GOODBYE OAK LOVE MARRIAGE
Thursday March 27, 2008
It’s been 7 years and two days ago I locked the door goodbye on our old studio. Trying to figure out what to say is like trying to answer the question, “so what did you do the last 7 years?” Fox is sleeping upstairs in the new building right now. He’s three and a half. The label is 6. This will be the 611th article on this website. 1st post from the new place. You probably have a new computer since this started. I am at the same one! (No brag.) Look at your computer.
The Oak Street building is the epicenter for Portland life and arts as I know it. There are other centers, but none I know that have lasted so long underground, continues, and that has been so crucially formative to so many people. Everyone I know has a tie to the building, has had a studio there, a friend there, has made work there, worked there, recorded, hung out, loved. Even if you haven’t been to this building yet, or haven’t known someone there personally, you are tied to it through these silly postings now.
Help me out.
Put up a comment on the old Marriage Records studio. Or on the Oak Street, past present or future.
Uncle Norman writes:
slept in tent with ryan
painkillers on roof
and $3 blackjack profit
watching traffic and bridges
with dylan
jam with jeff & mise
goodbye marriage
hello marriage
posted Mar 27, 06:52 AM ~
solomon writes:
waking up in the loft on my first full day in portland to the warble of a pigeon laxin on a trunk arms length away. didn’t know to close the fan before bed. it flew back to its kit hangin in the opening. i rushed in my undies down the ladder, aka fox’s canvas, past the shiny new monitor and shut it moments before jess rolled in, clad identically, on his way to relieve himself.
posted Mar 27, 01:23 PM ~
Forkner writes:
thank you for setting the vibes up so tight and proper for so long in this space. the history of energies, fractions of which are documented and passed on, while countless spirits fly up and out like vapors to be remembered only by those there, or by glimmering whispered images and dreams and then fading away into the world again, but changed by it. thank you marriage, thank you curtis laurel, tom, adrian, maggy, maria, scotty, dave, flint, khaela, mellisa, jesse, chandra, colin, carson, missy, seth, pinkos, aaron f, brad a, may, mike and christy, jona and zach p?, jordan, thugs, kyle f, rob and rob, ‘roke nights, shit goes on a list of moments together inspiring higher climbs and giving strength to go out and ahout out and rip it up, big or small, in so many ways. and as a beauty that continues on both here and within us who have been touched. we still be kickin’ it here. shit is still going down. things are thicker, dudes are older, wiser, lazier, more active, everything. other shit has spread like missions, or dissipated and disappeared. such is the beautiful life. such are nexuses, for that is what it is. and will be. thank you. so much love stuck on them that we wont even wash the walls, dude. only good fortune and bright future visions for you as you cary on and up. and if you need it, there will always be an awkward foam pad or decaying couch for you to sleep on…
OAK LIVE OAK LIFE OAK LOVE
posted Mar 27, 03:00 PM ~
carlos writes:
squeezing in the hovel with missy and dan devriend and scott (tom’s current spot).
shooting off fireworks inside the studio on new years eve and waking up sick to the choir recording “i am yours”.
shooting bb guns on the rooftop at a mechanical singing hamster with adrian scott rawls and dan devriend.
coming back from montage at 4 in the morning and climbing up to a sleeping laurel.
fox taking his first steps on the thick chocolate carpet we put in there.
adrian recording the in the world in one night. (also nothing in the basement, the lakes 7 inch in 402, we could be each others evidence in the basement – parts of the triple…)
recording brad adkins in one sitting.
laurel recording without mercy over a few days.
kyle recording soft pow’r in one week.
the watery graves recording portland over six months.
rob walmart recording hundreds of sessions in the basement over two years.
watching dave coyne paint for hours and listening to him talk about paintings for hours.
