Perhaps you never realized She Mob went away. No matter. She Mob, the band, is back. We started rehearsing again with a new member a few months ago and played a short set with some new songs at the Annual Murder Ballads show at the Starry Plough. And so, from the ashes of mid-90s mid-life crisis, we arise to fill the world with our anti-love songs. People used to ask us 15 years ago why we started a punk-pop band in our 30s and we basically had no answer other than we enjoy it. Do what you enjoy--that's the She Mob way.
She Mob was named after the movie. We actually read the synopsis, named the band, and THEN saw the movie. And it's a bona fide classic. Snippet:
This is really early She Mob from the first album, "Cancel the Wedding." Does anybody even take Prozac anymore? It goes by other names/brands now I suppose.
From the third album, "Not In My World"--Wet Kitten!
I had to leave the band for a while when my son was born. It carried on. Live 2008 show at the Starry Plough with many guest stars in attendance.
Through every incarnation of the band, Joy Sue Hutchinson wears a fine wig onstage, anchoring us with her enthusiasm, talent and fun-building skills.
Who's in She Mob lately?
Suki O'Kane
Joy Sue Hutchinson
Karry Walker
Captive Wild Woman
Alan Korn (on hiatus--he'll be back)
She Mob CDs for sale at CDBaby
Listen to She Mob on MySpace while it still lives
Be our Facebook friend!
Filtered through the brain cells of Lisa McElroy
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Half-ass TV recap: Work of Art, Ep 5
That's right! Work of Art, Ep 5: Ripped from the Headlines! Simon de Pury cheerfully awakens the remaining artists at the ungodly hour of 5:30 A.M. to take a trip to the New York Times printing plant in Queens. This show is very cruel. They're artists, not farm animals. But with minimal grumbling, the sleepy, rumpled creatives ooh and ahh at the rapidly moving newspaper whirlwind all around them.
The artists have ten minutes to pick a headline that will inspire their works of art. All artworks must contain The Times to meet the challenge requirements. Using it as a drop-cloth doesn't count. Kymia is worried because she never reads the paper. Lola wants to win because her mother forced her to read the front page of The Times every Saturday instead of watching cartoons. I can barely get my kid to read at all, unless it's the history of the Titanic, which as "a fan of maritime disasters," is all he'll read about lately. Maybe we can ease him in--start with "Sunday Styles" and take it from there.
Everyone scrambles for headlines except for The Sucklord, who decides to park himself in a corner and simply read the paper. He finds a BP oil-spill story and calls it a day. The rest are flailing about with papers flying in frantic abandon. I hope they got pancakes afterwards. The winner of this challenge will get $20,000 and the winning art will be installed in the lobby of the New York Times building. Wowee wow wow!
They have a day plus a few hours to complete the task (not bad for $20,000 worth of work), so they get to scrambling/creating. Sarah is cutting strips of words, signifying madness, based on a story about a depressed writer. Michelle illustrates all the terrible bruises she sustained from an hit-and-run car/bicycle accident the year before. She's been touched by a story about insurance claims made by victims of crimes. Kymia found a story about the Long Island serial killer and she's structuring a life-sized coffin full of plaster, newspapers and body parts. Kymia--the New York Times won't go for that in their lobby! She's an artist all right.
The Sucklord struggles, starting out with a representation of an actual newspaper page, with cut-outs painted blue, that he'll spill "oil" from. It could work, but mentor Simon de Pury has other ideas. He encourages Sucklord to not be so literal, since that's been a problem with all his work so far, along with using too many Star Wars figurines. Sucklord trashes everything and starts building stacks of money, dripping with "oil" and covered with NY Times paper bands, because, he attempts to claim, the Times did not cover the story thoroughly enough, so they're compliant. Sucklord! That's not going in the Times' lobby either!
Young wants to pay tribute to then-incarcerated artist Ai Weiwei, which on one hand, is a good-will effort, since Ai Weiwei was a political prisoner in China at the time of production and no one knew what the outcome of his imprisonment would be. On the other hand: brilliant headline, Young! The judges, who were all probably wondering where Ai Weiwei was at that moment, will be pleased. He attempts bleaching the paper to instill the notion of censorship but the words are still visible so his alternate plan is tied-up stacks of black-painted newspapers with "Where is Ai Weiwei?" headlines. Now THIS will go in the NY Times lobby, indeed.
Dusty's dark silhouettes of depressed Americans across a crumpled-paper covered U.S. map and Lola's drawing based on photos of Libyan freedom fighters with inadequate weaponry are in the top three with Young's Ai Weiwei stacks. Young wins. Dusty is visibly crushed not to get the $20,000. He was hoping to have another child with Mrs. Dusty back home. But Young will be using the money to help his mom travel to Korea. And she has cancer. So, you know--it's good. Lola's back story isn't as compelling, but I think her drawing and slightly sardonic, distancing hand-written captions should have won. Perhaps if she hadn't included the unexceptional Times-wrapped tools leaning against the wall beneath her illustration, she might have won. Except the contest called for newspaper to be included, so Catch-22. Dusty's work was good, but I've noticed that map-art tends to get passed over in prize-winning situations. Too literal, perhaps, but I thought he made good on his "Darkening Mood in America" headline.
Down in the bottom dregs are Bayeté with some mis-matched golden doors and shiny lettering representing a Dreamgirls review (I think). The door knobs don't match up becuase he painted the wrong side of one of the doors. His lack of carpentry skills at first seems purposeful to the judges but then guest judge Adam McEwen points out that Bayeté's explanation for his work makes it even worse. Originally it was supposed to be some doorway leading to heaven or something. Sad. Sarah's weird leaning cut-out words are deemed meaningless of content. The Sucklord is called to task for his transparent lack of anything going on with his piece. It's like a would-be politically Goth window display from a nonprofit arts foundation in a former appliance-repair shop. Not that I would have seen anything like that while living in pre-dot-com boom San Francisco for 25 years...
Bayeté is out--not bad for a guy who should have lost in the first round with his awful identity art (also featuring money--don't use money or maps, artists!). He seems like a nice guy. Good luck to you, Bayeté! The Sucklord lives for another day!
Next week: Lola gets the "cat-fight edit" by making Kymia cry and then meowing and holding her hand up like a claw. I'd be careful, Lola. Kymia makes serial-killer art, you know.
Today's inspirational work from Work of Art is a tribute to James Van Doren, co-inventor of Vans footwear. His obituary ran in last Sunday's Times. Along with his brother, he engineered a specialized rubber that, along with a diamond-shaped sole pattern, would help sailors stick to the decks of their boats. Subsequently skateboarders in Southern California discovered that Vans helped keep them from falling off their boards. When Sean Penn, playing Spicoli, wore the checkerboard slip-ons in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," a cultural shift in footwear took place. Condolences to James Van Doren's family and friends. I love how he helped accidentally create a fashion/sports trend.
I own a fine pair of Vans that I bought specifically to play drums in (drummers feet gotta stick to the pedals). But I find that they really are rad for scootering too, when I brought Jackson's scooter to school the other day. The big, flat Vans soul acts like a paddle along the sidewalk.
Oil-pastel rubbings of my big Vans.
Close-up featuring a mini-portrait of James Van Doren.
The artists have ten minutes to pick a headline that will inspire their works of art. All artworks must contain The Times to meet the challenge requirements. Using it as a drop-cloth doesn't count. Kymia is worried because she never reads the paper. Lola wants to win because her mother forced her to read the front page of The Times every Saturday instead of watching cartoons. I can barely get my kid to read at all, unless it's the history of the Titanic, which as "a fan of maritime disasters," is all he'll read about lately. Maybe we can ease him in--start with "Sunday Styles" and take it from there. Everyone scrambles for headlines except for The Sucklord, who decides to park himself in a corner and simply read the paper. He finds a BP oil-spill story and calls it a day. The rest are flailing about with papers flying in frantic abandon. I hope they got pancakes afterwards. The winner of this challenge will get $20,000 and the winning art will be installed in the lobby of the New York Times building. Wowee wow wow!
They have a day plus a few hours to complete the task (not bad for $20,000 worth of work), so they get to scrambling/creating. Sarah is cutting strips of words, signifying madness, based on a story about a depressed writer. Michelle illustrates all the terrible bruises she sustained from an hit-and-run car/bicycle accident the year before. She's been touched by a story about insurance claims made by victims of crimes. Kymia found a story about the Long Island serial killer and she's structuring a life-sized coffin full of plaster, newspapers and body parts. Kymia--the New York Times won't go for that in their lobby! She's an artist all right.
The Sucklord struggles, starting out with a representation of an actual newspaper page, with cut-outs painted blue, that he'll spill "oil" from. It could work, but mentor Simon de Pury has other ideas. He encourages Sucklord to not be so literal, since that's been a problem with all his work so far, along with using too many Star Wars figurines. Sucklord trashes everything and starts building stacks of money, dripping with "oil" and covered with NY Times paper bands, because, he attempts to claim, the Times did not cover the story thoroughly enough, so they're compliant. Sucklord! That's not going in the Times' lobby either!
Young wants to pay tribute to then-incarcerated artist Ai Weiwei, which on one hand, is a good-will effort, since Ai Weiwei was a political prisoner in China at the time of production and no one knew what the outcome of his imprisonment would be. On the other hand: brilliant headline, Young! The judges, who were all probably wondering where Ai Weiwei was at that moment, will be pleased. He attempts bleaching the paper to instill the notion of censorship but the words are still visible so his alternate plan is tied-up stacks of black-painted newspapers with "Where is Ai Weiwei?" headlines. Now THIS will go in the NY Times lobby, indeed.
Dusty's dark silhouettes of depressed Americans across a crumpled-paper covered U.S. map and Lola's drawing based on photos of Libyan freedom fighters with inadequate weaponry are in the top three with Young's Ai Weiwei stacks. Young wins. Dusty is visibly crushed not to get the $20,000. He was hoping to have another child with Mrs. Dusty back home. But Young will be using the money to help his mom travel to Korea. And she has cancer. So, you know--it's good. Lola's back story isn't as compelling, but I think her drawing and slightly sardonic, distancing hand-written captions should have won. Perhaps if she hadn't included the unexceptional Times-wrapped tools leaning against the wall beneath her illustration, she might have won. Except the contest called for newspaper to be included, so Catch-22. Dusty's work was good, but I've noticed that map-art tends to get passed over in prize-winning situations. Too literal, perhaps, but I thought he made good on his "Darkening Mood in America" headline.
