Nick Cave Is Not That Nick Cave

I sauntered into Nick Cave's exhibit at Jack Shainman gallery, thinking I was about to see artwork by the doom-and-gloom Australian singer. Nick Cave, the singer, has written a novel and penned a screenplay, so why shouldn't he pick up a paintbrush as well? Wrong! Another Nick Cave exists. He's a Chicago-based artist whose sculptures are worn, known as Soundsuits. The "outfits" look like ceremonial costumes but with a high fashion aesthetic. There's a Matthew Barney vibe going on here: meticulous, slightly druggy, and with probably a million references you would never be able to even guess.

Best-Looking Bucket

Don a tartan armband. Petra Cabot, who designed the Skotch Kooler, died recently. Remember these plaid coolers? According to the Times obit published Sunday, Cabot remarked that "“I decided to make the best-looking bucket anybody ever saw." And I think she did. Petra looks quite fashionable with her creation in this photo. I'd love to have a handbag that looks like a smaller version of this Skotch Kooler. (Image via lifeinlegacy.com)

Drive-in Saturday

In this weekly feature, I review in one sentence or less videos/DVDs of movies that you either have seen already or wouldn't bother to see.

"Coming Home" (1978 ), directed by Hal Ashby: Vietnam War vets drama still holds up.

"Three of Hearts: A Postmodern Family" (2005), directed by Susan Kaplan: Documentary about a menage-a-trois only gets interesting when things fall apart.

Gritty and Real

"A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints," an autobiographical film about growing up in Queens by Dito Montiel, feels gritty and real. The dialogue, which is the best thing about this flick, sounds picture-perfect, gritty and real. And the actors look the part--gritty and real. Most of the film is populated by little-known actors, playing four teenaged friends who may never break out of Astoria. Interestingly, Robert Downey Jr., who plays the grownup version of Dito, is the weakest link of the standout cast.

Racing with Scissors

I'm racing to finish "Running with Scissors"--the book--so I can see "Running with Scissors"--the movie this weekend. The book is a very easy read. Augusten Burroughs's humor is quite similar to that of John Waters, who writes hilarious essays. I haven't heard much about the movie except that Annette Benning is fantastic. (I wanted to see "Infamous," but it has already left my local theater. It must be bombing.)

Underneath It All

These images from John Miller's show at Metro Pictures gallery look like end film credits. They're not. Here's what they are: Text from personal ads on Lavalife, an online dating service, superimposed on photographs of the area (West Hollywood) in which the Lavalife members live. I liked the contrast between these pumped-up, I'm-so-hot ads and the grungy areas. The images seemed emblematic of Hollywood: underneath all the artifice and come-ons, it's just a greasy, old gas station. (Images via 303 Gallery)

Dakota Foster

The new Gap ad featuring actress Dakota Fanning brings me back to 1980, specifically, May 19, 1980. That's the date when Jodie Foster graced the cover of People Magazine. Dakota looks like a dead ringer for a young Jodie. There's something a little creepy about Dakota Fanning, but now that I see that she looks like J.F., I have a feeling she'll be around for a while.


Jodie Fans: In my search for photos, I came across this site with recordings of Jodie singing two songs for her 1977 film "Moi, fleur bleue." Here's the French version, and here's the English rendition.

A New Romantic

Karen Kilimnik's exhibit at 303 Gallery evokes a time when war was portrayed as civilized and almost aristocratic. Kilimnik uses paintings and installations to get her point across. The paintings feel heavy and dense and have romantic, playful titles, such as "The Girl in the Pearl Earring in Shakespeare's Cottage." The installation of a general tent is created in the same vein as well. Behind the fabric flap, you'll find swords and a writing desk but also toy horses. This is a very cohesive show, "A" for consistency.

Forget-Me-Not

These self-portraits by artist William Utermohlen as he descended into Alzheimer's Disease are amazing. Published into today's New York Times Science section, the works began in 1996 and ended in 2000. The accompanying article explains that Utermohlen started losing his spatial sense and the artwork became more abstract as his dementia increased. Utermohlen, who's 73, no longer paints and is in a nursing home. Sadly, Utermohlen will probably be remembered more for his "Alzheimer's Stage" than any of his previous work. (Image via Alecsoth.com)

Drive-in Saturday

In this weekly feature, I review in one sentence or less videos/DVDs of movies that you either have seen already or wouldn't bother to see.

I've always mixed up these two movies: "Walking and Talking" and "Kicking and Screaming." So I decided to check them both out to help me keep them straight.

"Walking and Talking" (1996), directed by Nicole Holofcener: Gives "Chick Flick" a good name.


"Kicking and Screaming" (1995), directed by Noah Baumbach: Rent "The Squid and the Whale" instead.

