Everyone Knows Her

New York loves Miranda July. The performance artist's four-day engagement at The Kitchen is completely sold out. July has received a ton of ink from the NY press in regard to this multi-media performance called "Things We Don't Know About and Definitely Are Not Going to Talk About." I was quite taken with her film "You and Me and Everyone We Know," but I don't frankly understand what all the current fuss is about. Here are some previews and profiles from Time Out and NY Sun. (Image via The Kitchen)

Camped Out

These images are so deliciously over-the-top that I had to share. Photographed by Michael Thompson and styled by Karl Templer, this super camped-out spread appeared in this month's W, under the title "Ile de la Mode." Next time I'm at the beach, I'll definitely wear my blood-red lipstick and don my towel like a turban. (Images via W mag)

Cheeky Weekly Slashes Self

Let me try to explain how disappointed I am in The New York Observer's new tabloid-sized incarnation: I hate it. A huge part of the charm of this once cheeky weekly broadsheet was its dense print, full-paged articles, and three-decked screaming clever headlines. Gone. A new owner has taken over this New York media-focused publication, and I guess this is his way to put his stamp on it. I let my subscription run out, and I don't plan to renew it.

Canvas Vs. Bone Structure

The main reason I attended the Armory Show, which showcases art from more than 150 art galleries from around the world, was to see the Art. But I have to admit that the people attending this massive four-day fair caught my eye more often than any artwork hanging on the cubicle/booth walls. The crowd oozed money. These folks were real bluebloods, and they had the bone structure to prove it. No nouveau riche here; this was old money. And perhaps the galleries' presented art mirrored the clientele. The art here was meant to be bought, not to shake the viewer up and make him think of art in a different way. That's not to say, it was vanilla. Some work was very good (I liked the Marilyn Minter painting above), but none stayed with me after I left the tents. (Images via Seze.net and Lesnyjnfelix)

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.

"The Laughing Policeman" (1973), directed by Stuart Rosenberg: Soooo sloooow.

(Image via Outnow.ch)

Don't Mind the Gap

Here comes another what-are-they-thinking ad campaign from Gap. It has been widely reported that Gap sales over the past few years, starting with the Sarah Jessica Parker ads, have been staggeringly disappointing. Now comes this new campaign: "the boyfriend trouser." No, no, no! The concept is that the clothes look like they belong to your boyfriend. This is a poor man's Annie Hall. Very poor. More like bankrupt. Believe me, no woman in the world wants to look sloppy, and no woman wants her ass to look saggy.

Mag Noir

Forgive me if my next couple of posts are about magazines. For the past week, all I've been doing is reading big, fat mags. If you've got strong palm muscles, I recommend Vanity Fair's more than an inch-thick Hollywood Issue. This annual edition boasts a fantasy film noir spread, shot by Annie Leibovitz, featuring such A-listers as Helen Mirren, Judi Dench, Jack Nicholson, and Robert DeNiro. (Vanity Fair has not posted the images online, but Faded Youth has a lot of scans.) Plus, the publication includes insider profiles on director Brett Ratner, Liz Taylor, and Elia Kazan. As well, the article on former talent agent Pat Dollard, who has made a pro-war documentary and fancies himself as a neocon version of Hunter S. Thompson, is worth a read. (Images via Vanity Fair)

On Sick Leave

I'm sick. I'll be back in a few days.









(Image via Imdb.com)

Rarely Seen Dog

As part of its film series honoring composer Ennio Morricone, Film Forum is screening Sam Fuller's "White Dog," a flick that I've been dying to see for ages. Not only does it fit the bill for my own controversial film roster, but it stars '70s child actress Kristy McNichol. The 1982 movie is about a dog that has been trained to attack only African-Americans. Needless to say, "White Dog" was shelved for a decade and was never released theatrically. In addition, it's hard to find on DVD. My fascination with Kristy McNichol dates back to "Family" and especially after she had a breakdown in the '80s and dropped out of sight. I'm currently renting a bunch of K.M. DVDs and will definitely post on her. (Image via Film Forum)

Exiled in NY

I'm secretly thrilled that Turkish writer Orhan Pamuk is now living in exile in New York City. I'm sorry that he's left his beloved Istanbul, but I'm such a fan that I'd love to come upon Pamuk on a city bus and say, "Oh, hi." (Not too far-fetched, considering that I once spied Salman Rushdie at the Met when he was officially still in hiding.) After the recent assassination of a journalist in Turkey who talked openly about the Armenian massacre, the heat's been turned up on writers who speak their minds. (Image via Milliyet.com)

