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The performance space and dance school ...read more]]>
- http://ww2.kqed.org/news/2014/12/20/dance-mission-theater-rent-increase-worries-artists/
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The performance space and dance school …read more -
Source:: Arts News
-]]> -The transportation isn’t entirely complete, especially when unavoidable elements of the library’s physical space interrupt the installation of vitrines, wall text and objects. But reading first-hand accounts by Miller’s colleagues of his various contributions to both the Exploratorium and scientific discovery, I wished I’d wandered the museum with him at any point in his twenty year tenure. Documentation and ephemera will never be as entertaining as the man himself, but Light Walk: Bob Miller and the Exploratorium presents one man’s creativity, playfulness and lasting impact on an institution, leaving the viewer itching for the simple tools of his trade: sunlight, paper and an irrepressible curiosity.
-Light Walk is installed on the library’s fourth floor, rubbing elbows with the art, music and recreation collections. Four large cases present short anecdotes about Miller and related materials from the Exploratorium archives: photographs, magazine clippings, patent documents and museum publications. The bits and pieces coalesce into a picture of Miller — much like his Light Walk, an exploration of sunlight, shadow, refraction and perception builds on basic demonstrations to build a larger understanding of the natural world.
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Before he met Exploratorium director Frank Oppenheimer in 1970, Miller lived a number of lives. Roaming from the White Sands Proving Ground to India and the South Pacific, he worked in the Army, for IBM, as a postal carrier and merchant marine. After this Renaissance man lifestyle, he helped shape the Exploratorium for nearly two decades, in its exhibits and its ethos.
- -Peter Richards, another longtime Exploratorium colleague whose name might be familiar as co-creator of The Wave Organ, details the development of one of Miller’s signature exhibits. Richards depicts a fledgling institution where getting an NEA grant for the construction of Sun Painting’s mechanically-mounted mirror is as simple as a letter from Oppenheimer to the federal agency. A prevailing attitude of “we think this might work, let’s find out what happens” makes these early days at the museum seem thrilling.
-Through simple materials and methods, Miller teased science lessons from everyday phenomena. A display of provisional tools used in Light Walk demonstrates the dictum of “it’s not the stuff that’s important, but rather the phenomena that the stuff helps illuminate.”
- -Some of Miller’s exhibitions were based on actual scientific and engineering discoveries. With Sally Duensing, he published “The Cheshire Cat Effect” in the journal Perception, findings related to the strange things that happen when our eyes see two different and competing things. Based on Duesing’s retelling (and the photographs accompanying her text) it appears Miller really was fulfilling Oppenheimer’s invitation to “come and play” at the Exploratorium.
-Nowhere is his playful nature more evident than in the short silent video, Bob Miller: A Little Insight, by David Barker. Against the aural backdrop of the fourth floor elevator bank (“ding! ding!”), reference desk questions, and the busy typing of library patrons, Barker captures Miller fooling around at his home in Cedar Lake, the subject sporting a Willie Nelson-style bandana around his white head. Miller conducts magic tricks with his reflection and demonstrates some of his signature Light Walk moves. The camera ranges over prisms, mirrors and refracted light.
-The library’s version of Light Walk is a selection of good stories punctuated by three of Miller’s creations — a prototype of the Sun Painting mirror that looks positively ancient, a meticulously crafted rack of mirrored slats, and a pinhole portrait of Miller himself (US patent #6000803). The whole exhibition is encircled by small wall plaques relaying bits of Miller’s Light Walk lessons in text. The conversational tone and broken structure of the plaques make true comprehension nearly impossible, but necessitate a visit to the present-day Exploratorium for a modern-day Light Walk, an “institution” the museum still provides, which was perhaps the goal of this installation all along.
-Light Walk: Bob Miller and the Exploratorium is on view in the Art, Music & Recreation Center of the San Francisco Public Library, Main Branch, through February 5, 2015. For more information visit exploratorium.edu. -
]]>If you’re interested in visiting the city’s illuminated installations, the SF Travel Association has compiled a map and a list of tours and other events. (KQED critic Christian Frock rates the 16 works listed on the map as ranging “from meh to spectacular” — read her commentary. ) A free light art bike tour this Saturday will give cyclists a chance to shine. Meanwhile, enjoy Peter Ruocco’s video exploration of these dazzling works. -
]]>Songs that were performed include Snoop Dogg’s “Gin And Juice,” Digable Planets’ “Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat),” and many others. Read a statement from the curator of the event, Marc Bamuthi Joseph, here. (Also, we asked Joseph to pick his Top 5 hip-hop songs from 1993, which you can read here.)