Tru Times Two

What to do with a second Truman Capote.... This New York Times article delves into the marketing strategy behind "Infamous," a film that sounds an awful lot like last year's "Capote." Warner Independent's tactic is to emphasize the difference between the two movies and to focus on those cities in which "Capote" performed well. That is, the studio is going after people like me who liked "Capote." I think the technique is working because I'm planning to see "Infamous" at some point. If I were a studio head, however, I think I would've held this film back about five years. (Image via New York Times)

Regret and Guilt--Chelsea Style

Jesper Just's arty film, "It Will All End in Tears," has enough archetypes and symbolism in it to keep any film student happy. The 20-minute trilogy, which is being screened at Perry Rubenstein gallery, follows a nameless older man who is haunted by something he did in his past. The film has no dialogue but a lot of music, including a sort of Greek Chorus--The Finnish Screaming Men's Choir. The mini-flick's story is an intriguing little puzzle. The film leaves you sensing the main character's feelings of crushing regret and guilt. (Images via Perry Rubenstein gallery, JesperJust.com)

King Forest

Forest Whitaker is brilliant as Idi Amin in "The Last King of Scotland," but don't think you'll see this always interesting actor in every scene. The movie is really about a young Scottish doctor who falls under Amin's spell. The story of Amin is told through the eyes of this white man, played by James McAvoy. Director Kevin MacDonald, who helmed the heart-stopping documentary "Touching the Void," gives a realistic, gritty feel to the flick. However, Whitaker is so good in this role that I wish the film could've been entirely about Amin. (Forest Fans: here's Terry Gross interviewing F.W.)

Folk Death

The descriptions of Dario Robleto's reliquaries at D'Amelio Terras gallery are more fascinating than the works themselves. Here are the supposed source materials in the hourglass above:

...sand and oil samples taken by American soldiers from various wars when landing on foreign lands, excavated bullets and shrapnel from various wars, bacteria cultured from battlefield dirt, bone dust from every bone in the body...

The show's title, "Fear and Tenderness in Men," sounds like the Iron John era, but these works harken back to a long lost era of keepsakes, memorial altars, and trench art (soldiers who create art in their spare time). There's a whacked-out folk art approach to these shrines. For instance, the below image is an Easter basket containing "men's wedding finger bones coated in melted bullet lead from various American wars." (Image via D'Amelio Terras gallery)

Altman's Hands

I'm thrilled to hear that Robert Altman will direct a feature film adaptation of the documentary "Hands on a Hard Body." Altman's last film, "Prairie Home Companion," put me to sleep twice. "Hands..." is an engrossing documentary about an endurance contest among some Texans: whoever keeps one hand on a new pickup truck the longest wins the vehicle. The contest goes on for days, people get delirious, crumble, etc. It will be interesting to see this subject matter in Altman's hands.

Monkey Minutia

Film director Terry Gilliam was recently interviewed by Bob Edwards on his radio show. Here are some highlights. Most interesting part: Gilliam wanted Jeff Bridges for the lead role in "12 Monkeys," which eventually went to Bruce Willis. When he confronted studio heads about the rejection of his choice, Gilliam was told that Bridges was a "jinx." (There's a theory that the quality of a Jeff Bridges movie correlates to the length of his hair. The longer the hair, the better the movie.) Least surprising part of interview: It was Brad Pitt's idea to look bug-eyed to convey his character's mental state. Brad P. is such an intuitive and subtle actor! Personal note: I was wildly disappointed with "12 Monkeys." I hated the casting, especially B.P. Gilliam's film rep has been riding on his masterpiece, "Brazil." I admit that "The Fisher King" was entertaining, but everything else has been muddled and self-indulgent.

Drive-in Saturday

In this weekly feature, I review in one sentence or less videos/DVDs of movies that you either have seen already or wouldn't bother to see.

"Joe" (1970), directed by John Avildsen: Peter Boyle goes hunting for hippies in this drama about the bigot in all of us.

Jesus Juice

It's biblical, and it's bloody. Barnaby Furnas's recent paintings at Marianne Boesky gallery depict a very brilliantly red Red Sea and a very bloody Christ. The Red Sea paintings are fittingly huge and remind me more of that scene of blood flooding the halls in "The Shining" than Charlton Heston's parting the water in "The Ten Commandments." The Christ imagery is cartoony, and Jesus's wounds look like the slashes on Sid Vicious's chest after a performance. I think Mel Gibson would approve of this version of the crucifixion, even though this Christ looks like he was drawn by Berkeley Breathed.

Spread the News

I hope that the news of Orhan Pamuk's Nobel Prize for Literature turns some people on to this Turkish writer. Although I've read only one of his books, "Snow," I consider myself a big fan. Here's a BBC link with all the details. (Yes, this laughing photo of the writer paired with this post seems hokey, but I like it.)

Who Dat?

Either the National Book Award nominating committee is going out on a limb, or my knowledge of contemporary fiction over the past year is worse than I thought. I do not recognize one single name or book on the fiction list. Here are the finalists for that category: Mark Z. Danielewski, "Only Revolutions"; Ken Kalfus, "A Disorder Peculiar to the Country"; Richard Powers, "The Echo Maker"; Dana Spiotta, "Eat the Document"; Jess Walter, "The Zero." (Richard Powers' name sounds familiar, but I couldn't tell you what else he's written.)