Paint It Black (Or A Really Deep Blue)

The above image captures my first impression upon entering the Mark Grotjahn exhibit at Anton Kern gallery: a bunch of black canvases. But hold on. Step closer and inspect, and you'll be rewarded. First, these paintings aren't even black but a deep midnight blue that bleeds into blackish blue. Second, the texture is so dense that your fingertips will itch to touch. You would swear that the artist painted on a raised grained wood. Grotjahn describes these works as "butterfly paintings"; however, the images look more like black stars exploding in deep space. (Images via Anton Kern gallery)

Om, No

Interested in hearing about transcendental
meditation? No? How about listening to David Lynch rave about it for a half hour? Now, do I have your attention? Here's audio of Lynch being interviewed about one of his many obsessions at Barnes & Noble, which I attended. I had a dilly of time working the B&N Windows player, so good luck. (Here's the site with more multimedia stuff on Lynch.) (Image via Kafard.com)

Slumming It

This may be old news, but it's news to me: Drew Barrymore will play Little Edie in the fictional adaptation of the Maysles Brothers' documentary "Grey Gardens." I see a slight resemblance, but isn't Drew a tad bit too young? Plus, I think I'm OD'ing on the cult obsession of "GG." First, Broadway hopped on board, and now Hollywood is going to give it a go.(Image via i70photobucket.com)

Earning His Stripes

Stripes and solids, canvas and Plexiglas, past and present, inside and outside. Bortolami Dayan gallery's presentation of Daniel Buren's work seems to have it all. Within the gallery are Buren's studies of stripes and fabric from the 1960s. These minimalist paintings seem to be an ode to the awning. Outside in an empty lot underneath an abandoned subway line are recent works. These suspended colored Plexiglas squares reflect the natural light, and I'm sure will look even more incandescent after the predicted snowstorm hits on Wednesday. (Images via Bortolami Dayan gallery)

A-ha Moments

Take a Tom Snyder-style character, have him host a spoof talk show like 1977's "Fernwood Tonight," and set it in London. That's what "Knowing Me, Knowing You" is like. Wildly popular in Britain, this 1994 talk show parody stars Steve Coogan as Alan Partridge. This series is very British and very dry, so dry that sometimes the humor doesn't hit you until the next day. Alan Partridge is known for his signature "A-ha" line, which comes from the Abba song, of course ("Knowing me, knowing you, A-ha"). Typically, each show devolves into mayhem as control-freak Partridge loses his British manners with uncooperative guests. I only wish there were more episodes available on DVD.

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.

"The Italian Job" (1969), directed by Peter Collinson: Didn't crack a smile and yawned a lot while watching this comedy heist caper.

Art + Pop = Trash

To keep up with the art world, not only do you have to read fashion magazines, like W, which consistently has features on and spreads by artists, but you have to start reading political mags as well. Jed Perl's article in The New Republic dissects why the art world is in the toilet. He savages Chelsea gallery owners and artists, such as John Currin and Lisa Yuskavage, who practice "laissez-faire aesthetics," that is, artwork that has no meaning because anything can be read into it. It elevates pop culture to high art but with no bite, no irony, and no critique. My summary barely does justice to this intriguing article, so check out the issue if you can still find it on the newsstands.

Officewear

The clothes are designed for men, but I think that they would look great on women. Designed by Thom Browne, who is known for his transgressive streak, the clothes look pretty silly on men. Still, I think the suit pictured above would look fabulous on me--minus the ski mask. (Image via Men.Style.com)

The Crumb Effect

Ever since Robert Hughes compared renegade cartoonist Robert Crumb to Brueghel, art gallery owners actually consider comics to be fine art. I ain't buying it. (And I'm a person who can wax poetic about Ernie Bushmiller.) At Julie Saul gallery, about 40 of Roz Chast's cartoons are on display. I've seen Chast's work in the New Yorker, and it's smart and funny, but does it truly deserve to be hung in a gallery? (Images via Julie Saul Gallery)