seth and mise en abyme across the hall, 4 wall cinema next door. the stripper girl with the mystical name. 3rd floor white rainbow, valet, yacht, parenthetical girls, flint, sumner, khaela, melissa, shayla, the weird russian dudes who finally threw a party, jesse durost, joe haige, the organ and camela raymond, chandra bocci, carson ellis, scotty’s old studio with no floor, midori hirose, 2nd floor colin meloy, that weird kid who picked up dead bodies for a living, tom blood, dylan anderson, dave longstreth, brad, may and her place forever, jordan!, rex church, tim harte, guitron and the polaris dancers, hattie, maggie, adrian, maria, brisa – swan island, franquero – mini monarch, harry durham, tamara, the charm bracelet, guy and mike crash, red 76 – sam and laura, fong dog – who used to sell weed, stiv and molly, pinkos, gracies
thanksgivings in 402, new years eves over at city sign, 4th of julys watching the river fireworks, valentine’s days marriage showcase shows.
taking cabs late to work for william temple.
bands sleeping on the floor.
building tearing down building tearing down and building again the rooms to suit the people and projects.
cursing the produce row for burning marshmallows smell at midnight only to realize i had set the curtain on fire.
12 fire inspections.
posted Mar 27, 04:33 PM ~
white fang writes:
first time me and jimi went to the oak it was the day after my 17th birthday.
some of my most precious memories happened there.
it was a place i could always go if i had nowhere else, which meant a lot.
it’s one of those things in your heart that you know will be something really wonderful you’ll think of someday if you get to be old.
i have too many stories, and i’m too stoned to remember which ones will make me seem the most insightful, so i’ll just say one thing.
one time when i came to the studio by myself, back when aaron frenquero (or however you spell it) and his cat elmer were around, which must have been like summer ’06 or something.
i remember it was a really hot day and the sun was really bright.
then adam came and showed me that if you knelt on the floor and closed your eyes, the blades of the fan in the window would chop up the sun’s light into like hyphy patterns on the back of your eyelids.
i used to sit and do that a lot.
that shit always used to appear when i used to eat psychadelic mushrooms.
i loved the oak, i love the oak.
i love you guys. and the way the world romances our stories. a stack of bricks couldn’t be what it is without the feelings i guess.
computer’s going to die
posted Mar 27, 06:07 PM ~
may writes:
not just bad things happened on september 11th, 2001.
posted Mar 27, 08:18 PM ~
Michael writes:
Building:
The ventilator in the rob basement
The sanded chicken fridge floor
The red and blue rooms in the mise space
The wall in marriage
The carpeting in marriage
The shelving in marriage
My own little square for Brad
Playing:
To tom and skate roles on the van couch outside the rob basement
To the video feed for the live under may show
In Adrian’s band on the table in the mise space
Luke’s electro rug
Watching:
Colin
Kyle
Karl
Lucky D’s
Following:
Fox becoming
Fox being
Fox an infant
Fox a baby
Fox a toddler
Fox a boy
Plus:
Badminton Tourneys
No list can encompass the lives loving in that place in our times.
In my memory The Oak is an island.
There it stays my country.
posted Mar 27, 11:17 PM ~
jamie in england writes:
best oak st memory: taking a shower in the marriage bathroom and a penny appearing in my hand from nowhere.
posted Mar 28, 07:08 AM ~
Flint writes:
The Oak was the most inspiring, haphazard place for a group of 22-year-olds living in a fire station in Anacortes to visit. It blew our mind: listening to the advanced copies of [[[[VRSN]]]], the red velvet lamp shade, that cool platform in 402, stuffing parties for the first Marriage Comp. That place has been very good at establishing a temporary permanent aesthetic. That New Years Eve party that one year was incredible. Also: Dave’s hip hop music making me mellow in a new way, taking down all of my lights for the fire inspections, Adam and Honey getting cats, my ionizer, the very slow internet with Cat 5 running hundreds of feet outside windows, making Ve with the ghost of The Organ. Very important: walking up to the building and seeing Tom on the dock.
posted Mar 28, 11:09 AM ~
maria writes:
coming home to an eviction notice pasted on my door. “well, fuck it.”
posted Mar 28, 11:44 AM ~
maria writes:
not just that, many other things. brisa and i getting a studio and trying not to strangle eachother or hear eachother having “intimacies.” my pet rat chewing through the cement, living in my oven, visiting kaela in her bed in the middle of the night.
pissing in my kitchen toilet
reading in my loft one day and i felt the whole building buzz soundlessly. my first instinct was “EARTHQUAKE!” but then i was all, naw, probably just a sheridan truck. then on my way out i noticed a huge crack in the hallway and a basketball sized chunk of the wall had crashed to the floor.