-Enjoyed that? Watch this performance, by Ensemble Mik Nawooj, of the Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.” from that same night.
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Icons are sought after and are coming to be needed more and more. Perhaps it is easier to understand an image than it is to know the world, let alone how to change it.
-Uploading an icon to a profile picture or posting a response or article bleeds into thousands who are doing the same and suddenly an entire social media feed is parroting the same visual calls. Today, protest icons are disseminated rapidly and with such reach that, while the news is mired in arguing over factual evidence of whether or not Mike Brown’s hands were actually raised or not, the image has already hit the streets. There thousands of protesters begin to raise their hands and take photos with their hoodies pulled tight or make videos of themselves dumping buckets of ice over their heads.
-Images lead to creative actions. For once, the value of these images is separate from the art or entertainment markets, propositioning us to rethink the worlds and systems occupied by them. Some of the most potent protest icons of 2014 appeared in just the last four months of the year.
- -Thousands are still protesting across the country in the aftermath of the non-indictments of the police officers involved in the deaths of Mike Brown and Eric Garner (along with many others). Images of hands raised above one’s head in a “hands up, don’t shoot” position have flooded the media from footage of protesters across the nation to members of Congress on the House floor. On December 1, five St. Louis Rams’ players held their hands up during pregame introductions in a peaceful and poignant use of their public platform to millions of viewers. Their stadium is located only 11 miles from the battlegrounds of Ferguson.
-Hands up, don’t shoot is bigger than Mike Brown’s case, and is reminiscent of Tommie Smith and John Carlos, who bravely raised black-gloved fists during the playing of the “Star Spangled Banner” at their 1968 Olympic medal ceremony. Like Smith and Carlos, whose raised fists aligned with Black Power but also appealed for greater human rights, the “hands up, don’t shoot” icon has come to confront a history of perceived systemic and disproportionate police brutality, while calling for transparency within the criminal justice system and the confrontation of institutional racism. The action is a reminder that all is not yet equal and serves as a desperate proposition that we are all a part of this system, no matter how far you are from Ferguson, or Staten Island, or Sanford, or Fruitvale Station.
- -The Internet is the most critical tool in activism and protest. Its utility comes in its speed, lack of regulation and ubiquity, but the current war to privatize the Internet could pose a threat not just to the pending revolution, but to one’s daily online activity as well.
-On September 10, 2014, dubbed Internet Slow Down Day, you may have noticed that many of your usual sites were loading… and loading… and loading…
-The ‘spinning wheel of death’ is part of an online campaign in support of what is most commonly known as net neutrality, or the call for an open and free Internet. This year, the FCC began considering new regulations that would, among other things, create “Internet fast lanes” where broadband service companies, like Comcast and AT&T would be able to collect fees from content companies, such as Netflix or Amazon, for special priority to their networks.
-In response, 40,000 websites, including Netflix, Tumblr, Vimeo, Kickstarter and Etsy all participated by installing mock loading icons on their home pages — both a poignant protest and an ominous forewarning. Response was so great that the comments section of the FCC was shut down. The Internet still offers great opportunity that does not exist anywhere else — this is part of its value and it’s up to its users to keep it that way. After all, if the privatization of the Internet allows speed to be manipulated by the highest bidder and corporate interest, how can one be sure they’ll even find the revolution?
- -On October 29, 2014, mattresses and pillows became unexpected symbols confronting sexual assault on college campuses. Inspired by the activist/performance art of Columbia University senior Emma Sulkowicz, who has been carrying her dorm mattress with her everywhere she goes, even to class, since September. Sulkowicz claims to have been raped on the first day of her sophomore year by another Columbia student.
-The accused was ultimately found not guilty — Sulkowicz’s appeals were dismissed — and he still attends classes at Columbia. In protest of the way her case was handled and the lack of seriousness afforded to her accusations, Sulkowicz will carry this mattress with her until her accused rapist leaves the school; she was one of three students to accuse him of assault.
-Carry That Weight, was a day of collective support and action confronting the unforgivable amount of assault that occurs on American college campuses—one in five students report some experience of assault or attempted assault, compared to the many presumed not to report anything.