Down in the bottom dregs are Bayeté with some mis-matched golden doors and shiny lettering representing a Dreamgirls review (I think). The door knobs don't match up becuase he painted the wrong side of one of the doors. His lack of carpentry skills at first seems purposeful to the judges but then guest judge Adam McEwen points out that Bayeté's explanation for his work makes it even worse. Originally it was supposed to be some doorway leading to heaven or something. Sad. Sarah's weird leaning cut-out words are deemed meaningless of content. The Sucklord is called to task for his transparent lack of anything going on with his piece. It's like a would-be politically Goth window display from a nonprofit arts foundation in a former appliance-repair shop. Not that I would have seen anything like that while living in pre-dot-com boom San Francisco for 25 years...
Bayeté is out--not bad for a guy who should have lost in the first round with his awful identity art (also featuring money--don't use money or maps, artists!). He seems like a nice guy. Good luck to you, Bayeté! The Sucklord lives for another day!
Next week: Lola gets the "cat-fight edit" by making Kymia cry and then meowing and holding her hand up like a claw. I'd be careful, Lola. Kymia makes serial-killer art, you know.
Today's inspirational work from Work of Art is a tribute to James Van Doren, co-inventor of Vans footwear. His obituary ran in last Sunday's Times. Along with his brother, he engineered a specialized rubber that, along with a diamond-shaped sole pattern, would help sailors stick to the decks of their boats. Subsequently skateboarders in Southern California discovered that Vans helped keep them from falling off their boards. When Sean Penn, playing Spicoli, wore the checkerboard slip-ons in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," a cultural shift in footwear took place. Condolences to James Van Doren's family and friends. I love how he helped accidentally create a fashion/sports trend.
I own a fine pair of Vans that I bought specifically to play drums in (drummers feet gotta stick to the pedals). But I find that they really are rad for scootering too, when I brought Jackson's scooter to school the other day. The big, flat Vans soul acts like a paddle along the sidewalk.
Oil-pastel rubbings of my big Vans.
Close-up featuring a mini-portrait of James Van Doren.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Future Fashion of Yesterday--Today!
One of the pleasures of sci-fi films is noting the speculation of the look of future societies, always a reflection of the time at production. If you were watching sci-fi in the 1960s, you learned that people of our time were to be decked out in bubble hats, mini-dresses and jumpsuits while walking down pristine white corridors toward brightly lit chambers full of blinking room-sized computers. No one thought that technology might be getting smaller and smaller. Or that we'd all be emulating sloppy 70s wear. Well, except for Woody Allen in "Sleeper," who envisioned an autodidactic U.S. full of junk-food-eating consciousness-raising lay-abouts.
Today we will explore fashion predictors of the distant past and their vision for our present look of today. Brought to you by Exit to Tomorrow by Andrew Garn, Paola Antonelli, Udo Kultermann and Stephen Van Dyke--a collaborative effort on Universe Press that covers the architecture, design and fashion of World's Fairs from 1933 to 2005. (I found this book at Half Price Books--a full-color futuristic steal!).
The first thing you need to know, is that in 1939, designer Walter Dorwin Teague saw ladies of 2000 wearing see-through clothes, due to "universal air conditioning and better bodies." Makes sense to me! Must have been an anomaly though--not everyone lives in a warm climate, Walter Dorwin Teague. And what about formal wear?
Look no further! Designer Henry Dreyfuss not only envisioned a see-through evening-gown future, but predicted that women would want to dress as dolls, complete with personal fan/compact at their disposal. I'm beginning to think the World's Fair was kind of an excuse for soft-porn wishful thinking. Prove me wrong!
Oh, OK. So menswear is not see-through. Not at all, despite central air and "better bodies." This guy has an antennae-snatching radio hat and his socks are disposable. I'm getting turned on all right.
Through the magic of YouTube and today's high-speed Internet connections, we can watch these future visions in action in the short film "Clothing of the Future, the Year 2000."
I hope you found that inspiring. Let's take a look at future outerwear of 1939's World's Fair. What's in store for us? Heat-generating coat-linings? Emergency shelter supplies in a secret pocket?
No, it's see-through! I imagine Harvey Gibson, chairman of the board of the New York World's Fair, was saying something along the lines of, "Your futuristic underpants are simply divine, Miss!" And so they are!
Montreal's '67 World's Fair would have us matching our clothing to nearby architecture. Ooh, I'd hate to be standing next to the former AAA building in San Francisco when this trend comes into play.
Jump ahead to the 1970 Osaka World's Fair. What's the fashion story? Looks like head-to-toe metallics are in! And buildings are laughing. Still waiting for these trends to fully kick in.
We've bypassed the year 2000. What are we going to wear? According to Japan's 2005 World's Fair, nobody cares because the future belongs to sexy mini-skirted, go-go boots-wearing robots in support pantyhose. Maybe there's still time to revive the see-through gown phenomenon before the robots completely take over.
Today we will explore fashion predictors of the distant past and their vision for our present look of today. Brought to you by Exit to Tomorrow by Andrew Garn, Paola Antonelli, Udo Kultermann and Stephen Van Dyke--a collaborative effort on Universe Press that covers the architecture, design and fashion of World's Fairs from 1933 to 2005. (I found this book at Half Price Books--a full-color futuristic steal!).
The first thing you need to know, is that in 1939, designer Walter Dorwin Teague saw ladies of 2000 wearing see-through clothes, due to "universal air conditioning and better bodies." Makes sense to me! Must have been an anomaly though--not everyone lives in a warm climate, Walter Dorwin Teague. And what about formal wear?
Look no further! Designer Henry Dreyfuss not only envisioned a see-through evening-gown future, but predicted that women would want to dress as dolls, complete with personal fan/compact at their disposal. I'm beginning to think the World's Fair was kind of an excuse for soft-porn wishful thinking. Prove me wrong!
Oh, OK. So menswear is not see-through. Not at all, despite central air and "better bodies." This guy has an antennae-snatching radio hat and his socks are disposable. I'm getting turned on all right.
Through the magic of YouTube and today's high-speed Internet connections, we can watch these future visions in action in the short film "Clothing of the Future, the Year 2000."
I hope you found that inspiring. Let's take a look at future outerwear of 1939's World's Fair. What's in store for us? Heat-generating coat-linings? Emergency shelter supplies in a secret pocket?
No, it's see-through! I imagine Harvey Gibson, chairman of the board of the New York World's Fair, was saying something along the lines of, "Your futuristic underpants are simply divine, Miss!" And so they are!
Montreal's '67 World's Fair would have us matching our clothing to nearby architecture. Ooh, I'd hate to be standing next to the former AAA building in San Francisco when this trend comes into play.
Jump ahead to the 1970 Osaka World's Fair. What's the fashion story? Looks like head-to-toe metallics are in! And buildings are laughing. Still waiting for these trends to fully kick in.
We've bypassed the year 2000. What are we going to wear? According to Japan's 2005 World's Fair, nobody cares because the future belongs to sexy mini-skirted, go-go boots-wearing robots in support pantyhose. Maybe there's still time to revive the see-through gown phenomenon before the robots completely take over.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Kid Art, get yer kid art here
Yup, I'm posting my kid's art. Why? Because it's so exuberant. If you don't agree, then you may be in a coma. If you're feeling comatose, perhaps some kid art will help. Jackson's going through a phase where he hates everything he draws upon completion. It's tough because he truly is a great artist (as most kids are), and his personality always comes through no matter what he's drawing, And because I love his personality so much, I love his art so much as well. But I'd love it anyway. Maybe you will too.
If you have a kid who refuses to make art, get some Mr. Sketch scented watercolor markers
. They smell like blueberries and cinnamon and such and they make kids want to draw. The colors are rich too, although Jackson reports that the felt-tips themselves are "a little scratchy."
Freaked-out adults who don't want their children sniffing pens--I understand. I'm always catching Jackson trying to smell chemically packed drawing supplies, such as Sharpies and dry-erase markers. That's bad. But I guess we'll use it as a teaching moment and hope the brain damage is minimal.
I once made a Disney Pirates of the Caribbean model kit (Dead Man's Raft) with my friend Pam, and once she broke out her brother's airplane glue, it was all over for us. Much stomach-cramping laughter and rolling around on the carpet of their empty living room ensued before we realized that we were totally high on fumes. Actually we didn't realize that until years later. Sometimes kids are just high on life and it's hard to tell the difference.
Anyway, why was their living room empty? Because back in my day, many of our neighbors couldn't afford to furnish all the rooms in their newly built suburban tract homes. And rather than go into credit-card debt, they simply waited a few years to buy the necessary couches, chairs, window treatments and coffee tables. These empty spaces were excellent areas for kids to have slumber parties, play hours of Monopoly, or accidentally inhale glue. Quite a difference from today's home-owner attitude of, "We'll have to gut and update the entire house upon moving in." How did I get on this tangent? Art: it brings out the social critic in me.
If you have a kid who refuses to make art, get some Mr. Sketch scented watercolor markers
. They smell like blueberries and cinnamon and such and they make kids want to draw. The colors are rich too, although Jackson reports that the felt-tips themselves are "a little scratchy." Freaked-out adults who don't want their children sniffing pens--I understand. I'm always catching Jackson trying to smell chemically packed drawing supplies, such as Sharpies and dry-erase markers. That's bad. But I guess we'll use it as a teaching moment and hope the brain damage is minimal.
I once made a Disney Pirates of the Caribbean model kit (Dead Man's Raft) with my friend Pam, and once she broke out her brother's airplane glue, it was all over for us. Much stomach-cramping laughter and rolling around on the carpet of their empty living room ensued before we realized that we were totally high on fumes. Actually we didn't realize that until years later. Sometimes kids are just high on life and it's hard to tell the difference.