BEWARE: the oak street is seismically unsafe!
tom blood not answering his door when brisa and i really needed him.
curtis sneaking smokes in our place.
throwing shitty studio mates’ belongings out and cussing at them, never getting my 400 dollars back.
MY FATHER’s PLACE, becoming my living room and nurturing my alcoholism.
bummin’ gauloises off bradkins.
crying ceaselessly in the rec room in a hormonal meltdown.
FOX FOX FOX FOX FOX!!!!!
sunbathing on the roof with some wine and found magazine.
someone on the graveyard shift at the sheridan is named Maria, and let me tell you it is really trippy to hear your name being called to you by loudspeaker in your dreams every night.
i first visited the oak street on halloween, 2001. adrian brought me to montage party where i met everyone. curtis was standing on a chair against the wall with a white sheet toga that precariously supported a huge wooden mantle-fixture-wings that i’m sure weighed like, 500 lbs. that was weird. may was in chainmaille as joan of arc, missy was the queen of hearts, and scott was an alien that like to make-out. we drove around listening to ‘i see a darkness’ and then went to the oak. i went away for a year the next day, but couldn’t wait to get back so i could be a part of all this.
i love you oak, i love you marriage but i also love your new replacement building. kinda an upgrade, no offense.
posted Mar 28, 12:17 PM ~
maria writes:
forgot to mention all of us watching mt. st. Helens erupt out of marriagerecs window. kerplow!!!
posted Mar 28, 12:21 PM ~
Michael writes:
Beth D waking up to find the sprinkler system flooding her place (a sprinkler was defective) and deciding to run away before the firecops got there, but making sure to LOCK her door, thereby making the firecops BUST it down to make sure there were no actual flames.
posted Mar 28, 04:14 PM ~
Michael writes:
Chasing the thief out of the building with Curtis
posted Mar 28, 04:19 PM ~
Michael writes:
Guitron’s bonsai lebensraum takeover
posted Mar 28, 04:21 PM ~
Michael writes:
I could go on.
Really.
posted Mar 28, 04:26 PM ~
Alisha from Cali writes:
i first visited when jordan was sleeping there as an intern, june a year ago, i was mostly there when no one but jordan was around and i took a picture from the bathroom window and generally admired all the art/objects/equipment and felt frustrated that it wouldn’t all just offer its meaning and history to me, like there was a language i hadn’t learned there. very beautiful and i know its changed jordan’s life, which means its affected mine too, and i love and thank you all for that. congrats on the new space!! maybe its been 7 years labor for this big new baby. i can’t wait to visit again and see what’s shakin.
posted Mar 28, 04:52 PM ~
carlos writes:
gray’s coffee cart out front.
the time i hid in the basement rob studio when some kids were ransacking the building from this rooftop party holding a pipe thinking they might try and break into the studio but instead just listened to them pee on dan devriend’s power tools and go away.
hugo paradise’s salsa workshop and mushroom distribution coolers.
jay and tom with a broken ankle in the basement.
can’t remember the name of that art rooftop party with simultaneous first floor music show when t-givn and kyle and 31 knots? played… we literally moved our living room to it for display.
rooftop pool!
pyrotechnic tom blood birthday party.
halle selassie bachelor party with naked dive into freezing river.
ripping the 500 pound sheet of lead off the side of the building from the rooftop with a crowbar to get two foot more of window revealed.
meeting people by charm bracelet and later fox’s venue.
st. paddy’s day chess tournies.
posted Mar 28, 04:59 PM ~
carlos writes:
come up alisha!
posted Mar 28, 05:01 PM ~
jordan writes:
I emailed Christy months before my internship and, having never been to portland, marriage was the only cool thing i knew about the city. i didn’t think it would work out. i told her i would like to work “in the studio”, go the post office, get to know the “indie-stry”, and get her coffee if it mean i could intern for the summer. i got an email an hour later saying “sounds good”. i was stoked.
