Yes, the Oriole Bird has a mom, and just in time for Mother’s Day, she’s getting a glow up.

If you’re at Camden Yards for Sunday’s game, you’ll see it, thanks to a Maryland Institute College of Art student’s vision. Think Black-Eyed Susans, Laura Ashley aesthetics, and maybe your mom’s spring or summer style from decades ago.

The Oriole Bird first broke into the world from a seven-foot Styrofoam egg on the Memorial Stadium field before the O’s home opener in April 1979. We’ll save the complete family history for another day, but for at least the last several years, the Orioles have featured Mother Bird alongside her Mascot Hall-of-Famer child on Mother’s Day at Oriole Park.

Until now, momma bird has worn—to put it nicely—a nearly comical, mismatched outfit (floral print dress, striped purse, checkered headscarf) assembled from a thrift store. The new ‘fit looks much more curated. Paying homage to her style, it’s still dated and still has flowers, but now purposefully so.

It was designed by MICA sophomore Angel Forsyth as part of a class project and collaboration with the Orioles. The team picked Forsyth’s concept from a group of submissions organized by MICA’s Hope Simpara, who teaches garment design and production. Students compiled mood boards, drew conceptual sketches, and produced a finalized rendering.

“The goal was to give her a put-together look,” Forsyth says of Mother Bird.

Before getting the assignment, Forsyth didn’t know there was such a character. (To be fair, neither did we.) A general fine arts major pursuing an illustration minor, Forsyth says the class is their first foray into fashion design.

Forsyth brainstormed and landed on a style that mothers of sports fans in their twenties today would have seen worn by their mothers in the 1970s or ‘80s.

“Then I started thinking about styles from that time, inspired by the original dress, like Laura Ashley-style florals with poofy sleeves and sailor collars,” Forsyth says.

Simpara also mentioned to the class that the Black-Eyed Susan was the state flower of Maryland, which unlocked a core memory for Forsyth. They remember being 4 or 5 years old and walking a path bordered by wildflowers near the family’s apartment outside of Syracuse, N.Y., where Forsyth and their dad, Jeff, would bring back a fistful of the blooms for Forsyth’s mom, Kelly. Today, Forsyth and their mom even have matching tattoos that include Black-Eyed Susans.

“It just feels like a very Mother’s Day-type symbol,” Forsyth says.

From their research and mood board—which included vintage Orioles logos and merch, those Laura Ashley dresses, and the mascot itself—the concept was hatched. (Much like the “birth” of the Oriole Bird decades ago, in a costume worn by another college student, then-Morgan State senior Gregory Tull).

Forsyth added a flower-adorned Preakness-style hat, too. “I love things that are a little bit outdated, especially for a project like this,” Forsyth says. “It made sense to have something chic, but outdated. It was meant to be like fashion from a different time.”

Forsyth and Simpara took measurements of Mother Bird last week on MICA’s Baltimore campus, and dress construction came together this week as Forsyth wrapped up other finals and was part of an art showing.

On Sunday, Forsyth—who eventually wants to be an art teacher, if not write graphic novels—will be at Camden Yards with their mom. While they played softball for years and—being from New York—attended a few Yankees games as a kid, it will be their first Orioles game ever.

“I like watching baseball, but I’m also kind of just there to hang out and buy a snowcone and periodically ask who’s winning,” Forsyth says.

Not a bad way to do it. Except this time, Forsyth and others will also get to see their work on full display. Black-Eyed Susans, on a bird, on Mother’s Day. Does it get any better?

When contemplating a sequel, especially one that comes out two decades after the original, you must ask yourself the following questions:

• Is it better than the original?
• Is it even in the same league as the original?
• Does it make a good case for its own existence?
• Does it give us a chance to spend time with some characters we’ve grown attached to over the years?

Regarding The Devil Wears Prada 2, my answers are, in order: No. Also no. Not really. And yes.
The original The Devil Wears Prada, which came out in 2006 and followed the adventures of the hopelessly unstylish (at first) young journalist Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) facing off against the formidable Anna Wintour proxy, Runway magazine editor Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), has turned into one of the quintessential comfort films. It’s the kind of film you can watch over and over again—and probably recite some parts by heart. It’s aspirational in a variety of ways: A young woman finding her voice. A formidable woman softening a bit, while demonstrating why she’s so formidable. A snooty but loving guncle (everyone’s favorite heterosexual gay man, Stanley Tucci). An arch nemesis turned reluctant ally (Emily Blunt). And fashion, all that glorious fashion.

Much has happened in the ensuing 20 years. Everyone agrees that Andy’s boyfriend (Adrian Grenier, who doesn’t appear in the sequel) was a dud. Miranda Priestly’s “cerulean blue” monologue—this film’s answer to A Few Good Men’s “you can’t handle the truth”—has gone viral. Oh, and print media is, let’s just say, not the powerhouse it used to be.

As the sequel starts, Andy is an award-winning investigative journalist whose newspaper has just folded. Meanwhile, Miranda has a crisis of her own—she wrote glowingly about a fashion brand that was revealed to use sweat shops and is now the subject of memes that vilify her, depicting her with a Pinocchio nose or dressed as a fast food worker with a speech bubble that reads, “You want lies with that?” (Films notoriously have a hard time replicating meme culture.)

Somehow, Andy is hired to be a feature writer at Runway magazine in the hopes that her famous journalistic integrity will send the right message to readers.

When Andy bounds into Miranda’s office on her first day back at Runway, she’s excited to finally be on the same footing as her old boss—indeed, she assumes that it was Miranda who put in the good word for her. Instead, Miranda turns to Tucci’s Nigel and says, “Who is this?…Do I know her?” (It’s a funny, albeit lazy joke.) And just for a second, all of Andy’s poise and confidence is out of the door. Briefly, she’s that gawky college grad wearing Marshalls sweater sets.

Part of the fun of the original was witnessing Andy’s makeover, but in this film, she’s fabulous from the jump, dressed in fitted blazers, oversized sunglasses, and stiletto heels. (Nigel quips, “Oh, look what TJ Maxx dragged in,” when he first sees her, but no one’s buying it.)

As mentioned, the dud of a boyfriend is out of the picture, but they give Andy an almost insultingly perfunctory love interest, an architect played by Patrick Brammall. (If anyone can explain his overarching role in the film, other than to remind us that Andy is still a catch—duh—please let me know.)

The film’s crisis, essentially, is how can they save Runway in a world of venture capitalists who buy up publications just to cut staff, reduce coverage, or worse. If in the original film Runway was all-powerful in its influence, reputation, and glamour—now it’s just a little sad.

Justin Theroux has a funny turn as Benji Barnes, a Jeff Bezos type who is dating Blunt’s Emily. He’s depicted as a big nerd who has been given the glam treatment by his stylish new girlfriend (who can’t get enough of his money but clearly despises him).

All the leads are still in good form—both in terms of performance and appearance (they are remarkably well preserved). Streep, in particular, makes great hay of Priestly having to cut back on things—how dare they make Miranda hang up her own coat (sacré bleu!) and fly coach (the horror!).

This is clearly one of those cases where all the famous people were game to do a sequel so they built a script to make it happen. Although only two writers are credited—Aline Brosh McKenna and Lauren Weisberg—it has the distinct feel of having been written by committee. The film is competently directed by David Frankel, who also did the original, although there are a few too many shots of Andy striding quickly through New York traffic for my taste.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is a chance to hang out with our old friends and see some great clothing—and little else. For some, that will be enough.

In the same way that yarn weaves together a scarf or cozy blanket, common threads connect the community. That’s the philosophy that Natasha Ibrahim has lived by since she founded The Local Stitch as a pop-up to sell supplies and gather the knitting community for workshops in 2025.

Now, she’s letting the same sentiment guide her into her next chapter, a brick-and-mortar fiber arts shop in Fells Point.

After a year and a half of preparation, The Local Stitch opened on April 17 at 1910 Fleet Street, offering an array of yarn and other materials fiber artists can use to knit, crochet, weave, and more. In keeping with Ibrahim’s mission, the space will also serve as a homebase for her frequent community art meetups.

Ibrahim’s love for crafting was inspired by her grandmother at a young age. Starting her own small business came years later, as a reaction to weakened social ties in the post-pandemic world.

“As a society, we lost the muscle memory that is needed to bring people together,” she says. “That connectivity, seeing people in person, creating events and reasons for people to unite—that’s really important right now.”

Her community focus also extends to the shop’s shelves, which—unlike commercial craft stores—do not feature products owned by private equity. The store sources yarn from Baltimore-based companies Neighborhood Fiber Co. and Plied Yarns, along with Kelbourne Woolens from Pennsylvania, Harrisville Designs from New Hampshire, and Meridian Mill House from North Carolina. Those are just the shop’s domestic brands, though, as it also carries Icelandic yarns in store.

“As a fiber art shop, we want to be supporting other local fiber artists,” Ibrahim says. “If you’re making something in Baltimore City, I’m going to prioritize supporting you over anyone else. Because this is my home, this is my city. I care about you and I care about your success.”

In addition to outsourced brands, Ibrahim hand-dyes her own line of fibers sold in the store. A portion of sales from one of her custom-dyed red yarns is currently supporting the Amica Center for Immigrant Rights.

It’s an unsurprising fundraiser, as fiber artists have been known to use their craft as a means to rally around political causes for years. (Think: the Pussyhat Project that originated in 2016 as a way to advocate for reproductive rights in the wake of President Trump’s first election.) When the Trump administration increased the presence of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers in Minneapolis earlier this year, knitters created viral patterns on the popular online database Ravelry as handmade symbols of resistance, with proceeds donated to immigrant relief organizations.