Anyway, why was their living room empty? Because back in my day, many of our neighbors couldn't afford to furnish all the rooms in their newly built suburban tract homes. And rather than go into credit-card debt, they simply waited a few years to buy the necessary couches, chairs, window treatments and coffee tables. These empty spaces were excellent areas for kids to have slumber parties, play hours of Monopoly, or accidentally inhale glue. Quite a difference from today's home-owner attitude of, "We'll have to gut and update the entire house upon moving in." How did I get on this tangent? Art: it brings out the social critic in me.
Thursday, November 03, 2011
Half-ass TV recap: Work of Art Season Two-fer, Ep 3 and 4
I couldn't bring myself to review Work of Art two weeks ago, hot on the heels of too many Work of Art recaps already. This is the problem of being the sole writer around here. Sometimes there's too much recapping to do and not enough time to do it in. And...nobody cares.
So without further ado, here's a very brief rundown of Episode 3: Make it Pop. As you might surmise, the young artists are instructed to create a piece based on pop art. They are led into a warehouse by a trail of shiny tin cans where they find host China Chow dressed in blue-munchkin finery with ascending buttons down her front. There's also a Campbell's Soup Can portrait by Andy Warhol, looking fiiiine, next to mentor Simon de Pury. Unfortunately the cans, portrait, and China's dress will be the most compelling works of art in the entire episode, so c'mon along with me as we relive the moment. (China Chow as a giant hamster in her cute munchkin dress next to a Warhol is my pop-art contribution.)
Cutting to the chase: Young Sun wins with his billboard-inspired "Prop 8" interactive piece. He leaves the back available with Sharpies so gallery patrons can write their opinions on Prop 8. This is a brilliant move because the winner of this challenge will get their work published in Entertainment Weekly and because he purposely doesn't put his opinion on the piece (although, as a gay man, we can surmise), he makes sure that the Prop 8 application is big and bold and reprintable.
Kymia is in second place with a close-up photo of her boobs as backdrop for a bottle of dirty water. It's sex and advertising and pollution, all in one. She laments she wishes she had known that the winning work of art would be in a national magazine, before she started photographing herself naked. And not surprisingly, she is not the winner. But if you want to see lots of shots of Kymia's boobs, this is the episode for you. Although Bravo could not bring itself to air Michelle's wooden-dowel sculpture of an erect penis the week before, boobs are no problem. Censorship: it's complex.
Double-elimination losers are Jazz-Minh with her failed attempt at Britney Spears celebrity self-portraiture, and Leon, whose glassy American Flag covered in corporate logos, fails to personalize his pop-art experience. The judges would rather Jazz-Minh had simply used a photo of her "bite me" lip tattoo. At the San Francisco Art Institute, I saw art like that practically every day. Leon's idea is tired but the judges manage not to yawn. Judge Bill Powers wants to know why Leon, as a deaf person, didn't address the added communication component of Facebook, since he threw the logo in there. What the what?
Dusty and Michelle are also in the bottom with a fast-food garbage can of shame and too-derivative Coke-can Warhol homage, respectively. China asks why Dusty didn't use bright, poppy colors on his "How Could You" bin and he and all of us in the audience must then spend a wasted moment, trying to imagine a colorful trash container for a moment. Nope--that didn't work either. I wonder if he'd had a couple of trays, mustard stains and more caustic message on the door flap, such as "Garbage In Garbage Out," would that have made it "pop"? Probably people would have thrown their trash in it and that would have at least kept the gallery clean.
So, pop art is pretty much a snore-fest. Asking a disparate group of young artists to create a work of pop is a lousy proposition if none of them work in the medium already. It's one of those movements that worked for a handful of people and puzzled most everyone else, who eventually jumped on the bandwagon, then jumped off again. Only Sucklord, who deals in mass-produced toy art, has much of a background in pop, and his consumer products based on Charlie Sheen rants, were probably dated even as the show taped. Are you all hipster attitude without the hipster cred, Sucklord? We shall see.
No point in complaining though. People get really mad at this show and its so-far sub par art masterpieces. They swear on Internet recap blogs never to watch again, but to them I say this: go pound sand. I doubt most people could have aced this challenge to a successful degree. Pop does best as a festering obsession, not as a day-and-a-half challenge. It was too open-ended to truly inspire. Although, as you can see, my kid was making Coke-inspired designs before he was two years old. We used to find these curved soda-can line-ups going all the way down our hall, with Cokes leading to Sprites leading to Mountain Dews as you walked throughout the house. We had him assessed and doctors assured us he's fine, just focused, I guess.
That brings us to Episode 4: Back to School. Now this is a successful challenge. A bunch of kids are in the studio, hanging around their precocious kid art when the contestants are led in. Shock and awe follow as each artists confronts an underage kid artist. The challenge: make a work of art based on the kid art, but make it gallery ready. The winning piece will be auctioned by mentor Simon de Pury with proceeds going to a city art program. Whoo! Kid art!
Confronted by earnest, imaginative little people, the artists are galvanized into action. Sarah makes a clever shadowbox whose figures dance around with the aid of a hidden light and fan. As in all the previous weeks, she's deemed safe so we barely get to see her work or story or anything. Her biggest narrative thread is laughing hysterically at Young, who's jumping around in front of a camera in his underwear (based on his portfolio, he does this quite a bit), to prep for his birdman piece, based on a colorful bird mobile. He's safe.
Sucklord is touchingly hopeful that his tree-sculpture of secret worlds piece will live up to his artist's tree drawing. It doesn't. It starts out well, but ends up a last-minute mess. He tried. Judge Jerry Saltz promises to go "medievel" on Sucklord if he finds him working with Star Wars figurines again. What a strange battle that would be. Sucklord mentally crosses off George Lucas figures from his roster of toy muses.
Lola is spooked by mentor Simon de Pury's criticism of her doodly flower/mountain drawing, and she ends up making an even bigger mess than Sucklord. Flowery, scribbles over flower photos. Somehow she's safe. Also spooked by a de Pury brow furrow during mentor-time, Michelle alters her swan with bloody poked-out eyeballs paper sculpture (based on a simple drawing of eyes) to a very weird, fairy-tale-like sculpture of an ogre-like creature, peeking out from some kind of greenery shapes. She's so odd. I like her ability to fold paper many times over.
Dusty is on top with an interactive door-hinged wall hanging that acts as a visual biography of his young artist. Dusty can really build stuff. I admire that. And he's a fifth-grade art teacher, so he taps into child art immediately. But he doesn't win. Kymia clinches with a detailed pen-and-ink portrait of a dead girl on a beach, covered in birds (I think that's what it is--hard to see and impossible to read on the Bravo site, probably due to copyright issues), with a little carrot sticking out of her mouth. What? You had to be there. Her young artist gave her a still life of a carrot on a beach and Kymia kept probing until her artist gave up a crazy imaginative story about the girl who ate everything in sight and died. That was clever of Kymia, who had so little to work with initially. She can obviously draw extremely well. Kudos.
Bottom three: Sara has a major emotional breakdown as she recounts her parents' divorce when she was ten years old. She nearly forgets her young artist's exuberant, large-scale word-stamped color piece (with its emphasis on her favorite word, "Chocolate"), and goes for a tiny triptych, outlining the affair, "divorse," and subsequent love child that followed. The judges are visibly disturbed by her crying jag during critique. Judge Bill Powers suggests they bypass the content of her art and go for the style instead. That was a good idea. Guest judge and executive producer of the show, Sarah Jessica Parker, wonders why Sara didn't just make a piece of art based on the ten-year-old she wishes she could have been. That is such an actressy way of looking at things, isn't it?
Tewz is called on the floor for his crumbly concrete "GROW" letters with green plant-like shoots sticking through the cracks. He wants to show how living things manage to thrive, even in city concrete, but the judges are like, "eh." Sucklord gives an impassioned speech, saying Tewz's work has balls. But the judges are all, "Naaah." Maybe if he had made a concrete sculpture, rather than those literal "GROW" letters, the judges would have thought his work had balls. He only had a drawing of a radish on a sidewalk to work from. That must have been tough. Jerry Saltz calls him on his lack of imagination and that's that. No more Tewz.
And now for this week's Work-of-Art-inspiration artwork. I made this last year with an unfinished drawing my kid had discarded. I painted it and added his handwriting, using primitive transfer techniques, and here 'tis. I find it inspiring, though why, I can't say. I think because I helped him like something he had tossed, by simply adding to it until it became something new. When he saw the finished work he said, "I didn't know I could draw that well."
Next week: What could be more inspirational? That's right, newspapers!
So without further ado, here's a very brief rundown of Episode 3: Make it Pop. As you might surmise, the young artists are instructed to create a piece based on pop art. They are led into a warehouse by a trail of shiny tin cans where they find host China Chow dressed in blue-munchkin finery with ascending buttons down her front. There's also a Campbell's Soup Can portrait by Andy Warhol, looking fiiiine, next to mentor Simon de Pury. Unfortunately the cans, portrait, and China's dress will be the most compelling works of art in the entire episode, so c'mon along with me as we relive the moment. (China Chow as a giant hamster in her cute munchkin dress next to a Warhol is my pop-art contribution.)Cutting to the chase: Young Sun wins with his billboard-inspired "Prop 8" interactive piece. He leaves the back available with Sharpies so gallery patrons can write their opinions on Prop 8. This is a brilliant move because the winner of this challenge will get their work published in Entertainment Weekly and because he purposely doesn't put his opinion on the piece (although, as a gay man, we can surmise), he makes sure that the Prop 8 application is big and bold and reprintable.
Kymia is in second place with a close-up photo of her boobs as backdrop for a bottle of dirty water. It's sex and advertising and pollution, all in one. She laments she wishes she had known that the winning work of art would be in a national magazine, before she started photographing herself naked. And not surprisingly, she is not the winner. But if you want to see lots of shots of Kymia's boobs, this is the episode for you. Although Bravo could not bring itself to air Michelle's wooden-dowel sculpture of an erect penis the week before, boobs are no problem. Censorship: it's complex.
Double-elimination losers are Jazz-Minh with her failed attempt at Britney Spears celebrity self-portraiture, and Leon, whose glassy American Flag covered in corporate logos, fails to personalize his pop-art experience. The judges would rather Jazz-Minh had simply used a photo of her "bite me" lip tattoo. At the San Francisco Art Institute, I saw art like that practically every day. Leon's idea is tired but the judges manage not to yawn. Judge Bill Powers wants to know why Leon, as a deaf person, didn't address the added communication component of Facebook, since he threw the logo in there. What the what?