first day i got lost traveling from my 6-deep crew’s beavertron two bedroom apartment and called carlos for directions. he met me outside and gave me an hour long tour of the city from the fire escape and the roof! of the oak. we at pepperoni pizza and mike, christy, curtis, fox, and laurel that fucking day were discussing the possibilities of the condor who, even then, a growing baby bird.
i met ashby, a fellow intern, that day too.
i remember staying in 402 for a few weeks after i realized beaverton sucked a wang and would often laugh watching adam’s video-documented trip to the togos out there, see vimeo for more info. i also remember, later on, staying the night when i had a place of my own and waking up before curtis came to work and act like i was just a morning person.
adrian, the only person i “knew” in portland, came back that first week in may from touring europe wearing moccasins and patterns all up in his shit.
most of my dear friendships so far in portland were born in the oak and it’s a strange disconnect to pack up that much stuff and transfer those goods and all those records to a new warehouse building. taking down shit, i began to see posters on the walls that i had never seen. the piano is in a new home but i almost cried sitting in the empty space playing a farewell song and looking at the memories that i am blessed in somehow reliving, even in this post and seeing everyone’s words and the emotion in each one. all different, all dear.
you’re right maria, hell of upgrade. i am not an amateur label dude in a weird art studio, now i’m an amateur label dude in a pro “office” and it felt foreign at first. the fan is gone, fox’s drawings aren’t all over the place (yet) (neither is his pee on the floor, way to go dude!), there isn’t a poster up yet. But there will be. And when I leave I’ll remember where each one was and when it went up and what that day held and we’ll eat pizza and talk about new projects and eat more pepperoni pizza (i am right now!) and fox knows his way around and the space has such possibilities, for everyone, really! i already know where tom’s gonna finish the novel that changed america and we’ll see him from the street as we walk up morrison from a night at mfps.
so come by and lets fly helicopters in the big room and eat at gretchen’s kitchen.
posted Mar 28, 05:06 PM ~
jordan writes:
and jamie, i remember that shit it was crazy!
posted Mar 28, 05:11 PM ~
tony writes:
this building means afreaking lot to sooo many different people. i feel all chesty when i think about what it means to me, and i got that same feeling reading the comments just now, very magical place…Bestowing
posted Mar 28, 05:29 PM ~
jordan writes:
it’s where fist met fang and tempo changed
posted Mar 28, 05:48 PM ~
tony writes:
oh yeah! manohmanohman
posted Mar 28, 07:55 PM ~
solomon writes:
Studying in the studio for my last AP examination while Zachary sat shredding through his Fuzz Factory. In the following month a passed the exam and bought a Fuzz Factory.
posted Mar 29, 11:49 AM ~
Jeffrey writes:
i wish i could have been apart of all of these stories shared.
but unfortunately i was too young and didn’t know the great things that existed with in my own city.
maybe one day as I’m walking past the building i will relive these moments in your lives.
posted Mar 29, 10:57 PM ~
erin writes:
goodness. first memory sharing vivid dreams (i.e. falling hypnotized into blue ocean), early early morning, ensuing jealousy. halloween joan of arc. playing maraca made of vitamin bottle w/little wings set up. dumping my vodka&redbull on my own head in the lift, new year’s eve. and vegan pancakes somewhere in there.
goodness.
posted Mar 31, 07:18 AM ~
Forkner writes:
noodlman’s notes on the front door of marriage
noodleman’s front desk
chesty’s DVDs
that rack of letter decals
joe haige lived here
thor’s kids’ meth darkness
urbanhonking party at ‘the cupcake’
big pile of weird dirt in an otherwise barren room with dlo and larkin in a weird dark place, dave doing temp work,
eating continental breakfast and rolling rolly’s in the morning at mays, planning dolphin fest from there
JP, d-lo, vvrssnn show at may’s, dave climbing the walls, as was his wont at that point
curtis and miranda
that fake deaf german dude and his lame dog
saying hi to the devil in the stairwell
that burning man dude on the 4th now
talks with harry on the dock about art, life, religion, spirit
hamster lady on the 4th
dude from tres gone with the chapman stick on the forth, pre mise hut
setting off huge arial fireworks on the ground outside on the 4th of july, people stealing ice cream from the trucks. lots and lots of ice cream
tom’s special purple building dock pose
the walk to the shell,
the drunken walk back from mfp, probably raining
rob-o-ween
rob wednesdays
i was there for fox’s first steps on that carpet
brad energy drinks and corn nuts
the sky from our windows
the heat from the sun from the sky from our windows
sheri grill
printing out shitty coupons for the sheri grill
late night supertapes grand junction poker checkers and whispered wisdom at toms, in the dark, a candle, the walls dripping, darkened potatoes on the stove, a tennis ball.