-Mattresses and pillows are often the private specters of sexual assault survivors confront daily, but have now become a public icon for the inequity and inability for post-secondary institutions to protect and provide safe environments for all students to learn. Pointing to the seriousness of safety for students, President Obama recently launched It’s On Us, a national campaign to raise awareness and end sexual assault on college campuses.
-It is on us to acknowledge the gravity of a system that protects or dismisses sexual predators and a public that takes more interest in a young woman’s mattress than in her accusations of rape. Sulkowicz is one of twenty-eight students filing a Title IX federal claim against Columbia University.
- -Expecting a system or government to care for its’ citizens shouldn’t be so hard to imagine. But in Hong Kong, over a hundred thousand protesters filled the streets in response to China reneging on the promise to grant it open elections by 2017. After it was announced that the candidates for election would be vetted by China first, students took to the streets. For two months since September, pro-democracy activists occupied the streets of Hong Kong.
-Hong Kong police responded with liberal use of pepper spray and activists found that umbrellas, sometimes turned inside out, were an effective way to shield their bodies from the attacks. The umbrellas came to have a creative utility — they protected activists from the sweltering midday sun, along with shielding them from pepper spray and tear gas. They were sometimes painted bright colors, donned with activist slogans or were joined with other umbrellas to form symbols when seen from above.
-The images are reminiscent of the 1989 student protests in Tiananmen Square with many connections drawn to the iconic image, ‘Tank Man,’ who appears to bravely step in front of a column of tanks, a lone hero performing an isolated act of courage. Yet, he was one hero amongst thousands who happened to be cropped out of the famous photo. In Hong Kong the protesters used their umbrellas to shield their own bodies, but most effectively brought umbrellas together to form a giant collective shield over the mass of protesters.
-Images of the umbrella in Hong Kong fundamentally capture the collective agency needed in movements of change and serve as a reminder that — in numbers — even a flimsy umbrella can become an impenetrable force.
-And when these protests fade, their visual legacies will be remade and exchanged again as reminders that while movements may end the fight for human rights battles on. -
]]>It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
]]>-
- -The Roots have been such a mainstay on late-night TV that it’s easy to forget they were once stars of the touring circuit as the world’s greatest live hip-hop band. If you’re among the many who sigh when they see the group’s fiery, erudite MC Black Thought relegated to the sidelines on Jimmy Kimmel, then get thee to the Fox, where the Roots’ legendary live show lands this week. Whether running through one of their legendary “Hip-Hop 101″ medleys or picking hits from a career of solid studio albums, there’s no mistaking the band’s skill in a genre dominated by DJs. Details and ticket information here.
-In 1969, in a historic intersection of space travel and modern art, NASA invited American artist Robert Rauchenberg to visit the launch of Apollo 11, the first manned space flight to the moon. At Cape Canaveral, Rauchenberg was given free reign to visit NASA’s facilities, with only one directive: to interpret the moment in his work. Having collected over 20 lithographs, collages and drawings, the Cantor presents this rare work together for the first time in an American museum. Photos of Rauchenberg at the Kennedy Space Center and other accounts of the time round out the exhibition. Details here.
-At 41, jazz bassist Christian McBride has done it all. He’s played with Herbie Hancock, Diana Krall, Chick Corea and many, many others. He’s led a big band in award-winning albums and performances. He’s even strapped on the electric bass for his fusion quintet, Inside Straight. Now, as the year winds down, McBride returns to the basics of a classic piano trio. At the keys is Christian Sands, an inventive player who can swing from standards to blues and back, while Ulysses Owens holds down the drums. Details and ticket information here.
-In what’s now an annual tradition, the UC Santa Cruz alumni David Lowery brings his two bands, Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven, back to the Bay Area for an end-of-the-year residency. Cracker’s new double album Berkeley to Bakersfield drops plenty of Bay Area references, from Rasputin’s to People’s Park, and Camper Van Beethoven always bring back memorable hits like “Take the Skinheads Bowling” and “Pictures of Matchstick Men.” Expect a fun-loving, retro crowd—and maybe even a little bit of Spotify criticism.
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A large man with an endearing lisp, Ron Funches is a one-of-a-kind comedian: he takes the manic style of the greats and flips it and reverses it, until the long silences between his surreal stories eventually turn into their own jokes. At the Punchline, Funches appears with Nick Youssef, another Southern California comedian who can take a simple thing like Marcy Playground’s innocuous 1990s hit song “Sex and Candy” and weave it into a spiel on the perils of aging. Together, they guide the crowd through the post-Holiday hangover. Details and ticket information here.
