Showing newest 41 of 45 posts from August 2008. Show older posts
Showing newest 41 of 45 posts from August 2008. Show older posts

30 August 2008

Circus Amok


My published Flavorpill post:
After nearly two decades of daring, New York's own Circus Amok still overwhelms the senses with its boisterous take on traditional three-ringers. Offbeat, political, and, above all, unpredictable, the troupe spends each September touring our city's squares and parks, spreading its colorful, PSA-meets-P.T. Barnum message on topics like police brutality and public education. Today, the merry pranksters regale park patrons with 17 colorful, message-sending acts on foreclosures and debt in 59 minutes. Among the many bewildering whatsits, look out for the rowdy Circus Amok Band, the woman with a beard (not bearded lady!), and a few acrobatic economists.

Poetry Reading and Fundraiser for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society


My published Flavorpill post:
According to popular sentiment, poets live in ivory towers where, far from the hoi poloi, they can shoehorn words like "hippogriff" and "hokum" into obtuse, inaccessible forms. Of course, this is nonsense (not to mention offensive). Tonight, four wordsmiths firmly root their craft in everyday concerns: 100% of raffle-raised dollars and half of the evening's book-sale profits benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The public-spirited function also celebrates the release of Word of Mouth curator/host Meghan Punschke's first volume of poems, Stratification. Amy King, Crotian expat Ana Božičević, and Best American Poetry series editor David Lehman round out the formidable bill.

Shoot the Piano Player


My published Flavorpill post:
In François Truffaut's playful adaptation of David Goodis' noir Down There (1956), the French chanteur Charles Aznavour plays Charlie, a crestfallen (you guessed it) piano player with a cagey past. Whiling his days away at a nondescript Parisian cabaret, Charlie falls in love, but the restorative romance is interrupted by underworld intrigue when his on-the-lam, mob-tied brothers appear out of the blue. Couched in too many tonal keys to count (ironic, melancholic, tragic), Truffaut keeps the criminal circus in harmony with the esprit of his early career, and with the overarching idea that films are borne from amour.

29 August 2008

Brooklyn Indie Market


My published Flavorpill post:
The Brooklyn Indie Market is the stateside equivalent of an Arab souk. Located a stone's throw from Smith Street's many tasty brunch spots, the collective of flourishing local designers opens up shop every Saturday and — starting September 7 — Sunday. Shoppers now have the entire weekend to pick over the latest fashions and beautiful, detail-oriented products, all unique and unavailable for mass consumption. Like everything else these days, the marketplace allows you to go local; you can avoid that bargain-basement anonymity by snagging a garment stitched with someone specific in mind.

Sinoptic Art

Via Boing Boing.

28 August 2008

Nouvelle Graphics

I'm gaga for Oli Laurelle's Invisible Journeys, a series of fluctuating graphics that depict the strength of wireless technology on her different treks through Europe.



Via PSFK.

27 August 2008

Invasion 68: Prague


My published Flavorpill post:
For Czechoslovakians in 1968, the Prague Spring was a half-year repose from Soviet vassalage. Then, on August 20th, the Soviets and their Warsaw Pact allies rolled into Prague, ending the peace and emptying the city of many of its artists (Milos Forman, for example). During the tumultuous week that followed, Josef Koudelka documented the Janus-faced invasion with the citizen's most potent armament: a camera. The photographer's seminal portfolio is full of what Cartier-Bresson called decisive moments — each emotion-tensed image is framed in a specific context that transforms it from the incidental to the iconic. Starting today, Pace/McGill and Aperture Gallery collaborate to exhibit the photos in their proper, outsized format.

Embossed Moss



From illustrator Anna Garforth's site:

Shipshape Pencils


Sculptress Jennifer Maestre assembles colored pencils into pretty, pointed pieces of art. Check out the anything-but-elementary figures here.

Boing Boing explains:
"She turns each colored pencil into beads by cutting them into inch-long sections and then drilling a hole in the base, then sharpens and sews hundreds of them together using the peyote stitch. "

26 August 2008

Tagging Our Guys and Gals

Before I mention Ray Bradbury and his speculative fiction, here’s the fantasist in a futuristic commercial for Sunsweet’s “Prune of Tomorrow.” It’s some astute and amusing casting on the brand’s part.


