Guitar ace Slash rose to prominence with an unmistakable look as the anchor of Guns N’ Roses. A true rock ’n’ roll persona, the artist was once rarely seen without a drooping cigarette and a top hat, the latter of which could barely contain his face-engulfing curly hair.
Now, as of this week, he’s a theme park character at Universal Studios Hollywood.
Share via
Slash, or, rather, a skeletal facsimile of him played by an actor, will be available for photo opportunities and meet and greets at Universal’s Halloween Horror Nights, which runs most evenings through Nov. 2. For the musician, born Saul Hudson, it’s a dream fulfilled. A lifelong devotee of theme parks and coasters, Slash has been closely aligned with Halloween Horror Nights since 2014, when he first began scoring music for its haunted houses.
And the character, he says, was partly his idea.
“I went to them and said, ‘Hey, can we have one of those stilt walkers?’” says Slash, referring to the larger-than-life lurkers who haunt guests during the festivities. “That would be really cool. So they came up with one and he looks pretty menacing.”
Slash enjoys the idea of being a towering, sometimes intimidating presence. That’s clear when he’s on stage as the attention-demanding cornerstone of numerous bands. And he likes to scare, as evidenced by his own horror-focused film production company, BerserkerGang. But get Slash one-on-one, and he really just wants to geek out on his favorite theme park rides.
Universal Studios has released a second vinyl compilation of music Slash has composed for Halloween Horror Nights over the years.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
We talked to Slash about a week before Halloween Horror Nights opened from Orlando, Fla., where he was holed up recording an album with his band the Conspirators. That work, he says, will be released in 2027 due to planned 2026 touring obligations with Guns N’ Roses. He lamented that he wouldn’t have time to visit Walt Disney World and Universal’s new Epic Universe. The latter Florida park is home to a monsters-themed land that Slash said he was eager to see.
His love of theme parks runs deep, and is, of course, nonpartisan.
“I’m a real Disney head,” he says, joking that such a declaration may not make his Universal partners happy. He says he first visited Disneyland in the early 1970s. “I really can’t put into words what makes it so magical, but there is a definite thing there that you feel when you’re actually there. I’ve loved it since I was a little kid.”
“But I love theme parks in general,” he continues. “I love roller coasters. I love that carnival energy going on. I love arcades. I love everything about that festive outdoor thing, and I’ve never grown out of it.”
Arguably, he’s grown into it.
Halloween season means it’s time for Universa’s Halloween Horror Nights, which runs through early November at the theme park.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
Slash has a deep fascination with Universal Studios, made clear by his knowledge of how the park’s backlot tram trek — officially designated as the World-Famous Studio Tour — has shifted over the years. And as a lifelong horror fan who speaks nostalgically of watching 1970s films such as “The Wicker Man,” “The Omen” and “The Exorcist” with his parents, Halloween Horror Nights is especially dear to Slash’s heart.
Slash was first drawn to the event in 2013 due to a haunted house themed around the music and images of Black Sabbath. The artist was given a tour of Horror Nights by John Murdy, who has long overseen the West Coast edition of the festivities.
“I was so blown away,” Slash says. “I was elated. I remember physically making giddy sounds. The whole thing, from the stilt walkers to the invisible bush figures who would hide in the bushes and were camouflaged, it was unbelievable. I wanted to be involved.”
Murdy was open to the idea. “The first time I walked into his personal recording studio, the first thing I noticed was a huge print of ‘Bride of Frankenstein,’ our 1935 classic, hanging on the wall. And I was like, ‘Oh, we have something in common.’”
Halloween Horror Nights is filled with haunted houses and scare actors.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
Slash would go on to write the music for six Halloween Horror Nights houses centered around Universal’s classic monster characters. This year, he’s returned to Horror Nights with a score set to a relaunch of an original, Depression-era set maze, “Scarecrow.” Musically, it’s a departure for the artist. “Scarecrow” includes a Slash-composed cover of traditional folk number “O Death.”
“We started talking ‘Scarecrow,’ and as pure coincidence, he said, ‘Oh, I just learned the banjo and the dobro,’” Murdy says. “He was learning all these traditional Appalachian instruments, and I said, ‘That’s awesome because my house is set in the Dust Bowl.’”
That Slash has been dipping into more Americana-influenced music isn’t a complete surprise. His 2024 solo effort, “Orgy of the Damned,” leans blues for instance, including a blistering, rootsy take on early Fleetwood Mac rocker “Oh Well” with country star Chris Stapleton. Selections from Slash’s Halloween Horror Nights work, minus the new “Scarecrow” music, will again be available on a limited-run vinyl sold at Universal Studios during Halloween Horror Nights.
Slash is featured this year as a “character” at Halloween Horror Nights, a skeletal, stilt-walking interpretation of the artist.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
“As soon as they gave me the concept, my brain went into that realm — I could pull out my pedal steel, and do an Americana-type approach, as opposed to the goth, kind of pseudo-metal thing I was doing for all the Universal Monsters,” Slash says.
Slash has become such a Halloween Horror Nights fixture that this year will feature a bar centered around the artist, one complete with a mini top hat as a dessert. When asked how he feels to be immortalized as a sculpted sponge cake with coconut lime mousse, he doesn’t flinch.
“I wish I could explain in words how much I love that kind of stuff,” Slash says.
He is, after all, a theme park regular, although his favorite rides are found a few miles from Universal Studios in Anaheim. “I love the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. That and Pirates of the Caribbean will always be my two favorite rides,” he says. “The attention to detail and the creative element and everything that is going on with those old Disney rides is still, to this day, second to none.”
Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios
The mark of any true theme park aficionado is an appreciation of slow-moving, old-school dark rides, attractions that are set in darkened show buildings and often filled with an assortment of vignettes. Slash singles out Universal’s “The Secret Life of Pets: Off the Leash” as another highlight.
“I went with my stepdaughter and we went on that ride and it’s great,” Slash says. “The ‘Pets’ one is really sweet. I’m a big animal guy. We love our cats, so that was a lot of fun.”
Crowds lined up to enter “Scarecrow,” a haunted house at Halloween Horror Nights featuing music by Slash.
(Gabriella Angotti-Jones / For The Times)
And before Slash can finish his next thought, he starts gushing about a recent trip to Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, where he visited Ferrari World, home to a number of celebrated roller coasters.
Last fall, indie pop auteur Tei Shi immersed herself in the British Columbia backwoods during a creative retreat — an experience that helped her reclaim artistic control over her decade-long career.
Out Friday, the Canadian Colombian singer shares her most intimate album to date, “Make believe I make believe,” a 10-track record she’s self-releasing through Tei Shi LLC and the Orchard.
“Being back home, reconnecting with family and old friends, and working without any outside voices or pressure — no label, manager, or restrictions — allowed me to fully dive into my mind and emotions,” says Tei Shi in a statement.
The 35-year-old singer-songwriter attended the weeklong retreat in Vancouver Island, Canada, with longtime collaborators Noah Beresin (co-creator of the alternative hip-hop project Chiddy Bang) and Tommy English (the record producer behind many of Børns’ hits).
“The result is a really versatile collection that captures a wide range of feelings and touches on sonics from Canadiana to neo-perreo,” she adds.
Since emerging in the music scene with her breakthrough 2013 debut EP, “Saudade,” and follow-up 2015 EP, “Verde,” Tei Shi — whose real name is Valerie Teicher Barbosa — remains untethered to a genre, ebbing and flowing between dream-pop, indie folk and shoegaze.
Her new, fourth studio album expands on the 2024 LP, “Valerie,” her first independent project, which was released after departing her previous label, Downtown Records (then under Geffen), which left her feeling creatively wounded. With new control of her artistic vision, unfettered by the demands of the mainstream music industry, the move has allowed Tei Shi to release songs in both English and Spanish.
This time around, the artist leans into her multicultural identity, experimenting whimsically with what she has lovingly dubbed Canadianatón — a sonic palette inspired by her upbringing in Vancouver’s mountainous terrain and the melancholic Latin ballads she was raised with.
She digs further into the gritty neo-perreo sound with tantalizing tracks like “222,” featuring Loyal Lobos, and the sticky, synth-laden melody of “Don’t Cry.” In contrast, Tei Shi’s feathery vocals float lightly over a sensual bolero beat in “Aphrodite.”
In the album’s focus track, “Montón,” an upbeat reggaeton track, the artist surrenders herself to the natural motions of love and lust.
“‘Montón’ is a song about falling for someone, crushing hard and giving into it,” says Tei Shi. “I picture it as a late night with your bb, up all night just the two of you in your room, dancing together and tuning out the world.”
It also wouldn’t be a complete Tei Shi album without the thoughtful layering of ethereal beats, most evident in the advance single “Best Be Leaving,” which echoes the essence of legendary dream-pop band Cocteau Twins.
The “Bassically” singer also dropped details on her upcoming U.S. headline tour, which kicks off Sept. 26 in Los Angeles’ Lodge Room. Tei Shi will make a stop in 11 other North American cities, including stops in Washington, D.C., New York, Chicago, Toronto and more.
Tyler, the Creator had his fans searching for words after he announced the lineup for his annual music festival Camp Flog Gnaw in a puzzling manner.
The “Igor” artist posted an actual word search on his Instagram containing the name of the musicians joining him for the 11th edition of the two-day event. His signature carnival will be on the grounds of Dodger Stadium on Nov. 15 and 16.
This year’s edition will feature A$AP Rocky, Childish Gambino, Doechii, Earl Sweatshirt, Thundercat and 2 Chainz.
An eclectic mixture of artists — from the raw hip-hop of sounds from Clipse to the indie-pop tracks of Clairo and the melodic vocals of T-Pain — rounds out the lineup.
Fans can join a wait-list for tickets, which sold out right after release in May.
The festival was founded by Tyler, the Creator in 2012 and incorporates music and carnival attractions such as rides and games. Previous iterations of the fest have staged artists like SZA, Solange, Kaytranada, André 3000 and Fuerza Regida.
Tyler, the Creator is coming off the release of his ninth studio album, “Don’t Tap the Glass,” and a world tour for his previous EP, “Chromakopia.”
Puerto Rican pop visionary Rauw Alejandro will be honored at the 38th annual Hispanic Heritage Awards.
On Wednesday, the Hispanic Heritage Foundation announced that the singer-songwriter will receive the 2025 Hispanic Heritage Award for Vision, a title that honors his groundbreaking contributions to Latin music and his role in shaping its global future.
“As an artist in constant motion, Rauw Alejandro embodies the very essence of the vision award, bold in creativity, future-focused in his global impact and unapologetically original in everything he does,” says Antonio Tijerino, president and chief executive of HHF. “His work is not just music, it’s a movement that confirms what Latin artists mean to the world.”