-Ensemble Mik Nawooj (EMN) is the brainchild of composer/pianist JooWan Kim, who introduces western-European classical techniques into hip-hop, rock, and pop. The group’s lineup includes traditional Pierrot ensemble instrumentation (flute, clarinet, violin, cello and piano) with a lyric soprano, deep funk drums, a heavy contrabass and two featured MCs. Kim is a classically trained composer who holds degrees from Berklee College of Music and San Francisco Conservatory of Music.
-“Nobody has ever attempted anything like this on such a large scale, or with such sophistication.” – NPR
-From the same evening, watch the Kev Choice Ensemble perform Saafir’s “Light Sleeper”:
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]]>Oakland-based artist Kev Choice is a pianist, MC, producer, bandleader, sideman, music historian and urban griot dedicated to cultural expression. Through his band Kev Choice Ensemble, he produces and performs his own material, including original jazz and classical compositions as well as classical, jazz, and funk-inspired hip-hop.
- -As a teenager, Choice played in classical and jazz ensembles as part of the UC Berkeley Young Musicians Program, and continued his musical studies at Xavier University of Louisiana in New Orleans and Southern Illinois University. Choice has toured with Michael Franti and Spearhead, Lyrics Born, Too $hort, Ledisi, Goapele, Mos Def, Digable Planets and Lauryn Hill.
-From the same performance, you can also watch Ensemble Mik Nawooj perform Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.”:
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]]>McHenry and his best friend Chris Dyer are the only two that stuck to it over the years. Now the project has a name, One Thousand Thousand, and a mission to produce one million paintings. Although the impetus was simply to make as much art as possible surrounded by his friends, it eventually took McHenry down an often solitary path. Today he is reaching out to other artists to participate in the project to assure the goal is reached in his lifetime.
-“One Thousand Thousand is Christopher Dyer and Jason McHenry,” McHenry is quick to point out. “I honestly do more of the work, produce more pieces; he’s a senior executive at a company in Denver. We’re like partners in crime artistically. All the big projects that we’ve done, we’ve done together. So we push each other that way.”
- -McHenry, 43, and his wife, Cathy, live in the South Bay now. He was born and raised in St. Louis, MO. His formative years are as colorful as the art he began painting just a short time later. Describing his youth, McHenry says, “I was the worst. I was raised by bikers. My whole family was involved with porn and tattoos.”
-Like many kids growing up around a family-owned business, McHenry was asked to pitch in and help out from time to time. He earned his allowance by way of a broom and a bucket of bleach. He swept the floors of the family’s adult business and soaked clean the quarters he picked up in his bucket over night. The next day he’d dry them off and head to the arcade to play Pacman.
- -McHenry went to four different high schools in the 9th grade. He kept getting kicked out of them. They finally decided to have him tested and realized there wasn’t anything wrong with him; the tests revealed that he was both highly intelligent and exceptionally creative. As a result, he was sent to Central Visual and Performing Arts High, a magnet school in the St. Louis Public School district, which describes itself as being “focused on synergistically developing both the artistic and academic student.”
-McHenry describes it as being focused and condensed periods for academics with larger blocks of time for creative expression. “It’s a lot like FAME,” he says.
-“In high school and when the project first started the whole point of it was that we would just be pushing each other to make new art. So Chris wouldn’t wanna not make anything during the week, because then when it came time for us to show each other what we had done, he’d get savaged. Like ‘What? You didn’t make anthing? Get at it!’ You had to produce, because everybody else was. That was the point of it in a lot of ways.”
-“We’d also sit around and do them together as a group. There’d be 5 or 6 or 10 people and we’d all make them on the spot. Sort of like artist trading cards before there were artist trading cards — limited, one-offs.”
-Were you guys thinking of it like a factory?
-“In a way, yeah. Those are all big influences. Warhol and stuff like that. That’s when Mark Kostabi really got famous and he was known for not even picking up a brush. He would basically just sign stuff. It was like that kind of dialog. At the same time, the work was the work, but it was really an excuse that we could all just sit and talk about these conversations. Because we’re high school students, but we’re skippin’ school to go up to Chicago to see some opening at the art museum up there.“
-What about the Reverend Howard Finster? The way you number your works reminds me a bit of him. Are you aware of Finster yet?
