Ever since the High Line opened and began to attract flocks of tourists and unquantifiable millions of dollars to the adjacent West Chelsea streets, other neighborhoods and cities have been trying to replicate the formula. We even tried to imagine a new High Line-style retrofit park for each of the outer boroughs. But the parkland potential of one about-to-be-decommissioned piece of infrastructure hadn't occurred to us: the Tappan Zee Bridge. Now a movement is afoot to convert Tarrytown's Hudson-spanning bridge into a pedestrian crossing and park.
Back in 2010 we thought that the $106.5 million dropped at auction on Pablo Picasso's "Nude, Green Leaves and Bust" (1932) was impressive, but we see now that those were small potatoes. Yesterday news broke that the royal family of Qatar paid a mind-boggling $250 million for Paul Cézanne's "The Card Players" (1892-93, detail above), making it the most expensive artwork ever sold.


For our readers who may not be familiar with your work, what’s the most accurate thing someone else has said about it?
I suppose Alain de Boton’s sympathetic description: that I sought (and sometimes managed) to see worlds in a grain of sand. With the alarming proviso that, as the years roll by, such an author must be ever more desperately seeking grains of sand to see worlds in.
"We've been working on it since June," says Red Hook-based artist Dustin Yellin as he stands in the main exhibition space of a new art center in a Civil War-era warehouse on Pioneer Street. "And the key has just been to get the building operational so that artists can move in, and as soon as it warms up we can really start to work outside." Walking through this block-long, three-story-high space, the startling size and character of the building is astounding. "I walk in here and I feel that way," Yellin says. "Every day I walk in here and I go, 'Where am I? This is bananas.' Every day."

I've heard people talking about this for the past few days, and Klingman even blogged about it earlier in the week, but I sort of couldn't even get myself to acknowledge that it could be true. Except it is. Madonna has a terrible and embarrassing new song called "Give Me All Your Luvin'," which features Nicki Minaj and M.I.A., two otherwise strong-enough seeming women who were inexplicably willing to dress up as cheerleaders and prance around like fucking idiots for 4 minutes while Madonna dances with football players or whatever. We're probably supposed to assume something subversive is happening here, because that's what I've gathered we're supposed to assume about everything that's stupid these days, but mostly I think it's just some bullshit jock-pop jam with dialed-in, cliché-ridden lyrics more befitting a 9th-grade girl than, say, a 53-year-old woman. Watch the video here, if you must.
SUTTON:
Hey, Henry, where were you on "the worst day"? Oh, that's right, you were sitting in the theater next to me while we watched September 11th grief porn Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, a collective trauma-tapping drama about how that day's tragic events ravaged the innocence of a nation as pure as a precocious young boy with blond hair and deep blue eyes. Except, wait, protagonist Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn)—whose jeweler father Thomas (Tom Hanks), died in the attacks—is kind of a jerk, right? He may have Asperger's, he says, but he's also a compulsive liar, possibly a racist and traitor: he tells a black shopkeeper that Martin Luther King, Jr. Day has been moved to a different date, and tells his Upper East Side co-op's doorman (John Goodman) that Presidents' Day has changed too. Irritating, fallible narration aside, Horn does a good job being a twerp. And in any case what's best about Extremely Loud are its small pleasures, like its strong supporting cast: Zoe Caldwell as Oskar's grandmother; Max von Sydow as his mute estranged grandfather; The Help's Viola Davis as Abby Black, the first stop on the boy's quest to discover the lock for a mysterious key found in his father's closet; and Jeffrey Wright as Abby's ex-husband. And how about all that location shooting? What was your favorite nod to New York City geography? And how do you think Philadelphians feel about being the butt of one of this adaptation's many clumsily over-emphasized metaphors?
So I guess this is when people start saying that Lana Del Rey's handlers and image consultants and lawyers and rich fathers coached her on the art of the televised performance. After the SNL debacle from a few weeks back, LDR gave it another go last night on Late Night With David Letterman with a performance of "Video Games." To say the very least, she sounded better: she all but did away with the ridiculous and infuriating baby-voice, and she wisely let the vocal melody sit in a range where she's comfortable, rather than taking it higher and lower than she's actually capable of, a trap she'd fallen deeply into of late. There were some really nice moments throughout—the small adjustments she's made to the song's melody are subtle and perfect for the stripped down arrangement. She seemed more comfortable this time around, and she was perfectly grateful and gracious when Dave and Paul started creepily fawning over her at the end. In short, if my parents had seen this performance, they probably would have though nothing of it it, maybe even liked it a little bit, rather than watching in horror and then calling me up the next morning for an explanation like they did after SNL. This is progress. Granted, it's the kind of progress one generally makes before appearing on Saturday Night Live and Letterman, but it's progress all the same.
Brooklyn-based artist Leon Reid IV—he of "Tourist-in-Chief" and proposed public sculptures of a giant squirrel in a park and a giant spider in the Brooklyn Bridge's suspension cables—has teamed up with Brooklyn-based documentary producer Julia Marchesi (The City Dark) to create the "100 Story House," a five-and-a-half feet tall miniature brownstone that they plan to build, install in Cobble Hill Park and fill with books to be borrowed and exchanged by anyone and everyone. The pair just launched a Kickstarter campaign to help fund the project. I asked Reid about the projects' origins, and its more practical concerns, like where the books will come from and what the Department of Parks—which Reid has had problems with in the past—thinks of it.