Anyways, last week featured an overwhelming spate of scientific announcements and advancements—hitherto, they had chiefly existed in the mid-century prose of people like Bradbury and other sci-fi media. Today, I discovered that spaceship-style palm vein scans are making their way stateside from machine-smitten Japan. The cutting-edge identity checker will ensure that future Gordon Geckos aren’t defrauding the system when they take their GMAT; in fact, the device pretty much eliminates the practice of proxy test taking (when someone else takes the test for money) as it’s 100 times more accurate and the proof-of-person resides on the body itself. The article specifies:

“The hand also has to be alive, exchanging gases, and full of blood for the veins to show up on the scan. In grim terms, that means a person couldn't cut off another person's hand and hold it over the scanner.”

I'm sure that the Japanese export will result in a sea change for cheaters everywhere (self-evident aside: students who score higher in courage and empathy don’t cheat). But for all its intents and purpose, it still makes us feel like I'm living in some faraway future.

22 August 2008

Environmental Photographer of the Year

While this won the award:

I prefer the reflective, runner-up piece:

Via Tree Hugger.

21 August 2008

Spectacular Scramble


My published Flavorpill post:
In our workweek stupor, we often forget about the awesome natural beauty that lies just beyond our city. Fortunately, the perfectly named Urban Escapes reawakens our inner Romantic with curated expeditions to New York's rural wonders. Today, make the most of the government-given holiday with a Breakneck Ridge hike, an all-day climb that peaks with a spectacular panorama of the Catskills, the Shawangunk Mountains, and the entire Hudson Valley. After some tough scrambling ascents, the trek pauses for an alfresco lunch at an old lookout tower with the picturesque landscape as a breathe-easy backdrop.

Sunday's Best!


My published Flavorpill post:
After 14 brunch-forgetting fêtes, the Yard's Sunday Best! series fades into the summer sunset. For its final afternoon, the backyard boogie welcomes hometown duo Metro Area — producers Morgan Geist and Darshan Jesrani — and their lush, multi-layered spin on dance music. The pair incorporates everything from disco to techno, while inserting live percussion alongside the electronic sounds. Regardless of whether you're there for the eats (organic BBQ!), beats, or end-of-summer peace by the Gowanus Canal, you'll be re-energized for a president- and premiere-packed September

Elevator to the Gallows


My published Flavorpill post:
In noir tradition, antiheroes' fail-safe schemes always seem to catch on that one inconvenient snag: fate. For its French Crime Wave series, Film Forum has programmed five weeks of these unforeseen underworld setbacks. The early Nouvelle Vague thriller Elevator to the Gallows is a faultless illustration of the genre, leaving its machinations to a machine — the lovers' future hangs on a malfunctioning elevator. Jolie laide Jeanne Moreau stands out as the tycoon's wife who enlists her ex-paratrooper lover to fake her husband's suicide. Underrated auteur Louis Malle maintains an up-and-down mood throughout, one fraught with desperation and a dash of beatnik cool courtesy of Miles Davis' improvised score.

19 August 2008

In Memoriam: Manny Farber


My favorite critic-painter-teacher died on Sunday. Here is Criterion's short round-up:

The great American film critic Manny Farber died on Sunday night, August 17, at the age of 91. “The liveliest, smartest, most original film critic this country every produced,” wrote Susan Sontag of the hugely influential Farber, who began writing on film in the early 1940s and was the critic first for The New Republic and then for The Nation and Time. He was an early champion of the works of Howard Hawks, Anthony Mann, and Samuel Fuller, and famously coined the term “termite art” (as opposed to the insufferable “white elephant art”) to describe work that “goes forward eating its own boundaries, and, likely as not, leaves nothing in its path other than the signs of eager, industrious, unkempt activity” (Phillip Lopate said of this statement, “Farber could have been talking about his own writing”!). Farber later turned more to avant-garde cinema. His writings on film were compiled in several collections, including Negative Space. Farber was also a painter, and his art can be found in the collections of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the Museum of Contemporary Art Los Angeles, the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, and the Whitney Museum of American Art.

More on Manny to come.

18 August 2008

Rio de JR


The Parisian street artist JR and his most ambitious and amazing project yet: The flavelas of Rio de Janeiro, the City of God.


16 August 2008

Fort Greene Literary Festival


My published Flavorpill post:
The iconoclastic poet/playwright Amiri Baraka once declared, "There cannot be any apprenticeship for freedom." At today's festival, Baraka backs up this sentiment by reading alongside a cadre of the community's young writers as well as past and present poet laureates (Baraka's polemical 9/11 poem was the impetus behind the abolishment of the honorific in New Jersey). The pen-is-mightier program also features "Janitor of History" Louis Reyes Rivera, Norway's best-selling translated poet Hal Sirowitz, and Miles Davis aficionado Quincy Troupe. The experimental rhythms of the Indoda Entsha Percussion Ensemble punctuate an afternoon that reminds us to spread the love — it's the Brooklyn way.