Dusty and Michelle are also in the bottom with a fast-food garbage can of shame and too-derivative Coke-can Warhol homage, respectively. China asks why Dusty didn't use bright, poppy colors on his "How Could You" bin and he and all of us in the audience must then spend a wasted moment, trying to imagine a colorful trash container for a moment. Nope--that didn't work either. I wonder if he'd had a couple of trays, mustard stains and more caustic message on the door flap, such as "Garbage In Garbage Out," would that have made it "pop"? Probably people would have thrown their trash in it and that would have at least kept the gallery clean.
So, pop art is pretty much a snore-fest. Asking a disparate group of young artists to create a work of pop is a lousy proposition if none of them work in the medium already. It's one of those movements that worked for a handful of people and puzzled most everyone else, who eventually jumped on the bandwagon, then jumped off again. Only Sucklord, who deals in mass-produced toy art, has much of a background in pop, and his consumer products based on Charlie Sheen rants, were probably dated even as the show taped. Are you all hipster attitude without the hipster cred, Sucklord? We shall see.
No point in complaining though. People get really mad at this show and its so-far sub par art masterpieces. They swear on Internet recap blogs never to watch again, but to them I say this: go pound sand. I doubt most people could have aced this challenge to a successful degree. Pop does best as a festering obsession, not as a day-and-a-half challenge. It was too open-ended to truly inspire. Although, as you can see, my kid was making Coke-inspired designs before he was two years old. We used to find these curved soda-can line-ups going all the way down our hall, with Cokes leading to Sprites leading to Mountain Dews as you walked throughout the house. We had him assessed and doctors assured us he's fine, just focused, I guess.That brings us to Episode 4: Back to School. Now this is a successful challenge. A bunch of kids are in the studio, hanging around their precocious kid art when the contestants are led in. Shock and awe follow as each artists confronts an underage kid artist. The challenge: make a work of art based on the kid art, but make it gallery ready. The winning piece will be auctioned by mentor Simon de Pury with proceeds going to a city art program. Whoo! Kid art!
Confronted by earnest, imaginative little people, the artists are galvanized into action. Sarah makes a clever shadowbox whose figures dance around with the aid of a hidden light and fan. As in all the previous weeks, she's deemed safe so we barely get to see her work or story or anything. Her biggest narrative thread is laughing hysterically at Young, who's jumping around in front of a camera in his underwear (based on his portfolio, he does this quite a bit), to prep for his birdman piece, based on a colorful bird mobile. He's safe.
Sucklord is touchingly hopeful that his tree-sculpture of secret worlds piece will live up to his artist's tree drawing. It doesn't. It starts out well, but ends up a last-minute mess. He tried. Judge Jerry Saltz promises to go "medievel" on Sucklord if he finds him working with Star Wars figurines again. What a strange battle that would be. Sucklord mentally crosses off George Lucas figures from his roster of toy muses.
Lola is spooked by mentor Simon de Pury's criticism of her doodly flower/mountain drawing, and she ends up making an even bigger mess than Sucklord. Flowery, scribbles over flower photos. Somehow she's safe. Also spooked by a de Pury brow furrow during mentor-time, Michelle alters her swan with bloody poked-out eyeballs paper sculpture (based on a simple drawing of eyes) to a very weird, fairy-tale-like sculpture of an ogre-like creature, peeking out from some kind of greenery shapes. She's so odd. I like her ability to fold paper many times over.
Dusty is on top with an interactive door-hinged wall hanging that acts as a visual biography of his young artist. Dusty can really build stuff. I admire that. And he's a fifth-grade art teacher, so he taps into child art immediately. But he doesn't win. Kymia clinches with a detailed pen-and-ink portrait of a dead girl on a beach, covered in birds (I think that's what it is--hard to see and impossible to read on the Bravo site, probably due to copyright issues), with a little carrot sticking out of her mouth. What? You had to be there. Her young artist gave her a still life of a carrot on a beach and Kymia kept probing until her artist gave up a crazy imaginative story about the girl who ate everything in sight and died. That was clever of Kymia, who had so little to work with initially. She can obviously draw extremely well. Kudos.
Bottom three: Sara has a major emotional breakdown as she recounts her parents' divorce when she was ten years old. She nearly forgets her young artist's exuberant, large-scale word-stamped color piece (with its emphasis on her favorite word, "Chocolate"), and goes for a tiny triptych, outlining the affair, "divorse," and subsequent love child that followed. The judges are visibly disturbed by her crying jag during critique. Judge Bill Powers suggests they bypass the content of her art and go for the style instead. That was a good idea. Guest judge and executive producer of the show, Sarah Jessica Parker, wonders why Sara didn't just make a piece of art based on the ten-year-old she wishes she could have been. That is such an actressy way of looking at things, isn't it?
Tewz is called on the floor for his crumbly concrete "GROW" letters with green plant-like shoots sticking through the cracks. He wants to show how living things manage to thrive, even in city concrete, but the judges are like, "eh." Sucklord gives an impassioned speech, saying Tewz's work has balls. But the judges are all, "Naaah." Maybe if he had made a concrete sculpture, rather than those literal "GROW" letters, the judges would have thought his work had balls. He only had a drawing of a radish on a sidewalk to work from. That must have been tough. Jerry Saltz calls him on his lack of imagination and that's that. No more Tewz.
And now for this week's Work-of-Art-inspiration artwork. I made this last year with an unfinished drawing my kid had discarded. I painted it and added his handwriting, using primitive transfer techniques, and here 'tis. I find it inspiring, though why, I can't say. I think because I helped him like something he had tossed, by simply adding to it until it became something new. When he saw the finished work he said, "I didn't know I could draw that well."
Next week: What could be more inspirational? That's right, newspapers!
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Stephen Colbert delves deep into Occupy Wall Street
Good-naturedly making mince-meat of demonstrators and their earnest hand signals.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Halloween yuks in St. Louis
Did you know that in St. Louis, kids are required to tell a joke on Halloween to get their treats? I never knew! NPR has a story about it and here's a calvacade of kids telling jokes on Halloween in this video.
How did the ghost say good-bye to the vampire? So long sucker!
What did the clown-eating cannibal say? Something tastes funny.
What's a pirate's favorite letter? RRRRRRRRrrrrrr!
Heeyuk!
How did the ghost say good-bye to the vampire? So long sucker!
What did the clown-eating cannibal say? Something tastes funny.
What's a pirate's favorite letter? RRRRRRRRrrrrrr!
Heeyuk!
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Songs about the 1%
Have you seen the news from the front lines of Occupy Oakland? Jesus H. Christ, it's a war zone downtown. Tear gas, rubber bullets, beat-downs--an eruption of brutal violence on what was essentially a peaceful protest. These are dark times for a very large portion of the U.S. population. Don't add to the total darkness, city police departments!
If nothing else, the Occupy movement may cause the 1% to stop focusing on the Democrats and instead change their refrain to, "Get your hands out of my pockets...everybody." What are the songs the wealthy will sing during their sit-ins? Here's a helpful list. I live to serve!
Motorhead - Eat The Rich. From the 1988 film of the same name. The movie was a low-budget satire on class and cannibalism. Though not a box-office winner (satires rarely are), its caustic tone embedded itself into my brain at an impressionable age. RIP, Lemmy, you rocked.
Hall and Oats (and his mustache) - Rich Girl. I didn't understand where this song was coming from, back in '77. I grew up in a Northern Californian suburb full of soon-to-be middle-class families, where the goal was to be as much alike as possible. Or else. If you were too wealthy, like a doctor or a lawyer, you moved to Danville. If you were struggling, it didn't matter as long as you wore the correct clothing and had the right haircut to fit in. When MTV came along, it helped break up the monotony somewhat. But I didn't know any rich people nor did I deal with rich-people problems. I still don't.
The Beatles - Baby You're a Rich Man. A Lennon/McCartney production, supposedly about their manager Brian Epstein, with two melodies because rich people just want more and more—one melody won't do, my dear, won't do at all!
Baby You're a Rich Man - The Beatles from feliXart on Vimeo.
Cyndi Lauper - Money Changes Everything. Oh hey, speaking of which... Man, Cyndi Lauper is fierce. Watch her rise above the audience in a not-so-deluxe garbage can at 4:40 while never losing her tone. I didn't appreciate her during her pop stardom. There were lots of women to watch in the 80s musical landscape. I just saw her on a "My Life on the D-List" episode and she was a hoot--a true individual.
Kanye West with Jamie Foxx - Gold Digger. See? Money just brings on a whole set of enviable problems that most of us can only fantasize and/or completely care less about. Plus, if you're extra-wealthy, Lemmy wants to EAT you! That can't be good.
Funkadelic - Funky Dollar Bill. The things we do for a dollar bill. Some of my past jobs: baby-, dog- and housesitter, housecleaner, telemarketer for bowling lessons and unaccredited reading-comprehension courses, ice cream scooper for a psychopath, busboy for more psychopaths, sandwich-maker, office temp on an epic scale, nonprofit arts administrator and live/work housing database operator, development assistant for private art school, after-school art teacher, preschool teacher, continuity and editing assistant for film shoots, arts journalist, freelance photographer, cartoonist, film-archivist assistant, childcare library administrator, editor, Web designer and content provider, housewife, Internet toiler, to be continued...
Oh PLEASE let the 1% make The Flying Lizards' version of Money be their official protest song. This is all I ask of the cultural cosmos.
If nothing else, the Occupy movement may cause the 1% to stop focusing on the Democrats and instead change their refrain to, "Get your hands out of my pockets...everybody." What are the songs the wealthy will sing during their sit-ins? Here's a helpful list. I live to serve!
Motorhead - Eat The Rich. From the 1988 film of the same name. The movie was a low-budget satire on class and cannibalism. Though not a box-office winner (satires rarely are), its caustic tone embedded itself into my brain at an impressionable age. RIP, Lemmy, you rocked.