In addition to donations to Amica, The Local Stitch is teaming up with fellow local craft club Craft & to support those in need with an upcoming “Stitch for the Feast” knit-a-thon at the Creative Alliance on May 9. Proceeds will aid Baltimore-based nonprofit Moveable Feast, which provides meals to people living with chronic illnesses.

“People who take the time to sit with themselves and make something with their own hands—I think those are actions that foster empathy,” Ibrahim says. “Fiber art is a pretense for bringing people together.”

After a long, cold, snowy winter, things at Black Ankle Vineyards in Mt. Airy were looking good. Despite the “snow-ment” that coated the region for weeks, the vines had survived. Then, a perfect storm arrived.

An unseasonably warm spring, including several consecutive days in April with temperatures in the 90s, pushed the bud-break four weeks earlier than usual. Days later, April 21-22, an unprecedented and sustained frost—with temperatures reaching the low 20s for more than six hours—decimated those tender shoots.

“The leaves look like someone took a torch to them,” says Emma Pope, communications manager for the vineyard, which lost 100 percent of its bud-break in that one night.

It’s a devastating loss that can be seen across Maryland’s wineries. Such cold temperatures over a prolonged period of time thwarted the mediation attempts typically employed with a normal late-season frost. As one of the few vineyards in Maryland that is entirely estate produced—meaning they do not purchase grapes from anywhere off the vineyard—it’s particularly hard on Black Ankle. It’s likely that the entire 2026 vintage has been lost. Even if the vines put out new shoots and fruit, it will be smaller. And, ironically, it will ripen later in the fall, when fear of frost will again be an issue.

“We’re choosing to move forward with optimism,” says Pope, adding that the vineyard will fall back on its wine reserves to honor its commitments to wine club members and tasting room visitors. “We will likely cut our wholesale—sales to local wine shops and restaurants—to keep inventory. And our hope is we won’t have to buy outside fruit.”

In a statement, the Maryland Department of Agriculture called the April 21-22 event, “One the most significant crop losses in recent memory due to a late-spring frost,” particularly for the state’s wineries.

While the blame is falling on the frost, Pope explains it was the extreme heat that was really the problem.

“What set this apart was that bud-break was so early due to the extreme warm weather—everything was in grow mode,” she explains. “Usually when we have a late-season frost you will see some loss off the early-ripening vines, but we typically won’t have seen bud-break across the entire vineyard. That was what devastated us.”

Ava Marie, meteorologist with Baltimore’s media partner, WBAL-TV, says that many plants across Maryland got caught by a “false start” to the growing season.

“Despite the colder than normal winter, spring has been running several degrees above normal, triggering earlier-than-normal plant growth,” she says, adding that, “the recent cold snap in April was extreme, even by Maryland standards. On April 21, BWI Airport measured a low of 30 degrees, while areas to the north dipped into the 20s. Looking back at the records, that’s the coldest our area has been this late in the year in 70 years.”

Marie adds that longstanding drought conditions may have amplified the frost’s impact, as dry ground heats up faster during the day but also loses heat more quickly at night.

At Baugher’s Orchards & Farms in Westminster, which is a popular destination for pick-your-own fruits throughout the growing season, the damage is still being assessed. Dottie Dunn, who manages sales and purchasing at the farm, says they’ll know more in a few weeks when fruits form, but they’ll likely have less product with the same amount of labor.

“The results for our farm are less crops to pick and sell, and less crops for our customers who like to pick their own cherries, peaches, and apples,” says Dunn. “We still have to perform the routine orchard maintenance required to keep trees in good health, even if there is not much fruit on the trees.”

Two Boots Farm in Hampstead is known for its cut flowers, but they also have a significant pawpaw orchard. Owner Elisa Lane says they are still assessing the damage, but the morning after the frost, all the pawpaw flowers appeared dead. If the crop doesn’t survive, or is smaller than usual, it will mean, conservatively, a five-figure loss to the farm’s bottom line. They also lost all their spirea, a flowering shrub sold to wholesale florists and used in bouquets sold at farmers markets.

“Everything was going great,” says Lane, “but then we had the heat wave and all the crops were at least a week ahead of where they usually are.”

In the extreme heat, staff brought out shade cloth to try to preserve tender spring flowers. A week later, the shade cloth was off and staff were putting out row covers to protect plants from the frost.

Chasing after mercurial weather has become the norm at Two Boots. “This is what scientists have told us, that this is the direction weather is going, with more unpredictability and extreme weather events,” says Lane.

With cooler nighttime temperatures predicted this weekend, staff are once again pulling out the row covers to protect tender plants.

“Early spring warm-ups are becoming more common with a warming climate,” says Marie, “which puts plants in a vulnerable position, since the frost window in Maryland still extends into May.”

This is what concerns Pope. “We can deal with one bad season—the greater concern is will we be seeing this more often as weather changes get more frequent?”

Lane says it’s fortunate that her operation, which includes early-season plant sales and a variety of seasonal flowers, is diversified. If they were exclusively a pawpaw farm, the frost would have been catastrophic.

For Maryland’s vineyards, there is little recourse but to wait on Mother Nature and see what can be recovered. For many small operations, crop insurance can be too complicated and cost-prohibitive to manage. At Baugher’s, Dunn says there isn’t insurance for a killing frost, only hail damage. And Pope explains that insurance is generally for vine death. As the vines at Black Ankle are technically still alive (just not producing), insurance would likely not help.

For those who want to help farmers in need, the advice is simple: buy local. Lane encourages locals to come out to events like this weekend’s Flower Mart and Cylburn Arboretum’s upcoming Market Day and buy whatever vendors have to sell. She also suggests joining a CSA, or buying gift cards from farms that maybe don’t have product today, but will in the future and could use the cash flow now.

Dunn says farms appreciate when customers “accept some imperfect fruit and vegetables. As nature has it, not everything grows perfectly, and if we can’t sell the imperfect, it drives up the cost of what we can sell.”

“Buy local wines,” implores Pope, adding that the support from the community in the wake of the frost has been overwhelming. “It doesn’t even need to be ours—buy Maryland wines, Virginia wines, East Coast wines in general. There is this whole ‘buy local’ movement, but it often doesn’t translate to wines because people don’t think of it as an agricultural product. But, at its core, wine is a product from a farm, from farmers.”

Sometimes you’re glad a film was made simply because it allows a great actor to be great. Such is the case for The Christophers, Steven Soderbergh’s film about the relationship between an aging art icon and a forger, starring a wonderfully game Ian McKellen as disgraced painter Julian Sklar.

Julian is a feast of a character—prideful, scabrous, witty, and performatively cruel—and McKellen leaves no crumbs. It’s hard to distinguish between Julian’s public persona—first he was an enfant terrible of the art world, then a universally acknowledged master, then a canceled “Great Man,” and finally a professional grouch—and his private one. The lines have clearly blurred.

After his cancelation, which is alluded to but never specified (although hardly shocking since Julian says and does all sorts of inappropriate things), he retreated to his home studio—a massive duplex in London filled with canvases (some empty, some half-finished, some complete), palates, books, empty clawfoot bath tubs, dress forms, lamps, tapestries, and all manner of clutter (kudos to production designer Antonia Lowe for creating this exquisitely lived in and character-revealing home). He stopped painting, instead earning a (disreputable) living by doing Cameos (slapping on a beret, dropping a bon mot or two, and saying “happy birthday” or what have you) and acting as the Simon Cowell of the art world on a reality TV competition show called Art Fight. He pretends to be disdainful of it all—the consumerism of the art world, the shallowness of reality TV, the ludicrousness of those Cameos—but clearly part of him delights in those things, too.

Julian has two adult children—Barnaby (James Corden) and Sallie (Jessica Gunning)—whom he despises. Understandably so, they’re insufferable, but it’s hard to tell which came first—his disdain or their awfulness.

It’s their idea to hire a forger named Lori (Michaela Coel) to complete a series of paintings called the “Christophers.” These were Julian’s most successful works, made when he came out of the closet and fell in love with a young man, who eventually broke his heart. The third series of the Christophers has remained unfinished. Knowing that their father is old and in poor health, the siblings concoct a plan: Lori will apply for a job as Julian’s assistant while secretly finding and completing the unfinished works; then they will be “discovered” in the attic and sold for millions upon Julian’s death.

The gimlet-eyed Lori has a relationship with both Sallie and Julian. She was a classmate of Sallie’s at art school—we find out that Sallie made one feeble attempt herself to complete the Christophers and failed (we eventually see the laughably bad work)—and knows of her mediocrity. She also has an aversion to Julian, but we don’t find out why until later. She reluctantly accepts the gig.

Making her way through the (intentionally) complicated front door of Julian’s home and up the noisy staircase, she applies for the job as assistant. Mostly, she just listens as Julian holds court—“if you’re an artist I don’t want to know about it,” he says, while getting her name wrong (he calls her Lisa) and going off on a series of tangents. Lori’s skill is stillness, for the most part. She lets him monologue and pays close attention, missing nothing. Finally, impressed (mostly with himself), he hires her. One of her tasks will be to destroy the unfinished Christophers, which gives her perfect access to the works.

One day, Julian finds an article she published in an art journal that was brutally critical of him and his latter stage work. (She calls him bloviating.) He’s deeply offended, but he gains a new respect for her, even more so when she comes clean about his children and their plan for the Christophers. “What makes you think you could do [the forgery]?” he asks pointedly. She somewhat defiantly breaks down his work—describing how the thickness of his paint and the use of light conveys his moods, his feelings about Christopher. Her insight is undeniable. Suddenly, he seems to want to impress her and maybe even know her, although she remains intentionally opaque.

