Marina Abramovic's much-mediated performance at MoMA, The Artist Is Present, ends on Monday, so today's (not officially affiliated) new Twitter performance @MarinasChair started tweeting just in time. It's gross, it's snarky, and about as funny as a performance art prop could be, really.
Is it ok if I let this one go without commentary? Yeah? Thanks.
In a publicity stunt/smear campaign last week, some dudes from Greenpeace climbed the facade of BP's London headquarters to replace their slick flag with this one, thereby launching an open design competition to create a new BP logo as part of a campaign about the company's plans to start investing in tar sands and continue similarly environmentally costly operations like, oh, say, offshore drilling. All of which is to say that there's already a 200 submissions-strong Flickr photo set of alternate, oily BP logos, some of which (pictured) are outstanding. (TheDailyWhat)
Since the announcement that Jeffrey Deitch would take over as director of L.A.'s Museum of Contemporary Art, we've been wondering just what impact the closing of his Soho gallery, Deitch Projects, would have on the 'hood, and the New York art world more generally. Here's one thing we'll really miss, especially amidst all the advertising in Soho: the murals and installations that Deitch artists regularly created on the gallery's façades. Here, then, culled from the gallery website, are all the Deitch Projects façades from 1996 to the most recent, following the death of Dash Snow in 2008.
The Deitch Projects Façades
Soho's gallery Deitch Projects closes on May 29, 2010, after letting artists use its buildings as murals and installations for 14 years.
I've already spoken at length about my fondness for John Prine, so I'll keep this brief: He stopped by Letterman last night for a performance of "All the Best," featuring My Morning Jacket's Jim James (currently going by his idiotic pseudonym Yim Yames), who recorded the song for Broken Hearts and Dirty Windows, the John Prine tribute album coming out on June 22nd. It happens to be my favorite Prine song, which also makes it one of my top favorite songs ever, and it sounds great here: Prine doing the understated, near-spoken thing his post-surgery voice demands of him these days, while James provides an explicit interpretation of the implicitly emotional original. Take special note of the lines, "Well I got no hate, and I got no pride, well I've got so much love that I cannot hide," and then repeat them to yourself over and over again all day every day for the rest of your life.
Yesterday B.o.B released his photography-themed video, and today another ATLien drops visuals for a camera-related song: Big Boi's "Shutterbug", the very promising first single off Sir Luscious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty, which comes out July 6. It's more Tron than Blow-Up, though, from the glowing neon suits to the luminescent car. There's also his band of puppets and that part where Big Boi's head turns into a Rolodex. Not sure what to make of all that; dope track though. (Complex)
At that time, it's looking increasingly likely that the Whitney will completely vacate its inverted cement bunker on Madison Avenue and lease those galleries to the Metropolitan Museum. ArtInfo's secret informant puts it dramatically: “Met curators are having a food fight about who is going to get more space and where,” they view this deal “as a once in a lifetime chance to get more space.” Let the great museum gallery food fight of 2015 begin!
And I'm perfectly fine with the idea of American Idol as a popularity contest. That's what it's always been, really, and that's what all pop music has always been—there's a reason technical virtuosity doesn't always equal success: we like a good story, we like obvious shortcomings, we like over-the-top humility and a generally pleasant demeanor. Lee had all those things, Crystal only the first two. It wasn't enough, and it never should have been.
So, here's how I see it:
hey guys. i can't seem to find that many good, modern beach-y songs, all i keep finding is older music, like kokomo by the beach boys. don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with the classics, but does anybody know any really good, modern vacation/beach/summer songs? gracias :)
The best answer? Courtesy of someone who goes by the name sodiumbong? Here you go:
And if that's not enough (if that is enough, you are super weird), the band will be performing live as well. It'll be the first time there's ever been live music at the Flea, so go forth, everyone, and make history. Adorable, adorable history.
Before B.o.B's major label debut, B.o.B Presents: â€¨The Adventures of Bobby Ray, there was the spectacular split personality mixtape B.o.B vs. Bobby Ray (download), which included the upbeat vanity narrative "Camera." Now, for no apparent reason, here's an official Blow-Up-ish video for the track, with no B.o.B appearance but lots and lots of sexy models modeling sexily. It's the essence of "rap video." (NahRight)
Brownstoner's got more photos, but basically, yeah, at the corner of Washington and Water, just two blocks from L Mag HQ, two manholes exploded about fifteen minutes ago. It apparently had to do with construction, transformers and
terrorists Decepticons. Con Ed's on the scene, and nobody is hurt.
I've always thought of Frightened Rabbit as the Scottish version of Kings of Leon, meaning I always sense a certain off-putting self-assuredness in them—like if they do wind up playing arenas, they'll think, "Well, duh, of course," rather than "Holy shit, this is crazy!" It's a gut thing, and I could easily convinced otherwise. In fact, their performance of "Nothing Like You" on Fallon last night may have done just that. As Ms. Suarez over at Stereogum pointed out, they tweeted about how nervous they were, which is sweet, and also it's a really good song that's reminding me how awesome The Long Winters were. So, hmm. Frightened Rabbit, eh? I think I like them now.
I rushed over to find the calf lying on the grass lifeless, she had a very weak heartbeat and was not breathing, I checked her airway was clear, rubbed her briskly to stimulate the heart and gave her a couple of breaths in her mouth - as soon as I was confident that she was breathing I left her to bond with her mother.
The baby deer has since been named Snow White. Now I'm going to drink some rye and read J.G. Ballard.
Because for the most part most women are whores !
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