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Wednesday, he began posting a series of gargantuan survey mixes, one marking each year of the site's life. On the first weekday of each following month, you'll be able to drown yourself in chronologically distinct moments of pop music's recent past. (The first mix also exists as a Spotify playlist.) We talked to Perpetua about his ground-breaking site, the writing career it launched, what all perfect pop songs have in common, and why the 2003 mix is going to be insane.
The L: What goals did you have for Fluxblog when you started the site in 2002?
Matthew Perpetua: I had extremely modest goals in the early days of the site. It was mainly written for an audience of people I knew from around the Internet, mainly from the I Love Music and Barbelith online communities. I was just out of art school and hadn't really considered writing as a career, so it was just something I was doing to kill the time and entertain people who I'd never really met. The first year or so of the site wasn't in the format I developed with mp3 reviews, it was actually more similar to the Fluxblog Tumblr which would eventually be the sidebar of the site. I'm pretty sure the Tumblr is more popular than the regular site these days, though!
How has curating Fluxblog changed your tastes in music?
It made me more open, especially early on. By setting up a requirement to write about a certain number of songs per week — these days, it's generally one song per weekday, though I used to do two songs or more — it made me look outside of comfort zones to find things I might like and want to write about. I used to put the emphasis more on discovery, but it's shifted over time to being more focused on writing, so for the most part I write about what interests me as a writer. Somewhere along the line I felt like the audience I have cares more about me and what I'm writing than in discovering things — there are lots of other, more efficient way to find out the newest possible thing. Which isn't to say that I don't want to write about the newest possible thing, just that I'm not a slave to it and don't mind dropping everything to write about some song from a long time ago or a record from the recent past that isn't in a hype cycle anymore.

The push to return ferry service to Bay Ridge reached a peak in 2007-2008, when Heather McCown and her Sunset-Ridge Waterfront Alliance lobbied elected officials and collected signatures, though the plan ultimately fizzled.
The door-to-door of service works like this: whoopie-makers can scope out items online, then call Babeland to place an order. A receptionist at the shop, which is located on Bergen Street near Flatbush Avenue, then assigns the delivery to a cyclist at the forward-thinking bike messenger company, Clementine Courier. A pedal-grinder then drops a “discreet-looking box” at any address in Brooklyn, usually in less than an hour.
What are the most commonly-ordered items? Hitachi magic wands, lube, and condoms. A $30 delivery fee (!) seems a bit steep just for a lube refill, but hey, who am I to make anyone put pants on? Except hopefully when they answer the door. The whole head-peeking-around-the-door-while-body-isn't-visible is fine for skimpy pjs but doesn't cut it for full nudity, I don't think.
In any case, there's free delivery on Valentine's Day, if you'd like to surprise your date with a strap-on delivery, or whatever.
Yesterday the seminal contemporary American artist Mike Kelley, who was born in Detroit in 1954 and had been based in Los Angeles for many years, was found dead at his home there from an apparent suicide—especially worthwhile obituaries are in the L.A. Times, New York Times, Guardian and on Glenn O'Brien's blog. Working in an incredibly broad range of media from drawings and paintings to video, installation and sculptures made from eviscerated stuffed animals, Kelley rose to prominence in the 1990s. He had recently been selected to participate in the 2012 Whitney Biennial, which will be his eighth. Throughout his many different uses of media and collaborations, perhaps the greatest constant in Kelley's practice was a sharp sense of humor that often incorporated pop culture references and abject imagery. Accordingly, this selection of his funniest work is not for the squeamish.

The L: Can you tell us about your bartending career?
Nino Cirabisi: I started bartending when I was 19. I worked at an Italian restaurant waiting tables and one night the bartender passed out behind the bar from drinking too much and popping pills. I hopped behind the bar not knowing what the hell I was doing and just tried to finish the shift as best I could. I took home a copy of Mr. Boston’s cocktail guide from behind the bar and learned as much as I could.
Sad news today: Don Cornelius, who created, produced, and hosted the influential dance show Soul Train, was found dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound at the age of 75 early this morning. According to Los Angeles Police Department, it appears to be suicide.

Perhaps what's offensive about this video has less to do with the video's "explicit" nature (c'mon, Lady Gaga shows us just as much skin), and all to do with the fact that Nicki Minaj displays and inhabits every degrading female trope in the book—a posing statue to a plasticine barbie, to an animal in a cage to an "innocent" little girl licking a lollipop. Network's perspective aside, the nudity's neither here nor there; the problem is that Nicki's video plays like an action-packed trailer for a misogynist fantasy. BET did not immediately respond to comment for TMZ, so who knows if the execs took that into account when deciding not to air it. Either way, you can decide for yourself and watch it here.
You can follow Sydney Brownstone on Twitter @sydbrownstone
In September of last year MoMA scooped up one of six editions of Christian Marclay's epic video collage "The Clock," which, when it made its New York premiere a year ago at Paula Cooper Gallery, caused long lines to form all along 21st Street even during marathon overnight screenings. Its appeal for museums is obvious, and after LACMA bought the second edition and the Boston MFA and the National Gallery of Canada split the bill for another, three museums have pooled their resources to acquire the fourth edition of the video. Now they'll just need to figure out who gets it on weekends and holidays.