The award, established by the White House in 1998, is bestowed on notable public figures for their accomplishments and cultural contributions to the Latino community. Past honorees, specifically in the vision category, include Wisin, Ivy Queen, Bad Bunny, Residente and more.
The 32-year-old songwriter from San Juan welcomed the award with an unveiling of his own: the title of his next album, “Cosa Nuestra: Capítulo 0.”
“This is just the beginning … with my next project ‘Capítulo 0’ I want to keep showcasing not only Puerto Rico, but the full essence of the Caribbean.”
News of this honor should not come as a surprise to those who have been following Rauw Alejandro’s career and hustle. His 2020 debut album, “Afrodisíaco,” earned him his first Grammy nomination for best urban music album, as well as a Grammy nod for best new artist.
Throughout the years, the eclectic singer-songwriter and dance phenom has innovated the Latin music scene with the release of experimental albums like his electronic and R&B-inspired LP, “Vice Versa,” in 2021; his techno-infused psychedelic album, “Saturno,” in 2022; and his beachy follow-up, “Playa Saturno,” in 2023.
In 2024, Rauw Alejandro released his fifth studio album, “Cosa Nuestra,” a project inspired by New York City’s salsa music scene in the 1970s. Upon its release, the record landed him the No. 1 spot on Billboard’s Latin Albums chart, and No. 6 on the Billboard 200. The critically-acclaimed album is likely to claim top prizes at the upcoming 2025 Latin Grammys.
“‘Cosa Nuestra’ has always been my way of representing my island, my culture, and my people — wherever they may be,” said Rauw Alejandro in a statement. “Every detail — the beats, the visuals, the dancing — reflects part of our Puerto Rican roots and our connection with other sister cultures, because we’ve been shaping the history of music for a long time.”
The 38th annual Hispanic Heritage Awards will take place on Sept. 4 at the Warner Theatre in Washington, D.C. To date, this year’s honorees include NPR’s Felix Contreras, stoner comic Cheech Marin, Rizos Curls chief executive Julissa Prado and more.
Fifty years ago, L.A. free-jazz titan Bobby Bradford moved into a rambling, verdant house in Altadena. The cornet and trumpet virtuoso, who performed in Ornette Coleman’s band and taught jazz history at Pomona College and Pasadena City College for decades, chose the neighborhood partly because it was bustling with artists. He finally had enough bedrooms for his young family to thrive in a bucolic corner of the city with deep Black roots.
In January, Bradford’s house burned down in the Eaton fire, alongside thousands of others in his cherished Altadena. At 91, he never imagined starting his life over again in tiny rented apartments, with decades of memories in cinders.
Despite it all, he’s still playing music. (He said that while he did not receive grants from major organizations such as MusiCares or Sweet Relief, a GoFundMe and others efforts by fellow musicians helped him replace his cherished horn.)
At the Hammer Museum on Thursday, he’ll revisit “Stealin’ Home,” a 2019 suite of original compositions inspired by his lifelong hero — the baseball legend and Dodgers’ color-line-breaker Jackie Robinson, a man who knew about persevering through sudden, unrelenting adversity.
“That’s all I have left,” Bradford said, pulling his horn out of its case to practice for the afternoon. “I’m [91] years old. I don’t have years to wait around to rebuild.”
For now, Bradford lives a small back house on a quiet Pasadena residential street. It’s his and his wife’s fifth temporary residence since the Eaton fire, and they’ve done their best to make it a home. Bradford hung up vintage posters from old European jazz festivals and corralled enough equipment together to peaceably write music in the garage.
Still, he misses his home in Altadena — both the physical neighborhood where he’d run into friends at the post office and the dream of Altadena, where working artists and multigenerational families could live next to nature at the edge of Los Angeles.
“We knew who all the musicians were. Even if we didn’t spent much time all together, it did feel like one big community,” Bradford said. “We knew players for the L.A. Phil, painters, dancers.”
L.A.-based jazz composer/musician Bobby Bradford plays the cornet while rehearsing his original composition in his Altadena home in 2019.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
These days, there’s a weariness in his eyes and gait, understandable after such a profound disruption in the twilight of his life. He’s grateful that smaller local institutions have stepped up to provide places for him to practice his craft, even as insurance companies dragged him through a morass. “The company said they won’t insure me again because because I filed a claim on my house,” he said, bewildered. “How is that my fault?”
But he draws resilience from his recent music, which evokes the gigantic accomplishments and withering abuse Robinson faced as the first Black player in Major League Baseball. As a child in 1947, Bradford remembers listening to the moment Robinson took the field, and while he has always admired the feat, his understanding of Robinson has evolved with age.
“It was such a revelation to me as a kid, but later I was more interested in who the person was that would agree to be the sacrificial lamb,” Bradford said. “How do you turn that into flesh-and-blood music? I began to think about him being called up, with a kind of call-and-response in the music.”
The challenge Bradford gave himself — evoking Robinson’s grace on the field and fears off it — caps a long career of adapting his art form to reflect and challenge the culture around him.
With Coleman’s band in the ’50s and ’60s, and on his own formidable catalog as a bandleader, he helped pioneer free jazz, a style that subverted the studied cool of bebop with blasts of atonality and mercurial song structures. He played on Coleman’s 1972 LP “Science Fiction,” alongside Indian vocalist Asha Puthli. “Ornette played with so much raw feeling,” Bradford said. “He showed me how the same note could be completely different if you played it in a different chord. I had to learn that to play his songs.” His longstanding collaboration with clarinetist John Carter set the template for post-bop in L.A., charged with possibility but lyrical and yearning.
American jazz trumpeter Bobby Bradford performs onstage circa 1980.
(David Redfern / Redferns)
He’s equally proud of his decades in academia, introducing young students to centuries of the Black American music that culminated in jazz, and the new ways of being that emerged from it. At both Pomona College and Pasadena City College (where Robinson attended and honed his athletic prowess), Bradford helped his students inhabit the double consciousness required of Black artists to survive, invent and advance their art forms in America — from slavery’s field songs to Southern sacred music, to Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Sarah Vaughan and into the wilds of modernity.
“You always had that one kid who thinks he knows more about this than I do,” he said with a laugh. “But then you make him understand that to get to this new Black identity, you have to understand what Louis Armstrong had to overcome, how he had to perform in certain ways in front of white people, so he could create this music.”
He’s been rehearsing with a mix of older and younger local musicians at Healing Force of the Universe, a beloved Pasadena record store and venue that reminds him of the makeshift jazz club he owned near Pasadena’s Ice House in the ’70s.
Places like that are on edge in L.A. these days. Local clubs such as ETA and the Blue Whale (where Bradford recorded a live album in 2018) have closed or faced hard times postpandemic. Others, like the new Blue Note in Hollywood, have big aspirations. He’s hopeful L.A. jazz — ever an improvisational art form — will survive and thrive even after the loss of a neighborhood like Altadena displaced so many artists. “I remember someone coming into our club in the ’70s and saying he hated the music we were playing. I asked him what he didn’t like about it, and he said, ‘Well, everything.’ I told him, ‘Maybe this isn’t the place for you then,’” Bradford laughed. “You can’t live in Los Angeles without that spirit. There are always going to be new places to play.”
Bobby Bradford rehearses in Pasadena.
(Michael Rowe / For The Times)
He’s worried about the country, though, as many once-settled questions about who belongs in America are called into doubt under the current president. January’s wildfires proved to him, very intimately, that the most fixed points in one’s life and community are vulnerable.
Even Jackie Robinson, whose feats seemed an indisputable point of pride for all Americans, had his military career temporarily scrubbed from government websites in a recent purge against allegedly “woke” history.
“I thought we had rowed ourselves across the River Jordan,” Bradford said, shaking his head. “But now we’re back on the other side again. We thought we had arrived.”
Who knows how many years of performing Bradford has left. But as the sound of his melancholy horn arced through a sweltering Pasadena afternoon, one couldn’t help but be grateful to still have him here playing, even after losing everything.
“You know, in his first game, in three times at bat, Jackie Robinson didn’t get a hit,” he said. “Folks said, ‘Oh, it’s so sad. We told you he couldn’t play on a professional level.’ But when you dig into it, you discover that he didn’t get a hit at the game, but he laid down a sacrifice to score the winning run.”
Some SoCal residents spent their summer at the beach, or at their local rooftop pool; others spent it indoors, hiding from ICE agents.
It’s why Riverside artist Perry Picasshoe spent his summer documenting the melting of 36 ice blocks on sidewalks across the Inland Empire.
He traveled to nine locations, a mix of parks, storefronts and gas stations, where immigration enforcement raids have taken place in the past few weeks. In each spot, he placed four 25-pound ice blocks on the ground and took photos of them as they melted. He would periodically check on the progress, he explained, and found that some were smashed into pieces or completely disappeared.
“I took it as a metaphor of what’s happening,” Picasshoe said, referencing the recent ICE raids taking place across Southern California. “I was also thinking a lot about having these blocks of ice as almost a stand-in for people.”
This latest art piece is just one of the many other Chicano-focused projects that Picasshoe has created in his hometown in the past three years. His goal, among all of the artworks, is to push its residents to reflect on the complexity of the Inland Empire’s Latino identity.
Perry Picasshoe and his father place an ice block near the epicenter of the city’s monthly arts walk in downtown Riverside on July 3, 2025.
(Daniel Hernandez)
Juan Carlos Hernandez Marquez is an emerging Mexican American multidisciplinary artist from Riverside who goes by the stage name Perry Picasshoe. The moniker, which he created as a teenager, is a play on Pablo Picasso’s name mixed with an early 2010s social media term “art hoe.” Under this pseudonym, Picasshoe first gained recognition for creating art that explored the complexities of his dueling identities of being an LGBTQ+ artist while surrounded by traditional Latino ideals.
While studying visual arts at UCLA, he reimagined Sandro Botticelli’s painting “The Birth of Venus” with LGBTQ+ imagery, created a 9-foot-tall Christmas cactus in honor of the time he spent with his father during the holidays and hosted a solo exhibition called “Mystic Garden,” which showcased pieces inspired by flowers given to him by an ex-partner. It’s also where he developed his signature red-dominant style in both his fashion and art.
“Red is my comfort color,” Picasshoe said.
He suffered from occasional panic attacks while studying at UCLA, he explained, which discouraged him from going to school. It continued for months — until he found himself wearing a bright red outfit, which brought him a sense of peace.
“It just kind of grew from there,” he added. “It just followed me everywhere that I went.”
Picasshoe also posted videos showcasing his pieces on social media. Like his artwork, his posts were intricately filmed and edited with bright red accents. They were also accompanied by narration detailing the work’s inspiration, creation process and meaning. His efforts amassed him almost 200,000 followers between TikTok and Instagram.
