Pangelica as well as DJs Moses and Greenss buoyed the first monthly events in December and January.  At the last Opaline on New Year’s, I watched Dreamcast and Nappy Nappa run through their collaborative track, “Dolphin Squeek,” a glitchy bop that appears on Dreamcast’s most recent offering, The Lost Tapes vol. 2.  A bowl of black eyed peas and collard greens—a dish supposedly bringing good fortune in 2019 catered by Green from Within—added a savory element to the night while Sir E.U filtered through his library on the turntables.

“It’s important for me to create spaces for us to be together and cool it,” Butler told me over brunch at The Diner in Adams Morgan.  “For me, music is a very spiritual healing tool.”

Butler is no stranger to orchestrating music programming in Washington, D.C., and growing up as a military brat in Southeast and Northeast, D.C. as well a PG County, Maryland, she has a vast experience of what the DMV’s art community can cultivate.  During 2017 and 2016, Butler was integral to the Glow End Theory series presented by CMPVTR CLVB that focused on reinvigorating the divine feminine, featuring artists like Alex Vaughn, Odd Mojo, and DJ Little Bacon Bear.  She noted that the inspiration behind her desire to create intersectional events was derived from Sanaa Fest, a party series founded by D.C.-based artist Yaya Bey in 2015 that provided a tolerant environment to showcase creatives in the DMV and New York. 

Butler reminisced about one of the parties in which Afrovelvet, no foreigner to InTheRough pages, had a fashion show and the iconic female duo Oshun performed.  “I feel like the Sanaa Fest changed the course of my life.  That was a seed that made me want to be off what I’m off.  I have mad respect for Yaya.”

Opaline, however, is solely the brainchild of Butler.  The genesis of the idea came as a way to amplify the voice of her childhood best friend, Babby, who’s angelic crooning has enchanted guests over the first two shows.  The Baltimore-based singer’s impromptu a-cappella  set on New Year’s hushed the entire audience, centering the room in a moment of serenity.

Only two parties underway, “a night of iridescence” as Butler refers to Opaline is still in its infancy, but the optimism around the movement is evident.  Already it has engendered a feeling of comfort with familiar faces returning to engage with the series.  Butler doesn’t see Opaline as just a party, though, rather as a multi-media brand.  Her Opaline mixes on SoundCloud convert the visual aesthetic of the program into a sonic palette while highlighting rising talents in the community.  Greenss’ assistance with the audio mixing in the inaugural set is a nice segue into his own offering of tracks in mix 01.

The third Opaline will be held at The Village Cafe on Friday, February 1 with performances by Bobbi Rush, Nate G, Sir E.U, Naygod, Hoeteps, and Free.GG along with an art installation by Rap Rumi. Stay tuned for the next Opaline mix.

Friday, February 1

The Village Cafe

1272 5th St NE

Washington, D.C. 20002



Sir E.U's Op-ed: Juxtapositional Authority, Who's storyline is it anyway? by Maxwell Young

The following text was written one year ago today by Sir E.U, Washington, D.C.-based emcee and visionary artist—January 14, 2018.

Sir E.U, Polaroids by Maxwell Young

Sir E.U, Polaroids by Maxwell Young

There is no level of voyeurism that can suffice when trying to accurately entail something's true worth when you are not it. 

I recently read an article about Australian Psych-Rock that was written by a dude from/living in Los Angeles, CA. Such juxtapositional authority has become typical & out of hand. It reminds me of how Malcolm X once lamented about the voice of the civil rights movement at the time being primarily clowns as he called them—entertainers and beloved athletes who's prominence in society was mainly derivative of their commercial appeal rather than focused resolve in origin. 

So many articles/lists/BRANDS/COMPANIES capitalize & feign focus on regions that they're most often absent from, feigning informed authority. This is blatantly disrespectful to the intersectionality that the parties in subject present; Constantly one-dimensionalizing entities by providing a narrative based on the most evident and superficial consistencies, more than likely physical or consistent themes in aesthetic or likenesses. In most digital journalism these days, the content and character of the subject in observation is boiled down and sacrificed to the omni-limited palette of the apathetic and disconnected consumer, more than likely on the basis of likability much more so than real world viability and applicability. I realize that it has been like this long before I was born.

Underprivileged communities, under represented individuals, and artists suffer the most when outsiders define the narrative that the rest of the world tunes in to & gathers empathy from their character. We all have heroes from our hometowns in our psyche who could have genuinely produced game-changing results in their fields had someone with resource been able to witness their ability in the proper context and environments. I have vivid memories of groups of children cranking D.C artist Lightshow on the A6/A8 etc, community type, but someone from out of town has no access to these memories, and the chances are zero to none that a kid on the bus follows the newspaper reporter making the next regional top 10 list that'll define the local hierarchy for the next few months.

It is gentrification. The communities & artists  featured by the media are always either the creme of the most mainstream applicable (w/ honorable mentions going to the most pretentious non-conformists), or the archetype bad examples who we are taught to either reject or learn from their missteps.  All who get their first impression from the outsiders' (mis)interpretation of what really goes on are none the wiser. The causes of what made these entities are no where near close to being initially considered. The myth of the self-made entity is the root of all consumerism and a revisionist's apology for capitalism, and it is a fountain of poverty and wealth begetting each other. Us electing officials and accepting the narratives of outsiders to our home interests breeds the craving for authenticity that works us and our idols to death in search of, vainly and vampirically draining our company of all savvy from the world outside of our chosen focuses and feeds.

We so often opt to accept, and, even more prevalently than ever now, we strive to invalidate or propose superlative parallels to what is plead rather than to simply empathize with someone's sharing of their understanding so far, which is definitely not to say that people are predominantly apt to be inoffensive when sharing theirselves either.

As long as we look to essentially uninformed and unbiased entities to determine our savvy's as our guides to the unknown, we will never escape the cycle of sampling our salvation until the next issue of it brands it obsolete. There is no level of voyeurism that can suffice when trying to accurately entail something's true worth when you are not it.

Photo Jan 08, 5 18 28 PM.jpg

Reminisce with Kubi, watch "I Miss L.A," a home movie by Maxwell Young

Washington, D.C.—In case you missed it, DMV-based photographer Kubi released a ten-minute home movie feeling nostalgic of his time in Los Angeles circa summer 2018.

We’re familiar with his film work as he came through Uptown Art House to capture the raw, underground vibe that was present the night of Khan, Wifigawd, and Trip Dixon performances last year. Peruse his Instagram to find his trademark Cowgirl photos—undoubtedly friends, models, creatives, and strangers, too—fitted in varying cowboy boots and hats. Plus, his lens has caught a who’s-who of District creatives, framing the scene in a distinct visual context.

Kubi’s videography is eye-catching, though, because he uses fonts and graphics that are reminiscent of a Windows 2005 digital era. In “I Miss L.A,” quick cuts of intimate moments with friends and beach buds inform this abstract diary while distortions and iridescent filters heighten the level of indulgence and enjoyment evident in his West coast adventure.

Perhaps the most compelling component of the video, in my opinion, is the music. “No Time” featuring Gunna by Playboi Carti is one of the more euphoric sounds on Die Lit. It accentuates the beginning of Kubi’s movie—a sense of arrival and renewal. He never leaves this wavelength, running through cuts of Astroworld, more Carti, and The Weekend who highlights one of Kubi’s heartfelt moments along the shoreline.

You have to wonder if a permanent Los Angeles transition is imminent for Kubi Cowboy. Is he a man of the Wild West? Watch the video above for a pleasurable moment in your day.