And this is my biggest problem with The Christophers—which I generally liked: Lori is a cryptic character to a fault. Does she hate Julian? Does she want his approbation? Is she growing fond of him through their work? Is this all some elaborate form of revenge? And why did she choose forgery? Yes, it’s hard to make a living as an artist—she works part time at a food truck—but not all struggling artists turn to forgery. Is it merely a skill she has, or does it say something about her as a person that she has not found her own artistic voice? The film never explores this.

As an actress, the brilliant Coel is a formidable foil to McKellen. It’s fun to watch them face-off, even as I did yearn to know more about her.

Additionally, the film feels a bit ambivalent about this once great man. Julian is clearly an asshole. His cruelty toward his children is inexcusable no matter how awful they are (casting Corden was a deft, if slightly nasty, touch). And Julian’s whole schtick is cruelty—discouraging and publicly humiliating the artists who earnestly share their work with him on TV. But he is undeniably entertaining, too. And, of course, there’s a good deal of vulnerability and even self-loathing just beneath the surface. I guess we’re supposed to feel that he deserves it all—the fame, the respect, but also the infamy and the subsequent isolation.

The Christophers is a great film-club-discussion type movie. I hosted a screening of it this weekend and there were lots of disagreement over Lori’s true feelings for Julian and vice versa—had she grown to love him? Did he see her as the daughter he wished he had? And what of the art of forgery? One clever audience member suggested that Soderbergh—the anti-auteur, who calls himself a cinematic “shapeshifter”—might have genuine respect for such powers of mimesis. Is there inherent value in excellent forgery? Insights into cancel culture and the commodification of the art world are less compelling. But I must say, I had a blast with The Christophers. In the end, it’s a script worthy of McKellen’s gifts—which, in turn, makes it a gift to us all.

 

In our new Walk & Talk web series, we send a reporter and a local tastemaker to a Charm City cultural event and record their real-time reactions. 

This week, arts contributor Kerry Folan met up with Baltimore Jewelry Center director Shane Prada at The Walters Art Museum for a preview of the new exhibition Douriean Fletcher: Jewelry of the Afrofuture—a major showcase for the 39-year-old self-taught jewelry maker, whose designs for the 2018 movie Black Panther put her in the international spotlight.

On view April 18 through August 9, the exhibit explores the self-taught metalsmith’s jewelry as a powerful narrative tool in art, Black identity, and visual storytelling. As part of the opening day celebration on April 18, instructors and artists from the Baltimore Jewelry Center will lead a free workshop in which participants learn more about narrative jewelry and storytelling through art making.

A re-creation of the jeweler’s bench Douriean Fletcher used when she first began metalsmithing, back when she was in her early twenties and working at an arts nonprofit in New Orleans, sits at the start of Douriean Fletcher: Jewelry of the Afrofuture.

I am not a jewelry maker, or even generally very handy, so among the tools laid out here I recognize only the hammer. But I’m with Baltimore Jewelry Center director Shane Prada, who knows quite a lot about jewelry, and about Fletcher.

Prada names the objects I don’t know—the butane torch, the wire cutter, the cowrie shells, beads, metal sheets, rooster feathers, and wire used in the designs. There is also an old T-shirt of Fletcher’s, and the mattress she used to sleep on if she was working late.

Prada is visibly energized to see the ephemera from Fletcher’s early life, including nearby family photos, her mother’s bible, and the tiny church dress she wore as a child.

“I get very excited by shows that include objects from the artist’s life and tell a narrative,” Prada says. “The choice to put day-to-day objects in this show really grounds it in an understanding of the person who’s making the art. Like, Fletcher was raised in the Seventh Day Adventist tradition, which doesn’t believe in adorning the body. That is a really interesting thing to know about someone who grew up to be a jewelry designer.”

We’re on the ground floor of The Walters Art Museum on an unseasonably warm April afternoon to view the Douriean Fletcher exhibition before it opens to the public this weekend.

The deep purple-painted temporary exhibition gallery feels lushly cool in contrast to the hot day—a smart design choice for a show that will be on view through the dog days of a Baltimore summer. It also has the effect of making Fletcher’s large-scale gold pieces glow in the dim room. (I think of Junichiro Tanizaki’s classic essay “In Praise of Shadows,” which famously challenges the Western insistence on equating white with all things good and argues for the aesthetic superiority of the dark.)

A glimmer from a case of earrings catches Prada’s eye, and we move towards it.

“Ooh, there are some really excellent compositional choices here,” she says of a pair of big brass ear cuffs adorned with colored beads, in what look to me like abstract patches.

I ask what she likes about them. “So, they’re asymmetrical, but they’re still relatively balanced. The choice of color is quite pleasing.”

She points out the way the beads are organized in both a linear way when you zoom in (they’re lined up neatly in rows like beads on an abacus), and a more organic way when you zoom out, with the colored patches positioned incongruously on the brass plate, breaking any kind of grid.

“You can tell this is a person who has a deep knowledge, or deep natural sense, of materiality, composition, and color,” Prada says. “Jewelry is a small package, so understanding how to play with small elements of composition and color really matter.”

These earrings demonstrate the type of work the Pasadena native artist was doing when renowned costume designer Ruth E. Carter discovered her in 2015 and invited her to collaborate on the Hollywood productions Fletcher is now famous for—particularly the Black Panther movies, which imagine the fictional world of the wealthy and powerful African country Wakanda. Mannequins displaying those iconic costumes are in the next room. Prada and I head in their direction.

“This is a really cool piece,” Prada says, stopping in front of a long, pale pink cape and dress with an open-work silver bodice cage worn by Queen Ramonda in Wakanda Forever. Again, I ask her what she likes about it.

“Well, as someone who loves clothing as much as I love jewelry, I like the idea of taking this exoskeletal costume piece and elevating a garment, which is the fun thing about contemporary jewelry. It’s often very large.

“I mean, you can see the earrings that I’m wearing almost reach my shoulders,” she says gesturing to a pair of dangly oversized chain links that appear to be made out of some kind of hard plastic, “and yet it’s rarely made of fine material. It approaches sculptural art.”

As we look at the rest of the costumes—including an enormous gem-laden headdress, a copper necklace and bracelet worn by Okoye during T’Challa’s funeral, and faux jade necklaces inspired by ancient Mayan earthenware figures on display nearby—I ask Prada what she thinks makes Douriean Fletcher, the Douriean Fletcher.

After all, Fletcher is the first jewelry designer to be included in the Motion Picture Costumer Union, a sought-after collaborator by luxury department stores and brands, and one of the only living jewelry makers I can think of to get a solo show at major museums. I can name dozens of fashion designers off the top of my head, but the only jewelry lines I can think of are brands, like Cartier and Tiffany. How does a young, self-taught artist emerge to be such a star in this field?

“We don’t have many Douriean Fletchers, right? But she clearly was doing things like these editorial shoots,” Prada says, referencing a photograph from 2016 where Fletcher is modeling some of her creations. “That costs money. It also shows she’s valuing herself as a creator and as a designer. That takes a lot of believing in yourself and positioning yourself, like, ‘Yeah, I made this.’”

Later on, at the official press preview, I am able to ask Fletcher the same question.

“I think that what sets me apart is being my own model, being the person that was telling the story of the jewelry, and being very specific about what I wanted to say,” she tells me. “All my work was coming from my own personal experience. My first few pieces came from this dream I was having, and from my own personal desires. So I just put myself in the middle of my story.”

As the exhibition demonstrates, this is something Fletcher continues to do to this day.

As Prada and I round the corner to the final section of the show, which focuses on Fletcher’s current personal practice, we are confronted with several striking blown-up photographs of Fletcher posed on a dark background, wearing the gleaming gold pieces from her 2021 Messenger Collection. Prada gravitates towards a particular necklace, with what looks to me like an enormous crystal strapped with wire to a squiggly gold plate. She points out its relationship to Fletcher’s earlier pieces.

Fletcher was inspired by the jewelry of Alexander Calder and Art Smith, who were known for preferring wire wrapping to soldering or welding techniques. She was also influenced by two specific ancient Egyptian rings in The Walters’ collection (on display near the exhibition entrance), which Fletcher discovered through a Google search in 2008, back when she was just starting. Like Fletcher’s necklace, the rings use wrapped wire in their designs.

“So, in fine jewelry, your hardest stone settings will be something like a bezel or a channel—these settings that require a lot of exactitude,” explains Prada, referring to settings where the metal rims the stone, protecting it and securing it in place. “There are rules about the way that you should do them. To me, this is all so connected to a kind of cultural supremacy, this ‘right’ way of doing something. But truly, we don’t have to follow rules like that, especially when it comes to art.

“And in this case, when we encounter a simple way of capturing a stone that has not been cut and faceted in this very traditional, more Western style, the raw beauty of the stone gets to be seen and shown off.”

Prada finds this really exciting, especially for a self-taught artist looking for alternative approaches to traditional jewelry making.

“[Fletcher is] getting elevated in a place like Bergdorf Goodman with designs that she didn’t perfect through a refined goldsmithing education or years in art school,” she says. “To me, it’s like she’s announcing that it’s okay to do things your way. While we see this often in art, we see it less so in craft education, and I think there’s something really freeing in witnessing this kind of jewelry in a museum.”

We head back towards the entrance, where we left our bags and where The Walters’ ancient Egyptian rings are displayed. As we gather our things, preparing to leave, Prada stops to admire one of the rings that Fletcher found on Google all those years ago—that in so many ways brought her here to Baltimore.

An engraving of the Egyptian god Ptah in green jasper stone sits in a gold swivel ring. Wire wraps the sides of the ring shank, adding a layer of texture and interest.

“Wow—see, nowadays, we would mimic a texture like that by using a motorized tool,” Prada says, remarking on the craftsmanship and unknowingly echoing Fletcher’s own comments on the ring in the museum’s press release (which I have read, but she hasn’t).

