I went to the “Death and Burial” of Kulture Lab last night expecting the unexpected, but what I found was truly surprising. I expected to be crammed in 500-600 other people but instead, the turn-out seemed to be more in the 100-200 range. Maybe every one was just too sad about the loss of Kulture Lab and they were home snuggling with tear soaked pillows. Some people just don’t do funerals. Not that the party was quite that somber â€" on the contrary.

The art was intriguing, as usual.  Several mixed media 3 dimensional paintings were displayed and I’ve always found those really interesting. Large clear glass pieces seemed to drip from the walls. A giant Jimi Hendrix painting immediately caught my eye. Also, Mr. Witticism (aka John Kephart) showed some of his paintings for the very first time and all these years I’ve known him I never even knew he was an artist. Apparently in addition to being a local filmmaker and a guitar player he also paints! Geez, you think you know a guy…

Things I loved about the final hurrah of Kulture Lab:

The Confession booth that everyone had to go into before entering the party was a neat idea. If you couldn’t think of a confession, the Dead Artists thoughtfully inscribed about 25 of them on the inside wall for people to read aloud like: “I hate my Boss,” “I pooped my pants in public,” and “I’m a raging alcoholic.” Unbeknown to the confessing, these confessions were projected on the wall inside the party as entertainment for guests already inside.

The costumes people wore were cool, like the Pope who took the confessions, the “Clockwork Orange” guy, the Catholic Priest, the Russian soldier and Jesus in a toga. Nowhere but a Kulture Lab party would you see such things.

I spoke to Byron who was the one dressed in the soviet uniform. When I asked him about it he said the uniform belonged to a soviet soldier who came to America several years ago to recover a piece of a Russian spacecraft that jettisoned during its ascent. The tale, as he told it, was that the Russians were selling what ever they could to the Americans while they were here and a friend of his name Keiko bought the uniform and immigration papers from one of them. Byron produced a Xerox copy of the papers from his pocket to show us. When asked why he chose to wear the outfit specifically to Kulture Lab he said it was because Keiko gave it to him earlier that day and this was his first opportunity to take his new uniform out for a spin.

The food was, as usual, a sight to behold. The table was costumed as well in the dead artists theme and the food was fabulous. The dessert cups were very tempting but we only nibbled on beef Shish kabobs and bread and spinach dip. I heard the Jell-O shots were amazing too.

I had several interesting conversations with bright shiny people that I like. For instance Bennett Thurman told me that he had just come from magistrating a wedding for some close friends of his. I said that I didn’t know he was ordained and he said he wasn’t. He said in this state anyone can perform a wedding ceremony, no license required. That makes two new things I learned last night!

The magician, Heath Delaney, who was part of the entertainment at Kulture Lab was a surprise. Upon first glance he appeared to be a street hustling card shark type of guy that you see in movies and on TV show set in New York City. When we built up enough courage to approach him it was clear that this guy was an artist and a pretty skilled one at that. He moved the cards with a ballet like grace and rearranged them in artistic formations all the while tricking the eyes of his spectators and turning up cards that turn out not to be the ones expected at all.

Then he did the trick that I still can’t stop thinking about. He handed me his business card and asked me to write the name of someone I cared deeply about, someone who has had a great impact on my life. He turned away and I wrote down my daughter’s name, Jesse, who was standing right next to me. Then I folded up the card like he asked and handed it back to him. He never opened the folded card. He stared into my eyes for several seconds and I felt as though he was stealing a piece of my soul. It was hard to maintain eye contact and I think I started to giggle nervously. Then he said he was having a hard time guessing the name so he wanted me to write down her first initial and circle it on the same card. He turned away again and I did so then folded the card back up and gave it to him. He held the card never unfolding it and asked me to squeeze his well formed forearm. When I let go he rubbed his arm and a red mark arose in the shape of a J. He said it was your daughter Jesse who is standing right here. How the heck? I don’t know but I was amazed. Afterward I read his business card. The slogan on it said “…disturbed reality.”

The party was fun but several regulars were conspicuously missing and we missed them. Also, one of the entertainers Stephanie Johnson didn’t arrive until near closing time so we didn’t get to hear her sing.

Rob Anderson and Matt Eklund filled in with some nice impromptu jamming (Anderson on keyboard and Eklund on guitar) and afterward Eklund rocked the loop pedal which allows him to play along with himself and himself and himself. Ya gotta love the music technology available theses days.

After that a Brazilian band that was scheduled to perform showed up without gear essential for their performance. They needed a CD player to play their background music and there wasn’t one on the premises. When we left (about 10:30 p.m.) it wasn’t clear whether or not a CD player could be obtained or not and by then there were so few people left that I don’t even know if it mattered.

Rumor had it that the party was going to go until midnight instead of the usual 10 pm. But standing around for that many hours wasn’t what my aching feet had in mind so we had to go. We definitely had a good time, if not a GREAT time. â€" Angela Jossy

[Photography by Joseph Kapler]