This rapid growth, both on social media and within his network, brought new opportunities to grow professionally in Los Angeles. Yet after graduating in 2022, he decided to continue his career in his hometown instead.
“It was just a different pace that I was not ready for,” he said. “The art scene out here is much more [based in] community, as opposed to [money] or clout. It’s more of making work that people here will get to enjoy.”
It’s a decision that’s worked in his favor.
This year, he’s been honored by the city at the Mayor’s Ball for the Arts with the Emerging Artist award and recognized as one of UCLA’s top 100 alumni entrepreneurs for 2025. Picasshoe’s decision to be a professional artist within the Inland Empire also came at a time when opportunities for Latino artists in the region have grown in recent years.
Cosme Cordova, long-time Riverside Chicano artist and Division 9 Gallery founder, explained that for decades, Latino artists considered Riverside a “boot camp” instead of a city where they could make a living. They would earn some money in their hometown, then travel to other prominent locations, like Los Angeles or Palm Springs, where artists felt their work was more respected. As the years went on, he said, the local community began to understand the value in supporting its artists.
“Then when the Cheech came, it’s got international attention, so it’s just gotten even better,” Cordova said. “I’m starting to see a lot of artists now more genuinely focused on just trying to showcase their work here in Riverside.”
The most prominent addition within the region has been the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art and Culture — known colloquially as “the Cheech.” The museum is widely considered the only space in the country that exclusively showcases Latino-made exhibitions, including some of Picasshoe’s work.
Since returning to the Inland Empire, Picasshoe’s artistic vision caught the attention of both community leaders and larger institutions. While hosting one of his first solo exhibitions, called “Red Thoughts,” at the Eastside Arthouse in Riverside, the directors of the Cheech took notice of his unique style.
“They approach their work with abandon, with any medium,” said María Esther Fernández, the center’s artistic director. “They had an installation and it was very interactive and immersive. I think pushing the boundaries of that is really fun and innovative.”
It would lead Picasshoe to work on a wide range of projects in collaboration with the Chicano art center for the next three years.
Perry Picasshoe stands in front of the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art & Culture in Riverside, Calif., on July 3, 2025.
(Daniel Hernandez)
Last year, Picasshoe teamed up with Inland Empire-based artist Emmanuel Camacho Larios to curate an exhibition for the Cheech’s community gallery called “Desde los Cielos.”
“It was a group show that explored what the term ‘alien’ meant in the context of Chicanxs, and alien in the political, the social and the queerness of it all,” Picasshoe said. “I also made a huge painting for that one, the largest that I’ve ever done so far.”
The seven-foot-tall painting, called “Simulacra of Guillermo Hernandez, Beethoven, y los Guachimontones,” depicts his late grandfather sitting on the bed of a pickup truck alongside a small chihuahua. In the background, looming over his abuelo, is a giant circular pyramid built by the Teuchitlán people. A golden pyramid, made from Abuelita Mexican Chocolate bricks, was placed in front of the painting; the bricks were free for the taking during the exhibition’s debut.
After the time for his co-curated exhibition ended, another installation named “Queer Wishes” was featured in the Cheech for an exhibition co-curated by the Eastside Arthouse’s founder and resident artist.
The piece is a three-dimensional black box with a white dress made from bath towels and bedazzled gems displayed on a dress form mannequin inside. Next to the mannequin is a small black vanity desk and mirror with makeup and porcelain wishbones filling the table’s surface.
“The first time I was really able to express myself was when I would get out of the bathroom, put my bath towel on and pretend it was a dress,” Picasshoe said. “I know I’m not the only one with that experience of being in the bathroom and having that be the only time you have to yourself.”
Since debuting the installation at the Cheech, Picasshoe had hoped to take a step back from creating larger community-focused pieces and spend time finalizing some personal projects. However, as immigration enforcement raids ramped up in Southern California, Picasshoe felt the need to create artwork to express his frustration.
Picasshoe and his father drove the family truck to Fontana on July 3 to pick up three translucent ice slabs, each about 40 inches tall and weighing around 300 pounds, and brought them back to downtown Riverside.
They arrived 45 minutes before the start of the city’s monthly arts walk, an event where dozens of local vendors set up booths to sell their artwork to hundreds of residents.
Picasshoe and his father slowly unloaded the slabs from the truck’s bed onto a dolly and wheeled the installations out into the three chosen locations: the front of the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art and Culture, the epicenter of the city’s monthly arts walk event and the front of the Riverside County Superior Court.
A wooden platform was placed under each slab, with the words “life,” “liberty” and “the pursuit of happiness,” written upside down and divided between the three art pieces, along with a QR code explaining its meaning.
He chose this day, he said, because of its high foot traffic. It was the best opportunity to help some passersby feel represented while confronting others with a hard truth.
“Art should be lived in,” Picasshoe said. “It’s prevalent in a lot of my work, and especially this one, since it’s meant to be commenting on something regarding the public.”
Hello, this is De Los reporter Carlos De Loera. I will be taking over the Latinx Files for the next couple of months while Fidel is on parental leave. I hope I do him justice!
“No me quiero ir de aquí.”
It’s more than just the name of Bad Bunny’s months-long Puerto Rico concert residency; it’s a radical declaration against colonialism and gentrification, as well as a defiant call for cultural preservation and celebration.
This week the U.S. federal government exercised another overreach of power over Puerto Rico, when the Trump administration dismissed five out of seven members of Puerto Rico’s federal control board that oversees the U.S. territory’s finances. All of the fired board members belonged to the Democratic Party; the remaining two members are Republicans.
As other parts of the Spanish-speaking world grapple with being priced out of their own communities, and a wateringdown of their long-standing cultures, artists in Puerto Rico are using their work to give visitors a not-so-gentle reminder: No one can kick them out of their own home.
Last week, the Latinx advocacy group Mijente — alongside the art collective AgitArte — collaborated with local Puerto Rican artists and organizations to present a free art exhibition that highlights the everyday societal struggles of Boricuas. Located in the Santurce barrio of San Juan, the “De Aquí Nadie Nos Saca” exhibit is marketing itself as a spiritual companion piece to Bad Bunny’s album, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” by delving into the musical joy and ongoing resistance movements of the island.
The name of the exhibition itself is a play on the lyrics from Bad Bunny’s track “La Mudanza,” in which he sings, “De aquí nadie me saca” — “nobody can get me out of here.” But the space has more than just a thematic connection to the Grammy-winning artist.
Members of AgitArte and one of its affiliated community theater collectives, Papel Machete, contributed to the “La Mudanza” music video by providing a giant papier-mâché puppet named La Maestra Combativa. It can be seen in the last minute of the video, holding up a colorful sign that reads “De aquí nadie me saca.”
The momentum of Bad Bunny’s latest album and subsequent tour met Mijente’s mission at a serendipitous time that led to the creation of the new showcase.
“The socio-cultural moment and the political moment needed different kinds of things, not just the normal playbook of social work,” said Mijente communications director Enrique Cárdenas Sifre. “We needed to experiment a little bit more.”
According to Cárdenas Sifre, part of the hope for the exhibition is to combat a pervasive narrative that Latinx people are more conservative-leaning than they realize.
Bad Bunny’s sentiment of “todo el mundo quiere ser latino” — and the universal praise and online utilization of “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” — allowed for Mijente to reopen the conversation about the true values of Latinx people in Puerto Rico.
“We can use the opportunity of a mainstream event to experiment with reoccupying and reutilizing all the cultural work for our causes,” he said. “For immigration causes, for liberation, decolonization, social, racial, gender equity and struggles … especially in Puerto Rico. So all of that came together at the same time.”
Newsletter
You’re reading Latinx Files
Fidel Martinez delves into the latest stories that capture the multitudes within the American Latinx community.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.
With hundreds of thousands of tourists descending upon the island to watch the “Baile Inolvidable” singer perform, it seemed like the right time to challenge tourists to engage with some of the more difficult and harrowing experiences of Puerto Ricans.
“No seas un turista más,” or “don’t be just another tourist,” is one of the main phrases used to advertise the exhibition, which asks people to confront colonialism, gender dynamics, environmental ruin, state violence and displacement.
“If you only have a few moments to be in San Juan [for the tour], please come to the exposition and help us amplify, connect and support all the local organizations that are doing the work,” Cárdenas Sifre said. “No seas un turista más, conoce un poco de la historia real de Puerto Rico.”
Telling the “real history” of the island are over 39 artists and organizations — with special help from AgitArte curator Dey Hernández — that make up “a piece” of the whole movement that Mijente is pushing for.
“We always try to recognize that we need joy, we need perreo, we need our culture, we need our sazón, but at the same time, we keep fighting for the things that we want in our lives and in our future,” Cárdenas Sifre said. “We want to go a little bit deeper for tourists to understand that it’s generations of struggle. So you can come to the exposition and support by donating directly to an organization or artist that is presenting.”
Open from Wednesday through Sunday, the exhibition will continue showcasing its works through early October. After its opening weekend, organizers of the event are enthused by the intergenerational crowds and the litany of responses the art has elicited.
“They see their fights, they see themselves in the exhibition,” Cárdenas Sifre said. “Some people have to go outside to cry for a minute, because there hadn’t been a place that hit on all these social battles and they recognize the years of work that went behind collecting it all. There’s also joy and celebration, it’s really run the gamut of every emotion…. Everyone tells us that this space was needed.”
One thing that Cárdenas Sifre wanted to make clear is that the exhibit is not affiliated with any electoral political alliance, but rather a “real new alliance of the folks doing the work on the ground every day.”
“These organizations and artists don’t always have a space to come together to talk about the work that [they] are doing, talk about the struggles they are facing. [It’s about] generating a little space [to] conspire the next [steps for] the movement in Puerto Rico.”
Comic this Week: Drag, DACA, and Departure
Julio Salgado is a visual artist based in Long Beach. His work has been displayed at the Oakland Museum, SFMOMA, and Smithsonian American Art Museum. (@juliosalgado83)
Stories we read this week that we think you should read
Unless otherwise noted, all stories in this section are from the L.A. Times.
Immigration and the border
Politics
Arts and Entertainment
Climate
Gripping Narrative
(Jackie Rivera / For The Times; Martina Ibáñez-Baldor / Los Angeles Times)
It was 2015 when Minhyuk of K-pop powerhouse group Monsta X first appeared at the KCON mainstage in L.A. Back then, baby-faced and bleached blond, he exhibited plenty of cheeky confidence.
Clad in black and white, he sported shorts emblazoned with the phrase “knock, knock,” a nod to the group’s hard-hitting debut single “Trespass.” It was the first time the rookie, only 21, was meeting his American fans onstage at what was then known as Staples Center, now Crypto.com arena.