-“Yes, in high school around that time. He was a huge influence. That’s where the idea had to have come from at some point. Part of it. Part of it was Jean-Michel Basquiat doing little anti-product postcards. I think I found Finster by way of Talking Heads and Little Creatures, and R.E.M. ‘cause there was an R.E.M. cover in Rolling Stone around early to mid-eighties with an article inside on Howard Finster.”
- -So you keep doing this all through high school. Then what?
-“Some of us went to the same college afterwards, so we kept doing it. I had saved them all from that time. I had 100. Then I had 500. Then I had 1000.”
-“I had awesome scholarship offers based on my portfolio, but I had a crap G.P.A. So I went to a community college at first to get a demonstrable grade point average. And then I got a scholarship to Saint Louis University and eventually I finished my degree at University of Nothern Colorado.”
-You shared with me that you had learned of the outsider artist, Henry Darger, around your second year in college. How did seeing his work for the first time affect you?
-“Oh profoundly. Darger was part of the discipline,” explains McHenry. “There was a Darger exhibit at Chicago Museum, I believe, and one of the pieces was this cross-section of a board that every day, or every other day, or seven times a day, he would do a coat of paint. Just a layer of paint. So what you were looking at was like tree rings basically. The board was a two-by-four, but the thing was like (in my memory at least) a foot and half or so thick. Just a lot. Whoa, that’s like hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of layers of paint. That was remarkable to me.”
-Like Darger, McHenry and associates have been religiously laying down the layers of paint and mixed media day after day for over twenty years now. He’s created and painstakingly documented more than 330,000 works in the One Thousand Thousand edition to date. To put that into perspective, imagine laying the 7.125 x 5.25 inch pieces end to end length-wise, that’s over 37 miles of art!
-While One Thousand Thousand has never been about making money, you can find available works online reasonably priced around $5. I’ve also seen them at festivals and events completely framed for just $10.
-I’m including a Call to Artists from McHenry’s Anti-Product website here. “In the hindsight that is afforded to us after 20 years of going at this project, we have come to realize that it would be a whole lot easier for us to reach our goal of a million paintings in some timely fashion should we get a little help.
-“If you are interested in participating in this project in some way you are seriously encouraged to contact us and let us know.”
-Find out more about the One Thousand Thousand project at anti-product.com. -
]]>The performance space and dance school ...read more]]>
It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
-]]>It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
]]>It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
-]]>-
- -The Roots have been such a mainstay on late-night TV that it’s easy to forget they were once stars of the touring circuit as the world’s greatest live hip-hop band. If you’re among the many who sigh when they see the group’s fiery, erudite MC Black Thought relegated to the sidelines on Jimmy Kimmel, then get thee to the Fox, where the Roots’ legendary live show lands this week. Whether running through one of their legendary “Hip-Hop 101″ medleys or picking hits from a career of solid studio albums, there’s no mistaking the band’s skill in a genre dominated by DJs. Details and ticket information here.
-In 1969, in a historic intersection of space travel and modern art, NASA invited American artist Robert Rauchenberg to visit the launch of Apollo 11, the first manned space flight to the moon. At Cape Canaveral, Rauchenberg was given free reign to visit NASA’s facilities, with only one directive: to interpret the moment in his work. Having collected over 20 lithographs, collages and drawings, the Cantor presents this rare work together for the first time in an American museum. Photos of Rauchenberg at the Kennedy Space Center and other accounts of the time round out the exhibition. Details here.
-At 41, jazz bassist Christian McBride has done it all. He’s played with Herbie Hancock, Diana Krall, Chick Corea and many, many others. He’s led a big band in award-winning albums and performances. He’s even strapped on the electric bass for his fusion quintet, Inside Straight. Now, as the year winds down, McBride returns to the basics of a classic piano trio. At the keys is Christian Sands, an inventive player who can swing from standards to blues and back, while Ulysses Owens holds down the drums. Details and ticket information here.
-In what’s now an annual tradition, the UC Santa Cruz alumni David Lowery brings his two bands, Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven, back to the Bay Area for an end-of-the-year residency. Cracker’s new double album Berkeley to Bakersfield drops plenty of Bay Area references, from Rasputin’s to People’s Park, and Camper Van Beethoven always bring back memorable hits like “Take the Skinheads Bowling” and “Pictures of Matchstick Men.” Expect a fun-loving, retro crowd—and maybe even a little bit of Spotify criticism.
