Amp Power Is on Hiatus
Heading upstate for ice and snow. Happy Holidays!
One paragraph reviews on art, movies, books, and pop culture by a know-nothing who knows it all
By the grace of God, Britney Spears has declined to take on the starring role in the Broadway revival of "Sweet Charity." Christina Applegate, who has received mixed reviews, will close out the show, which will end December 31. This revival has had a ton of ups and downs, a million off- and on-again permutations, and Britney S.'s taking over the reins would've been the icing on the cake. The idea of B.S. singing some of my favorite Broadway tunes would have turned my stomach and had poor Gwen Verdon and Bob Fosse spinning in their graves.
By the time you read this, Orhan Pamuk's future may have already been decided. Pamuk, an amazing Turkish writer whose works leave many a Western novelist in the dust, will stand before a Turkish judge today for the crime of "publicly denigrating Turkish identity." As Pamuk explains in this week's New Yorker, he came under attack after publicly talking about the highly taboo subject of the Turkish slaughter -- many believe genocide -- of Ottoman Armenians during WWI. I read Pamuk's "Snow" last year, and it blew me away, so I will be surely checking on the trial's outcome throughout the day. (Image via Orhanpamuk.net)
Every time I see this ad in the NY Observer, it makes me so happy. When I was just a kid, I daydreamed about a New York way of life. I used to buy Interview magazine when it was strictly a Warhol enterprise, and this same exact ad -- so risque yet sophisticated -- would boldly stare out at me from the pages. And I thought if I ever live in NYC, I'm going to Cafe Luxembourg. I was deeply intrigued with those bathroom-like tiles on the bar, for whatever reason (yes, Freudians would have a field day). By the time I moved here, Warhol had died, and I had forgotten about Cafe Luxembourg. And then I started reading the Observer, and I'd see this ad every week. How wonderful to tease me with those long-lost memories/fantasies of a NY way of life.
Labels: Brian Wilson
Labels: Art exhibits
I'm currently reading Mary Gaitskill's "Veronica." (Full review TK) So far, I feel this is the best book she's written. It's depressing as almighty hell, but her confident writing -- the analogies, descriptions, structure -- purrs and spurs you on to read the next disaster. "Veronica" made the New York Times' 100 notable books of the year. Some other books in which I'm interested were listed as well: "Kafka on the Shore" by Haruki Murakami, "Missing Mom" by Joyce Carol Oates, "Never Let Me Down" by Kazuo Ishiguro, "Prep" by Curtis Sittenfeld (very hard to find at library), "The Sea" by John Banville, "Slow Man" by J.M. Coetzee, and "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion.
Some people may dismiss Tim Noble and Sue Webster's show, "The Glory Hole," at Bortolami Dayan gallery as a gimmick or a cheeky see-how-clever-we-are parade. But I liked it; I dug this "Hole." This is the show's M.O.: the artists meld together pieces of metal into sculptures that jut all over the joint. A screen-projector light is pointed at the sculptures, which cast off a smoothed-line shadow that is an image completely different from the sculpture. The sculptures by themselves are mundane, as are the shadows; they need each other to be interesting. Is this great art? No. But it's a curious show that forces you to examine line and shape.
Labels: Art exhibits
If your dad was a drunk who browbeat your family with megalomanic speeches that ran the manipulation-spectrum of barking interrogation to maudlin self-pitying, you may want to skip this post. A WFMU blog, which I found on a Beach Boys message board, has posted a recording of Murry Wilson (dad of Brian, Dennis, and Carl) storming a Beach Boys' recording session. The blog sets the scene:
January 8, 1965: The Beach Boys enter the studio to record what will become their second number one hit, Help Me Rhonda. Well into the session, a drunken Murry Wilson arrives and proceeds to commandeer the session with psychodrama, scat singing and weepy, abusive melodrama. The session tape captured it all.On the recording is the infamous line "I'm a genius too," which Murry zapped at Brian during the session. Also, Brian refers to his deaf ear, which allegedly came from a beating from Murry. The edited 12-minute recording is oppressive, sad, and depressing. Enjoy! (Image via Brian Wilson's Official Site ?? Can't remember)
Labels: Brian Wilson