Elysia Liang

On the corner of 25th and Christina Avenue in Little Village stands a small, two-story building with a pointed tower. Behind its plain exterior is a room with goldenrod walls and decorations featuring crosses, saints, and depictions of the Virgin Mary. A few people sat in small chairs and someone stood behind the counter, looking busy. From a room in the back, the music from a child’s birthday party floated through when its guests wandered into the cafe. A few framed photos sit on a small table next to a flight of stairs. Cafe Catedral had all the makings of a coffee shop, but with two noticeable exceptions: no drinks or food items could be found, and a homemade sign announced that the building was for sale in bold Times New Roman.

The cafe has a history that is as unique as its decorations. Abraham Dueñas and his wife, Alma, opened this cafe in 2005 after noticing that there was something missing in the neighborhood. When Mr. Dueñas, who grew up in a college town in Mexico, moved to Chicago, he noticed that the coffee shops that were so ubiquitous in his childhood were missing in his new home. After traveling in Europe with his wife, Dueñas wanted to bring a little piece of the Continent to Little Village. “We had tapas from France, crepes from France, and paninis from Italy,” he said about his menu.

Elysia Liang

Sitting in at a table near the entrance, Dueñas sat in a white polo after giving tours of the building to interested passerby also discussed the cafe’s decorating scheme. “The building used to be a flower shop, and we thought it looked like a cathedral.” The various portraits, carvings, and statues of religious figures and symbols came from friends, yard sales, regular customers, and even archeological excavations. In one corner, there is a small figurine of Saint Anthony who “can help you find your better half,” noted Dueñas as he surveyed his collection in search of notable finds.

The cafe’s claim to fame extends beyond its fascinating inception. The coffee shop was featured in Stranger Than Fiction as the setting for the 2006 release, featuring Will Ferrell. It has seen patronage of famous faces such as Rahm Emmanual. Perhaps most importantly, it has been a place to foster a sense of community. Various organizations used the cafe’s space to host and plan events. Dueñas himself is vice president of a local newspaper and a group that runs internet radio shows, both of which are based in the second floor of the space. “We created an impact,” he noted.

Due to recent economic conditions, Dueñas has been forced to shut down his business. However, he hopes to sell or rent the space “to someone who will continue to do what we do.” For the time being though, the cafe still stands, opening its doors briefly to groups that had asked to used the space before the decision to close had been made. Even after its official closing, it still has deep roots in the neighborhood in which it resides and the people who live there.

Matt Montequin

On my way to Little Village on Saturday to cover Numero Group’s A.V. Club-hyped record sale, a mix-up in my bus transfer caused me to see more of the South Side than I had originally planned.  Walking along 55^th Street from Western to Kedzie to find the route I should have taken, I caught a glimpse of a few yard sales taking place on the lawns adorning the sidewalks.  My decision to sleep late that day had left me with less than an hour until the record sale was set to close—not enough time to browse anywhere else—so I passed them up and caught a bus north to the event as soon as I could.

What I arrived to was an apartment building that looked like all the others on Marshall Boulevard.  In front, a hodgepodge of LPs, old roller skates, and Jawbreaker t-shirts sat on tables and in cardboard boxes at what really didn’t appear much different from the yard sales I had passed by earlier.  Had I not known what was going on, I wouldn’t have expected to be looking at the face of a record label, let alone one that received a Grammy nomination this past year, falling short to The White Stripes for the award.  Then again, Numero Group isn’t the most expected label in the music industry.

An archival label dedicated to resurrecting forgotten music of the ’60s and ’70s, Numero Group is in large part the project of Ken Shipley, whom I met at the sale.  Shipley was working at the Rykodisc label when he decided to take things in a different direction, joining Tom Lunt and Rob Sevier to form Numero Group.  Since its start in 2003, the label has released over sixty titles, garnering national attention and critical acclaim from such outlets as CNN and Pitchfork, all while running most operations out of the group’s Little Village apartment.  Surprising?  I was told the group didn’t even have the full apartment until recently.

The sale on Saturday showcased most, if not all, of the label’s records.  Interested myself in what Numero Group had to offer, I asked Ken where a good starting place to the Numero canon would be.  He directed me to the label’s first issue, Numero 001, a compilation of “Eccentric Soul” coming out of Columbus, Ohio between 1967 and 1974.  The label that had originally released the music, Capsoul, had been defunct since the mid-70s, pushing most of the music into obscurity for decades until Numero tracked the music down for reissue in 2004.  Not knowing what to expect but aware that this was probably my only chance to get the album, I purchased it to support independent music on the South Side.  After a few listens, I couldn’t get “You’re All I Need To Make It” (below) out of my head.  Overall, it’s an album that has the substance of its Motown contemporaries blended with the complexities that marked some of the time period’s most innovative music.  As I was promised, it got me ready for more of the Numero collection.

Video from ossopalatino on YouTube

At the heart of the event, though, was the community spirit behind cleaning out the closets, putting up some signs, and having a yard sale.  Numero Group’s employees and associates had their own items out as part of the sale as well.  While resisting the urges typically associated with finding a $2 pair of shoes and a $20 Nintendo 64, I did walk away with three used CDs and a copy of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest.  But maybe the most significant thing that I took back to the UofC campus was an assurance of why I am blogging for the Chicago Weekly this year: to absorb the less-written about culture that Numero Group and others contribute to the city, which I will be hopefully be covering more in the coming weeks.  I’d say experiencing that is definitely worth taking the wrong CTA directions here and there.

To learn more about Numero Group, check out this story we published about the label last year, their website at numerogroup.com, or their blog at numerogroup.wordpress.com.

Gapers Block recently published an article and video about Chicago’s street vendors, many of whom can be found on the sidewalks of Little Village selling elotes (corn with mayo, cheese, and chili powder), chicharrones (pork rinds), and other cheap, delicious snacks. It’s currently illegal to sell food that’s been prepared at a street cart in Chicago, and the Little Village-based Asociación de Vendedores Ambulantes (AVA) is lobbying the city to create a new license that would allow them to do so. You can read more about the issue in an In These Times article by CW writer Robin Peterson.

This Saturday, monochrome Canadian noisemaker the dead are those who have died headlines at the Mortville loft, and he’s bringing festive but equally abrasive pal Ptarmigan. Both share two major influences—the hoary-but-revered members of the noise canon like Boredoms, DNA, and the Dead C, and the young, fresh, and New York Times-approved acts like AIDS Wolf, Hair Police, and Black Dice. The weirdest bearded members of the noise-connoisseur message board chondriticsound.com aren’t fans, but I hear the kids like it. Also on the all-noise bill: Chicagoans piss piss piss moan moan moan.