Only three months after their debut, the then-seven-member outfit (singer Wonho amicably departed in 2019) already had fans holding up signs for them in the crowd.
Ten years later, Minhyuk, now 31 and only slightly less baby-faced, sits in a conference room at the Mondrian Hotel, where the group has a day lined up of press activities surrounding their return to KCON LA 2025, only now as headliners on Night 2 of the three-day-long festival last weekend of all things trendy in Korean pop culture.
Clad in a neutral-toned pinstripe collared shirt, he, along with his four bandmates, could be young executives at a business casual lunch. Only their toned physiques and rapper Joohoney’s punchy yellow hair give any signal of their pop star status.
Although its the start of a long day, you can tell they are enjoying being with each other, back in the swing of things . Typically quiet, dancer-singer Shownu quipped “Invest in Bitcoin!” to a question on what he would tell his debut self, and the members sometimes chatted among themselves a bit before who deciding who would answer.
While their return to KCON marked the first U.S. appearance of the group reunited after an extended break, their Connect X concert in Seoul a few weeks ago was their first time performing as a group in two years. “I was nervous,” Minhyuk says of those first moments back. “But when I was on the stage, I felt so alive.”
Tall and dark-haired with a quiet authority, singer Hyungwon adds, “Seeing the love of our parents’ eyes in that moment … and the look in the [fan’s eyes], it’s the same feeling as from before.”
Monsta X backstage at KCON.
(Monsta X)
Last month, they also made their first appearance at Waterbomb, South Korea’s signature summer music festival, where artists and audience alike get soaked and where Shownu went viral as he tore off his white T-shirt to reveal an impressively muscular torso.
“Everybody, all the members, care about their health and body right now, he says. We always try to keep fit and healthy.”
Memes and fan-cams aside, their focus on health rings poignant as the sixth member I.M, was unable to join the group this time due to a back injury. As the band’s most fluent English speaker, the rapper, lyricist and producer’s acerbic wit helped ground the group’s sound, and his team deeply feels his absence.
Monsta X represents a vanguard of artists whose strong group dynamics strain beyond the milestone that used to be a breaking point for past K-pop groups: South Korea’s mandatory military service.
The group’s return to KCON is especially significant not only because it heralds a new era for them, but they return to the festival that helped cement their star status in the United States and abroad.
Main vocalist Kihyun, whose powerful notes help cut through the group’s aggressive signature sound, said that first KCON in 2015 was one of their best memories as they were shocked by the audiences response.
“I want to feel that same feeling we had from our first performance tomorrow,” says Hyungwon about their return to KCON. Joohoney, the group’s main rapper, jumps in. “Back then, we did a meet-and-greet, and we had a stage performance together with Got7. We saw their signs in the crowd, but then we also saw signs for us, so we were very happy,” adding that in a full-circle moment, Jackson Wang, the breakout soloist from Got7, will be performing the same night with them.
Further underscoring their continued relevancy, Maggie Kang — director of the popular film “K-pop Demon Hunters — cited Monsta X as one of the inspirations for the film’s fictional group, Saja Boys. “We could kind of tell and could see that the music style and vibe in the movie is similar to Monsta X, but we didn’t know exactly. We are very thankful,” said Joohoney.
Shaney Hwang, marketing coordinator for CJ ENM America, the Korean conglomerate that puts on KCON, remembers attending the festival as a high school student in New York, tracking the group’s rise, later catching them on tour. “Personally, as someone who has always been watching K-pop, I do feel that Monsta X, compared to other groups [who debuted] around their time, made themselves very present to the U.S. fans whether it was from live performances such as at KCON LA in 2015 and ‘16 or even through music collaborations with Western artists such as French Montana and Gallant much earlier than other groups did.”
“I always thought they had great music,” she adds. “And now, it’s really special because it’s their 10th anniversary and we feel very honored for this to be such a full-circle moment.”
It’s a moment that led Monsta X fans to make KCON this year a priority. Over dinner in Koreatown the night before their performance, Ani Ash, from Texas, and her friend Choua Yang, a 45-year-old tech trainer from Green Bay, Wis., talked about their devotion to the group.
“I’m not really a K-pop person,” confesses Ash, 28. “But what drew me to them was their style. How they can switch different genres so easily and still keep their characteristics.” Both friends met online and run fan bases for the group.
“I’ve been a Monbebe since 2021,” says Yang, referring to the group’s fandom moniker, which combines their name and the French word bébé. “My daughters introduced me to K-pop, and one of them was trying to get me to like Monsta X. I think it was their vast discography and the diversity in their music that caught my attention. They’re mature men, especially compared to the newbies who are 20 years old. I just really like them, and I started hosting the fan base.”
Ash and Yang’s devotion speaks to the staying power of Monsta X, which is still adding new fans while nurturing older ones willing to grow alongside them and spend money and devote time to see them. And until they return to touring full-time (Minhyuk says perhaps in 2026), KCON was the one of the few places devotees could see the group reunited.
That devotion, a strong feature of K-pop, runs deep. Ash, for example, was inspired by Minhyuk — who paints in his spare time — to reignite her passion for art, leaving the medical field to become a Houston public school art teacher.
The crowd roared as Hyungwon and Shownu opened Saturday night’s performance of their sensual song “Love Me a Little” with more lyrical choreography than what the team itself is best known for.
Monsta X at KCON 2025.
(Konuk Ryu)
There was even more palpable excitement as a platform rose from the 360-degree stage to reveal the five performing members back triumphantly, all clad in sharp black suits with glittering accents.
After performing “Beautiful Liar,” the darkly EDM single off of their 2023 EP “Reason” and “Who Do You Love,” Joohoney shouted, “Everyone we’re back in L.A.!” before slipping into “Play it Cool” — their club hit featuring Steve Aoki — and ending with the Dream Stage version of the classic “The Gambler” where contest-winning Monbebes performed with them. “Make some noise for I.M!” Joohoney shouted at one point.
The group will be busy upon returning to Seoul as preparations are underway for a new album called “X,” releasing Sept. 1.
While all members participated in songwriting, it will also feature production from Compton-bred producer Dem Jointz, who has composed for Rihanna, Kanye West and Janet Jackson, as well as other prominent K-pop groups of recent years like EXO and aespa.
Careful not to release spoilers, they pondered the question of what kind of movie genre the upcoming project would fit into. “Um, horror?” One of them blurts out before others begin to chime in, laughing. “Romantic comedy?” Hyungwon jokes before they finally agree that sci-fi is probably the best fit.
Reached by email from Seoul, where he is recuperating, I.M also talked about the upcoming album. “It’s special to us because it shows a side of Monsta X we haven’t tried before. From the sound to the concept, we poured our hearts and ideas into every step of the way. We gave it our all and filled it with thanks to the fans who waited for us. I hope they can feel that when they listen.”
SEOUL — When South Koreans start to obsess over a movie or TV series, they abbreviate its name, a distinction given to Netflix’s latest hit “K-pop Demon Hunters.” In media headlines and in every corner of the internet, the American-made film is now universally referred to as “Keh-deh-hun” — the first three syllables of the title when read aloud in Korean.
And audiences are already clamoring for a sequel.
The animated film follows a fictional South Korean girl group named “HUNTR/X” as its three members — Rumi, Mira and Zoey — try to deliver the world from evil through the power of song and K-pop fandom.
Since its release in June, it has become the most watched original animated film in Netflix history, with millions of views worldwide, including the U.S. and South Korea, where its soundtrack has topped the charts on local music streaming platform Melon. Fans have also cleaned out the gift shop at the National Museum of Korea, which has run out of a traditional tiger pin that resembles one of the movie’s characters.
Much of the film’s popularity in South Korea is rooted in its keenly observed details and references to Korean folklore, pop culture and even national habits — the result of having a production team filled with K-pop fans, as well as a group research trip to South Korea that co-director Maggie Kang led in order to document details as minute as the appearance of local pavement.
There are nods to traditional Korean folk painting, a Korean guide to the afterlife, the progenitors of K-pop and everyday mannerisms. In one scene, at a table in a restaurant where the three girls are eating, viewers might notice how the utensils are laid atop a napkin, an essential ritual for dining out in South Korea — alongside pouring cups of water for everyone at the table.
“The more that I watch ‘Keh-deh-hun,’ the more that I notice the details,” South Korean music critic Kim Yoon-ha told local media last month. “It managed to achieve a verisimilitude that would leave any Korean in awe.”
::
“K-pop Demon Hunters” has nods to traditional Korean folk painting, a Korean guide to the afterlife, the progenitors of K-pop and everydaymannerisms.
(Netflix)
Despite its subject matter and association with the “K-wave,” that catch-all term for any and all Korean cultural export, “K-pop Demon Hunters,” at least in the narrowest sense, doesn’t quite fit the bill.
Produced by Sony Pictures and directed by Korean Canadian Kang and Chris Appelhans — who has held creative roles on other animated films such as “Coraline” and “Fantastic Mr. Fox” — the movie is primarily in English and geared toward non-Korean audiences. But its popularity in South Korea is another sign that the boundaries of the K-wave are increasingly fluid — and that, with more and more diaspora Korean artists entering the mix, it flows in the opposite direction, too.
Those barriers have already long since broken down in music: many K-pop artists and songwriters are non-Korean or part of the Korean diaspora, reflecting the genre’s history of foreign influences such as Japanese pop or American hip-hop.
“Once a cultural creation acquires a universality, you can’t just confine it to the borders of the country of origin, which is where K-pop is today,” said Kim Il-joong, director of the content business division at the Korea Creative Content Agency, a government body whose mission is to promote South Korean content worldwide. “Despite what the name ‘K-pop’ suggests, it is really a global product.”
In “K-pop Demon Hunters,” Zoey is a rapper from Burbank. In addition, the soundtrack was written and performed by a team that includes producers, artists and choreographers associated with some of the biggest real-life K-pop groups of the past decade.
Streaming productions are increasingly flying multiple flags, too: Apple TV’s “Pachinko” or Netflix’s “XO, Kitty” are both American productions that were filmed in South Korea. But few productions have been able to inspire quite the same level of enthusiasm as “K-pop Demon Hunters,” whose charm for many South Koreans is how accurately it captures local idiosyncrasies and contemporary life.
While flying in their private jet, the three girls are shown sitting on the floor even though there is a sofa right beside them. This tendency to use sofas as little more than backrests is an endless source of humor and self-fascination among South Koreans, most of whom would agree that the centuries-old custom of sitting on the floor dies hard.
