—————————————————— Best Lesbian Tejano Bar 2005 | Mela's Tejano Country | Best of Houston® | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Houston | Houston Press
True, there's not much competition in this tight niche -- in fact, there's so little, one might wonder how a watering hole like this could even survive. Yet owner Mela Contreras has kept her bar running in this little edge-of-Midtown nook for more than two decades. Tied into and proud of her community, Contreras was the female Pride Parade grand marshal in 2002. While mostly lesbians patronize her cozy bar, some straights -- solo and in couples -- also frequent the place for great Tejano and country music, pool and cheap prices on cold beer and spicy micheladas (beer mixed with hot sauce -- an authentic Tejano favorite).

Best Local Musician Who Left Town and Will Truly Be Missed

Brian McManus

Brian McManus -- also known as Brian McGuilloteen, the rowdy guitarist for the Fatal Flying Guilloteens, and as Filthy McNasty, the rambunctious, R&B-singing front man for Filthy McNasty and the Rhinestone Life (not to mention the Press's former Nightfly) -- has picked up and moved to Philadelphia. Anyone who's ever seen the paunchy, punchy, Gary Busey-looking fool perform knows how unfortunate it is that he isn't part of the Houston music scene anymore. After the musician, chef and nightlife menace moved away, he promptly went on tour with the Guilloteens. People all over this land are now experiencing what we have sadly lost: a crazy-ass white boy who truly, sincerely, brilliantly doesn't give a fuck.
He's got that Ron Sexsmith-Neil Finn-Jeff Buckley melancholy singer-songwriter thing going for him. He's got a great band, featuring hypercerebral drummer Paul "Falcon" Valdez and dreamlike pedal steel player Matt Rhodes. His CD was perched at or near the top of the sales chart at Cactus Music & Video all summer long. And while Castillo may not be tall, he is dark and handsome. (In fact, he looks a lot like Townes Van Zandt did before the vodka took its toll.) So why is this guy unsigned? Beats us. Meanwhile, you should catch him out anywhere from cozy pubs like the Stag's Head to roomy showcase venues like the Meridian. We think bigger rooms are in his future soon.
Named after a pygmy who was brought to the United States in the early 1900s and placed in a zoo, Otabenga Jones & Associates consists of Jabari Anderson, Jamal Cyrus, Kenya Evans, Robert Pruitt and, of course, the spirit of the eponymous martyr, who eventually committed suicide after being released from captivity. His associates offer us heavy reminders of the oppression he underwent, creating works that are both socially provocative and visually interesting. For We Did It for Love at the Contemporary Arts Museum's "Amalgama" show, the guys flipped a cop car in the middle of the space, leaving the viewer with crushed metal, broken glass and a question: How the hell did they get that car in here? This inquiry is key, since it brings to mind the rage required to flip an official vehicle. But we especially dug the collective's protest, We are blacker than your white box, staged at the opening of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston's "African Art Now" exhibition. Pruitt and Cyrus held up signs, urging the museum to consider why it had let the taste of one Swiss man, Jean Pigozzi, dictate the canon of contemporary African art. Hmm, good question.
Though the name conjures up a utopia where families are created, God's Temple of Family Deliverance is not a pro-life Christian rock band. In fact, it's quite the opposite, the antithesis of both rock and roll and fundamentalism. What's delivered by this brooding foursome is monolithic, 15-minute-plus songs of sheer cacophony. The temple for which they're named is built with stacks of Marshall amplifiers, loud and powerful enough to raise the dead. Though they play hard and loud, they often bring the tempo down to a suffocating pace, like a Screw tape for heshers. Comparisons to the Melvins come to mind, as drummer Chris Ryan plays with the same dynamic fervor as Dale Crover, and guitarist Eric Faucette's caterwauling fretwork matches that of King Buzzo.
Sure, there are plenty of DJs who are well known in and around the city, but it seems few branch out and explore the world, let alone the state. Not so for West Columbia, Texas, native DJ Jester the Filipino Fist, a.k.a. Mikey Pendon, who left his tiny hometown to travel the globe in 2003, when fellow Filipino Kid Koala asked him to be a part of his interactive turntable band and took him across North America, the United Kingdom and Europe. In late 2004, DJ Jester took off for San Francisco. This year, he went down to New Zealand with Lederhosen Lucil, to Australia with Kid Koala, and to Norway with both. After hearing one of Jester's mixes, you'll understand why he was named one of Urb magazine's Next 100 to Watch. He mashes all types of genres (even some Willie Nelson) into one flawless and danceable mix.
The Whiskey is in a league of its own. Whether you decide on a Shiner or one of their $12-and-worth-it specialty martinis, you can't help but feel cool in the dimly lit atmosphere, amid the muted reds and golds. You can drink at the bar, settle into one of the cozy chairs overlooking the lobby, or hit the seductive Whiskey Den. The black-lacquered and mirrored walls, chinoiserie ceiling and mohair banquette seating define swank. Luxury hotel bars have a reputation as being pretentious, overpriced and devoid of charm. But check out the Whiskey. You'll be glad you did.
Aurora is known around the country for its consistently challenging, cutting-edge shorts and feature films. The little theater, housed in a former church, shows animated and illustrated films as well as computer, video and other experimental works. Audiences often spill out from the pews onto the floor. Our favorite offerings this year: Iraq, Inc. and Shocking and Awful, two daring small-budget documentaries exposing how the corporate-controlled news outlets manage the information the American public receives about the war in Iraq. Lectures often follow the films, so drop in for a service, er, flick, and you may be startled by a familiar-looking host. Guest presenters have included the likes of Laurie Anderson and William Wegman.
A recent article about Mari Carmen Ramirez is titled "The Evangelist for Modern Art." It's an accurate assessment -- she's caused a lot of people to see the light. Ramirez is the first director of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston's International Center for the Arts of the Americas. Opened in 2001, the ICAA was established as both a curatorial department and a collecting and research center focusing on modern and contemporary works created by artists from Central and South America, Mexico and the Caribbean, as well as Latino artists based in the United States. With last year's groundbreaking exhibition "Inverted Utopias: Avant-Garde Art in Latin America," Ramirez pened not only Houston's but the world's eyes to a wealth of phenomenal art we barely knew existed. In "Inverted Utopias," Ramirez showed us the art of a Latin American avant-garde that knocked Eurocentric and America-centric art histories on their asses.
The well-culled celluloid offerings this year have included the gritty realism of Soviet filmmakers Stanislav Rostotsky and Yuri Ozerov, Japanese masters Kenji Mizoguchi and Akira Kurosawa, a 75th anniversary of The Maltese Falcon -- and yes, French New Wavers Jean-Luc Godard, Robert Bresson, Robert Aldric and Jacques Tati. If you didn't catch the screening of Tati's Playtime, you missed out. The film's exploration of Paris circa 1967 is a cacophony of motion and music; it tells the story of a man looking for an American official who gets caught up with a group of tourists. As any film worth its stock -- and most films screened at the museum -- will do, Playtime offers commentary on life's circus. Trying to figure it out for yourself? Spend an afternoon taking in a vintage flick at the MFAH.

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