Mannequin Maquette

It's Fashion Week again in NYC, and I'm hooked again on watching unedited coverage of the shows on WNYC. One of the designers I like to follow is Alice Roi. In a recent article, Roi cited Madeline of children’s books fame as an inspiration for her Fall 2007 collection.
After seeing the photo of Roi's sketches, I checked out her show online and found some pix that look surprisingly like the designer's conception. Now, does that sketch remind me of Madeline? Nope. But I still applaud Roi for successfully translating her idea into something concrete. (Images via NY Times, Elle.com)

Judging an Author by Her Cover

After maxing out my renewels, I returned Marisha Pessl's "Special Topics in Calamity Physics" to the library yesterday. Although I had a hard time getting into this 514-paged novel, I eventually warmed up to it and felt I had found another "The Secret History." However, my reading habits started to lag big time after I read this profile on Pessl. Two problems: she's cheerleader pretty, and she's rich. (Her husband is a hedge fund manager.) This image of her in her spacious apartment literally haunted me every time I opened the book. I stopped reading two weeks ago at page 293. I might check out the book again to prove to myself I'm not so shallow. (Image via NY Times)

Transfiguration

One exhibit uses Samuel Beckett as a jumping-off point, while the other deals with FBI documents on surveillance during the Red Scare. Despite the different subject matter, Peter Welz's and Jenny Perlin's works at The Kitchen are quite similar in how they reinterpret their source material. And that's why this show is so refreshing. Welz transposed a Beckett phrase into a dance, which was then filmed. The filmed movements were then drawn onto paper, and that drawing was used as inspiration for a sculpture. Wow. Similarly, Perlin uses one medium (film) to reinterpret another (written word). Filming in a stop-action animation, the transcript is scribbled across the screen. The word "inaudible" is comically written again and again. Perlin's other film recreates the actual recorded conversation over ominous shots of apartment doors and long hallways. (Images via The Kitchen)

At Half-Mast

When I walked past the new Frank Gehry-designed building in Chelsea, I thought that it wasn't yet finished. Turns out that I'm wrong. Despite the fact that the office building looks like the top half was chopped off, the structure is set to open in a month. The 10-floor building, known as "The Sails," is located near the Hudson River and doesn't quite fit in with all the grungy old warehouses in this art gallery area. Still, when I spied one of the fritted glass windows cracked and lying on the sidewalk for removal, I was tempted to snatch it and hang it on my apartment wall. (I did try to pick it up, but it must have weighed about 300 lbs.) (Image via NY Sun)

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.

"Soylent Green" (1973) directed by Richard Fleischer: Don't know what all the fuss is about.

(Image via Idata.over-blog.com)

Bomb Threat

I smell a bomb. Here's a sure sign that "Factory Girl," the new Edie Sedgwick biopic, may be a dud. The latest gossip--or "leak"--about the flick is that its stars, Sienna Miller and Hayden Christensen, may have had real sex in one scene. This type of leak--or rather, carefully placed item--is standard procedure when a movie is mediocre. The studio's publicity department will contact gossip columnists to report that some sex scene in the flop is outrageous or "for real." Damn, I was actually looking forward to seeing this film. (Image via Artnet.com)

Superlative Superlatives

The critics' superlatives to describe Martín Ramírez are superlative. The New York Times' Roberta Smith proclaims that the Mexican artist is "simply one of the greatest artists of the 20th century," while The New Yorker's Peter Schjeldahl writes, "He’s one of my favorite artists, period." Some of you may be thinking, "Ramírez? Who dat?" He's a Mexican "outsider artist," i.e., no formal training and spent most of his life in mental institutions. The American Folk Art Museum is showcasing Ramírez's work, and the critics are in rapture. I'll have to see it to believe it. I have a slight problem with artists who wear their "self-taught" status like a mortar board. I look at the work and say, "Yup. He's self-taught all right." (Images via American Folk Art Museum)

Shop the Pain Away

Here's an exhibition about our consumer culture minus the smug factor. That's an achievement. Brian Ulrich started taking a series of photos after the U.S. government encouraged Americans to go shopping in response to 9/11. These images on display at Julie Saul gallery capture scenes we see every day, but suddenly the familiar becomes perverse, such as the photo of a train-line of checkout cashiers at Target. Still, Ulrich holds back the Lefty Tsk-Tsk card. There's a feeling of marvel mixed with hangover headache because of the overabundance. (Images via Julie Saul gallery)