South Korean fans and media have noted that the characters correctly pronounce “ramyeon,” or Korean instant noodles. The fact that ramyeon is often conflated with Japanese ramen — which inspired the invention of the former decades ago — has long been a point of exasperation for many South Koreans and local ramyeon companies, which point to the fact that the Korean adaption has since evolved into something distinct.
It’s a small difference — the Korean version is pronounced “rah myun” — but one that it pays to get right in South Korea.
Apple TV’s “Pachinko,” with Sungkyu Kim, Eunchae Jung and Minha Kim, is an American production filmed in South Korea.
(Apple)
The girls’ cravings for ramyeon during their flight also caught the eye of Ireh, a member of the real-life South Korean girl group Purple Kiss who praised the film’s portrayals of life as a K-pop artist.
“I don’t normally eat ramyeon but whenever I go on tour, I end up eating it,” she said in a recent interview with local media. “The scene reminded me of myself.”
South Korean fans have also been delighted by a pair of animals, Derpy and Sussy, which borrow from jakhodo, a genre of traditional Korean folk painting in which tigers and magpies are depicted side by side, popularized during the Joseon Dynasty in the 19th century.
In the film, Derpy is the fluorescent tiger with goggle eyes that always appears with its sidekick, a three-eyed bird named Sussy.
“K-pop Demon Hunters” is peppered with homages to Korean artists throughout history who are seen today as the progenitors of contemporary K-pop.
(Netflix)
Though they have long since been extinct, tigers were once a feared presence on the Korean peninsula, at times coming down from the mountains to terrorize the populace. They were also revered as talismans that warded off evil spirits. But much like Derpy itself, jakhodo reimagined tigers as friendlier, oftentimes comical beings. Historians have interpreted this as the era’s political satire: the magpie, audacious in the presence of a great predator, represented the common man standing up to the nobility.
The movie is peppered with homages to Korean artists throughout history who are seen today as the progenitors of contemporary K-pop. There are apparent nods to the “Jeogori Sisters,” a three-piece outfit that was active from 1939 to 1945 and is often described as Korea’s first girl group, followed by the Kim Sisters, another three-piece that found success in the U.S., performing in Las Vegas and appearing on “The Ed Sullivan Show.”
Longtime K-pop fans might recognize the demon hunters from the 1990s as S.E.S., a pioneering girl group formed by S.M. Entertainment, the label behind present-day superstars Aespa and Red Velvet. (Bada, S.E.S.’s main vocalist, recently covered “Golden,” the film’s headline track, on YouTube.)
For a long time, South Korean audiences have often complained about outside depictions of the country as inauthentic and out of touch. Not anymore.
“Korea wasn’t just shown as an extra add-on as it has been for so long,” Kim said. “‘K-pop Demon Hunters’ did such a great job depicting Korea in a way that made it instantly recognizable to audiences here.”
Robert Wilson, a leader in avant-garde theater who collaborated with Philip Glass, David Byrne and Lady Gaga over his six-decade career, has died. He was 83.
The “Einstein on the Beach” director died Thursday at his home in Water Mill, N.Y., after a “brief but acute illness,” according to his website.
“While facing his diagnosis with clear eyes and determination, he still felt compelled to keep working and creating right up until the very end,” the statement reads. “His works for the stage, on paper, sculptures and video portraits, as well as the Watermill Center, will endure as Robert Wilson’s artistic legacy.”
Wilson was born on Oct. 4, 1941, in Waco, Texas, to a conservative Southern Baptist family. He struggled with a speech impediment and learning disabilities as a child but was aided by his ballet teacher, Byrd Hoffman.
“She heard me stutter, and she told me, ‘You should take more time to speak. You should speak slowly,’ ” he told the Observer in 2015. “She said one word over a long period of time. She said go home and try it. I did. Within six weeks, I had overcome the stuttering.”
In 1968, Wilson opened an experimental theater workshop named after his mentor: the Byrd Hoffman School of Byrds. He created the Byrd Hoffman Water Mill Foundation in 1969, under which he established the Watermill Center in 1992.
In his early 20s, Wilson moved to Brooklyn, N.Y., where he studied interior design and architecture at the Pratt Institute. Later, he joined the recreation department of Goldwater Memorial Hospital, where he brought dance to catatonic polio patients with iron lungs.
“Because the patients were largely paralyzed, the work he was doing with them was more mental than physical,” wrote his former colleague Robyn Brentano in Frieze. “With his unconventional frankness and tenderness, he drew out people’s hidden qualities.”
Wilson started teaching movement classes in Summit, N.J., while he wrote his early plays. One day in 1968, he witnessed a white police officer about to strike a deaf, mute Black boy, Raymond Andrews, while walking down the street. Wilson came to Andrews’ defense, appeared in court on his behalf and eventually adopted him. Together, Andrews and Wilson created “Deafman Glance,” a seven-hour “silent opera,” which premiered in 1970 in Iowa City, Iowa.
“The world of a deaf child opened up to us like a wordless mouth. For more than four hours, we went to inhabit this universe where, in the absence of words, of sounds, 60 people had no words except to move,” wrote French Surrealist Louis Aragon after the 1971 Paris premiere. “I never saw anything more beautiful in the world since I was born. Never, never has any play come anywhere near this one, because it is at once life awake and the life of closed eyes, the confusion between everyday life and the life of each night, reality mingles with dream, all that’s inexplicable in the life of deaf man.”
In 1973, Glass attended a showing of Wilson’s “The Life and Times of Joseph Stalin,” which ran for 12 hours from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. The two artists, united by their interest in experimenting with time and space in theater, soon teamed up to create “Einstein on the Beach,” which premiered in 1976 in Avignon, France.
“We worked first with the time — four hours — and how we were going to divide it up,” Glass told the Guardian in 2012. “I discovered that Bob thinks with a pencil and paper; everything emerged as drawings. I composed music to these, and then Bob began staging it.”
Times classical music critic Mark Swed called “Einstein” “easily the most important opera of the last half century,” even though “nothing about what composer Philip Glass and director Robert Wilson put onstage was opera.” Indeed, “Einstein” has become a cult classic despite the fact it has no Einstein, no beach and no narrative.
Wilson and Glass partnered again to create “the CIVIL warS: a tree is best measured when it is down,” which also featured music from Talking Heads frontman Byrne, for the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. The project, meant to span 12 hours, was ultimately never completed due to funding problems. In 1995, Wilson shared his concerns about arts funding in the U.S. with The Times.
“The government should assume leadership,” Wilson told Times contributor Jan Breslauer. “By giving the leadership to the private sector in a capitalistic society, we’re going to measure the value of art by how many products we can sell. We need to have a cultural policy [instead]. There has to be a balance between government and the private sector.
“One of the few things that will remain of this time is what artists are doing,” Wilson says. “They are the journal and the diary of our time.”
In addition to his stage work, Wilson created drawings, sculptures, furniture and installations, which he showed at the Paula Cooper Gallery in New York beginning in 1975. In 2004, Wilson produced a series of video portraits featuring Brad Pitt, Winona Ryder, Renée Fleming and Alan Cumming. He would return to the medium again in 2013 with Lady Gaga as his subject.
His work on the installation “Memory/Loss” earned him a Golden Lion for sculpture at the Venice Biennale in 1993.
One of Wilson’s last projects was an installation commissioned by Salone del Mobile in April Centering on Michelangelo’s Rondanini Pietà at Milan’s Castello Sforzesco, the project explored the Virgin Mary’s pain following Christ’s death with a combination of music, light and sculpture.
“I’m creating my own vision of the artist’s unfinished masterpiece, torn between a feeling of reverential awe and profound admiration,” he told Wallpaper.
Wilson is survived by Andrews; his sister, Suzanne; and his niece, Lori Lambert.
Greg Saunier already had reasons to be wary of Spotify. The founder of the acclaimed Bay Area band Deerhoof was well acquainted with the service’s meager payouts to artists and songwriters, often estimated around $3 per thousand streams. He was unnerved by the service’s splashy pivots into AI and podcasting, where right-wing, conspiracy-peddling hosts like Joe Rogan got multimillion-dollar contracts while working musicians struggled.
But Saunier hit his breaking point in June, when Spotify’s Chief Executive Daniel Ek announced that he’d led a funding round of nearly $700 million (through his personal investment firm, Prima Materia) into the European defense firm Helsing. That company, which Ek now chairs, specializes in AI software integrated into fighter aircraft like its HX-2 AI Strike Drone. “Helsing is uniquely positioned with its AI leadership to deliver these critical capabilities in all-domain defence innovation,” Ek said in a statement about the funding round.
In response, Deerhoof pulled its catalog from Spotify. “Every time someone listens to our music on Spotify, does that mean another dollar siphoned off to make all that we’ve seen in Gaza more frequent and profitable?” Saunier said, in an interview with The Times. “It didn’t take us long to decide as a band that if Daniel Ek is going harder on AI warfare, we should get off Spotify. It’s not even that big of a sacrifice in our case.”
A small band yanking its catalog won’t make much impact on Spotify’s estimated quarterly revenues of $4.8 billion. But it seemed to inspire others: several influential acts subsequently left the service, lambasting Ek for investing his personal fortune into an AI weapons firm.
Spotify did not return request for comment about Ek’s Helsing investments.
This small exodus is unlikely to sway Ek, or dislodge Spotify from dominating the record economy. But it may further sour young music fans on Spotify, as many are outraged about wars in Gaza and elsewhere.
“There must be hundreds of bands right now at least as big as ours who are thinking of leaving,” Saunier said. “I thought we’d be fools not to leave, the risk would be in staying. How can you generate good feelings between fans when musical success is intimately associated with AI drones going around the globe murdering people?”
Swedish mogul Ek, with an estimated wealth around $9 billion, may seem an unlikely new player in the global defense industry. But his interest in Helsing goes back to 2021, when Ek invested nearly $115 million from Prima Materia and joined the company’s board. [Helsing, based in Germany, says it was founded to “help protect our democratic values and open societies” and puts “ethics at the core of defense technology development.”]
With his investment, Ek joined tech moguls Jeff Bezos and Palmer Luckey in pivoting from nerdier cultural pursuits (like online bookselling and virtual reality) into defense. The Union of Musicians and Allied Workers said then that Ek’s actions “prove once again that Ek views Spotify and the wealth he has pillaged from artists merely as a means to further his own wealth.”
A range of anti-Spotify protests followed later, like a songwriters’ rally in West Hollywood in 2022 and a boycott of Spotify’s 2025 Grammy party, after Spotify cut $150 million from songwriter royalties. Neil Young and Joni Mitchell pulled their catalogs in response to Rogan spreading misinformation about COVID-19.