Fletcher is quoted there describing the mark of the hand on these 2700-year-old pieces as deeply inspiring to her: “You can tell someone physically wrapped the wire—that actual hands have worked on it, as opposed to a soldering iron,” she says. “The representation of handcrafted art in museum spaces is so important.”

Prada continues, leaning in for a closer look.

“We so often think about antiquity as very boring. But, no. They were just like us, and they wanted things to be fun and interesting. We should all be looking to history for our jewelry.”

The region’s OG film festival is back for its 27th year, from April 8-12 at the Parkway Theatre and other venues in Station North. As ever, the fest includes both original and revival features, shorts, and docs, with an emphasis on local and marginalized voices. Here are three reviews to whet your appetite.

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HONEYJOON

This bittersweet comedy by Lilian T. Mehrel resists the urge to lapse into sentimentality at every turn. June (Ayden Mayeri) has traveled to a resort on the romantic Azorean Island with her mother, Lela (Amira Casar), a Persian expat living in England, to honor the one-year anniversary of her father’s death. When he was a young man, her father had traveled to the island and loved it. They have a picture of him on the shore looking pensive and handsome that they carry with them on the trip.

Lela is still grieving more explicitly—she had envisioned the trip as a time to cry and hug—whereas June wants the tenor to be more celebratory. The dynamic between the two is established quickly. Lela complains that June hasn’t unpacked yet, then urges her to cover up, her dress is too skimpy—a recurring theme.

One of the seemingly interchangeable handsome young resort workers that June flirts with takes their picture and remarks that they look like sisters. Lela smiles for the first time in a while; June’s face drops. June thinks Lela, who is obsessively following Iran’s “Women. Life. Freedom” movement and wants to tell everyone about her late husband, is a buzzkill. On a cliff, they encounter a couple on their honeymoon and take their picture. Then Lela begins unloading about her dead husband. “Don’t ruin their honeymoon!” June scolds.

June is right about this and a few other things—you can’t celebrate the brave women of the Persian uprising while simultaneously telling your (hot) daughter to cover up. Bodily autonomy is much of what they’re fighting for. But Lela is right too. The trip can’t just be fun—grieving is baked into the mix—and June can run from her grief but she can’t truly escape it.

A classic example of the film’s sly way of avoiding mawkishness: Lying in bed together—they are awkwardly stuck in one of the resort’s many honeymoon suites—Lela asks June to spoon her.

“I’m not dad,” June grumbles, but then, looking at her mother, so vulnerable, she yields. She hugs her mother from behind. As the camera pulls back, Lela farts.

The film is filled with bits of silliness like this—most work, a few feel a little cutesy (Lela has a habit of of mangling English idioms: “You were the Adam’s apple of [your father’s] eye” or “like apple, like tree.”)

The second half of the film is dominated by João (José Condessa), a chill and sneakily wise surfer dude who takes them on a tour of the island. June, of course, falls for him (and he for her). But the film is generous about acknowledging Lela’s sexuality, too. She misses her husband—she misses sex with her husband. And when one of the resort workers explicitly flirts with her, you can see she’s flattered, if not slightly tempted.

Honeyjoon is a smart, closely observed film about mothers and daughters and grief. It’s funny and sad in equal measures—just like life.

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HONEYJOON screens on April 8 at 9 p.m. and April 9 at 5 p.m. at the Parkway Theatre. Director Lilian Mehrel will be in attendance for post-screening conversations. 

BARBARA FOREVER

Before Instagram and TikTok recorded our every waking move, there was the lesbian artist Barbara Hammer. Her films and art pieces were radical acts of self-exploration and transparency. To watch her films is to know every nook and cranny of her body and mind—literally. She was experimental in many ways—as both an avant garde artist and a queer artist whose work spanned decades.

As a young woman, she married a man and, already showing signs of her rebellious spirit, joined him on a cross country motorcycle trip. They landed in an artist’s community on the west coast, where she found herself “serving coffee” to her husband’s friends. She left him.

At that point, she was already carrying around a Super 8 camera and playing with different exposures and perspectives. Later, she met a lesbian couple—she claims she had never even heard the word “lesbian” before—and realized, hey, that’s me.

From there, her work became inextricably tied to her sexual identity. She filmed the bodies of naked women, often her own, and interviewed her many lovers, even those who were reluctant to be on camera.

Barbara Forever, directed by Brydie O’Connor, is a loving, even reverential, portrait of this remarkable artist, who wanted to leave a literal legacy of herself and those she loved, as captured on film.

The film opens with Barbara, probably in her mid-50s, fit and strong, flexing naked in front of the camera. Then we cut to a different Barbara—still naked, but bald from chemo, looking frail. And soon we see Florrie R. Burke, Hammer’s longtime partner, watching clips of her lover on film, a wistful look on her face.

Then we’re back to Hammer, now vital and young and fearless. With her spiky hair and round glasses, she resembles the artist Laurie Anderson (or perhaps vice versa). She takes another motorcycle trip around the world. She goes on the NY subway and interviews strangers. She roller skates. She disrobes, again and again—talking about what it is to be an artist, a sexual being, a human.

At nearly two hours, I found Barbara Forever a bit on the indulgent side. Then again, there were thousands of hours of source material to choose from—I’m sure whittling it down was a herculean challenge. And, much like her contemporary, Andy Warhol—an obvious corollary, though he is never mentioned in the film—Hammer was not afraid to bore her audience. She wanted her work to be poetic, hypnotic, transcendent. So perhaps this slightly too-long work makes sense. It’s immersive—just as Hammer would want it to be.

At the film’s end, we see Florrie Burke standing in front of a giant installation of and by her partner, who we understand has left this mortal coil. Hammer is naked, bald, seemingly walking through a kaleidoscopic pool of water, like an aquarium. It gives off the uncanny feeling that she’s being reborn—or has somehow transcended her human form. She’s not here anymore. And yet she will always be here. Barbara Forever.

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BARBARA FOREVER screens April 11 at 5 p.m. MICA’s Fred Lazarus IV Auditorium and April 12 at 3 p.m. at the Parkway Theatre. Director Brydie O’Connor, producer Claire Edelman, and editor Matt Hixon will be in attendance for post-screening conversations.

MISPER

In the poker-faced Misper, our sad sack hero, Leonard (Samuel Blenkin), a clerk at a desiccated seaside hotel in the English countryside, does his daily rounds at a snail’s pace, methodically walking the halls as the camera patiently follows him. The hotel, called The Grand, is clearly on its last legs.

One guest compares it to The Shining. Another guest notes that the walls smell of bacon—but not, they clarify, in a good way. A new employee cheerfully calls it “a waiting room to the afterlife.” But there is, as director Harry Sherriff makes clear, a certain grandeur to its decaying beauty.

Leonard is an enervated character somewhat in the vein of Harold from Harold and Maude. On top of wandering morosely around the hotel, he sits morosely at the front desk and then spends time morosely in his spartan room. Indeed, the most avid thing he does is pine after a fellow Grand employee, Elle (Emily Carey). But even that is done somewhat tepidly.

“There’s that worried face again,” Elle says to him.

“That’s…just my face,” Leonard replies.

The film dabbles in David Lynch style surrealism—out of nowhere, Leonard stumbles upon the hotel manager, Gary (Daniel Ryan) singing karaoke to a tiny delighted audience—their smiles too wide, bordering on grotesque. (The hotel’s few guests are senior citizens, many of whom get a perverse satisfaction in complaining about its decline.)

Another member of the tiny staff seems to refuse to do work. She starts her day with a 45-minute cigarette break and sleeps in an empty room, snapping at Leonard not to bother her.

One night, Leonard gets up the nerve to ask Elle what she’s doing after work.

“Nothing,” she says expectantly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he replies.

But that’s the extent of his nerve. They stare at each other for a painfully long minute and then she leaves. The next day, Elle has disappeared. The film is about how Leonard, and the rest of the Grand staff, deal with her mysterious absence.

Leonard becomes depressed. In a scene that incapsulates the film’s dark humor, he calls a mental health hotline. “If you need help, press the star key,” a voice intones. He looks at the phone in dismay: There is no star key.

The jokes are funny, but few and far between, and we are treated to many wide shots of people sitting around in awkward silence. The film flirts with all sorts of great ideas: how inaction can lead to crippling regret and how horrible the Missing Girl Industrial Complex can be—while all of England is luridly asking, “What Happened to Elle?” real people are hurt and suffering.

I wish the film had developed those ideas even more. That said, there’s certainly enough here for to me recommend, especially if you’re a fan of the deadpan and the exceedingly droll. But I confess I wanted to give Leonard, and indeed the entire film, a shot of adrenalin.

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MISPER is set for closing night, April 12, at 7:30 p.m. at the Parkway Theatre. Director Harry Sherriff and writer/producer Laurence Tratalos will be in attendance for a post-screening conversation.

The Drama is a psychological horror film masquerading as a romcom. From the jump, something feels a little off about the “meet-cute.” At a coffee shop, Charlie (Robert Pattinson) sees Emma (Zendaya) reading a novel (The Damage by Harper Ellison, a truly excellent fake title and author). Taken with her, he does a quick google search of the book and approaches her.

“I love that book,” he says.

She ignores him. All of a sudden, he feels like all eyes in the coffee shop are on him, judging him for this hapless pick-up attempt. Time seems to freeze.

Finally, she removes her single earbud and looks at him. She explains that she’s deaf in one ear and had no idea he was even talking to her. They decide to have a do-over, a cute practice that is repeated throughout their romance. He sits back down and tries again.

Later, over dinner, he continues the ruse when she asks him for his thoughts on the ending of the novel.

“Is she dead?” Emma asks.

“Um, yeah, I think she’s dead,” Charlie says.

“And what about the mirrors?”

“Uh…the mirrors?…I think they’re, um, metaphors,” he sputters.