Hall and Oats (and his mustache) - Rich Girl. I didn't understand where this song was coming from, back in '77. I grew up in a Northern Californian suburb full of soon-to-be middle-class families, where the goal was to be as much alike as possible. Or else. If you were too wealthy, like a doctor or a lawyer, you moved to Danville. If you were struggling, it didn't matter as long as you wore the correct clothing and had the right haircut to fit in. When MTV came along, it helped break up the monotony somewhat. But I didn't know any rich people nor did I deal with rich-people problems. I still don't.
The Beatles - Baby You're a Rich Man. A Lennon/McCartney production, supposedly about their manager Brian Epstein, with two melodies because rich people just want more and more—one melody won't do, my dear, won't do at all!
Baby You're a Rich Man - The Beatles from feliXart on Vimeo.
Cyndi Lauper - Money Changes Everything. Oh hey, speaking of which... Man, Cyndi Lauper is fierce. Watch her rise above the audience in a not-so-deluxe garbage can at 4:40 while never losing her tone. I didn't appreciate her during her pop stardom. There were lots of women to watch in the 80s musical landscape. I just saw her on a "My Life on the D-List" episode and she was a hoot--a true individual.
Kanye West with Jamie Foxx - Gold Digger. See? Money just brings on a whole set of enviable problems that most of us can only fantasize and/or completely care less about. Plus, if you're extra-wealthy, Lemmy wants to EAT you! That can't be good.
Funkadelic - Funky Dollar Bill. The things we do for a dollar bill. Some of my past jobs: baby-, dog- and housesitter, housecleaner, telemarketer for bowling lessons and unaccredited reading-comprehension courses, ice cream scooper for a psychopath, busboy for more psychopaths, sandwich-maker, office temp on an epic scale, nonprofit arts administrator and live/work housing database operator, development assistant for private art school, after-school art teacher, preschool teacher, continuity and editing assistant for film shoots, arts journalist, freelance photographer, cartoonist, film-archivist assistant, childcare library administrator, editor, Web designer and content provider, housewife, Internet toiler, to be continued...
Oh PLEASE let the 1% make The Flying Lizards' version of Money be their official protest song. This is all I ask of the cultural cosmos.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sun Ra, Brother From Another Planet
A fascinating BBC documentary about a fascinating musician and composer. Were you lucky enough to see Sun Ra and his Arkestra? I hope so. Sometimes they played the most dissonant, industrial mad noise. Sometimes they'd endlessly jam and you'd almost see colors. Sometimes they played straight up jazz improv of the most accomplished sort. And they were very, very together. Many individuals playing as one.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Half-ass TV recap: Work of Art Season 2, episode 2
What's this? ANOTHER half-ass TV recap? Two in a ROW? I'm sorry, but here at half-ass TV recap headquarters, there are no rules. There is only television. So the votes are in and this week's episode was a true crap-fest of bad concepts, bad teamwork and ultimately bad art. But no worries, America. The quality of construction is not the focus here. Work of Art is looking for lightning-quick thinkers and creative innovators who are up to ludicrous demands on their sanity and time. So far, this cast is grasping, but I have faith that one or two will get it together at some point in TV seasonal time.
Where was I? Yes. Work of Art, Episode 2 opens with everyone's favorite morning activity, Parkour. The artists are gathered to watch some guys run and bounce off the edifices of New York City and then sit on a wall, breathing heavily afterward. The team (uh-oh) challenge: Movement. Demonstrate movement in art in two group shows. They have a day and a few extra hours to complete this task. I'm thinking: giant mobiles, hanging sculptures, mini-generators powered by hamsters, modern dance (aiee), projectiles, you know: movement. Here's what the teams come up with: Poop. And: Phases of the Moon as Represented by Migration Patterns from the Asian Continent. You know, movement.
So Team Poop, or Digestion, as they redub themselves, get to work on poop-inspired art. The Sucklord is skeptical. "How does this involve movement?" he asks to his oblivious teammates. The answer: it's slow movement. Over at Team Phases of the Moon/Immigration Studies, I don't exactly know what's happening except Kathryn is beavering away at what looks like a bloody stomach, hanging in a box with a camera trained on it, in case it moves. Note that Kathryn has only shown work before and during episode 1 that involves guts, blood and fluids, made from clay, plastic and what-not. This is her thing. Team Moon should have traded her to Team Digestion at this point, but it's not baseball. Always remember that. Art is not baseball--don't try to make it something it's not (talking to myself here).
Mentor Simon de Pury steps in and happily begins studying the ongoing work. His happy-face falls almost immediately and he calls a solemn meeting where he tells one and all in his charming Swiss/British/French accent to scrap everything and start over. And to make sure it's Brrrrilliant! Whoa. The artists handle this two ways: they start over or they just keep going in the same direction. Artists are like that.
Team Digestion switches to Team Playground and starts developing childlike rides, except for last week's winner (and immunity grantee) Michelle, who sculpts a wooden man with wooden balls, sitting near a photographed playground. When you pull his balls, his arms flap up and presumably so does his dowel-like penis. Bravo won't show the penile movement in order to shield our delicate sensibilities. I've never seen a dowel move like an erection, Bravo, but now I'm even MORE intrigued and will try this at home. Your censorship has only piqued my curiosity that much more. Not really.
The Sucklord creates a game that shoots things into funnels that trigger rat-traps with toy rats in them. It looks kind of fun to play actually. Score one for The Sucklord. Sara makes a swinging-girl sculpture with a vagina. Bravo has no qualms about giving us a closeup on the vagina. Double-standard standards, I guess. Dusty makes a teeter-totter with his portrait on one side because he misses his family. Later, host China Chow will attempt to ride this contraption in her floofy designer dress, adding a layer of meaning that has no meaning.
Over at the other team, they've altered their concept to circles. Team Circles sneers at Team Playground, calling their efforts, "childish" and "literal." Kathryn has stuck to her guns (guts) and is now filming splatting innards onto plastic. This will loop into endless splat. It turns out she suffers from Crohn's Disease and can't seem to stop creating this particular vision. This is too bad on a few levels. First of all, anyone who has Crohn's Disease, I am immediately moved to wish them well and to advise them not to join reality-show casts, as they are stressful and stress sets off Crohn's symptoms, which are painful and very difficult to treat. Kathryn realizes this as she is shown swallowing her daily pills while experiencing a flare-up of her disease. She is looking very pale, which is a Crohn's symptom. And she can't stop making internal-organ art, which will hurt her and her team, who are focused on the concept, however ludicrous, of moving circles.
Gallery show time! Team Playground has an interactive thing going on where people are playing with the stuff and watching it mostly move in various ways. Team Circles or Loop, or whatever they try calling themselves, is really sad. Young Sun has made a limply hanging Mylar(?) Japanese flag that's supposed to represent Japan, post-typhoon. What the fuck? Lola glue-gunned a billion doctor-office paper shreds into a big ball that just sits there, attached to some kind of hanging blob that just hangs there. Leon made a tableau with broken window, swinging light bulb and some fallen debris. It's well put-together, I suppose. And the light bulb is a circle shape.
The judges are aghast. Really--they look crestfallen, having to critique this work. Ha ha ha! They pick Michelle with her pervert sculpture and Bayete's video, WEEEE! as top finalists. Bayete's simple video of himself spinning on a rooftop, is the winner. The video has side-by-side images of Bayete, focusing on his face as the city spins behind him. Judge Bill Powers finds it "oddly mesmerizing." Jerry Saltz wonders how it was made. Bayete looks like he's having childlike fun, even though in reality he was dizzy and felt like throwing up the entire time he made the piece. I've spun around for art with my son for this effect for a photo assignment and it is fun and I almost threw up too. I'm not going to tell the judges that this is a simple method to combine sharp-focus with motion-blur. Let them wonder. It does work well for this challenge. Congratulations, Bayete.
Bottom three are Lola and her shredded balls, Kathryn and her looping guts, and Tewz, who made a stagnant modern piece with a cylinder, some tubing and a plastic hand that's supposed to spin around, but just hangs there, sadly. Tewz thinks his sculpture is really good. The judges are all like, WHAT?!??!? Guest judge and last-season regular, Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn, finds their focus on circles, "Ridiculous." Ya think?
During Kathryn's critique, Jerry calls her on her inability to do anything other than what she does and she bursts into uncontrolled sobbing. It's really bad. The judges and host China Chow look like they'd prefer to go to commercial. We do. And when we return: Kathryn is out. She will focus on getting better and continuing to make her art (taking Jerry's critique into account) while having visceral experiences. Stay well, Kathryn.
And now, artwork coincidentally inspired by this week's Work of Art. A few weeks ago, my son wanted to make a video. He picked the tune and improv'd this. Note that his work contains movement, circles and actual play. Unfortunately, like Kathryn, he has Crohn's Disease. He's a brave and inspiring person and a hell of a hula-hooper.
Where was I? Yes. Work of Art, Episode 2 opens with everyone's favorite morning activity, Parkour. The artists are gathered to watch some guys run and bounce off the edifices of New York City and then sit on a wall, breathing heavily afterward. The team (uh-oh) challenge: Movement. Demonstrate movement in art in two group shows. They have a day and a few extra hours to complete this task. I'm thinking: giant mobiles, hanging sculptures, mini-generators powered by hamsters, modern dance (aiee), projectiles, you know: movement. Here's what the teams come up with: Poop. And: Phases of the Moon as Represented by Migration Patterns from the Asian Continent. You know, movement.So Team Poop, or Digestion, as they redub themselves, get to work on poop-inspired art. The Sucklord is skeptical. "How does this involve movement?" he asks to his oblivious teammates. The answer: it's slow movement. Over at Team Phases of the Moon/Immigration Studies, I don't exactly know what's happening except Kathryn is beavering away at what looks like a bloody stomach, hanging in a box with a camera trained on it, in case it moves. Note that Kathryn has only shown work before and during episode 1 that involves guts, blood and fluids, made from clay, plastic and what-not. This is her thing. Team Moon should have traded her to Team Digestion at this point, but it's not baseball. Always remember that. Art is not baseball--don't try to make it something it's not (talking to myself here).
Mentor Simon de Pury steps in and happily begins studying the ongoing work. His happy-face falls almost immediately and he calls a solemn meeting where he tells one and all in his charming Swiss/British/French accent to scrap everything and start over. And to make sure it's Brrrrilliant! Whoa. The artists handle this two ways: they start over or they just keep going in the same direction. Artists are like that.