the blue rob van
the red rob van
that vw bus
adrian’s van
adrian’s station wagon
aaron f’s little toyota
mike and christy’s neon or similar?
the cube
the darkness of oak related emotional crumbling winter 07 and the frail beauty aftermath blossom of spring 08
other stuff
pizza
posted Mar 31, 11:13 AM ~
Nudelman writes:
Thanks Adam, I forgot about my front desk…
I remember my first day interning and no one showing up until 12:30.
Meeting everyone the first day was a surreal experience…I will never forget it.
Oak Street was a second home to me during the summer of 2007 (summer of love?)
I will always remember those three months.
…playing bass with Adrian
…Watching Adam do shit with effect pedals
…Curtis on that piano thing
…Endless trips to the post office…
Oak will always be in my memory.
I don’t think Belmont can match the legend, but it will have a space in my thoughts too.
posted Apr 1, 08:04 PM ~
byron writes:
I am listening
posted Apr 2, 10:40 PM ~
wrd writes:
Reconciling expectations.
Cowboy coffee and cards.
Blow-up dolls in the closet.
Breaking the plexiglass mirror.
Sleeping through poker parties and jam sessions.
Wearing last night’s sequins to morning class.
Flea bites from cast-off clothing in the hall.
Sumner’s well-windowed claw-foot tub.
The little bird paper puzzle love day.
The fight over the yellow light.
Privacy in the rocking chair.
The Confused Mexicans.
19th century plumbing.
Growing cracks in the walls.
Daisy-chained space heaters.
Buckets of green house leakage.
Trial-and-error with the washer.
The dryer that won’t stop drying.
Killing can mountain with Dave.
Aaron’s gift-bearing appearances.
Trading tobacco and tea with Brad.
Happy times with Adrian and Davis.
Adam always with all of the answers.
Brr-ing and Burberry bagging with Honey.
Free coffee from the bike shop with Curtis.
Jordan’s young friends saving Anacortes.
Jordan always saving the day. Always.
The best breakfast in the morning.
Hypnotic reading during sleeping.
RIP, the two-seater throne, RIP.
RIP, the monkey puzzle limb.
The summer of sadness.
The fractured fall.
The winter of WTF.
And spring?
posted Apr 4, 12:09 PM ~
wrd writes:
. . . and the Wire. How could I forget.
posted Apr 4, 12:11 PM ~
Umbrella Booth writes:
One of my favorite memories from the fourth floor is of the time in early summer 2003, I was working for BHDO. After work, Dave wanted to come up and see The Oak; This place where his son was always spending time. He wanted to find out more about who Adrian was hanging out with, I think. Curtis met us at 402, showed Dave around the Studio. I dont know what Dave was expecting, but once Curtis showed him the custom carpentry work, the stage, the loft, the amazing view, I could tell Dave was way impressed. Kind of choked up, and perhaps even envious. I swear I saw the glimmer of a tear in his eye as he looked out over the city view. Out in the hall, Dave and Curtis shook hands and talked a little about things. I knew at that moment that BHD had given his Blessing. After that it was the “summer of Dolphin”, remember?
posted Apr 4, 07:15 PM ~
dirk writes:
one thing that i had always appriciated and appriciate even more now, is that i was always able to get into the oak st. either by yelling to someone’s window or throwing a rock from the sheridan loading dock. i still don’t have a cell phone and so i still don’t just call people in front of buildings. it involves a lot of waiting and i end up looking fully sketchy. i’ve never once felt sketchy in front of the oak.
posted Apr 6, 10:38 PM ~