She stares at him, quizzically, until he finally comes clean: He hasn’t read the book. He just wanted to talk to her.

That lie, while seemingly innocent, was actually pretty dark: He wooed her under false pretenses, pretending to be something he wasn’t. Not necessarily a dealbreaker, but a red flag to be sure. What else would he lie about to get his way?

But here’s the thing: This film isn’t actually about Emma’s safety or whether or not Charlie can be trusted. It’s the opposite. You see, Charlie has told a tiny lie. Emma has been hiding a whopper.

 

IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED COME BACK AND READ THE REST OF THE REVIEW AFTER YOU’VE SEEN THE FILM!

 

Okay, so Emma and Charlie get engaged. They’re in love—and they’re happily planning their wedding. Over a tasting dinner of mushroom risotto and too much wine with Charlie’s best man, Mike (Mamoudou Athie) and his wife, Emma’s maid of honor, Rachel (Alana Haim), they play an ill-advised game of “What is the worst thing you’ve ever done?” (I can’t emphasis enough how much you should never play this game.)

They go around the table, admitting some genuinely messed up things, until they get to Emma, who is quite drunk at this point.

“I planned a school shooting,” she says.

Charlie laughs nervously.

Then, with mounting horror, everyone around the table realizes she’s serious.

“I didn’t do it, of course,” Emma says quickly. But the damage has been done.

It’s Rachel, played with exquisite haughtiness by Haim, who storms away in disgust. As far as she’s concerned, Emma is canceled. The wedding is obviously off. And a freaked out Mike essentially agrees with her.

It’s up to Charlie to navigate his conflicting emotions. In the wedding speech he was writing, he extols Emma’s unimpeachable character, but now he thinks, does he ever know her? (There’s a wonderful scene where he begins editing out words like “kindness” and “empathy” in the speech.) He can’t reconcile the woman he thinks he is marrying with a person who would plan such an evil act.

So yes, The Drama is about the impossibility of really knowing someone. And I like the idea of a romcom morphing into a kind of “hell is other people” horror film.

But something about this film really put me off. It’s reminiscent of Tár, a film I actually loved that nonetheless had one glaring flaw. As we know, most so-called “geniuses” who get away with sexual predation are men, but Tár dared to ask the question: What if it was a woman? Flipping that paradigm seemed like provocativeness for its own sake.

It’s worse with The Drama, mostly because it’s not nearly the film Tár is. The majority of school shooters are boys. More specifically, white boys. Why on earth have a movie about a Black woman who considered such violence?

The answer is simple: It’s to center Charlie’s dilemma, his pain, his confusion. I knew without even checking that the film had been written by a man, writer/director Kristopher Borgli (Dream Scenario). The film is entirely from Charlie’s perspective as he drives himself slightly mad with uncertainty.

Pattinson, who burst on the scene playing a heartthrob vampire, has spent the rest of his career trying to undo that fact. He specializes in men on the verge of a nervous breakdown—I feel like I’ve almost never seen him in a film where he doesn’t twitch and sweat—so this is right in his wheelhouse. He’s good at playing Charlie’s increased agitation. Should he go through with the wedding or not?

The ever-captivating Zendaya has the trickier part because her inner life is intentionally opaque—that’s part of the puzzle of the film. We’re supposed to at least entertain the notion that Emma could actually be psychopath, not just a woman who had a troubled adolescence who briefly lost her way.

Zendaya does the best she can with this cryptic character, but I found the whole premise of The Drama off-putting.

Yes, the otherness of our lovers is rich material to mine. But the shock value of this film overpowered its ideas. (It’s like that old fashion insult: “You’re not wearing the jacket. The jacket is wearing you.”) By embracing an outlier and taking the premise to such an extreme, the film lost its grip—both on reality and my interest.

A sellout crowd. Sunny, 75-degree weather. Orange everywhere. The Oriole Bird bouncing around the seats.

Orioles season is so back, and courtesy of $135 million in public funds from the state, Oriole Park at Camden Yards has gotten some serious upgrades since the end of last season. Fans will notice the new amenities—look no further than the state-of-the-art scoreboard (more on that later)—but rest assured, the ballpark hasn’t lost its charm and character.

Of course, the roster got a refresh, too, with additions like veteran slugging first baseman Pete Alonso, who joins an O’s homegrown core intent on returning to the playoffs under first-year manager Craig Albernaz. 

On Thursday, with Orioles starting pitcher Trevor Rogers allowing only three hits over seven innings and new closer Ryan Helsey getting his first save, all the O’s needed from their offense to win was an RBI sacrifice fly from Colton Cowser and an RBI single from Blaze Alexander. 

After taking in the season opener from the field—as well as from the stands, Splash Zone, and the newly relocated Jim Henneman Press Box—we compiled five of our favorite new things at Camden Yards.

New Faces (and Walk-Up Songs) 
Upon signing a five-year, $155 million contract with the Orioles this winter—just the type of move fans have been longing for under Baltimore native David Rubenstein’s ownership—Alonso spent several weeks searching for a new walk-up song that would play before his at-bats at Camden Yards. 

In front of 42,134 fans on Thursday afternoon, we found out what he landed on—and it’s perfect.

Alonso walked to home plate to the crescendo of “Birds” by Baltimore’s own Grammy-award winning hardcore punk band, Turnstile. “It is perfect,” Alonso told us in the clubhouse after the game. 

Here’s how it came together: Alonso knows Turnstile guitarist Pat McCrory through mutual friends, and they met in December in Baltimore when Alonso visited town to take his physical and complete the O’s free-agent signing of him. An easygoing conversation in February, recorded by the O’s, hatched the idea to use “Birds.” 

“Turnstile is sick. They’re a great band,” Alonso said. “I know they’re a Baltimore band. Them winning a Grammy is big-time. I’m happy to represent.” 

The standing ovation that fans gave him before his first at-bat, as “Birds” played, was a “dream come true,” he said. “It’s such a blessing and I’m happy we got the win for them today. He added, “It felt like a movie today. There’s a lot of excitement with this group of guys and this team. You could really feel that from the fans. It was electric today.”

The good vibes didn’t quite carry into the batter’s box, though. At least not yet. 

Alonso struck out in his first two career Orioles plate appearances against Minnesota Twins starter Joe Ryan (and later flew out to the warning track in the eighth inning). But, hey, it’s early. The 31-year-old, who left the New York Mets, has a strong track record that suggests the hits will ramp up soon enough. 

The Scoreboard
Undeniably, the most noticeable difference at Camden Yards this season is the giant videoboard in center field. It’s two-and-a-half times larger than the previous scoreboard, which was the smallest in pro baseball. And it was dated. Even the eagle-ist of eyes could have trouble seeing the correct score in years past, especially during the day. But no problem anymore. 

Built by Daktronics, the board is now the 12th-largest in MLB, allowing fans at the park to easily view everything those at home might see on television, including the new ball-and-strikes challenge system. Plus it’s easier to see in-person exclusives, like a reimagined crab shuffle. (In related news, ICYMI, relish took the first live hot-dog race win of the year.) 

“The goal here wasn’t to go crazy or try to have the biggest in the country,” Orioles president of business operations Catie Griggs said of the scoreboard. “That’s not what Camden Yards is. We feel this is right sized for our ballpark.”  

Which still means big. For scale, it’s the equivalent size of 800 55-inch TVs. 

The Other Side of the Scoreboard
A giant image of a uniformed Gunnar Henderson at bat, part of a new multi-year sponsorship deal between the Orioles and Under Armour, now greets fans coming in off Gate H on Eutaw Street, with the tagline, “This is our yard.”  

Henderson saw it for the first time on Tuesday. “Pretty cool,” he said when we asked him about the signage, thanking both the Orioles and Under Armour. But is he comfortable with his sizeable stature—both real and symbolic—over the team (and fans) out in centerfield?

“Yeah,” he said, as if there was no question. “It’s really special.”

Now, for the next thing. A long-term contract between Henderson and the O’s…

A Lot of New TVs, and a Brand-New Sound System
No more squinting at the screens on the concourse for a peek of the action while you’re grabbing a dog or refilling your beer. There are now 600 modern TVs around the ballpark, programmable with on-demand video and other information (like what items are sold-out at concessions).  

And you can hear everything now, too. The stadium’s long-beleaguered sound system has finally been fully revamped with 900 new speakers. The radio broadcast piped in through the system—for example, on Thursday, the play-by-play voice of Brett Hollander—provides a great atmosphere while out of your seat. 

Something for Everyone, from Premium Club Access to Budget-Friendly Bites
Visuals and audio aside, many of the stadium upgrades appeal to higher-income clientele, most notably, the Truist Club. Replacing the old press box behind home plate, the ballpark’s first-ever premium club seats around 350 in an upscale restaurant-style setting. The price tag is around $15,000 for 40 games, according to O’s officials, which works out to around $375 per ticket. 

“We do want this to be a ballpark for everyone, we recognize there are people for whom this is the experience they wanted, and we weren’t able to offer it,” said Griggs, noting that Camden Yards was one of two MLB stadiums without a premium club previously. 

The club/suites level also got a refresh, most significantly with a pair of large bars overlooking the field at the end of the first and third baselines.

Throughout the stadium, new food items on deck include crab smash tacos; Yakamein (stir-fried udon noodles with grilled shrimp, onions, and hot dog slices in a soy sauce gravy); and a Japanese cheesesteak from Washington, D.C.-based chef Katsuya Fukushima, featuring a sweet soy broth and fresh toasted roll. (Highly recommend.) 

Thankfully, last season’s fan-favorite value menu is back, as well. Simple food and drink items (like the humble hot dog, peanuts, refillable soda cup, and 12-ounce domestic beer) are available for under $5. And many eats from local restaurants have returned for another year, as well, like Ekiben, Attman’s Deli, Stuggy’s, and, of course, Boog’s BBQ. 