-- -
A large man with an endearing lisp, Ron Funches is a one-of-a-kind comedian: he takes the manic style of the greats and flips it and reverses it, until the long silences between his surreal stories eventually turn into their own jokes. At the Punchline, Funches appears with Nick Youssef, another Southern California comedian who can take a simple thing like Marcy Playground’s innocuous 1990s hit song “Sex and Candy” and weave it into a spiel on the perils of aging. Together, they guide the crowd through the post-Holiday hangover. Details and ticket information here.
-Ensemble Mik Nawooj (EMN) is the brainchild of composer/pianist JooWan Kim, who introduces western-European classical techniques into hip-hop, rock, and pop. The group’s lineup includes traditional Pierrot ensemble instrumentation (flute, clarinet, violin, cello and piano) with a lyric soprano, deep funk drums, a heavy contrabass and two featured MCs. Kim is a classically trained composer who holds degrees from Berklee College of Music and San Francisco Conservatory of Music.
-“Nobody has ever attempted anything like this on such a large scale, or with such sophistication.” – NPR
-From the same evening, watch the Kev Choice Ensemble perform Saafir’s “Light Sleeper”:
--
-]]>Oakland-based artist Kev Choice is a pianist, MC, producer, bandleader, sideman, music historian and urban griot dedicated to cultural expression. Through his band Kev Choice Ensemble, he produces and performs his own material, including original jazz and classical compositions as well as classical, jazz, and funk-inspired hip-hop.
- -As a teenager, Choice played in classical and jazz ensembles as part of the UC Berkeley Young Musicians Program, and continued his musical studies at Xavier University of Louisiana in New Orleans and Southern Illinois University. Choice has toured with Michael Franti and Spearhead, Lyrics Born, Too $hort, Ledisi, Goapele, Mos Def, Digable Planets and Lauryn Hill.
-From the same performance, you can also watch Ensemble Mik Nawooj perform Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.”:
--
-]]>McHenry and his best friend Chris Dyer are the only two that stuck to it over the years. Now the project has a name, One Thousand Thousand, and a mission to produce one million paintings. Although the impetus was simply to make as much art as possible surrounded by his friends, it eventually took McHenry down an often solitary path. Today he is reaching out to other artists to participate in the project to assure the goal is reached in his lifetime.
-“One Thousand Thousand is Christopher Dyer and Jason McHenry,” McHenry is quick to point out. “I honestly do more of the work, produce more pieces; he’s a senior executive at a company in Denver. We’re like partners in crime artistically. All the big projects that we’ve done, we’ve done together. So we push each other that way.”
- -McHenry, 43, and his wife, Cathy, live in the South Bay now. He was born and raised in St. Louis, MO. His formative years are as colorful as the art he began painting just a short time later. Describing his youth, McHenry says, “I was the worst. I was raised by bikers. My whole family was involved with porn and tattoos.”
-Like many kids growing up around a family-owned business, McHenry was asked to pitch in and help out from time to time. He earned his allowance by way of a broom and a bucket of bleach. He swept the floors of the family’s adult business and soaked clean the quarters he picked up in his bucket over night. The next day he’d dry them off and head to the arcade to play Pacman.
- -McHenry went to four different high schools in the 9th grade. He kept getting kicked out of them. They finally decided to have him tested and realized there wasn’t anything wrong with him; the tests revealed that he was both highly intelligent and exceptionally creative. As a result, he was sent to Central Visual and Performing Arts High, a magnet school in the St. Louis Public School district, which describes itself as being “focused on synergistically developing both the artistic and academic student.”
-McHenry describes it as being focused and condensed periods for academics with larger blocks of time for creative expression. “It’s a lot like FAME,” he says.
-“In high school and when the project first started the whole point of it was that we would just be pushing each other to make new art. So Chris wouldn’t wanna not make anything during the week, because then when it came time for us to show each other what we had done, he’d get savaged. Like ‘What? You didn’t make anthing? Get at it!’ You had to produce, because everybody else was. That was the point of it in a lot of ways.”
-“We’d also sit around and do them together as a group. There’d be 5 or 6 or 10 people and we’d all make them on the spot. Sort of like artist trading cards before there were artist trading cards — limited, one-offs.”
-Were you guys thinking of it like a factory?