Yet eventually, both relented. “Apple and Amazon have started serving the same disinformation podcast features I had opposed at Spotify,” Young said in a pithy note in 2022. “I hope all you millions of Spotify users enjoy my songs! They will now all be there for you except for the full sound we created.”
Daniel Ek, founder and CEO of Spotify, in 2023.
(Noam Galai / Getty Images for Spotify)
Ek’s latest investment seems to have struck a nerve though, especially in the corners of music where Spotify slashed income to the point where artists have little to lose by leaving.
After Deerhoof’s announcement, the influential avant-garde band Xiu Xiu announced a similar move. “We are currently working to take all of our music off of garbage hole violent armageddon portal Spotify,” they wrote. “Please cancel your subscription.”
The Amsterdam electronic label Kalahari Oyster Cult had similar reasoning: “We don’t want our music contributing to or benefiting a platform led by someone backing tools of war, surveillance and violence,” they posted.
Most significantly, the Australian rock band King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard — an enormously popular group that will headline the Hollywood Bowl Aug. 10. — said last week that it would pull its dozens of albums from Spotify as well. “A PSA to those unaware: Spotify CEO Daniel Ek invests millions in AI military drone technology,” the band wrote, announcing its departure. “We just removed our music from the platform. Can we put pressure on these Dr. Evil tech bros to do better?”
“We’ve been saying ‘f— Spotify’ for years. In our circle of musicians, that’s what people say all the time for well-documented reasons,” the band’s singer Stu Mackenzie said in an interview. “I don’t consider myself an activist, but this feels like a decision staying true to ourselves. We saw other bands we admire leaving, and we realized we don’t want our music to be there right now.”
Ek’s moves with Prima Materia come as no surprise to Glenn McDonald, a former data analyst at Spotify who became well known for identifying trends in listener habits. McDonald was laid off in 2023, and has mixed feelings about the company’s priorities today. It’s both the arbiter of the record industry and a mercurial tech giant that only became profitable last year while spinning off enormous wealth for Ek.
“It’s well documented that Spotify was only a music business because that was an open niche,” McDonald said. “I’m never surprised by billionaires doing billionaire things. Google or Apple or Amazon investing in a company that did military technology wouldn’t surprise me. Spotify subscribers should feel dismayed that this is happening, but not responsibility, because all the major streamers are about the same in moral corporate terms.”
McDonald said the company’s push toward Discovery Mode — where artists accept a lower royalty rate in exchange for better placement in its algorithm — added to the sense that Spotify is antagonistic to working artists’ values. More recently, Spotify rankled progressives when it sponsored a Washington, D.C., brunch with Rogan and Ben Shapiro celebrating President Trump’s return to the White House, and raised $150,000 for Trump’s inauguration (Apple and Amazon also donated to the inauguration).
While Ek’s investments in Helsing are not directly tied to Spotify, the money does come from personal wealth built through his ownership of Spotify’s stock. Fans are right to make a moral connection between them, McDonald said.
“Ek represents Spotify publicly, and thus its commitment to music. Him putting money into an AI drone company isn’t representing that,” McDonald said. “He can do whatever he wants with his money, but he is the face of a company as controversial and culturally important as Spotify. So yeah, people want to hold him to a less neutral standard.”
For artists looking to leave the service, the actual process of getting off Spotify varies. For King Gizzard, which releases its catalog on its own record labels, it was easy to remove everything quickly. Deerhoof and Xiu Xiu needed time to clear the move with several labels and former band members who receive royalties.
Being a smaller, autonomous band enabled Saunier to act according to his values, even at the cost of some meaningful slice of income. He has considered that, by torching his band’s relationship with Spotify, Deerhoof’s music could slip from away from some fans.
“Everyone I know hates Spotify, but we’ve been conditioned to believe that there is no other option,” he said. “But underground music is filled with so many beautiful examples of a mom-and-pop business mentality. I don’t need to dominate the world, I don’t need to be Taylor Swift to be counted as a success. I don’t need a global reach, I just need to provide myself a good life.”
Yet the only artists that might genuinely sway Ek’s investments would be ones with a global reach on the caliber of Swift. She has pulled her catalog from Spotify before, in 2014 just after releasing her smash album “1989.”
“Music is art, and art is important and rare. Important, rare things are valuable. Valuable things should be paid for,” she said, before eventually returning to Spotify in 2017.
It’s hard to imagine her, or other comparable pop acts, taking a similar stand today, especially as the major labels’ fortunes are so bound up in Spotify revenues. Spotify reported a $10 billion payout to rights holders in 2024, roughly a quarter of the entire global recorded music business. Its stock has surged 120% over the last year, but in the second quarter of 2025, the firm missed earnings targets and dropped 11% this week, for the stock’s worst day in two years. “While I’m unhappy with where we are today, I remain confident in the ambitions we laid out for this business,” Ek said in an earnings call.
This recent, small exodus most likely didn’t contribute to that. But it might add to a creeping sense among young listeners that Spotify is not a morally-aligned place for fans to enjoy beloved songs.
“I actually think Spotify will eventually go the way of MySpace. It’s just a get-rich-quick scheme that will pass, become uncool, one that had its day and is probably in decline,” Saunier said. “They wrote an email to me seemingly to do face saving, which makes me think they’re more desperate than we think.”
Acts like Kneecap, Bob Vylan and others have been outspoken around the war on Gaza, at real risk to their careers — proof that young fans care deeply about these issues. While Ek would argue that Helsing helps Ukraine and Europe defend itself, others may not trust his judgment.
“Maybe it’s silly to expect cultural or moral leadership from Daniel Ek, but I don’t want it to be silly,” McDonald said. He thinks fans and artists can morally stay on Spotify, but hopes they build toward a more ethical record industry.
“It’s hard to see what ‘stay and fight’ consists of, but if everyone leaves, nothing gets better,” he said. “If we’re going to get a better music business, it’s going to come from somebody starting over from scratch without major labels, and somehow building to a point where we have enough leverage to change the power dynamic.”
King Gizzard’s Mackenzie looks forward to finding out how that might work. “I don’t expect Daniel Ek to pay attention to us, though it would be cool if he did,” Mackenzie said. “We’ve made a lot of experimental moves in music and releasing records. People who listen to our music have been conditioned to have trust and faith to go on the ride together. I feel grateful to have that trust, and this feels like an experiment to me. Let’s just go away from Spotify and see what happens.”
Compound in Long Beach is hard to pigeonhole into any category because it’s so many things at once, and at the same time, is a singular L.A. experience. The peaceful, 14,000-square-foot cultural complex’s primary focus is to promote wellness through the avenues of contemporary art, food, healing workshops, live performances and community building.
Upon entering Compound, you’ll find yourself in a serene and minimalistic sculpture garden that leads toUnion, a restaurant helmed by local Baryo chef Eugene Santiago, who cooks with seasonality, sustainability and Southeast Asian flavors in mind.The all-day restaurant caters to the different needs of the community — as a place to get coffee, cocktails, as well as lunch and dinner.
Go deeper into Compound and you’ll see artwork seamlessly blend into the complex. Currently on display until August is Southern California artist Fay Ray’s “Puerperal” exhibition, an exploration on the female identity, motherhood and the postpartum experience told through porcelain and architectural sculptures and photo collages.
One of the hallmarks of Compound’s program is its wellness workshops that include sound baths, guided meditation, drum circles, tai chi and healthy cooking demonstrations. General admission to Compound is free, and many wellness and art workshops are also free or paid through a sliding scale.
Enhance the creative experience: Check Compound’s events schedule to attend the complex’s regular open mic nights featuring poets and musicians over dinner and drinks, or take it one step further and sign up for a slot to perform.
There are multi-talents, and then there was Salvador Bagüez.
Hollywood used him as a bit actor in 1950s B-movies and classic Western television series from “Death Valley Days” to “Bonanza” to “The Cisco Kid.” Studio executives frequently hired the Mexican immigrant as a technical advisor or dialogue coach for movies set in Latin America or Spain involving stars such as Marlon Brando, Robert Mitchum and Cary Grant.
Newsletter
You’re reading the Essential California newsletter
Our reporters guide you through the most important news, features and recommendations of the day.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.
Bagüez’s baritone took him to radio programs and stage shows alongside Jose Arias, a pioneering bandleader of Mexican and Californio music. In his later years, he covered the Dodgers as a sports writer for La Opinión. But for two decades, the longtime Lincoln Heights resident made his biggest mark in Southern California life — no pun intended — as a star illustrator for The Times from the mid-1920s until about World War II.
Not a bad career for one of the first Latinos to work at this paper, amiright?
I first heard about Bagüez in 2023 from Times editorial library director Cary Schneider, who had received a query from someone trying to find out more information about “Sal Baquez.” He gave me a heads-up because one of the trillion sub-beats I have is trying to tell the stories of pioneering but forgotten Latinos at the paper. So far, I’ve profiled columnist Pepe Arciga, cartoonist Manuel M. Moreno and artist-turned-Commerce Councilmember Alex O. Perez.
Now, here’s Bagüez’s story.
Copy boy turned star
He was born in Juarez in 1904 and came to this country in 1921. Bagüez’s first jobs for The Times were as a copy boy and a singer in the paper’s monthly radio variety show on KHJ (and I thought appearing in our videos reels was intimidating). Singing classic and contemporary songs in English and Spanish, his voice was so stirring that an Aug. 12, 1926, Times story revealed that colleagues in the art department took up a collection to gift him singing lessons.
By then, Bagüez was establishing himself as an illustrator in the paper’s pages. His main beats would become sports, entertainment and the Los Angeles Times Sunday Magazine. His style varied — Pee-Chee folder-style illustrations that spanned the length of the front page of the sports section, sketches in charcoal of Hollywood stars like Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks, even Art Deco-style flights of geometric fancy. When World War II came, Bagüez drew caricatures of Hitler and Stalin and even maps of Axis advancements across Europe. He signed all of his illustrations with an umlaut over the U in his last name, a grammatical courtesy not offered to him by The Times typesetters, who went with “Baguez” in his byline.
When he wasn’t drawing, Bagüez was interpreting for Times reporters and penning Spanish-language film and music reviews. His importance to the paper was such that he was listed as one of The Times’ stars in a Dec. 3, 1928, ad in the Pasadena Post urging readers to subscribe to this paper — the only Latino staffer afforded the honor.
A 1941 illustration of author Booth Tarkington drawn by Salvador Bagüez.
(Los Angeles Times)
The last mention I could find of him as a Times employee came in the May 17, 1943, edition of “Lee’s Side o’ L.A.,” in which longtime columnist Lee Shippey mocked people who expressed sympathy for pachucos, the Mexican American men who were increasingly being assaulted by white servicemen in a series of attacks that culminated in the Zoot Suit Riots just a few weeks later. Shippey cited Bagüez and fellow Times artist Perez as Mexicans done good, writing, “Both worked up to enviable reputations because they were thoroughly good men as well as good workmen … gangsters go to jail, good citizens do well. Pick out the right examples, boys.”