Bushwick Film Festival


My published Flavorpill post:
Before the sight-and-sound marathon known as the New York Film Festival begins, cinephiles can warm up their senses at the second annual Bushwick Film Festival. While it lacks household-name cachet, the weekend event is also free of the big-name festival’s noblesse oblige; instead, the organizers spotlight the arty area’s loft-like communal spirit with some curated R and R—alternative performances, barbecues, brews, music, and an all-embracing program of films. The festivities are bookended by Lovisa Inserra's Buster, a Super 8 film about a man who embodies the titular put-down, and A Map for Saturday, a documentary about the worldwide wanderings of long-term travelers.

15 August 2008

Recycling More Than Big Macs


This Swedish McDonalds looks like the cleanest and coolest one I've ever seen. This is their trash area, where they've made recycling an easy, match-the-shape task. Swedes are seriously too hip, even the poor ones who eat McNuggets.

14 August 2008

Olly Olly Olympic Free


Last Friday, the Beijing Olympics commenced with a breathtaking parade of razzle-dazzle. Although lip-synching and fake fireworks continue to be front-page slip-ups, the ceremony stopped naysayers midsentence and set the scale for the Games a notch below the Great Wall. With the games now off and away, The New York Times changes the world's geography into geometric shapes for their interactive and immaculately designed timeline for Olympic medals. Each continent-coded circle represents the country's medal count: the more wins, the larger the circle. Scroll through each year to see which nation dominated those Games (remember steroid-boosted East Germany?) and then click on each country to see which individuals brought gold back to adoring throngs of compatriots.

Finally, check out GOOD's new Olympic video on why certain countries have a near monopoly in a given event. I helped write the script for it and am quite pleased to say the least.

13 August 2008

What Is Coitus?

As an au contraire to BBC's sexy new Pre-Raphaelite series, Guardian columnist John Sutherland writes a revealing piece about the who's who of literary virgins. In his exposé (sorta), Sutherland ponders if a lack of libido shaped the unsullied scribes' work for better or worse. Here are the ten spotless minds:
Queen Elizabeth I
Jane Austen

Emily Dickinson

Henry James

Gerard Manley Hopkins

EM Forster

George Bernard Shaw

WB Yeats

Anne Widdicombe

Christina Rossetti

While on the subject of sowing the wild oats, Weird Universe has scanned a complete copy of "A Boy Today…A Man Tomorrow," a laughable, but valuable sex-ed manual for boys from 1972.

12 August 2008

Analog Messaging


After raiding the wrong home, the cheeky police in Oldham, UK eschewed traditional apologies for a color-me-bad, magnetized version. The blokes didn't even leave a number to get back to them and, excuse me for asking, isn't this a somewhat strange task for a task force enlisted to serve and protect, not spell and position?

11 August 2008

Gunnin' For That #1 Spot


My published Flavorpill post.
My mishmash:
Harlem’s Rucker Park is the holy ground for basketball pilgrims everywhere, not to mention the end-of-argument reference on any streetballer’s résumé. Two years ago, the red-and-green court hosted our nation’s top prep stars for the first Elite 24 Hoops Classic. In his new documentary, Beastie Boy Adam “MCA” Yauch spotlights eight of these highly touted teenagers who took part in the inaugural event, from recent Association additions like Michael Beasley to surefire future stars such as Lance Stephenson. With his typical, above-the-rim flair, Yauch delivers an alley for the hoopsters to showcase their personalities as pressure to become the next One mounts.

Art and Music in Popular Culture

My published Flavorpill post:
Tonight's experimental-film program feels like an hour-long look into the wrong end of a telescope, as uncharted explorations hit the eye in dazzling and disorienting ways. Spanning 25 years, these music videos and shorts go beyond the mainstream's myopic preferences, and include the Cars' nightclub escapades in the Andy Warhol-directed "Hello Again," Laurie Anderson's playful polychromatic graphics in "Sharkey's Day," and Sonic Youth's stage-meets-special-effects tribute to Karen Carpenter, "Tunic (Song for Karen)." As the selections near the present day, the reliance on turn-of-the-20th-century tricks (superimposition, layering, and dissolves) transitions into sound-technology avant-gardism and a fascination with faux-verité footage.

For The Record


They don't make them like they used to. Back in the day, what appeared on a LP cover was as important as what was covered. Here's a wonderful website dedicated to spreading the vinyl love. Thankfully, they've tagged the covers according to easy-to-browse categories; whether you're in the mood for Golden Throats or Bongos and Bagels, there's some old thing for everyone.

Via Boing Boing.

