If you're one of the thee people who got tickets for tonight, why don't you take a picture of yourself Thom Y0rking while at the show? Meta. Radiohead would appreciate that.
Some standouts below:
A protest against rape and sexual assault in New York couldn't come at a better time, between the rape cop acquittal, Dominique Strauss-Kahn getting off scott free, and the ongoing sex attacks in Park Slope/Sunset Park/Windsor Terrace. And yet.
In an open letter to the SlutWalk organizers, a group of Black women, including the board and founders of Black Women’s Blueprint and many, many others, wrote about why SlutWalk does not speak to the rape and sexual assault that women of color experience:
A look, if you will:
Earlier this year we predicted that one of the season's must-see exhibitions would be Bob Dylan's show of paintings from his travels throughout Asia at Gagosian's Madison Avenue location, and we were so right! But not because the impressionistic travelogue acrylic paintings are especially interesting—highly debatable; because rather than being accounts of the musician's travels they may actually be copied from well-known photographs.
Late in life, weakened by alcohol and defeated by Hollywood, Nicholas Ray took a job teaching at SUNY-Binghamton, and he collaborated with his students on a film, We Can’t Go Home Again, which screened as a work-in-progress at Cannes in 1973 and has popped up sporadically since, including, at last, this restoration of the Cannes presentation. (Ray continued to work on the film up to his death in 1979; his widow Susan’s new making-of documentary Don’t Expect Too Much may offer some insight into the work.)
Roman Polanski's terrific screwball adaptation of a Yasmina Reza play begins with four adults trying peaceably to settle a problem between their sons; it ends with four creatures drunk, exhausted and reverted to a primal state of hostility. Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly play dippy liberals, the parents of a boy who got two teeth knocked out in a fight at Brooklyn Bridge Park (they're also residents of an apartment, with a working fireplace, too large and lovely for their income level); Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz are well-dressed professionals, parents of the skirmish's stick-swinging aggressor. They spend most of the movie with their coats on, motioning to go but never making it farther than the hallway, the souring summit a kind of no-exit nightmare as all four slowly shed the put-on signifiers of maturity and indulge instead puerile impulses, effectively adopting their kids' conflict and de-evolving into children.
Last time we received a dispatch from the Prospect Park West bike lane battle front, the lane-hating lawsuit-filers vowed to sue again after their case against the Department of Transportation demanding the lane's removal was dismissed, and some improvements were underway at its northern end. Now more adjustments to the controversial bike path are in the works, as is an appeal by its opponents following their ill-fated (and -advised) initial suit.
Mayor Bloomberg’s pretty okay, but the city isn’t, therefore he’s doing a good job making the city... not okay? A NY1/Marist College poll has the latest in perplexing, somewhat schizophrenic poll results: 46 percent of people surveyed think the mayor’s job performance is good or excellent, 35 percent believe his performance is fair, and 18 percent say it’s very poor. But 52 percent of responders think the city "is going in the wrong direction."
Look, I found this video on YouTube to inspire you to lie to your boss and say you're suddenly not feeling well:
Live @ (le) poisson rouge, Manhattan
September 27, 2011
OK, so it seems sort of silly to even write this, because, of course he can, but Geoff Barrow can really play the drums! The Portishead maestro, hanging out in New York City ahead of a probable fried-dough coma at Asbury Park for All Tomorrow’s Parties this weekend and a couple of highly anticipated shows in town with his main band next week, was only the drummer last night (and not just standing behind a indeterminate noise box or digging records out of a crate, as I pictured in teenage Portishead fever dreams). Anika, the European chanteuse whose excellent post-punk record he produced last year, sauntered out only after he and his other other band Beak> had already started playing. Backlit in a black dress, radiantly morose, she was picture perfect for the decaying post-punk aesthetic conjured by Barrow and co. Try as you might, you'll never find a better bummer.
In an official announcement today the Museum of Modern Art confirmed what many art world insiders already knew, that the museum had acquired one of the six editions of Christian Marclay's time-keeping supercut "The Clock" (2010), which caused hours-long waits outside Paula Cooper Gallery last winter when it was shown there. The museum has yet to announce how and when the 24-hour video work will be exhibited.
So here's wishing all of you a fitter, happier, more productive 5772.
* Late in its run Aaron Sorkin's Sports Night had a really good joke about the compulsion of Jewish parents to remind their adult children about the upcoming Jewish holidays, incidentally.
It's already been two years since Performa 09, which means it's time for Performa 11, whose full roster of performers was announced late last week. The performance art biennial, which runs from November 1-21, won't launch with an ostentatious art feast, but it will feature many of the artists you would expect, among them...
Last time I mentioned the Copenhagen-based art collective Superflex it was because they'd flooded a restaurant—a McDonald's—but now they've transformed a Greek restaurant on the Lower East Side far more subtly by building inside it a replica of the executive bathrooms at JPMorgan Chase & Co.'s Financial District headquarters.
No matter your thoughts on Vampire Weekend, can we agree that this kid is insanely talented? And that pretty much everything he touches ends up pretty great? And since we're asking questions, does that photo posted on his blog of Vampire Weekend drummer Chris Tomson in the studio mean that they just recorded their new album? We'd like for that to happen very much.
What appears to be Kimmi's character is played by lead singer Andrea Estella, and she does a good job of looking wide-eyed and victimized by an evil spirit à la Tevye's crazy dream sequence in Fiddler On The Roof. Maybe the spirit's supposed to represent Agent Orange? Or, more generally, total war? The ghostly, fused-head twin thing at the end implies something nuclear-related.
You can watch it below, then hug your knees and rock until you get to your safe place. After, you can listen to Twin Sister's funky and thoughtful new album, In Heaven, which is out today.
The day has finally arrived for selected cell phone service on certain Manhattan subway platforms, but not on trains, and not for every cell phone carrier. Props to AT&T and T-Mobile. To see how New Yorkers are reacting to this new development, I took to the streets, er, the subway platform to get the scoop.
Every time I think nobody else would get it, I realize I'm underestimating others who…
What a great read! Music, hers in particular, has kept me here. It's been a…