I wonder if that tokenism is what La Opinión sports editor Rodolfo B. Garcia was referring to in a 1979 Bagüez appreciation when he said the artist left The Times at the height of his fame because he didn’t like how a Times editor “called his attention.”
One person who knew Bagüez well was Hall of Fame Dodgers broadcaster Jaime Jarrín. His first radio job, for KWKW in 1955, was as Bagüez’s replacement after the latter quit the station for a movie gig. The two would dine before games at Dodger Stadium — “full meals, not the hot dogs they give reporters now” — once Jarrín became the team’s Spanish-language broadcaster and Bagüez covered them for La Opiníon from 1960 to about 1970.
“I held him in high regard because he was always so calm and respectful,” Jarrín told me. “Salvador had the soul of an artist and a beautiful voice — he spoke marvelous Spanish and perfect English.”
Don Jaime remembers weekend trips to Tijuana with Bagüez and some of his Hollywood friends, legends like Anthony Quinn, Ricardo Montalban and Gilbert Roland. He also laughed during our short conversation at the fact Bagüez never referred to the Blue Crew as the Dodgers but rather “Los Esquivadores” — the literal translation of “dodgers.”
But Jarrín, as much as he hung out with Bagüez, said there was always something inscrutable about his friend: “Salvador was a very private man. Never talked about his personal life, never even talked about whether he was married.”
Bagüez died in 1979 and is buried in Calvary Cemetery in East Los Angeles alongside his mother. Garcia, the La Opinión sports editor, praised Bagüez in his remembrance as the “cleanest writer” he ever edited.
“Rest in piece, the Juarez native who triumphed in the United States as artist, reporter and announcer,” Garcia concluded. “Another of the old guard that has crossed over the path that waits for us all, late or early.”
This morning’s must read
More great reads
For your weekend
(Illustrations by Lindsey Made This; photograph by Jenny Anderson / Disney via Getty Images)
Going out
Staying in
A question for you: What’s your favorite California beach?
Diane Miller writes: “Avila Beach in San Luis Obispo, Calif.”
Jocelyn Harrison writes: “Zuma Beach!”
Robert Benowitz writes: “Corona del Mar is my favorite California Beach.”
Email us at [email protected], and your response might appear in the newsletter this week.
Have a great weekend, from the Essential California team
For the record: Yesterday’s newsletter incorrectly stated the name of a reader’s favorite California beach. Jot McDonald’s favorite beach is Asilomar Beach, not Ancillary Beach.
A gay makeup artist and content creator has shut down right-wing trolls using his photos to promote right-wing talking points.
Over the last few years, social media has seen an increase in far-right accounts spewing hateful rhetoric towards the LGBTQIA+ community, people of colour and generally anything that represents diversity or community.
While some are front-facing with their bigotry, sharing videos and creating awful podcasts, many opt to hide behind anonymous profiles filled with inflammatory statements and cringeworthy memes.
However, one thing that has become evident with extremely conservative social media users is their less-than-stellar history of researching and vetting their sources properly.
This was certainly the case for an account on TikTok, which unknowingly used a photo of openly gay makeup artist Anthony Gordon as its rugged right-wing mascot.
“Remember boys, they keep calling us ‘far-right’ when in reality we have been ‘right-so-far,’ the meme says alongside a photo of Gordon pensively staring off camera in a flannel shirt and cowboy hat.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the LA-based content creator to discover that his image was being used for right-wing purposes.
Taking to his Threads account, Gordon slammed the account that uploaded the meme, writing: “New here. Some of you will remember the idiotic far right stole an image of me to make a meme for them… What they don’t know is I’m far left gay liberal man lol. Bozos! Follow me, please.”
Since sharing his post, Gordon has received heaps of support from his followers.
“I lolled when I first saw this because I knew,” one person wrote.
Another Threads user commented: “They did the same thing to Kristofer Weston, the gay leatherman from @wattsthesafeword. Everytime they find an image of what they think they represent, it’s another gay progressive hot daddy. It’s starting to feel a little Freudian in here.”
As previously mentioned, social media has become a volatile place for LGBTQIA+ users due to the rise of far-right accounts and a lack of inclusive protections.
According to GLAAD’s 2025 Social Media Safety Index, platforms are largely “failing to mitigate harmful anti-LGBTQ hate and disinformation that violates their own policies.”
Another key finding from the report revealed that LGBTQ content is disproportionately suppressed on platforms “via removal, demonetization, and forms of shadowbanning.” At the same time, those same companies are withholding “meaningful transparency about content moderation algorithms, data protection and data privacy practices.”
In a statement, GLAAD President and CEO, Sarah Kate Ellis said: “Recent years undeniably illustrate how online hate speech and misinformation negatively influence public opinion, legislation, and the real-world safety and health of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) people.
“The landscape of social media platform accountability work has shifted dramatically since GLAAD’s first SMSI report in 2021, with new and dangerous challenges in 2025.”
To read GLAAD’s complete 2025 Social Media Safety Index, click here.
Artist Sam Cox created the alter ego Mr Doodle, but slowly the lines became blurred and everyone feared for his mental health.
06:00, 09 Jul 2025Updated 06:13, 09 Jul 2025
Artist Sam Cox created the alter ego Mr Doodle(Image: ABACUS)
As a child, artist Sam Cox would draw from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep. Through school and university, he wasn’t interested in anything but drawing. His time was increasingly spent doodling, and even on a night out, he’d sit in a corner drawing on his phone. But over time, he found himself caught in a nightmare of his own making – trapped in Doodle Land, leading to a psychotic break and being sectioned.
An intimate documentary, on Channel 4 tonight (July 9th) at 10pm, explores how Sam gradually morphed into Mr Doodle – an alter ego who ended up buying a mansion and painting it white, simply so that he could draw all over it. His mum Andrea says: “I remember my auntie saying to me, ‘It’s ok, it’s just that he’s a genius and sometimes geniuses go mad’. He was lost somewhere in some land that he no longer had control over.”
Sam doodled drawings all over his mansion(Image: ABACUS)
When Sam left university, he was given a year to see if he could make his art pay. He created Mr Doodle to draw attention to his work, dressing up as the persona and trying to sell drawings in the street for £1. Sam came to the notice of an international art dealer after a video of him doodling went viral – the money came in and he even met a woman. But it started to become unclear where Mr Doodle ended and Sam began. And then he bought the house… Sam says: “Whenever I try to talk about what happened to me, my heart starts racing.”
The Trouble With Mr Doodle is airing on Channel 4 tonight at 10pm
There’s plenty more on TV tonight – here’s the best of the rest…
SHIFTING GEARS,DISNEY+
Tim Allen (famously the voice of Buzz Lightyear and star of Home Improvement) leads the cast in this family comedy revolving around a car restoration shop. He plays Matt, the stubborn, widowed owner of the classic car workshop, whose life is upturned by the arrival of his estranged daughter and grandchildren. Riley (played by 2 Broke Girls actress Kat Dennings) drives up with her two kids in tow and asks for a place to stay in the wake of her divorce.
It all sets up for a classic odd couple format, with the father and daughter also having a couple of decades of emotional baggage to deal with. The jokes are a bit clunky and it’s hardly subtle. “When I build stuff, it’s built to last,” says Matt. “Except our relationship!” Riley replies. But it’s endearing and there’s comedy from the kids, including tween Carter who wants to improve Matt’s Instagram presence and Georgia, who wants to become a billionaire.
POISONED: KILLER IN THE POST,CHANNEL 4, 9pm
This heartbreaking documentary speaks to bereaved parents about the deaths of multiple young people who took a deadly poison being sold online. When a young man, Tom Parfett, died aged 22 in 2001 after ingesting the poison, Times journalist James Beal investigated and realised he was not the only victim. In fact, the poison was sent to hundreds of young people across the world, from the US to Canada, Germany and Australia.
This film follows what happened as James went undercover, discovering a dark world of online suicide forums. The seller has since been arrested and accused of sending over 1,200 poison packages to young people and is linked to 97 deaths in the UK. Tom’s dad David says: “Tom had a lot to look forward to. He was just a wonderful man. There’s not an hour when I don’t think about him. When I found out about this poison I was just so angry. The lives that have been lost, it’s just astonishing.”
BALLARD,PRIME VIDEO
This Bosch spin-off sees Detective Renee Ballard (Maggie Q) plunge into a web of murder and corruption as she hunts a ruthless serial killer and uncovers a sinister police conspiracy. She heads up the LAPD’s newly formed but underfunded cold case division, after being forced to step away from the homicide team. But with her own demons nipping at her heels, Ballard must outwit both criminals and colleagues to bring long-overdue justice to the victims and their families.
EASTENDERS,BBC1, 8pm
In a double bill, the Panesars are in crisis mode as Ravi and Suki try to rescue the businesses. Desperate for cash, Ravi approaches Nicola to get a drug contact and she warns him of the dangers. Angry that Felix has left her in the lurch, Cindy berates Callum for kissing Johnny, only for Lexi to overhear. Lauren looks to Peter for reassurances about Jimmy’s diagnosis. Ian suggests to Stacey that they reopen Martin’s stall. She agrees it’s a good legacy.
Warner Music Group will lay off an unspecified number of employees as part of a months-long restructuring plan to cut costs, Chief Executive Robert Kyncl said in a memo to staff Tuesday.
Kyncl said in the memo that the plan to “future-proof” the company includes reducing annual costs by roughly $300 million, with $170 million of that coming from “headcount rightsizing for agility and impact.” The additional $130 million in costs will come from administrative and real estate expenses, he said.
The cuts are the “remaining steps” of a period of significant change at the company, Kyncl said, with previous rounds of layoffs and leadership switch-ups happening in the last two years as he worked to “transform” the company.
“I know that this news is tough and unsettling, and you will have many questions. The Executive Leadership Team has spent a lot of time thinking about our future state and how to put us on the best path forward,” Kyncl said in the internal memo that was reviewed by The Times. “These decisions are not being made lightly, it will be difficult to say goodbye to talented people, and we’re committed to acting with empathy and integrity.”
It’s unclear how many employees will be laid off or what departments will see cuts, but Kyncl emphasized the company will be focused on increasing investments in its artists and repertoire department and mergers and acquisitions.
Hours before the news of layoffs, the company announced a $1.2-billion joint venture with Bain Capital to invest in music catalogs. The collaboration will add to the company’s catalog-purchasing power across both recorded music and music publishing, Kyncl said.