A New Favorite Pre-Game Personality
We must mention one more favorite of the day—109-year-old Baltimorean Arthur Green, who tossed a ceremonial first pitch to a raucous ovation. Yes, 109. I chatted with him briefly before the game. He laughed with affirmation when I said he’s seen a lot of what’s happened in Baltimore.  

Green, a World War II and Korean War veteran, then ditched his walker to stroll onto the grass and effort a pitch toward Henderson at home plate. He was then greeted with more ovation by fans as he took his seat down the left field line. 

Yes, people, Birdland bliss is back at a refreshed Camden Yards. 

“The crowd was awesome,” Albernaz said after his first win as O’s manager, which really culminated afterward when players put him in a clubhouse cart and showered him with beer and soap. “The whole place was electric today. There was no down in the game. The whole day was awesome.” 

Once news hit that Herman’s Bakery would be closing its doors on March 31 after a 103-year run—due to its owners wanting to slow down and prioritize their health—customers formed lines out the door to stock up on their favorite fudge-topped cookies, strawberry shortcake, and German chocolate cake.

It’s no wonder why. Herman’s has been revered by Baltimore for generations. But for me, it’s a family legacy—all credited to the perseverance of a quiet but ambitious immigrant who found success despite minimal education.

The history of Herman’s begins with Harry’s Bakery in East Baltimore. It’s namesake, Harry Francis Herman, who we called “Grandpop,” was born in Russia in 1886 of Polish decent. He came to the United States “on the boat” when he was six years old, likely due to extenuating family circumstances. He was sent to Baltimore by his biological parents to live with a family he didn’t know.

His Polish name was Waclaw Grzeskowiak, and it’s still something of a family mystery as to why he changed it to Harry F. Herman. Grandpop’s naturalization papers were certified in 1918. He was described as “a short (5’5”) 32-year-old.” His indoctrination to the United States required him to denounce Czar Nicholas II of Russia.

In 1923, Grandpop opened Harry’s Bakery in a converted rowhouse on the corner of Fleet Street and Montford Avenue, on the fringe of Highlandtown and just a block south of Patterson Park. His family was growing, and he had to provide for them. He had apprenticed as a baker and knew the local clientele, so opening a bakery was an obvious choice.

It was a neighborhood where transplants from Poland, Lithuania, and Ukraine settled and united as a community. They loved Grandpop’s baked goods and fresh bread. Grandmoms in their babushkas would be greeted by my Aunt Dene with “Good Morning” or “Good Afternoon, Panie,” which means lady in Polish.

The year he achieved citizenship, Grandpop and his wife, Mary (age 28), already had four children. (Another was yet to be born). The youngest at the time was their son (my uncle), Harry James Herman, who was only three months old, but would ultimately become the heir apparent to the family business.

After working for his father for several years, my uncle realized that Dundalk was booming. It was the late ’50s, when big employers like Bethlehem Steel attracted a melting pot reminiscent of the East Baltimore neighborhood that had enabled Harry’s Bakery to thrive. In 1958, with his wife Sophia right by his side, Uncle Harry made the bold move to open Herman’s Bakery in Dundalk, ironically 40 years after his father became a U.S. citizen. Grandpop’s store, Harry’s, continued operating until 2003.

The façade of the new bakery on Holabird Avenue—with the business name spelled in block letters under retro-styled arches—became a local landmark. It started the expansion and contraction of the business, which at one time had locations in Baltimore-area malls including Golden Ring, Kenilworth, White Marsh, Hunt Valley, and Eastpoint. Compared to Harry’s little rowhouse cubical, which the family had to expand by taking out the first floor living room, the Dundalk store was huge. People came and went with regularity, and there rarely was a lull.

Uncle Harry’s children—Cassandra, Harry Jr., and Harriet—were a tad young to work in the bakery when it first opened, but that changed soon enough. Cassandra and Harry became fixtures, especially in the business’ heyday with its six locations. Eventually, so did their children, and their children. Four generations benefitted from the family affair. Customers were more like friends, and Herman’s products were in high demand for weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries.

Cassandra and Harry Jr. continued an active presence in recent years. But Cassandra’s daughter, Adrienne Porcella, has become the chief baker and “keeper of the formulas”—a term she uses to describe the time-honored recipes, some of which have been inspired by Old World techniques Uncle Harry picked up while in Europe.

I have many happy Herman family memories, including gathering around my grandparents’ kitchen every Saturday night for crabs and beer, and packaging fresh-baked cookies at Christmas time.

Through it all, Herman’s Bakery has been the thread that tied us together. But there would never have been a Herman’s without the vision of that young Polish immigrant Waclaw Grzeskowiak.

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Mary Jo Tarallo was Ski Editor for the Evening Sun during the 80s, and she worked for the ski industry for almost 30 years after leaving the paper. She also worked for several nonprofits in the Baltimore area including United Way of Central Maryland, where she won a Gold Award for a campaign television show that starred Oprah Winfrey and Richard Sher.

With their new restaurant on the corner of 36th Street and Elm Avenue in Hampden, Ben, Amy, and Jake Lefenfeld have headed east of their beloved Basque region to the Italian coast.

Starting on April 2, Seppia will be open for daily dinner service. The new 250-seat restaurant has been several years in the making and is one of the most eagerly anticipated openings of the year, especially since a January fire temporarily closed the Lefenfeld’s Basque-based La Cuchara in Hampden-Woodberry.

Seppia (pronounced sep-e-a), named for the cuttlefish commonly found in the Mediterranean Sea, is set inside the G.C. Murphy Five and Dime building. The historic 1901 structure was at one time a stable and last home to the Five & Dime Ale House.

“We decided to purchase the building after looking at it,” says Ben. “We love the neighborhood and have been right down the street for 11 years now at La Cuchara. We thought it was a great opportunity to expand and put down very long-term roots within the community.”

With the help of Charles Patterson, director of design at SM+P Architects, the space underwent a full renovation that included moving the staircase, demolishing a portion of the second floor to create a 50-foot high ceiling, and refurbishing an old elevator that will now serve as a dumbwaiter to ferry various items from the restaurant’s basement kitchen and a wine cave, which will double as a private dining space.

An original terra cotta wall has been restored and is now showcased behind the bar. And the restaurant’s interior is all aglow with its sea green, gold, and caramel color palette, plus warm chestnut wood and brass finishes.

The driving force for a second spot, says Ben, was to provide new opportunities for their team.

“We were losing talent, because they were outgrowing us,” says the chef. “We needed a place to allow for people to rise up in the company.”

“Pasta is something special—it’s not the kind of thing you bring home and reheat. It’s in the moment of the technique and the freshness of it—there’s something a little mystical about that.”

The bulk of the menu will focus predominantly on pasta, both hand-rolled and extruded.

“I’ve always loved Italian food and fresh pasta,” says Ben. “Pasta is something special—it’s not the kind of thing you bring home and reheat. It’s in the moment of the technique and the freshness of it—there’s something a little mystical about that.”

To that end, Ben is currently hard at work in the kitchen refining his recipes for crispy artichoke lasagna with spinach, béchamel, and sugo di Pomodoro; ruffled-edge mafaldine with squid ink; and casarecce pasta (short noodles with curled edges) with venison ragù.

Seafood dishes also abound, including acciughe al verde (that’s Spanish-cured anchovies soaked in a green sauce of lemon, toasted garlic, olive oil, and parsley); frito misto (a variety of fried shellfish including cuttlefish, calamari, shrimp, and zucchini); and tuna crudo with chile crunch, fermented chiles, and tangerines.

A clever Buffalo milk ricotta “palette” starter is a canvas for a variety of accompaniments such as pistachio pesto, confit tomato, roasted garlic, and roasted shallots.

For the chef, culinary inspiration comes from research, experimentation, and especially travel. In 2024 and 2025, Ben and his wife, Amy, taste-tested their way all over the Boot Country.

“We started in Venice, we went to Abruzzo all along the Amalfi coast, stopped in Genoa and Vernona,” he says. “We went to Bologna. So many of the ideas for this menu came from the Ligurian coast.”

The menu will also change with the seasons. “We’ll be focusing on dishes and inspirations from Northern Italy in the wintertime and going to the south in the summertime,” says Ben, “but we want to utilize the best ingredients possible, so we’re going to see where that takes us from the starting point that we have right now.”

Ben sees the cuttlefish as an apt symbol for Seppia. “It just evokes a feeling of freshness, of salinity, of the ocean. It defines what we are going after.”

The cocktail program will be equally innovative with some 330 wines, predominantly from Italy but also other Mediterranean countries including Spain, France, Portugal, and Croatia. (On Sundays, wines $100 or more will be half-priced, with featured wines 25 percent off Monday through Thursday.) A quintet of martinis, from dirty to dry, will round out the beverage side of the menu.

The restaurant is named after the cuttlefish—a cross between a squid and octopus hybrid—because of Ben’s fascination with the mystical marine animal.

“I’ve been snorkeling before in the Caribbean and seen them,” he says. “They change color so they can camouflage with the rocks and if you’re swimming with them, all the other fish will be swaying with the waves and moving with the current, but the cuttlefish stays in one spot. It’s extremely intelligent and has a vision spectral color range, that is more than any other species on Earth.”

Ben sees the cuttlefish as an apt symbol for Seppia. “It just evokes a feeling of freshness, of salinity, of the ocean. It defines what we are going after,” he says.

After the opening, Ben is looking forward to getting back to the kitchen at La Cuchara, as well, though there’s no timeline just yet for reopening.

