Blogs

Courtesy of MTV

A placid Patricia Hernandez, a.k.a, Patti Her., starts with plastic wrap. She ties it around her eyes. She continues until her face is coated and her chest heaves in suffocation.

The uneasy, uncomfortable moments flash on a flat TV screen. On an adjacent screen, potent images flutter of land mines exploding, car jackers murdering and butchers sizing up meat.

"A lot of it stems from myself," says Patti, the artist and a 25 year old art student with gold hoop earrings that read, Die Slow. "A lot of my decisions are based on fear."

More

It seems fitting that Miami would be the city to host the world premiere of Twyla Tharp's NIGHTSPOT, an energetic work that fit together in a discordant yet stunningly compelling way.

Splashes of classical ballet, Broadway, Cirque du Soleil, fight clubs and Latin dance percolated constant curiosity throughout this highly anticipated work.

Tharp, and musical innovator, Elvis Costello, collaborated on the piece that was Miami City Ballet's first major commission. Costello's original music, played by a nine piece onstage band along with the orchestra underlined and bolded Tharp's varied choreography, as did costumes in shades of red and fuchsia designed by Isaac Mizrahi.

Grand jetés and pirouettes gracefully transitioned into jazz and salsa steps. Tharp toyed with traditional ballet gender roles in the work as a lusty, principal female became the aggressor and the male dancer was the broken, frail one. The first male principal solo was filled with karate-like kicks that transitioned into ballet leaps, making for a spectacularly bad-ass ballet.

There were only brief moments when the work felt forced. A movement highlighting a swath of long red silk felt like an imitation of an artful circus and, at times, the multiple partner dances seemed too West Side Story. Overall, NIGHTSPOT felt refreshing, cacophonous and cohesive --very much like an evening in the Magic City.

--Janine Zeitlin

Fred Flintstone would never make it in Miami. Nor would Ralph Cramden.

See, bowling’s gone upscale. There was a time just a couple of years ago when you could drive north to Cloverleaf Lanes (on Northwest Second Avenue and 176th Street) or south to Don Carter Lanes (North Kendall Drive and SW 136th Avenue) and bowl like Fred and Ralphie.

Roll the ball hard. Drink $1 beers.

They both closed.

Lucky Strike Lanes on South Beach is a whole different bowl game. A buddy hit five strikes in a row there last night and that was nice, but neither Barney Rubble nor Ed Norton cheered him on. A friggin Andy Warhol picture was next to our lane. And the discounted beers went for six bucks each. There were more big screen TVs than one can imagine….and the breast surgery…..yikes, can you say South Beach!

And of course, it’s part of a chain. There’s a total of 16 Lucky Strikes across the country.

I like it this way. But I pine for the beautiful ugliness of day’s gone by.

Chuck Strouse

When I think of a great street in Miami, I think of Old Cutler Road with its endless sprawling canopies. Or Eighth Street, which stretches down into the depths of the Everglades and in 1988 offered the backdrop for world’s longest conga line. Yet, never would I ever consider the eternal parking lot that is South Beach’s Ocean Drive, as one of our city’s finest.

The American Planning Association disagrees. On Tuesday it named Ocean Drive, along with Bull Street in Savannah, GA and Monument Avenue in Richmond, VA, as one of the 10 Great Streets for 2007 through APA’s Great Places in America program. According to the APA what qualifies a street as a great place in American is that it’s “enjoyable, safe, and desirable…where people want to be - not only to visit, but to live and work there everyday.”

Before I drain all of the silicone out of this beautifully superficial 36-C cup statement,

More

I'm waiting for a gentle and kind man in a fauxhawk behind the Genius Bar to help me. My power cord on the Macbook fried this morning: I'm without a computer and facing a long wait at the Apple store. As usual, it's crowded with people dressed to the nines just to surf the free internet. A tiny, grey dog runs around underfoot while his owner fiddles with an ipod nano.

There's one guy ahead of me at the service counter. He's Italian, I think, handsome with ice-colored blue eyes. He's holding an iphone, one with it's guts spilling out of one side. The battery is entirely exposed. "It still works, though," the genius behind the Genius Bar says. Everyone in the immediate area looks at the guy, who is clad in a white Adidas track jacket, grey pants and pristine white flip flops. He shrugs.