Write and Wrong


Even geniuses have guilty pleasures. Proust had his madeleines, Faulkner his under-the-desk beverage. Other men of letters—cuckoo Ken Kesey, Oscar Wilde, the late Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn—had famous (some ruinous) run-ins with the Law. And now thanks to James Hawes, we know that Kafka, when he wasn’t contemplating and critiquing the absurdity of our modern existence, had explicit pornography. In his new book Excavating Kafka, Hawes reveals that the existential icon received enough prurient booklets from his publisher for a hardcore habit. This slip, of course, lends future English majors some contextual leverage for what Gregor Samsa’s uneasy dreams were really about.

While on the subject of great, existential artists, Newsweek has a fabulous profile on the for-all-time neurotic Woody Allen. To promote his latest film Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Allen chats candidly about Fred Astaire, happy endings, and, of course, the indifference of a random universe.

An especially telling bit is Allen’s take on making movies: “[They] are a great diversion [...] because it's much more pleasant to be obsessed over how the hero gets out of his predicament than it is over how I get out of mine."

Finally, for those writers whose raison d’être is to pen the next Great American Novel, here’s a list of 50 highly useful websites. It's a comprehensive, cure-all list that we'll be sure to revisit in the near future.

10 August 2008

Roo Ruse?


The BBC reports that eating kangaroos instead of cows would greatly reduce greenhouse gas emissions. 11% of Australia's carbon footprint is made by sheep and cattle, and Dr. George Wilson of the Australian Wildlife Services assures us that "it tastes excellent, not unlike venison - only a different flavour."

To be honest, I don't know if trading in mammal meat for marsupial meat is an appetizing solution and, at least in this country, very few will jump at their chance for some pouched kang with eggs.

Paris Fly Trap


From PSFK:
"Ludo is a Paris based street artist who’s been wheat pasting a striking series of pieces around the city. Titled “Nature’s Revenge”, the works depict plants and flowers that have evolved into nature/machine hybrids in order to defend themselves against human aggression and pollution."

07 August 2008

The Visual Rhetoric of Environmentalism


My published Flavorpill post:
Now that most naysayers have acknowledged that global warming isn't just overheated claptrap, it's time to organize. In the Visual Rhetoric of Environmentalism, a few in-the-know people debate the best way to present the hot topic's facts, figures, and sustainable solutions. The 21st-century knights of the round table include Cameron Tonkinwise (chair of the Design Thinking and Sustainability program at Parsons), Charles M. Blow (the New York Times' video op-ed columnist), and Mitchell Joachim, a partner at philanthropic design collaborative Terreform 1. Brian Sholis, editor of Artforum.com, moderates the much-needed back and forth.

Hey I'm Walkin' Here!: Bronx and Manhattan


My published Flavorpill post:
Hey, I'm Walkin' Here! invites like-minded bipeds to explore New York en masse for both entertainment and exercise. Tonight is the Bronx-Manhattan segment of the borough-covering series (whose name references Dustin Hoffman's famous outburst in Midnight Cowboy). The 16-mile promenade down Broadway begins at Van Cortlandt Park, ends at Battery Park, and passes through Central Park, the Great White Way, and several Squares, to name a few. Loose clothing and comfortable shoes are par for the course — as is banging a note of respect on any crosswalk-impinging cab.

Teenage Kicks


The Aussie paper The Age published a pretty pointless article about teenagers and how their musical tastes correspond to certain attitudes and attributes--I say pointless simply because one of the interviewed experts says that there isn't any actual causation and perhaps only correlation. Either way, the stereotyped, horoscope-broad definitions are amusing enough.
Here they are, sweepingly:

POP: Conformists, overly responsible, role-conscious, struggling with sexuality or peer acceptance.

HEAVY METAL: Higher levels of suicidal ideation, depression, drug use, self-harm, shoplifting, vandalism, unprotected sex.

DANCE: Higher levels of drug use regardless of socio-economic background.

JAZZ/RHYTHM & BLUES: Introverted misfits, loners.

RAP: Higher levels of theft, violence, anger, street gang membership, drug use and misogyny.

A Go-Figure, Gothic Wonder


Nikolai Sutyagin, a gangster-cum-ghetto-carpenter, spent the last 15 years building this ramshackle, but strangely appealing palace. The spare-time assembler’s Arkhangelsk dacha—Arkhangelsk a city in Russia’s far north-west—stands 144 feet tall and is quite possibly the world’s tallest wooden house. It looks like something out of a German Expressionist film or, for a more contemporary reference, Edward Scissorhands’ hideaway in the hills. Even his racketeering rap sheet and mystery-shrouded person seem lifted from a movie.