-“In a way, yeah. Those are all big influences. Warhol and stuff like that. That’s when Mark Kostabi really got famous and he was known for not even picking up a brush. He would basically just sign stuff. It was like that kind of dialog. At the same time, the work was the work, but it was really an excuse that we could all just sit and talk about these conversations. Because we’re high school students, but we’re skippin’ school to go up to Chicago to see some opening at the art museum up there.“
-What about the Reverend Howard Finster? The way you number your works reminds me a bit of him. Are you aware of Finster yet?
-“Yes, in high school around that time. He was a huge influence. That’s where the idea had to have come from at some point. Part of it. Part of it was Jean-Michel Basquiat doing little anti-product postcards. I think I found Finster by way of Talking Heads and Little Creatures, and R.E.M. ‘cause there was an R.E.M. cover in Rolling Stone around early to mid-eighties with an article inside on Howard Finster.”
- -So you keep doing this all through high school. Then what?
-“Some of us went to the same college afterwards, so we kept doing it. I had saved them all from that time. I had 100. Then I had 500. Then I had 1000.”
-“I had awesome scholarship offers based on my portfolio, but I had a crap G.P.A. So I went to a community college at first to get a demonstrable grade point average. And then I got a scholarship to Saint Louis University and eventually I finished my degree at University of Nothern Colorado.”
-You shared with me that you had learned of the outsider artist, Henry Darger, around your second year in college. How did seeing his work for the first time affect you?
-“Oh profoundly. Darger was part of the discipline,” explains McHenry. “There was a Darger exhibit at Chicago Museum, I believe, and one of the pieces was this cross-section of a board that every day, or every other day, or seven times a day, he would do a coat of paint. Just a layer of paint. So what you were looking at was like tree rings basically. The board was a two-by-four, but the thing was like (in my memory at least) a foot and half or so thick. Just a lot. Whoa, that’s like hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of layers of paint. That was remarkable to me.”
-Like Darger, McHenry and associates have been religiously laying down the layers of paint and mixed media day after day for over twenty years now. He’s created and painstakingly documented more than 330,000 works in the One Thousand Thousand edition to date. To put that into perspective, imagine laying the 7.125 x 5.25 inch pieces end to end length-wise, that’s over 37 miles of art!
-While One Thousand Thousand has never been about making money, you can find available works online reasonably priced around $5. I’ve also seen them at festivals and events completely framed for just $10.
-I’m including a Call to Artists from McHenry’s Anti-Product website here. “In the hindsight that is afforded to us after 20 years of going at this project, we have come to realize that it would be a whole lot easier for us to reach our goal of a million paintings in some timely fashion should we get a little help.
-“If you are interested in participating in this project in some way you are seriously encouraged to contact us and let us know.”
-Find out more about the One Thousand Thousand project at anti-product.com. -
-]]>Sony has made The Interview available online — like right now. If you want to spend Christmas Eve day watching it, you can …read more -
Source:: Arts News
- -]]>“Silent night, deadly night …” sang about 50 people, including numerous children. That was one ...read more]]>
“Silent night, deadly night …” sang about 50 people, including numerous children. That was one …read more -
Source:: Arts News
- -]]>Here’s what was on my turntable in 2014.
-I listened to this album to be transported to a different world, and it never failed me. What’s more, the world to which it transported me kept changing. FKA Twigs is the stage name of Tahliah Barnett, who has been getting just as much press for dating Robert Pattinson as for her music, which I suppose is inevitable. After an EP that yielded the minimalist masterpiece “Water Me,” her debut full-length is such a brilliant mix of compact songwriting and off-kilter sounds that it feels like a foregone conclusion. But really, there’s nothing foregone about it. Even after repeat listening, the billowing oscillations of “Two Weeks” or spare rattling of “Pendulum” still emerge through the speakers entirely unexpected; amid all the “weird R&B” in the world, nothing sounds like this album does. Imagine if a pod from the International Space Station landed inside a Gothic cathedral and hooked its circuit board to the organ while a singular figure emerged from the choir to sing about desire and flesh and trust, maybe? When I saw her at the Great American Music Hall in August, she moved like a gazelle, awash in red silk. On LP1, she creates a universe of her own and invites you to settle in.
After watching the Giants win the World Series on the gigantic Civic Center screen with thousands of other fans in October, and after hugging and high-fiving absolute strangers beneath a hailstorm of bootleg fireworks to the sounds of an impromptu Dixieland band, I walked over to 1015 Folsom and let the terrifying abrasion of Ben Frost’s live set wash over me. This is not music you’ll be playing at Christmas dinner, folks: A U R O R A would be described as unlistenable noise by most people. But I couldn’t help putting it on again and again. Like FKA Twigs, it creates its own idiom, the rules and melodies of which become clearer over time. If nothing else, the album always served me well as a palate-cleanser, a cotton towel shoved through the ears to floss the brain. Beneath the jarring surface, there’s a lot of beauty to be had here.