My boyfriend, who is waiting impatiently with me, asks the guy what happened to the iphone. "My girlfriend threw it off the balcony," he said. "I live on the 32nd floor."

"What did you do to your girlfriend?" my boyfriend asks.

"Not what I wanted to do to her," he replied, grimly. --Tamara Lush

It’s the Friday before a three-day weekend, and you’re either toiling away at your computer trying to compensate for the workday you’re gonna miss next week, or you’re surfing the web, planning your weekend. Thought so…..just in case you didn’t find anything on our calendar that grabs your eye, here are a couple more nightspots that will be jumping this weekend.

More

If the South Beach club scene were a cocktail, it would definitely be a Long Island Iced Tea – overflowing with an assortment of shit and guaranteed to get you fucked up. But each and every Friday for a year now, The 400 Club has put the “ice” in the Long Island Iced Tea, bringing the Beach a party that’s cool, refreshing, and definitely feels good going down. They’ve earned a reputation for bumpin' the hottest Hip Hop and R&B, having the fliest urban crowd, and attracting huge stars. Jay-Z and Nas are on to it, but maybe this is your first time hearing about it, and maybe you’ve been living under a rock. Either way, tonight’s One Year Anniversary party will definitely be the best time to slide down to the Fifth and get better acquainted with the 400 Club. They say there will be butlers serving champagne and hors d’oeuvres, a red carpet, and celebrity guests. We say, you had us at 400. Doors open at 11:00 p.m. and the dress code is strictly enforced, strictly chic. Visit the 400 Club site for the guestlist. -- Raina McLeod

A few weeks ago, after much speculation, Alonzo Mourning announced that he would return to the court for one last season with the Heat.

"I want to redeem myself and try to help this team redeem ourselves as an organization and try to get back on track," Mourning said. "That wasn't the Miami team you saw in the playoffs last year...I was embarrassed. I was truly embarrassed by that outcome. I know for a fact we're a better team. It left a sour taste in my mouth and it's time to really end it all on the right note."

Judging from the photos posted today on gossip blog mediatakeout.com, free agent James Posey is considerably less worried about cutting down on the embarrassments. But in his defense, we’re pretty sure that the girl in the first pic did have a sour taste in her mouth - just probably not the same kind Zo had. -- Raina McLeod

Lately I’ve been checking out every 7-11 I’ve stumbled upon. Not because they have unbelievable gas prices or that I’m hopelessly addicted to scratch-off cards and day-old (Mmm) doughnuts, but because I’m on a quest. Not the most noble of quests, but a quest nonetheless.

A few months back I caught wind of 7-11’s supposed promotional stunt to temporarily replace Slurpee with Kwik-E-Mart Squishy cups in anticipation of the release of The Simpsons Movie. Ever since, I’ve heard the jingle of many a green and orange convenience store door. And although I know it’s still a Slurpee in a Slurpee cup that simply reads “Squishy” instead of “Slurpee,” there’s something about sipping that frozen, sweet nectar from a magical cup that reads “Squishy” that might make it taste slightly more delicious.

Elaine Lancaster as Marge

Jamie Puntumkhul

Yet, after some time searching, the promise of a tangible, 3-dimensional Squishy seems to merely be a myth in Miami at least, because all I’ve been able to find thus far in regards to Simpsons paraphernalia are twisty straws, sugar cookies, and Bartman comic books. Not a single Squishy, which leaves me with a sense of disgruntled discontent so pathetic that even Milhouse has the right to snub his nose.

So when I received an invite to The Forge’s release party for The Simpsons Movie on July 25 with promises of beer and Krusty the Clown serving hors'endeavors, my Comic Book Guy-soul was as happy as Lisa playing a sax duet with “Bleeding Gums” Murphy.

More

It's been 10 years since Gianni Versace was shot and killed on the steps of his Ocean Drive mansion. Check out the New York Times' excellent story looking back at the murder and Versace's impact on the fashion world; also click on the slide show for some pictures of the icon in happier times. -- Tamara Lush