End of Book Drought

Stop the presses, or rather start them: I'm finally reading a book again. The last book I finished was eight months ago (sad) and was nonfiction lite: Norah Vincent's "Self-Made Man"--which I actually liked a lot. Lord knows that I've tried to immerse myself in many books during this period. Chang-rae Lee's "Aloft," Norman Mailer's "The Spooky Art," Toni Morrison's "Beloved," and Brian Wilson's autobiography are just a few of the tomes with bookmarks that never passed page 50. And the novel that's hooked me? Francine Prose's "A Changed Man." I bought it simply because it was in the bargain bin ($8, hardcover) and remembered reading positive reviews. I'm halfway through this story about a skinhead, and let's hope I don't stumble before the finish line.

Lonely Dare

In reading reviews of independent film producer Christine Vachon's memoir "A Killer Life," I saw that one of her upcoming projects is a biopic on Dare Wright, who developed "The Lonely Doll" books. Wright and her books have developed a type of cult following. Julian Schnabel is set to direct the picture. The film will start shooting late this year. I loved "Basquiat" but loathed "Before Night Falls," so who knows how this will turn out. (Image via Darewright.com)

Losing (Half a) Face

Apparently, if a movie's title includes the words "king" or "queen," only half of the star's face can appear in the print ad. These ads for "The Queen," starring Helen Mirren, and "The Last King of Scotland," with Forest Whitaker, popped up stacked on top of each other in the New York Observer. I'm sure the sales staff were just thrilled with that. Too bad that both ad designers opted to show only the stars' right side (perhaps it's more sinister-looking). If Forest Whitaker's left side were shown instead, then the King and Queen could have merged into one royal ad.

Come On Pilgrim

Jockum Nordstrom's collages and drawings at David Zwirner gallery have an element of the Japanese scroll. Instead of kimono-clad figures, however, men wearing pilgrim-gear and women in thongs populate the negative space in Nordstrom's works. Something sinister is going on among these cutout figures. There's a whiff of "The Scarlet Letter" and "The Crucible." I guess I'm a bit of prude, but I find the word "fuck" in one of the paintings' titles ("Fuck the Big Revolution, and Where is the Holy Bible") a little off-putting (and desperate). The artist certainly can create a mood with simple imagery, but I can't say for sure what it all adds up to. (Images via David Zwirner Gallery)

Drive-in Saturday

In this weekly feature, I review in one sentence or less videos/DVDs of movies that you either have seen already or wouldn't bother to see.

"I Stand Alone" (1998), directed by Gaspar Noe: Relentlessly bleak, searing.

Ferry Boys

Last month, I wrote about Roxy Music lead singer Bryan Ferry appearing in a Burberry ad with the world's most sexless-looking woman. I mused that I would like the image if that model had been Ferry's son in drag. It turns out that I saw only half of the ad. The full ad, coincidentally, does feature Ferry's sons, Isaac and Otis--not in drag, though. (I still think that the ad's image goes wildly against Ferry's persona of glam playboy.) Here's an another Burberry ad featuring the Ferry Boys.

Never Mind the Cake, Here's Marie

This ad for Sofia Coppola's latest film, "Marie Antoinette," appeared in Vogue. It reminds me of the Sex Pistols' album cover for "Never Mind the Bollocks..." Seems like an interesting strategy. The reviews of the flick from the Cannes Film Festival were horrible. Nevertheless, I'm still looking forward to seeing the movie.

Mugs for Sale

Aren't these images great? You can't deny that these expressions are priceless and these photos do capture that elusive decisive moment. However, something about "Least Wanted: A Century of American Mugshots" at Steven Kasher Gallery rubbed me the wrong way. I visited the gallery at an awkward time. The staff was scurrying around affixing color-coded dots on the mugshot frames that correlated to a price list chart, similar to what you'd see at an Ann Taylor Outlet Store. Except you'd never pay these prices at an outlet mall. For $500 to $900, you can own the likeness of these down-and-out petty criminals. (Imagine if these guys and gals had known what their photos would fetch someday.) If these mugshots, which Mark Michaelson has painstakingly collected, were displayed at the public library and weren't for sale, I would celebrate this exhibit. If you do attend, try to avoid looking at those little colored dots on the frames, and I'm sure that you'll enjoy the show more than I did. (Images via Steven Kasher Gallery)

Blonde Over Blonde

Ugh. Madonna. Why, why, why is Madonna on the cover of New York Magazine's "Design" Issue? (I guess I was one of the lucky ones. NY Mag issued four different covers--Dylan, Joan Crawford, Andy Warhol, and Madge--and distributed them randomly.) If we must have a throwback blonde sexpot on the cover, why not give us someone who is infinitely cooler and more associated with NYC? Like Deborah Harry, for instance? An old photo of D.H. and Chris Stein does appear in the mag, but it's buried on page 83. (Images via NYM)