“In an ever-changing industry, we must continue to supercharge our capabilities in long-term artist, songwriter, and catalog development,” he wrote. “That’s why this company was created in the first place, it’s what we’ve always been best at, and it’s how we’ll differentiate ourselves in the future.”
National Public Radio journalist Felix Contreras, best known for chronicling Latino music in his podcast “Alt.Latino,” will be honored this year at the 38th annual Hispanic Heritage Awards.
The Hispanic Heritage Foundation named Contreras as a recipient of the 2025 Hispanic Heritage Award for journalism on Thursday, one of several honors bestowed on notable public figures for their accomplishments and cultural contributions to the Latino communities.
Past awardees at the Hispanic Heritage Awards include Bad Bunny, America Ferrera, Becky G, J Balvin and others; Contreras is one of the few journalists to receive the esteemed honor, one he says is hard for him to accept.
“We learn early on that [journalists] are not supposed to be the story,” explains Contreras in a phone call with The Times. “That’s the largest stumbling block as to why I’m having a difficult time accepting this accolade.”
Known among friends and colleagues as “Tío Felix,” a familial term of endearment, Contreras has been a dedicated reporter for close to 50 years. Born and raised in Sacramento, he began his journalistic career as a TV news photographer for the NBC affiliate station in Fresno until 1998, later transitioning to NBC News in Miami.
“My point has always been to tell our Latino stories through the news, good or bad,” he says.
Contreras began working for NPR in 2001 as a producer and reporter for the news arts desk. In 2010, he co-created the innovative “Alt.Latino” radio program and podcast alongside NPR’s current immigration correspondent Jasmine Garsd. It was a way to fill the dearth of coverage of alternative Latino music — Spanish-language stations gave little airtime to alternative rock groups such as Los Fabulosos Cadillacs or Café Tacvba, says Contreras. Their first guest on the show was a young, then-burgeoning artist from Colombia named Juanes, who appeared just after releasing his debut album, “Fíjate Bien.”
At first, it was an uphill battle to get artists to recognize the podcast’s cultural significance. “ We had to beg people to send us their CDs,” Contreras admits.
Now in its 15th year, “Alt.Latino” has become a go-to hub for Latin music enthusiasts looking to learn more on the rise of musica mexicana, the rumblings of Latin jazz, the transformation of Latin rock and more.
“Independent artists, alternative artists, even some pop artists now consider ‘Alt.Latino’ and NPR as a viable source to get their artist seen or heard,” Contreras says.
To this day, Contreras continues in his role as co-host of “Alt.Latino,” now alongside Tiny Desk producer Anamaria Sayre, who says she cried when she heard Contreras was being recognized.
“ Felix created space for us in the music media landscape in where there wasn’t previously,” says Sayre, who has been working with Contreras since 2023. “He did it with no one telling him that what he was doing was valuable.”
The 38th annual Hispanic Heritage Awards will take place on Sept. 4 at the Warner Theatre in Washington, D.C.
Apple Music on Monday said it’s opening a three-story studio in Culver City this summer that will have a 4,000-square-foot soundstage for live performances and fan events.
“With this new studio, we are furthering our commitment to creating a space for artists to create, connect, and share their vision,” said Rachel Newman, Apple Music’s co-head, in a statement.
The facility spans more than 15,000 square feet and includes two radio studios for live interviews and performances, a spatial audio mixing room, booths for songwriting and podcasting, and rooms to help artists create content, Apple said in a post about the studio.
The facility is located in Culver City in the Hayden Tract neighborhood. Los Angeles architect Eric Owen Moss, known for his distinctive and sculptural structures throughout Los Angeles, designed the building that houses the new studio. Apple didn’t provide an exact date for the studio’s opening.
The new space shows how Apple, headquartered in Cupertino, Calif., has been expanding its real estate footprint in Southern California as it pushes further into the entertainment industry.
The tech giant is building a new office complex on the border of Culver City and Los Angeles that is expected to house the company’s television streaming service Apple TV+.
As technology, including the frenzy around artificial intelligence, continues to reshape the way musicians and filmmakers tell stories, tech companies are emphasizing that they want to support creativity.
Last year, Apple apologized after an iPad Pro ad that showed a hydraulic press crushing musical instruments such as a piano and other creative tools before the thin device was revealed, sparked backlash. While the commercial showcased Apple’s thinnest product, some critics viewed it as a symbol of technology destroying creativity.
Apple said the new studio will serve as the anchor for a global network of creative hubs that are already open in New York, Tokyo, Berlin, Paris and Nashville. The company said it plans to open more studios soon.
Apple also announced that as part of its 10-year anniversary celebration, Apple Music Radio starting on July 1 will start counting down the service’s top 500 most-streamed songs. Apple Music is also releasing a way for its listeners to see and stream the songs they’ve played the most since they joined the service in a “Replay All Time” playlist.
Speaking with musician and producer Adrian Quesada elicits a calming effect, as if a salve has been applied to the people conversing with him. His voice moves and bounces with intrigue and interest, but never catapults itself upward in decibels.
The soothing and entrancing qualities of his disposition mirror that of his latest album, “Boleros Psicodélicos II,” a 12-track sonic field trip through Quesada’s Latin American influences — and a testament to teamwork — that dropped on Friday.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the mellow Austin-based musician prefers to kick it in the background, fancying himself more of an Izzy Stradlin than a Slash — despite having his name splashed across his imminent record.
“I always consider myself more of a producer than an artist. Being a solo artist is a very recent thing for me,” Quesada told The Times on a recent sunny day by Echo Park Lake. “It’s really raw and kind of a weird thing for me because it’s not my style to be in the forefront. I just like to make the music. I try to move in silence.”
He managed to maneuver the music industry by flying under the radar up until a few years ago by playing in large ensembles. His former band, Grupo Fantasma, had 10 members; his mid-2000s Latin-funk group Brownout was also a dectet; and his Grammy-winning group, Black Pumas, had seven (sometimes eight) members. While he obscured himself physically, his musicianship and production skill always stood out.
Grupo Fantasma’s “El Existential” won a Grammy for Latin rock or alternative album in 2011. Black Pumas were nominated in the new artist category in 2020, then received three more Grammy nods in 2021 — which included record of the year for the track “Colors” and album of the year for the group’s eponymous album. Black Pumas also nabbed two Grammy nominations in 2022 and another one in 2024.
Quesada embarked on his journey as a solo artist with “Boleros Psicodélicos” — the spiritual precursor to his latest album. It featured covers of boleros from across Latin America, as well as original material, with Quesada enlisting artists such as iLe from Calle 13, Mireya Ramos and Gaby Moreno to lend their voices to the project.
The Times called that 2022 album a “tropical mystery-thriller of a record,” imbued with a “crispy, 1960s psych-rock feel [that] … sets the scene for Latin indie’s best and brightest vocalists to truly sparkle.”
“Boleros II” finds Quesada as aurally slick as ever as he tackles the oft-covered romantic Spanish standard “Cuatro Vidas,” plus Los Pasteles Verdes’ “Hoy Que Llueve” and brand-new tracks — all while integrating his signature three-over-two rhythms.
(James Carbone / For De Los)
Born and raised in the border town of Laredo, Texas, Quesada always felt he was “at the crossroads of a crossroad.”
“It’s not quite Mexico, but it’s not quite Texas and it’s not quite the Rio Grande Valley,” Quesada said. “Laredo is completely bilingual, everybody just speaks Spanglish. I didn’t have a distinction between English and Spanish and it was a couple of different cultures together. Now with music, people seem really caught up on genres — this is in Spanish and this is in English. And none of that really fazes me.”
Like most American kids of the ’80s and ’90s, Quesada’s biggest source of musical consumption came from binge-watching MTV, with a sprinkling of recommendations from friends.
“I was home a lot by myself and I would just watch MTV, so I used to watch all the shows: ‘Yo! MTV Raps,’ ‘Headbangers Ball,’ ‘Alternative Nation’ and ‘120 Minutes,’” he said. “That was where I was discovering stuff. And then friends had an older cousin who used to make me cool tapes, and other friends would pass around hip-hop tapes.”
Quesada says he finally became curious about what a music producer does after listening to N.W.A in his teen years. He recalls sitting in front of his Casio keyboard with its pre-programmed drum machine and trying to dissect the intricacies of what producer Dr. Dre was able to craft.
Revealing the arbitrary nature of self-imposed borders — of both countries and genres — is one of Quesada’s artistic goals, opting to build bridges and not walls.
“There’s a thing called the narcissism of small differences, which means we can’t get over our differences that we have with other people that are so minuscule, we have to differentiate ourselves,” Quesada said. “And I’m starting to finally feel a responsibility for showing people nothing is that different. Latin rhythms are not that different from soul rhythms, or funk rhythms, or rock ’n’ roll. That’s probably the biggest [impact] my upbringing has on me.”
Despite his deeply Texas roots and sensibilities, Quesada’s “Boleros II” and his recent life experiences have been immensely L.A.-coded.
Quesada was nominated for original song at this year’s 97th annual Academy Awards, for writing the track “Like A Bird” with Abraham Alexander, as featured in the Colman Domingo-led film “Sing Sing.”
“I had fun with that. I was catching key things in the movie, seeing what they did visually, and what I could do musically on the song,” he said of working on the piece.
That process led to him spending more time in L.A. than anticipated. “The Oscars kind of flipped my world upside down,” he said. “I had to be here a lot between the nomination being announced and Oscars night. That was the first three months of the year.”
Carrying the L.A. momentum from the Academy Awards to “Boleros II” is the notable presence of Angelenos on the album, including Hawthorne’s perpetual sadboi Cuco, El Monte native Angélica Garcia and Carson soul singer Trish Toledo. (L.A. producer Alex Goose may not be Latino, but his intrepid hip-hop production chops blend seamlessly with Quesada’s eclectic sensibilities.)
“L.A.’s such a predominant Latino town,” said Quesada. “All the references I was showing Angelica, Trish and Cuco, they were very familiar with all that stuff. It came really natural to them. So I do think there’s something with L.A. where they get it culturally here. I leaned on a lot of L.A. artists.”
Quesada is currently touring as part of Trio Asesino, in support of Hermanos Gutiérrez on their U.S. tour. Quesada will perform songs from “Boleros II” at L.A.’s Grand Park on Aug. 2, as part of a free summer concert series by Grand Performances. (Editor’s note: De Los will be a co-presenter of Quesada’s performance.)
“‘Sing Sing’ was about rehabilitation through the arts and how it can change people’s lives, not just reaching people as a fan, but also reaching more kids who can take up art,” Quesada said of the mission of the Grand Performances series. “I believe in the power of art. Everything from a song inspiring a whole movement to a song just making you smile for the day, that’s the power of music.”