“We’ve been cleared by the powers that be to start rebuilding,” he says. “We’ve cleaned up all the fire debris except for the hood [where the fire is believed to have started] that the insurance company wants to take another look at. And then we are waiting on quotes to put a new duct run in for the wood grill. Once we have that quote and get an okay from the landlord to do it, we’ll have a much better timeline in terms of reopening.”

A mere two weeks ago, the Oscars for Best Actor and Best Actress were veritable locks.

Jessie Buckley was going to win for her earthy and primal depiction of Agnes Shakespeare in Hamnet and Timothée Chalamet was assured a win for playing a live-wire ping pong hustler in Marty Supreme.

But it seems that being the frontrunner, with its attendant extreme scrutiny, is not the safest place these days.

In the past two weeks, Buckley’s The Bride opened to decidedly mixed reviews, with many critics calling her performance over-the-top and even a bit “cringe.” (I’ll believe it when I see it. She’s never given a bad performance in my estimation.)

Then, to add insult to injury, an interview with her resurfaced where she said that she forced her then boyfriend (now husband) to choose between her and his vindictive cat. (He chose her, smart man.) “I’m going to get canceled,” she said, prophetically. The claws came out, if you will. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off cat lover.

And then there’s Timmy. When Michael B. Jordan won Best Actor at “The Actor” (the annoying new name for the Screen Actors Guild award), a palpable sense of joy, even relief, filled the theater. The talented Jordan is universally beloved, an unproblematic king, as the kids say. Meanwhile, Chalamet has raised hackles by dating a Jenner and campaigning rather brazenly for the Oscar. Still, his work was undeniable in Marty Supreme. And for a while there, it did seem like the Oscar was his for the taking.

Then, in a conversation with Matthew McConaughey for Variety magazine, he said that ballet and opera are art forms “no one cares about” and that he much preferred to work in the medium of film.

Here’s my theory: The disappointment over his dating a Jenner and the disappointment over his remarks about these classical art forms are variations of the same thing. We want to see Chalamet as a sensitive artist, a Byronic poet, a deep thinker. We basically want him to be Elio in Call Me By Your Name.

Dating one of the world’s biggest influencers, a woman with 390 million Instagram followers, doesn’t quite jibe with that persona. The crack about no one caring about opera or ballet has a similar effect. Wait, isn’t Chalamet supposed to be the kind of soulful man who cries at the opera? (Elio would!)

I feel like people feel personally betrayed by Chalamet. But honestly, folks, he’s just a dude—and an undeniable product of the 21st century. He loves sports, hot women, video games, hip-hop and, yeah, he also happens to be a great actor. His off-hand joke about opera should not have set off an international crisis. But that’s what it did.

And the backlash to the remarks has had surprising legs—primarily because dance and opera performers and companies are seizing the moment to promote themselves. (Cleverly, the Seattle Opera offered a 14 percent discount to their production of Carmen with the code TIMOTHEE.)

Is this backlash enough to lose Chalamet and Buckley their Oscars? Well, it’s time to roll out my predictions of select categories.

BEST PICTURE
Who will win: One Battle After Another
Who might win: Sinners
Who should win: One Battle After Another
Anyone else have a shot? Hamnet has a very slim chance
Final thoughts: One Battle After Another and Sinners were my two favorite films of the year, so I’m good either way. Sinners is riding high on momentum after winning the Screen Actors Guild Award—ugh, I mean, “The Actor”—but it’s a genre film and those rarely take home the big prize.

Of course, it’s a sneaky genre film, a film about cultural vampirism masquerading as one about actual vampires, but still. In the end, I think the political urgency of One Battle After Another, coupled with the fact that people really like it (it’s great!), gives it the slight edge.

BEST ACTOR
Who will win: Michael B. Jordan
Who could win: Timothee Chalamet (It’s a very close race!)
Who should win: Wagner Moura, The Secret Agent
Anyone else have a shot? Nah, it’s a two-man race unless Jordan and Chalamet cancel each other out, in which case I suppose Moura could slip in.
Final thoughts: Love me some Chalamet, but he has been VERY overexposed this year. Meanwhile, Jordan has kept his head down, done great work, and looked incredibly dashing while doing so. I think that The Actor win gave voters permission to choose Jordan.

BEST ACTRESS
Who will win: Jessie Buckley
Who could win: Rose Byrne, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You
Who should win: Buckley
Anyone else have a shot? Not really.
Final thoughts: I think Buckley was such a frontrunner her recent stumbles haven’t hurt her. Plus, lots of people secretly hate cats. (I kid, I kid…)

BEST DIRECTOR
Who will win: Paul Thomas Anderson
Who could win: Ryan Coogler
Who should win: PTA
Anyone else have a shot? Nope
Final thoughts: Much of Oscar night will basically come down to Sinners vs. One Battle After Another and Best Director is no different. Both these men are generational talents. It’s just that Paul Thomas Anderson is 55 and has never won an Oscar. Meanwhile, Coogler is 39 and, presumably, has many gold guys in his future.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Who will win: Sean Penn, One Battle After Another
Who could win: Stellan Skarsgård, Sentimental Value
Who should win: The great Skarsgård gave the performance of a lifetime in Sentimental Value.
Anyone else have a shot? Honestly? Literally anyone but Jacob Elordi could win. I particularly think the beloved Delroy Lindo could ride the Sinners momentum all the way to gold. And Benicio del Toro almost stole the show in One Battle After Another with his particular brand of insouciant cool.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Who will win: Amy Madigan, Weapons
Who could win: Wunmi Mosaku, Sinners
Who should win: Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas, Sentimental Value
Anyone else have a shot? Teyana Taylor from One Battle After Another, for sure. It’s almost a three-woman race.
Final thoughts: I almost can’t believe that Madigan is the frontrunner. Like I said, the Academy hates genre films. But she’s a beloved longtime actress and gave a hilariously iconic performance in Weapons that will be imitated by drag queens for decades to come. And running onto the stage, arms outstretched, a la the zombified children in Weapons, when she won The Actor just might have sealed her the win.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Who will win: Sinners
Who might win: Sentimental Value
Who should win: Sinners
Anyone else have a shot? I doubt it. This is Sinners’ lock of the night.
Final thoughts: In every sense of the phrase, Ryan Coogler can’t miss.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Who will win: One Battle After Another
Who might win: Hamnet
Who should win: One Battle After Another
Anyone else have a shot? I don’t think so!
Final thoughts: Sorry, this is getting boring. But One Battle After Another and Sinners are going to be trading wins all night.

A FEW MORE PREDICTIONS:
Best Cinematography: Sinners
Best Casting (new category!): Sinners
Best Editing: One Battle After Another
Best Makeup and Hairstyling: Frankenstein (huzzah, not Sinners or One Battle After Another)
Best Production Design: Frankenstein
Best Score: Sinners
Best Song: “Golden,” KPop Demon Hunters
Best Animated Feature: KPop Demon Hunters
Best Documentary Feature: The Perfect Neighbor
Best International Film: Sentimental Value

It’s officially time to break out your gold and green. Home to our deep-rooted Irish community—plus traditional pubs, live music venues, bar districts, and the first of only two Guinness breweries in the United States—Baltimore is as magical of a place to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day as any.

Whether you’re in the mood for a pint of beer, traditional Irish eats and treats, a live Celtic rock show, or family-friendly activities, the (Lucky) Charm City scene has something for everyone. 

Bar Blarney 

3/1-17: 17 Days of St. Patrick’s Sláinte Irish Pub
Per tradition, the Fells Point watering hole counts down to the big day (where it opens bright and early at 6 a.m. for an all-out party) with daily specials, tastings, trivia nights, movie nights, live music, and more fun. Keep up with happenings on Slainte’s social channels. 1700 Thames St.

3/7-8, 14-15, 17: The Irish Village at Guinness Open Gate Brewery 
What’s better than drinking a pint of Guinness? Sipping one straight from the source. Naturally, March at Guinness in Halethorpe means two full weekends of jam-packed programming. Grab a pint and stake out a spot on the front lawn for live music, Irish food stalls, vendors, and activities.

For those looking to level up their beer IQ, ticketed events include guided tastings, food and beer pairings, pint-pouring lessons, and a history session inside The Hidden Harp—a tiny countryside pub set up on the property. Of course, the village will be in full swing on March 17, as well. 5001 Washington Blvd, Halethorpe

3/14: Tenth Annual St. Paddy’s Day Block Party at Delia Foley’s
Delia Foley’s shuts down the block with its annual St. Patrick’s Day fest on South Charles Street in Federal Hill, which is celebrating its 10-year anniversary this March. Take advantage of four bars, Crush stations, food specials, corn hole, giveaways, and live music—both in the tents outside and upstairs on the second floor. 1439 S Charles St. $10 cash cover

3/14: Fed Hill Irish Stroll 
Who needs a green river when you can dive headfirst into a sea of green-clad revelers in Federal Hill? Perhaps the rowdiest area in town on St. Paddy’s weekend will once again host this self-guided stroll around the bars surrounding Cross Street Market.

Drink specials on deck this year are $4 Ultras, $5.00 Nutrls (lime, of course), and $6 Surfsides at all of the go-to bars, including The Perch, Crossbar, and One Star. (If you’re a fan of Wayward and Liv’s Tavern, check out a separate wristband deal, here.) Check in at 1113 S. Charles St. $16.65

3/14: St. Patrick’s Weekend at Pooles
If your St. Paddy’s plans call for craft beer over chaos, head to Pooles Island Brewing Company. The Middle River taproom is rolling out a fresh Irish stout, festive cocktails, live music, and enough boozy slushies to make you temporarily forget it’s still technically March. Pooles Island Brewing Company, 11695 Crossroads Circle, Middle River. 12-10 p.m.