Team Digestion switches to Team Playground and starts developing childlike rides, except for last week's winner (and immunity grantee) Michelle, who sculpts a wooden man with wooden balls, sitting near a photographed playground. When you pull his balls, his arms flap up and presumably so does his dowel-like penis. Bravo won't show the penile movement in order to shield our delicate sensibilities. I've never seen a dowel move like an erection, Bravo, but now I'm even MORE intrigued and will try this at home. Your censorship has only piqued my curiosity that much more. Not really.
The Sucklord creates a game that shoots things into funnels that trigger rat-traps with toy rats in them. It looks kind of fun to play actually. Score one for The Sucklord. Sara makes a swinging-girl sculpture with a vagina. Bravo has no qualms about giving us a closeup on the vagina. Double-standard standards, I guess. Dusty makes a teeter-totter with his portrait on one side because he misses his family. Later, host China Chow will attempt to ride this contraption in her floofy designer dress, adding a layer of meaning that has no meaning.
Over at the other team, they've altered their concept to circles. Team Circles sneers at Team Playground, calling their efforts, "childish" and "literal." Kathryn has stuck to her guns (guts) and is now filming splatting innards onto plastic. This will loop into endless splat. It turns out she suffers from Crohn's Disease and can't seem to stop creating this particular vision. This is too bad on a few levels. First of all, anyone who has Crohn's Disease, I am immediately moved to wish them well and to advise them not to join reality-show casts, as they are stressful and stress sets off Crohn's symptoms, which are painful and very difficult to treat. Kathryn realizes this as she is shown swallowing her daily pills while experiencing a flare-up of her disease. She is looking very pale, which is a Crohn's symptom. And she can't stop making internal-organ art, which will hurt her and her team, who are focused on the concept, however ludicrous, of moving circles.
Gallery show time! Team Playground has an interactive thing going on where people are playing with the stuff and watching it mostly move in various ways. Team Circles or Loop, or whatever they try calling themselves, is really sad. Young Sun has made a limply hanging Mylar(?) Japanese flag that's supposed to represent Japan, post-typhoon. What the fuck? Lola glue-gunned a billion doctor-office paper shreds into a big ball that just sits there, attached to some kind of hanging blob that just hangs there. Leon made a tableau with broken window, swinging light bulb and some fallen debris. It's well put-together, I suppose. And the light bulb is a circle shape.
The judges are aghast. Really--they look crestfallen, having to critique this work. Ha ha ha! They pick Michelle with her pervert sculpture and Bayete's video, WEEEE! as top finalists. Bayete's simple video of himself spinning on a rooftop, is the winner. The video has side-by-side images of Bayete, focusing on his face as the city spins behind him. Judge Bill Powers finds it "oddly mesmerizing." Jerry Saltz wonders how it was made. Bayete looks like he's having childlike fun, even though in reality he was dizzy and felt like throwing up the entire time he made the piece. I've spun around for art with my son for this effect for a photo assignment and it is fun and I almost threw up too. I'm not going to tell the judges that this is a simple method to combine sharp-focus with motion-blur. Let them wonder. It does work well for this challenge. Congratulations, Bayete.
Bottom three are Lola and her shredded balls, Kathryn and her looping guts, and Tewz, who made a stagnant modern piece with a cylinder, some tubing and a plastic hand that's supposed to spin around, but just hangs there, sadly. Tewz thinks his sculpture is really good. The judges are all like, WHAT?!??!? Guest judge and last-season regular, Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn, finds their focus on circles, "Ridiculous." Ya think?
During Kathryn's critique, Jerry calls her on her inability to do anything other than what she does and she bursts into uncontrolled sobbing. It's really bad. The judges and host China Chow look like they'd prefer to go to commercial. We do. And when we return: Kathryn is out. She will focus on getting better and continuing to make her art (taking Jerry's critique into account) while having visceral experiences. Stay well, Kathryn.
And now, artwork coincidentally inspired by this week's Work of Art. A few weeks ago, my son wanted to make a video. He picked the tune and improv'd this. Note that his work contains movement, circles and actual play. Unfortunately, like Kathryn, he has Crohn's Disease. He's a brave and inspiring person and a hell of a hula-hooper.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Half-ass TV recap: Work of Art, ep 1 and Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Season 2
Hi everyone! I've been missing in action around here, but not for lack of trying. I was truly blocked this week with lots of real-life adventures and live-in-the-moment situations that did not allow for creative blogging as is my wont. And now, it's time for a truly half-ass TV recap that barely counts as a recap at all. Not because the desire isn't there. It is. Oh, yes. But I just don't have any privacy or time to actually watch television and take notes.
So my diabolical plan was to recap every episode of my favorite reality show, Work of Art, Season 2, since I missed out last season. Didn't we all? Work of Art was kind of snuck into the Bravo line-up last year. I don't really remember much promotion for the show. The network almost seemed a bit embarrassed by a fine-art competition. But it turned out to be one of the greatest experiments in entertainment in the 21st Century. A room full of narcissistic creative types, given impossible-to-accomplish challenges using fine-art media and their whackadoo thinking-caps, all in the name of gallery-industry fame and fortune.
Plus New York Magazine's art critic/Work of Art judge Jerry Saltz added even more layers of entertainment with his often self-lacerating blog and its legion of mega-commenters (myself included). Saltz' recaps quoted Goethe and seriously questioned the concept of the show, the commerce of art, and his own role on both counts. How could you not love this show? I ask you. Because Bravo is very stingy with image-sharing from the show (art copyright laws are a bitch), I will provide half-ass line drawings for your visual pleasure.
So episode one of season 2 introduces all the contestant artists, who are looking even prettier than last year. There's no old people (like me), and I can't tell the women apart yet because they're all around the same height, weight, and have straight, longish hair. Not a criticism, but sheesh--last year there was an old person and different body types at least. The guys shuffle in as well. There's a gorgeous French guy named Ugo whose blue eyes during his face-time interviews have me saying, "Hummina, hummina hummina!" There's a guy named The Sucklord, who makes altered action figures. You know he'll be around for a while. There's a performance-artist, Young Sun, who seems to be a prodigy but we'll see. There is nudity and Speedo's when it comes to Young Sun. Leon is from Malaysia and is trying to prove himself as an artist who happens to be deaf. There's more but it's all a blur on the first episode.
The artists are shown a gallery full of crappy, kitschy art pieces and told to pick one and make something high art-ish with the crap as inspiration. It's a glorious beginning! They grab their crap and get cracking. Or some of them do. Lola cannot get it together until the last minute. The judges end up loving her cold, gallery-ready installation of muted paintings and cement structures that represent her longing to settle down in once place. Michelle wins the challenge with an eagle totem and skeletal paper sculpture, evoking a recent near-death experience she had in a hit-and-run car accident. That's about as anti-kitschy a concept as any.
Ugo (hummina hummina) is deemed dull and Keith-Haring-derivative with his red-on-red pattern thing over more other patterned things, and he is out. No more blue eyes. Truly, Bayeté probably should have gone, with his very bad collage that heaped on the cliches of identity and race, or The Sucklord, who made a piece of kitsch art of Gandalf that was even kitschier than the painting of a wizard he based it upon. Plus he's called The Sucklord. Guest judge Mary Ellen Mark saves Sucklord in the end. His work "speaks to her." This somewhat makes sense when I find an article in the Sunday NY Times about her passion for collecting cute little robots. In the end, handsome guy is dropped. But art marches on.
And on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, season 2, Brandi's child peed in some bushes and this became relevant because later at a game party held by Dana, Kim and Kyle called her on that. Camille tried to comfort Kim after Brandi called her a bitch and accused her to doing crystal meth. Kim called Brandi a bitch slut, pig slut, and short-shorts-wearing whore. And Brandi agreed that she was, in all likelihood, a slut. Taylor looked horrified and kept the angry housewives from engaging in fisticuffs and the game party dissolved as a result. I missed the thrilling conclusion because my kid started a pillow fight with me.
Meanwhile at the Vanderpump residence, Lisa's daughter Pandora is finally engaged to her long-time boyfriend, Jason, over formal sit-down family dinner with lots of shiny, mirrored plates and vases. A wedding planner is soon brought on board. He sports a mullet and is like something out of a very late-season, very bad episode of "Will and Grace." Lisa hires him anyway, probably because Bravo will foot some of the bill to keep this obnoxious guy around. There is talk of spending a million dollars for Pandora's wedding, although Lisa would prefer something more "English" in the realm of $150,000. Not gonna happen, even though the wedding planner finds Pandora's wish for a pink-roses-festooned wedding dress to be "tacky." And with air kisses, that's the show. I missed all the earlier episodes. Thank GOD.
Next week I'll do a better job, I promise. In theory.
So my diabolical plan was to recap every episode of my favorite reality show, Work of Art, Season 2, since I missed out last season. Didn't we all? Work of Art was kind of snuck into the Bravo line-up last year. I don't really remember much promotion for the show. The network almost seemed a bit embarrassed by a fine-art competition. But it turned out to be one of the greatest experiments in entertainment in the 21st Century. A room full of narcissistic creative types, given impossible-to-accomplish challenges using fine-art media and their whackadoo thinking-caps, all in the name of gallery-industry fame and fortune.Plus New York Magazine's art critic/Work of Art judge Jerry Saltz added even more layers of entertainment with his often self-lacerating blog and its legion of mega-commenters (myself included). Saltz' recaps quoted Goethe and seriously questioned the concept of the show, the commerce of art, and his own role on both counts. How could you not love this show? I ask you. Because Bravo is very stingy with image-sharing from the show (art copyright laws are a bitch), I will provide half-ass line drawings for your visual pleasure.
So episode one of season 2 introduces all the contestant artists, who are looking even prettier than last year. There's no old people (like me), and I can't tell the women apart yet because they're all around the same height, weight, and have straight, longish hair. Not a criticism, but sheesh--last year there was an old person and different body types at least. The guys shuffle in as well. There's a gorgeous French guy named Ugo whose blue eyes during his face-time interviews have me saying, "Hummina, hummina hummina!" There's a guy named The Sucklord, who makes altered action figures. You know he'll be around for a while. There's a performance-artist, Young Sun, who seems to be a prodigy but we'll see. There is nudity and Speedo's when it comes to Young Sun. Leon is from Malaysia and is trying to prove himself as an artist who happens to be deaf. There's more but it's all a blur on the first episode.