KFC: Killer For Chicken


I call fried chicken fried gold because I love the aorta-clogging style of chicken so dearly, but this story takes that deep-felt affection to a new, priceless level: a man with dreams of an ice cream truck business exchanging his sweet freedom for some sweeter fried chicken. That's what I call true love.

From CNN:
"Durham agreed to plead guilty to murder -- but only if he could get a break from jail food. The judge agreed and granted Durham a feast of KFC chicken, Popeye's chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, carrot cake and ice cream.

After Wednesday's sentencing, Durham was to get the rest of the deal -- calzones, lasagna, pizza and ice cream, his defense attorney confirmed. They will pay the tab."

Greenhouse Effect


These are New Yorkers who are all pent(housed) up with the city's concrete reputation, and have the money to make their own secret (at least at street-level) gardens. Of course, they could also be each building's communal, consciously-designed gardens.

Via Boing Boing.

06 August 2008

Tri(cycle) This On For Size


In India, children squeeze in a space lesson before school--literal prisoners of poverty. Meanwhile, American children complain about sitting next to someone they don't like.

Via TreeHugger.

05 August 2008

Ge-Ology and Waajeed


My published Flavorpill post:
Tonight, swank Meatpacking spot 1OAK hosts a quid pro quo event that gives back with more than just a hangover the next morning. Stoked Mentoring, a nonprofit group that supports teens through action sports, throws a fundraiser with the de rigueur attractions: an open bar and can't-stop, won't-stop DJs. Manning the decks are Ge-ology and Waajeed — the former known as the author of Tupac's first beat and a designer of Rawkus 12-inches, the latter for his Slum Village affiliation and his current neo-soul duo, the Platinum Pied Pipers.

Blue Velvet


My published Flavorpill post:
McCarren Pool is the perfect decaying open-air space for David Lynch's classic Blue Velvet, a treatise on small-town Amerika's sinister side. Kyle Maclachlan stars as the milquetoast who stumbles upon a severed ear one fine day and proceeds to piece together the attached mystery. What he discovers is Lynch's caution-taped domain: an underworld overrun with kidnappings, sadomasochistic role play, psychotic characters (ether-fueled Dennis Hopper, tragic/animalistic Isabella Rossellini), and a fabulously loony lip-synch of Roy Orbison's "In Dreams."

Le Cercle Rouge


My published Flavorpill post:
The Americanization of French culture has long been a point of contention. Jean-Pierre Melville (née Grumbach; he modified it to express his affection for the Moby-Dick writer) wholeheartedly embraced the transatlantic invasion that arrived after WWII, leaving much of its gangster etiquette untranslated in his existential, no-exit crime films. Le Cercle Rouge is his heist masterpiece, a darkly atmospheric film that follows a just-freed master thief (the aristocratic Alain Delon) and his plan for a make-or-break Place Vendôme robbery. The auteur of cool executes his directorial vision with a surgeon's even-handed precision, and Melville's familiarity with the subject matter allows him to slip poetry and philosophy into a dead-serious procedural.

Lindsay Anderson: Revolutionary Romantic


My published Flavorpill post:
The bedrock figure of Britain's influential Free Cinema movement, director Lindsay Anderson clinched his fame with the anarchic end to If. . .: an armed insurrection at a dysfunctional boarding school. Lincoln Center screens this spirit-of-'68 masterpiece along with the maverick's other garlanded features to celebrate Malcolm McDowell's new film on their productive partnership, Never Apologize. Besides If. . ., in which McDowell debuted his trademark menace as hooligan Mick Travis, the program includes the last two parts of the Travis trilogy, O Lucky Man! and Britannia Hospital, socially conscious knockout This Sporting Life, as well as two poetic John Ford films that Anderson adored, My Darling Clementine and They Were Expendable.

8 1/2


My published Flavorpill post:
Federico Fellini opens his kaleidoscopic self-portrait 8 1⁄2 with a metaphor for the creation-challenged artist: alter ego Guido (a bello Marcello Mastroianni) suffocating in his vehicle as other gridlocked urbanites gape. Guido's ensuing flight of fancy is a breathtaking piece of filmmaking, in which Fellini smashes a would-be narrative about making movies into a mosaic of memory, fantasy, and distant reality. The story bounds between the impatience of Guido's producers and the criticism of his many pretty women — and each surreal scene is the very definition of the term Felliniesque.

Up and Away!


From Boing Boing:
"Axel Peemoeller's award-winning parking lot design has giant words that snap into focus when you stand (or drive) in the right position, providing strong orientation cues."

Our Time Together

Sincerely, Jason Jude Chan
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