3/17: St. Patrick’s Celebrations at Looney’s Pub
The homegrown pub chain operates four different venues in Maple Lawn, Perry Hall, Bel Air, and College Park, which are all gearing up for their own bar bashes complete with live music and specials. In Perry Hall, for example, patrons can order off of the Lucky Libations (Irish coffees and Leprechaun Crushes) menu leading up to the big day—which will kick off with a bacon and beer breakfast at 6 a.m. Multiple locations including 8706 Belair Rd. 

3/17: Shamrocked & Shenanigans St. Patrick’s Day at The Point
Clear your schedule for March 17—and maybe plan for a slow morning on the 18th—and head to The Point in Fells to party from dawn to dusk. Expect high-energy music and flowing pints against the backdrop of unbeatable waterfront views. The Point in Fells, 1738 Thames Street, 10 a.m.

Emerald Eats

3/10-17: Kelsy’s Restaurant
Get your shamrock on at this Ellicott City stalwart, which highlights daily events for the entire week leading up to St. Pat’s. A special family day on March 15 will offer balloon art and live music. On March 16, raise an early toast to St. Patrick’s Day on Irish time (7 p.m.) to get little ones (and yourselves) home at a reasonable hour. On the actual day, the pub will open at 8 a.m. for kegs and eggs, followed by bag pipers and a lineup of live bands. 8480 Baltimore National Pike.

3/15: Mick O’Shea’s Irish Pub
On parade day, Mt. Vernon’s beloved neighborhood haunt opens all of its doors and windows, fires up its grill, and pours countless pints as the floats and marching bands pass by on North Charles Street. Stop by to enjoy classics like corned beef and cabbage, Shepherd’s pie, fish and chips, and beef stew. 328 N Charles St.

3/17: James Joyce Irish Pub
There’s no better time to pay a visit to this hallowed Harbor East pub, which will host a full rager on the big day. Fuel up with classics like bangers and mash and Guinness stew while you stomp your feet to the Richard Osban Group, Eagan & Hearn, the Baltimore City Pipe Band, and more. Keep your eyes peeled for Irish dance performances throughout the day from Teelin Irish Dance and the Loyola Maryland Irish Dance Team. 616 President St. 10 a.m.

Looking for a more classic Irish pub experience? Check out even more spots to hit, here.

Family-Friendly Fun

3/7: Irish Music Festival
The Baltimore County Department of Recreation & Parks is hosting this jam fest headlined by local Irish party band The ShamRogues. Bring the whole family to enjoy vendors, food trucks, and themed activities. 13401 Beaver Dam Road. 1-6 p.m. Free-$20

3/15: St. Patrick’s Day Parade
At Baltimore’s 64th-annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, thousands of spectators from the region will crowd the downtown streets and sidewalks to celebrate Irish culture, music, songs, and dance. The parade step off from the Washington Monument, proceeds south on Charles Street, and continues east toward the Inner Harbor. 2 p.m.

3/15: Crazy Mason Cookie Decorating Class
Bring the fam to frost your own sugar shamrocks—and sprinkle them with the requisite edible gold glitter—at the Crazy Mason Milkshake Bar in Ellicott City. While you’re there, sip a special Lucky Float topped with Lucky Charms, green whipped cream, and rainbow sour belts. 8225 Main St. Ellicott City. 2 p.m. $60. 

St. Paddy’s Performances

3/13: Saint Shrektrick’s Rave
House music fans will be happy to hear that Soundstage is hosting a heart-thumping party in honor of everyone’s favorite green ogre. Throw on your best Shrek-themed ‘fit for a romp in the swamp that will let your mind wander to a land far far away. 124 Market PI. 9 p.m. $25

3/13-14: Claddagh Pub’s Annual Meet in the Street
The countdown is on for the tented, two-day tradition on O’Donnell Square, which will feature nonstop live music by multiple groups including local faves Starcrush, Crushing Day, Bryan O’Boyle, and Swarm of Bees. 2918 O’Donnell St. 9 a.m. Free admission

3/17: Ye Olde Emerald Tavern
This historic tavern is as close as you can get to the Emerald Isle in Parkville. Like always, St. Patrick’s Day will offer drink deals, hearty food (think: bangers and mash, Irish potato soup, corned beef and cabbage with potatoes, and Guinness-glazed wings) and lots of live music. Get pumped for sets by Good Noizz and Alter Ego Band. 8300 Harford Road, Parkville.

3/20: St. Patrick’s Day Celebration 2026
Wrap up your St. Paddy’s week with an evening of traditional Irish music at the Creative Alliance. Local supergroup Celtic Corridor and duo Collins & Vocke will take the stage for a night of timeless tunes, lively fiddle, and rich Celtic harmonies that will have you toe-tapping long after the final set. Creative Alliance, 3134 Eastern Ave. 7:30 p.m. $18-$35

Blair Simms was first captivated by Baltimore Club music through the sounds he heard rumbling through his radio speakers in middle school. As time went on—from witnessing the iconic K-Swift live as a teen to being mentored by producer legends like KW Griff to hearing his own music being played at “shake off” dance parties on the underground Baltimore Club scene—Simms, aka S.DOT, always felt his path was destined for something bigger in this world of music.

Throughout the last 10 years of DJing and producing around Baltimore, the Louisiana-born, Baltimore-bred artist has cultivated his own sound by blending Baltimore Club with electronic genres like gqom and afro house. And that innovative sound has catapulted him beyond bedroom production and DJ sets to a worldwide fanbase. He has performed across the U.S., Canada, U.K., and South Africa. He has been commissioned for remixes with acclaimed artists, like serpentwithfeet, and captivated audiences with a set on the viral Lot Radio.

Now, he’s carrying on the legacy that got him started, and already well on his way to becoming a next-generation star of Baltimore Club. Catch him at his brand-new MAXXED OUT party at The Compound on March 14. With this curated event, S.DOT enters a new era.

What is your relationship with Baltimore Club music? What’s your earliest memory of first hearing it and what was your response to it?
I was about 11 or 12 when I first heard it. I used to listen to the radio at my grandmother’s house, out in Ashburton. I would just tune in and sit by the radio and listen to “The Takeover” with Squirrel Wide and K-Swift [on 92Q]. From there, I think the thing that changed me, that really made me say “I want to do this,” was all of the high-school parties. I was always at those Poly-Western parties. Like every single weekend. I actually met K-Swift there once. And I just really enjoyed being in the element of listening to club music, in the club. From there, I started going to The Paradox.

What was it about the sound that was so interesting to you?
For me, it was always the beat pattern. The beat pattern was so different from things that I had listened to before, but it actually made me want to move. I wasn’t really a dancer. I still wouldn’t say I am now, but I just really enjoyed the way that club music made me feel, the way that the breaks were syncopated. All of that just gave me life. It always felt like an out-of-body experience, listening to club music. And it was something that I really enjoyed just because it was so different from what the norm was.

Because before that, I was in Louisiana. I had some house music that I listened to from the U.K. and Chicago, but I’d never heard club music before. It charged me up differently…I also found it really neat, coming into the Baltimore-D.C. area [later], that where there were two distinct, very Black sounds. And I just fell in love with both club and go-go. They were so different, but still very, very Black. 

“Listening to club music always felt like an out-of-body experience.”

What is the biggest difference between being a DJ and being a producer?
Producing is cathartic to me. I love creating new things. It’s the way that I express myself, and I am blessed that other people enjoy the music that I create. But I do that to push all of my stress away. Whereas with DJing, you’re doing the same for other people. You’re creating your own world when you DJ—your set is a journey where you’re taking people through these different songs, and also trying to read the crowd to make sure that you keep people on the floor and keep their bodies moving, so that they can have release. For me, that’s the big difference. Doing both…it keeps you busy.

What does it mean to be a DJ-producer out in the world today—in 2026?
For me, in the grand scheme of just Baltimore Club, it’s an incredible opportunity to showcase this music that came out of Baltimore. Not only the older classics, but all the different eras, including everything from my era in the 2010s, which was a lot quieter, which was not on 92Q. It was more so a very underground, niche sound. So I’m able to kind of unearth those records and make them new for people that have never heard them before and bring them into my world.

I also think that it inspires new producers. I think Baltimore is really having a renaissance on with club music. People actually want to know where the music originated from, where it came from, and then try to go up the like family tree of like, how did this person get here? What does their music sound like? What is their style? And it’s nice to be able to showcase that. …I think Baltimore has a huge place in contemporary dance music right now. Being the birthplace of club music, you hear [its influence] all over the place.

“Baltimore has a huge place in contemporary dance music right now. Being the birthplace of club music, you hear [its influence] all over the place.”

You constantly collaborate with other DJs. What made you want to launch your own party, Maxxed Out, and what inspired the name?
The name came from just like blowing out speakers. [Laughs.] Like turning all the dials up as loud as they could go and putting all of the volume levels on red. But the idea around the party was a thank you to Baltimore. I’ve played so many parties around this city and Baltimore Club music is the reason why I’ve been blessed to be able to travel to London and to Johannesburg and play these shows that I’ve played.

The city’s always shown me so much love through every evolution of my music and even through my DJing. But I’ve never really had a party to help people actually release. That’s something I always wanted to do, but I wanted to make sure that the curation was perfect. I also wanted to make sure I was at a point where I knew I could do this, solo. I wanted to make this thing distinctly mine.

What do you want attendees to experience?
I want people to leave my party revitalized. I want it to be an escape, but I also want it to honor the fact that you’re still here and that you’re able to enjoy life. I want to bring back a lot of the feel of the Dox. I want to be able to marry the fact that this is a party, but you also have like the Baltimore dancers there. I think there has been this huge breakup, because the dancing has gone so underground. But they’re also very much part of the lifeblood of Baltimore Club music. I want to be able to actually have a party where all of the people come, including all of the people that shaped my life and allowed me to be in this position that I’m in now.