The artists are shown a gallery full of crappy, kitschy art pieces and told to pick one and make something high art-ish with the crap as inspiration. It's a glorious beginning! They grab their crap and get cracking. Or some of them do. Lola cannot get it together until the last minute. The judges end up loving her cold, gallery-ready installation of muted paintings and cement structures that represent her longing to settle down in once place. Michelle wins the challenge with an eagle totem and skeletal paper sculpture, evoking a recent near-death experience she had in a hit-and-run car accident. That's about as anti-kitschy a concept as any.
Ugo (hummina hummina) is deemed dull and Keith-Haring-derivative with his red-on-red pattern thing over more other patterned things, and he is out. No more blue eyes. Truly, Bayeté probably should have gone, with his very bad collage that heaped on the cliches of identity and race, or The Sucklord, who made a piece of kitsch art of Gandalf that was even kitschier than the painting of a wizard he based it upon. Plus he's called The Sucklord. Guest judge Mary Ellen Mark saves Sucklord in the end. His work "speaks to her." This somewhat makes sense when I find an article in the Sunday NY Times about her passion for collecting cute little robots. In the end, handsome guy is dropped. But art marches on.
And on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, season 2, Brandi's child peed in some bushes and this became relevant because later at a game party held by Dana, Kim and Kyle called her on that. Camille tried to comfort Kim after Brandi called her a bitch and accused her to doing crystal meth. Kim called Brandi a bitch slut, pig slut, and short-shorts-wearing whore. And Brandi agreed that she was, in all likelihood, a slut. Taylor looked horrified and kept the angry housewives from engaging in fisticuffs and the game party dissolved as a result. I missed the thrilling conclusion because my kid started a pillow fight with me.
Meanwhile at the Vanderpump residence, Lisa's daughter Pandora is finally engaged to her long-time boyfriend, Jason, over formal sit-down family dinner with lots of shiny, mirrored plates and vases. A wedding planner is soon brought on board. He sports a mullet and is like something out of a very late-season, very bad episode of "Will and Grace." Lisa hires him anyway, probably because Bravo will foot some of the bill to keep this obnoxious guy around. There is talk of spending a million dollars for Pandora's wedding, although Lisa would prefer something more "English" in the realm of $150,000. Not gonna happen, even though the wedding planner finds Pandora's wish for a pink-roses-festooned wedding dress to be "tacky." And with air kisses, that's the show. I missed all the earlier episodes. Thank GOD.
Next week I'll do a better job, I promise. In theory.
Friday, October 07, 2011
Buster Keaton is so damn funny
Buster Keaton is my fave movie persona of all time and Kino has seen fit to release two of his shorts, "Battling Butler" and "Go West." So that is grand news. Why Buster? Because he did all his own ridiculously dangerous stunts (and many of his co-stars' as well). Because he was endlessly inventive. Because he was the ultimate poker-faced yet charming screen presence. Here's a bullet-point what-makes-Buster Keaton-great list:
See some Keaton films. "Sherlock Jr." has much to say about cinematic storytelling. "Steamboat Bill's" hurricane scene is dream-like yet so physically imposing. "Cops" is the ultimate surreal chase film. "Seven Chances" asks the question. what is more imposing--outrunning multitudes of giant boulders, or multitudes of brides trying to herd you into a church? "The General" explores every possible absurd stunt that can be choreographed on a steam train. In every situation, with every mechanical device, throughout geographical locations, Keaton delved into the potential weirdness and usually came out the other side, somewhat the wiser, though still deadpan.
The weirdness of car/motorcycle chases in "Sherlock Jr."
The weirdness of steam locomotion in "Daydreams."
Steam locomotion is weird (watch the train's arrival in the end).
The weirdness of home ownership in "One Week."
The weirdness of extreme weather conditions in "Steamboat Bill."
City streets in "Go West." San Francisco is starting to feel like this to me.
How not to box in "Battling Butler."
Thanks to diggia81 for many of the Buster uploads.
Roger Ebert's appreciation
- Although he did the bulk of his best work throughout the 1920s, his films are still wonderfully strange and somewhat timeless, due to their being extensions of his wonderfully strange and somewhat timeless thought processes.
- He is playful onscreen, even during deadly situations. Especially during deadly situations.
- He knew deadly situations are fraught with tension and therefore can result in the biggest laughs, if done correctly.
- He was a perfectionist who strove to do most everything correctly.
- When stuck for an idea, he would call a time-out to play some baseball with his film crew. He loved baseball. It helped him think.
- He was a genius.
- He was adorable.
- He wore that little hat.
- I am in love with him.
See some Keaton films. "Sherlock Jr." has much to say about cinematic storytelling. "Steamboat Bill's" hurricane scene is dream-like yet so physically imposing. "Cops" is the ultimate surreal chase film. "Seven Chances" asks the question. what is more imposing--outrunning multitudes of giant boulders, or multitudes of brides trying to herd you into a church? "The General" explores every possible absurd stunt that can be choreographed on a steam train. In every situation, with every mechanical device, throughout geographical locations, Keaton delved into the potential weirdness and usually came out the other side, somewhat the wiser, though still deadpan.
The weirdness of car/motorcycle chases in "Sherlock Jr."
The weirdness of steam locomotion in "Daydreams."
Steam locomotion is weird (watch the train's arrival in the end).
The weirdness of home ownership in "One Week."
The weirdness of extreme weather conditions in "Steamboat Bill."
City streets in "Go West." San Francisco is starting to feel like this to me.
How not to box in "Battling Butler."
Thanks to diggia81 for many of the Buster uploads.
Roger Ebert's appreciation
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
Rick James - You and I
Get up and dance with the king of funk. Best chorus in the history of top-40 radio.
1978, baby!
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Vintage Fashions from Your Friends at British Pathe
Long ago British Pathé produced these fine fashion films and now they have their own Vintage Fashions YouTube channel. Rejoice!
Mary Quant is synonymous with cool 60s fashion. Check out her convertible booties! She's tops.
It's the 50s. You want to be a model. You would have to attend modeling school and learn to walk and turn, my friend. Note: stick-thinness would not have been required.
Swim season is over but that doesn't mean we can't appreciate the bygone era of swim-cap fashion. This is like an outtake from America's Next Top Model but without the humiliating "pudding-vat pool" that Tyra would no doubt require her contestants to pose in (while smizing).
I should save this for my Christmas holiday posting needs, but I can't resist. And stores are featuring Christmas items now anyway, three weeks before Halloween. It truly is the nightmare before Christmas, everyone.
As noted on Jezebel.
Mary Quant is synonymous with cool 60s fashion. Check out her convertible booties! She's tops.
It's the 50s. You want to be a model. You would have to attend modeling school and learn to walk and turn, my friend. Note: stick-thinness would not have been required.
Swim season is over but that doesn't mean we can't appreciate the bygone era of swim-cap fashion. This is like an outtake from America's Next Top Model but without the humiliating "pudding-vat pool" that Tyra would no doubt require her contestants to pose in (while smizing).
I should save this for my Christmas holiday posting needs, but I can't resist. And stores are featuring Christmas items now anyway, three weeks before Halloween. It truly is the nightmare before Christmas, everyone.
As noted on Jezebel.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Songs About Shellfish
It's Fish Friday (all Catholics of a certain age will know what I mean) and while the Pope no longer decrees what we're allowed to eat at the end of the working week, we can still celebrate with songs about shellfish. Actually, was it OK to eat shellfish on Fridays? I hope nobody sinned without knowing it! I hate when that happens.
Rock Lobster - The B-52's classic in its official video format. Back in high school when it was barely the 80s, our school's only punk, Skip, played this for me. She was a senior who wore fascinatingly weird clothing combinations of plaid and day-glow, had a boy haircut and always sported red, red lipstick. One day during lunch period she dragged me, a lowly sophomore, still dressed in corduroys and delicate floral blouses, to the school drama room's portable turntable and demanded that I listen to this from her personal record collection.
There are moments that alter our lives and we usually know what is happening at the time but we don't always have the words to describe it. This was one such moment for me. Thanks, Skip (she went on to become a preppy at Cal Berkeley--always the forward-thinker). While I listened to Rock Lobster with my teen-aged ears, I knew beyond a doubt there is a wide world out there beyond anything I could imagine. Plus you can dance to it.
Crawfish - Elvis Presley and Kitty White pour their hearts and souls into this sultry ode to the lowly bottom-dweller in "King Creole."
The Mollusk - If ever a band was up to the challenge of writing a prog-rock masterpiece about shellfish, it would be Ween. Then the Animated Brick Company made a video for it with LEGO. Ambition all around.
Eclectic Prawn - I already posted this song and video from Dumbo Gets Mad. But it's so great, it deserves a double-posting. And it's about a prawn who wears a little bitty crown. He's eclectic, you see. And the organ melodies have been stuck in my head for three days. Now they can be stuck in yours. You won't be sorry.
The Lobster Quadrille - Franz Ferdinand. The poem is by Lewis Carroll as envisioned by Tim Burton. This vision of Wonderland is dark and creepy. It depresses me but I haven't seen the movie yet so maybe it's a really feel-good venture. Um, yes.
And while we're at it, The Walrus and the Carpenter - a brutal lesson about the realities of the food chain and capitalism. And cabbages and kings.
Inflatable Boy Clams - Sorry. Not a song about shellfish but a tune by the 1981 band named after shellfish. A classic of bizarre proportions. I like to think this is based on two passive-aggressive roommates who once lived in San Francisco in a damp flat with orange wall-to-wall shag carpeting. One rents the bedroom with the window that looks out at a nearby wall and drainpipe. The other lives in the sun porch off the kitchen with just enough space for a twin mattress and an apple crate. A curtain made from an old quilt hangs in her doorway. The third bedroom is rented by a male model who is somewhere in Japan, dancing in a cornfield with an 16-year-old on his shoulders for a photo shoot. Not that I would know anything about this...
We end with The Smothers Brothers' Crabs Walk Sideways. Folk on, shellfish lovers!
