Best Of :: Arts & Entertainment
Kung Fu Saloon is like a playground for adults. There's booze. There's ping pong. There's foosball and Mario Kart and shuffleboard. There's skee ball — and that's probably all you need to sell your friends. Kung Fu doesn't have the exclusive feel of an arcade bar, though. Sure, the classic Galaga is tucked in the corner waiting for the hardcore gamers of the 1980s, surrounded by other games, such as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, NBA Showtime and Big Buck Hunter. But Kung Fu, with its giant TV screens, also feels like a sports bar. With its DJ on Saturday nights, it also feels like a dance bar. And with its outdoor patio, spacious seating and private small-party rooms, it also feels, simply, like a place to relax. Bar-goers who want to get competitive, however, have plenty of opportunity for that.
Commercials on local TV were never supposed to make viewers pause to ponder the profound philosophical questions of life...until Texas Mattress Makers came along. The camera lingers lovingly over mattresses in production at the company's East End factory-showroom, as a disembodied voice asks a few simple questions in a tone that implies he's talking about a lot more than a good night's sleep: "What is a mattress?" "Where does it come from?" "How does it make you feel?" Soothing and sleepy, the narrator's voice barely reaches above a whisper, the exact opposite of Mattress Mack's hyper-caffeinated, high-volume late-night pitches of yore. Brilliant.
You can almost feel the smoke of a different era still hanging in the air at the Big Easy Social and Pleasure Club. On the stage, you'll likely find a full-bodied blues band with a twanging guitar, fierce keys and throaty vocalist who, yes, sounds like he may have just smoked a pack. Not a single wall, table or tile is without chipped paint in this dark joint. Old photos and posters of Muddy Waters, B.B. King and Dr. John leave little room for white space anyway. And in the center of it all are a few middle-aged couples dancing and twirling around so impressively in front of the stage that if you're young and single you think, "Life goals," and if you're old and married you think, "Why can't I do that?" This isn't a place where you go to gab — there's simply too much to absorb.
READERS' CHOICE: The Continental Club
The lack of interior space at Satellite Bar isn't necessarily a bad thing, especially because it means you get a good, close-up look at the local and national acts taking the stage. This East End venue is the best place in town for experiencing a show right in your face, whether you like hardcore punk rock, electronic dance music or stand-up comedy. And there's a big backyard if you need to take a break for some air.
Mari Carmen Ramírez is on fire, leading the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston in relentless pursuit of the best and brightest modern and contemporary art from Central and South America. Ramírez, the Wortham Curator of Latin American Art and director of the International Center for the Arts of the Americas, has a keen eye, and the museum's "Contingent Beauty" exhibit was an edgy showstopper with themes of poverty, political oppression and violence. We saw exciting installations, like the starfish-studded Woven Water: Submarine Landscape by María Fernanda Cardoso; the minimalist Stress (in memoriam) by Yoan Capote (incorporating thousands of human teeth); and Óscar Muñoz's video projection chronicling the desaparecidos. Both cerebral and beautiful, it was the sort of exhibit that stays in your mind long after it closes.
In its first year, Satellite Bar has already built a reputation for putting on shows that don't disappoint. The dark dive hosts mostly local and Texas bands, serving up everything from funky space rock to shoe-gazing fuzz. The small stage is tucked into the corner across from the bar, which offers an extensive selection of craft beers from breweries across the country. But the real draw at Satellite is its huge backyard: There are fire pits, tables and festive lighting, and every now and then, management sets up an outdoor stage. Satellite is exactly where you want to be on one of those clear, sweater-weather nights.
READERS' CHOICE: House of Blues