Rock Lobster - The B-52's classic in its official video format. Back in high school when it was barely the 80s, our school's only punk, Skip, played this for me. She was a senior who wore fascinatingly weird clothing combinations of plaid and day-glow, had a boy haircut and always sported red, red lipstick. One day during lunch period she dragged me, a lowly sophomore, still dressed in corduroys and delicate floral blouses, to the school drama room's portable turntable and demanded that I listen to this from her personal record collection.
There are moments that alter our lives and we usually know what is happening at the time but we don't always have the words to describe it. This was one such moment for me. Thanks, Skip (she went on to become a preppy at Cal Berkeley--always the forward-thinker). While I listened to Rock Lobster with my teen-aged ears, I knew beyond a doubt there is a wide world out there beyond anything I could imagine. Plus you can dance to it.
Crawfish - Elvis Presley and Kitty White pour their hearts and souls into this sultry ode to the lowly bottom-dweller in "King Creole."
The Mollusk - If ever a band was up to the challenge of writing a prog-rock masterpiece about shellfish, it would be Ween. Then the Animated Brick Company made a video for it with LEGO. Ambition all around.
Eclectic Prawn - I already posted this song and video from Dumbo Gets Mad. But it's so great, it deserves a double-posting. And it's about a prawn who wears a little bitty crown. He's eclectic, you see. And the organ melodies have been stuck in my head for three days. Now they can be stuck in yours. You won't be sorry.
The Lobster Quadrille - Franz Ferdinand. The poem is by Lewis Carroll as envisioned by Tim Burton. This vision of Wonderland is dark and creepy. It depresses me but I haven't seen the movie yet so maybe it's a really feel-good venture. Um, yes.
And while we're at it, The Walrus and the Carpenter - a brutal lesson about the realities of the food chain and capitalism. And cabbages and kings.
Inflatable Boy Clams - Sorry. Not a song about shellfish but a tune by the 1981 band named after shellfish. A classic of bizarre proportions. I like to think this is based on two passive-aggressive roommates who once lived in San Francisco in a damp flat with orange wall-to-wall shag carpeting. One rents the bedroom with the window that looks out at a nearby wall and drainpipe. The other lives in the sun porch off the kitchen with just enough space for a twin mattress and an apple crate. A curtain made from an old quilt hangs in her doorway. The third bedroom is rented by a male model who is somewhere in Japan, dancing in a cornfield with an 16-year-old on his shoulders for a photo shoot. Not that I would know anything about this...
We end with The Smothers Brothers' Crabs Walk Sideways. Folk on, shellfish lovers!
Monday, September 26, 2011
From the mixed-up MP3 files of Mrs. Captive Wild Woman blogspot dot com
It's one of those days. The 100+ degree weather has taken a turn and suddenly we're wearing pants. And socks. And cardigans. Not to worry because thanks to climate change we'll be back at the community pool in 90-degree heat within a day or so. It's like living in two places at once with two wardrobes and of course, the squirrels (no matter what the season, weather, or mindset, there are squirrels).
So what's on the MP3 playlist today? I set it for random scramble (like a squirrel) and here's what came up. Enjoy.
Dumbo Gets Mad - Eclectic Prawn. From Italy and really quite a mish-mash of wonderful things.
The Appleseed Cast - End Frigate Constellation. Prog not dead.
Why not see them live? I think you won't be sorry.
Odjbox - Teresina. Technically I'm listening to their remix, Sepia Sky, but there's no video for it, unfortunately. This is also fun and has clips from one of my favorite old films, "Dance Girl Dance."
Dum Dum Girls - Bedroom Eyes. Bringing the girlish back to girl groups.
Ty Segall - The Drag. This young fellow can really rock (said while in my rocking chair on the porch with a bowl of roasted almonds in my lap).
Plus: no video but worth a listen (and a free download):
Extra Happy Ghost - Mercy Mercy
Mark Davis - Eliminate the Toxins
Comet Gain - Working Circle Explosive!
So what's on the MP3 playlist today? I set it for random scramble (like a squirrel) and here's what came up. Enjoy.
Dumbo Gets Mad - Eclectic Prawn. From Italy and really quite a mish-mash of wonderful things.
The Appleseed Cast - End Frigate Constellation. Prog not dead.
Why not see them live? I think you won't be sorry.
Odjbox - Teresina. Technically I'm listening to their remix, Sepia Sky, but there's no video for it, unfortunately. This is also fun and has clips from one of my favorite old films, "Dance Girl Dance."
Dum Dum Girls - Bedroom Eyes. Bringing the girlish back to girl groups.
Ty Segall - The Drag. This young fellow can really rock (said while in my rocking chair on the porch with a bowl of roasted almonds in my lap).
Plus: no video but worth a listen (and a free download):
Extra Happy Ghost - Mercy Mercy
Mark Davis - Eliminate the Toxins
Comet Gain - Working Circle Explosive!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Most-hated-words Haiku
Where would we be without language? We'd be davfn e8pawu asgfwj 3 da9nfn67, that's where. But as great as language can be, there are words which bother, bewilder and sometimes even disgust us. Words that are "icky" to say, or have weird meanings we don't want to deal with, or are overused, becoming meaningless word tics. These most-hated-words are the inspiration for my haiku. And because Internet poetry is such an excellent search-engine lure (snerk!), it's win-win. Oh God, I HATE the word, win-win.
Do not say pamphlet
It sounds like Pamprin panties
Stop saying it, please!
How lame is shampoo?
Do you want it on your head?
I didn't think so
Hey, sexy nipples!
Absolutely erotic!
Not bloody likely
Struggle for respect
A voice in the wilderness
twitter does not help
DVDs are here!
Happiness tempered by
stupid Qwikster name
Irregardless, I'd
like to reiterate
that I'm an idiot
LOL, ;) LMFAO
ROTFLMFAO
just laugh, you moron
I want you to know
verbage was never a word
but garbage still works
Dude, hella awesome
mommy blogger webinar!
Epic beige pamphlets!
(Just trying to squeeze as many in as possible. Carry on...)
Thanks to my friends who contributed their most hated words. There's enough for a possible Vol. II - epic!
Do not say pamphlet
It sounds like Pamprin panties
Stop saying it, please!
How lame is shampoo?
Do you want it on your head?
I didn't think so
Hey, sexy nipples!
Absolutely erotic!
Not bloody likely
Struggle for respect
A voice in the wilderness
twitter does not help
DVDs are here!
Happiness tempered by
stupid Qwikster name
Irregardless, I'd
like to reiterate
that I'm an idiot
LOL, ;) LMFAO
ROTFLMFAO
just laugh, you moron
I want you to know
verbage was never a word
but garbage still works
Dude, hella awesome
mommy blogger webinar!
Epic beige pamphlets!
(Just trying to squeeze as many in as possible. Carry on...)
Thanks to my friends who contributed their most hated words. There's enough for a possible Vol. II - epic!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
R.E.M. was really fucking great
And now I will bore you with my R.E.M. story. I dragged my roommate to an R.E.M. show at The Stone on Broadway in San Francisco for the 1983 tour. This was on the back of the "Murmur" album, which was mostly known through college radio. I had heard Radio Free Europe once on KSAN or some such free-form commercial station and I was smitten. "C'mon," I told my skeptical roommate, "This band is really great. I'm not kidding. We gotta go see them." I was like something out of a Brady Bunch episode.
So on the basis of that one unarguably great song, we went to see R.E.M. The Stone was a nondescript rec-room of a club, generally booked by heavy-metal and up-and-coming indie acts. Its main distinction was a black-and-white tiled floor and a clothing boutique across the street that could outfit you like a member of Poison, if you so desired.
Since there were only a couple hundred people there (I think capacity was 350), we just parked in front of the stage and drowned ourselves in R.E.M.'s youthful, talented musical energies for the entire set. Mike Mills winked at us a few times which freaked us out because we were 19 and thought of him as an "older man." And also I was very insecure and assumed he might just have an eye tic, but maybe not. Michael Stipe was the Frank Sinatra of indie rock, voice-wise but was adorably shy in that "sitting in the corner of English class" college way. Still: Peter Buck was the man. He has double-jointed fingers, I'm sure of it. No one can play like him then and now. Oh, and lest we forget: Bill Berry was/is a great drummer and the heart of R.E.M. It was really sad when he had to quit the band. It took a lot out of them, I think we can all agree.
That show was as excellent as they come. Really one of the finest nights in my life. I never saw them again because I knew they could never surpass that show in my mind. It's twisted and probably wrong of me, but I was happy with my memories without sullying the situation with possibly inferior outings in the future. Plus I saw Peter Buck and his magical fingers numerous times with his other bands, so I'm good. They really opened up music for a lot of people, injecting energy and innovation into folk/punk-rock. Thanks guys.
Man, I'm old.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Army Navy - Ode to Janice Melt
Army Navy's got a bright Brit-pop thing going on even though they're from Los Angeles. And probably because they're from Los Angeles, their music videos are like wee films of absurd weirdness featuring fairly high production values and coherent (if bizarre) concepts. "Ode to Janice Melt" has adorable Jason Ritter falling into forbidden love...with his hand.
Army Navy isn't afraid to get their funny on. Probably a smart business plan in today's crap music industry.
"My Thin Sides"
"Saints"
As seen on NPR's All Songs Considered Blog
Army Navy isn't afraid to get their funny on. Probably a smart business plan in today's crap music industry.
"My Thin Sides"
"Saints"
As seen on NPR's All Songs Considered Blog
Monday, September 19, 2011
Happy Bonzo Dog Band Day
I was watching the six-part Monty Python documentary, "Almost The Truth (The Lawyer's Cut)" today and The Bonzo Dog Band got a big shout-out in episode one. They were very influential to the future Pythons when they were just starting out on the show "Do Not Adjust Your Set." And while Peter Sellers, Peter Cook and other comic geniuses of the day were doing their blend of dry, absurd and silly, the Dog Band was just plain weird. Truly "out there" and free-form. The blend of influences all came together and the rest is Flying Circus history. Let's listen in.
"Almost The Truth" is currently streaming on Netflix, but who knows how long that will last. The situation at Netflix is fluid, as in quite possibly running down the drain.
"Almost The Truth" is currently streaming on Netflix, but who knows how long that will last. The situation at Netflix is fluid, as in quite possibly running down the drain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)