Back in 1964, Bob Dylan sang about contemporary life—poetically, yes, but remember that he also did so directly, and humorously. As a 14-year-old, I fell in love with his references to Anita Ekberg, Yul Brynner, Elizabeth Taylor and Greasy Kid’s Stuff, whatever any of those things were. Now, I think about The Freewheelin’ when I listen to The Future’s Void. In 2014, Erika M. Anderson was widely said to have written a “post-internet” album, which really just means she spends some of The Future’s Void singing about contemporary life, which very naturally includes the internet. (Twenty years from now, a 14-year-old is going to hear it and wonder what a “selfie” is.) As she told me in June, “To make art right now that tries to talk about the landscape in the world, or in America, and not in any way acknowledge the internet? That just seems so unrealistic.” But The Future’s Void is, at its heart, a record about privacy, and the concept of self, and the ways modern life conspires to take that away from each and every one of us. I listened to this album to be reminded that Facebook can’t take everything.
In 2011, Liz Harris, newly single, took a residency in Portugal and wrote this stunning set of songs. They are fragile things, befitting one’s emotions after a breakup. Have you ever been on vacation somewhere, away from your regular life, and taken a walk through a park, and the whole world seems foreign but beautiful, and in one rare moment, you’re overcome and say to yourself, “I want this to last”? This album reminds me of those moments. I saw Harris in September, opening for Swans in Portland, playing a wordless sound-collage set. But Ruins has vocals that haven’t been so prominent in the mix since her 2008 gem Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill, and trying to make out the words takes a backseat to the soft beauty of it all. I turned to this record at night, usually, and thought of love, nature, and old friends.
And just like that, the guitarist for Fun starts another band, and the world has a handful of new catchy-as-hell anthems. Jack Antonoff will probably be tapped as a producer more than a frontman in the coming years, but his royalty checks from Taylor Swift can help fund Bleachers for many years to come, as far as I’m concerned. Antonoff, as your girlfriend will tell you, is dating Lena Dunham, and it’s hard to separate the idea of that relationship from these songs, many of which are the sort of excited, joyful songs one writes when they’re overcome with new love. I mean, “I Wanna Get Better“—isn’t that what most of us feel when someone’s given us so much happiness and inspiration? That we want to be the best possible version of ourselves for them in return? I listened to this album on road trips and turned it up loud and enjoyed being alive.
I’ll be the first to say that Common has made more than a few missteps in the past few years; his output since 2005’s Go has been spotty at best, embarrassing at worst. So it’s a relief that Nobody’s Smiling is so deeply rewarding. Dedicated to South Side Chicago and its ongoing homicide crisis, the record is a thoughtful rebuke to all Fox News commentators who believe, wrongly, that rap music fails to address “black-on-black” crime. What’s more, the production is left-field incredible and Common is back to form on the mic. In October, my wife and I were driving home from a show and listening to a mix of modern rap hits on KMEL—”Lifestyle,” “We Dem Boyz,” “Type of Way“—and she commented at how strange, stunted and yelpy rap music had become. Then the DJ played “The Neighborhood,” from this album, and it was like Autotune had never happened.
I have been to the mountaintop of mainstream country music, and I have drank from its overproduced, cornball sentimental riches. I have seen the concerts of Miranda Lambert, Trace Adkins, Luke Bryan, Dierks Bentley and Eric Church, and I have thoroughly enjoyed myself in the Coors-drinking throng. But this year I put the “alt” back into alt-country, and filled myself with this wonderful album by Sturgill Simpson. Though cosmic kickoff track “Turtles All the Way Down” gets most of the attention—and sure, there aren’t too many country songs that champion the virtues of DMT and LSD—the whole album’s a Nashville banger, with a well-done cover of When In Rome’s ’80s hit “The Promise” thrown in for good measure. Metamodern Sounds also has a secret weapon in the form of lead guitarist Laur Joamets, who turns his Telecaster into a buzzsaw on a moments’ notice. When I saw him at the Fillmore in November, Simpson and his band tore the place up like it was a Kentucky juke joint. Listening to this album reminded me about honesty in country music in 2014.
It’s no secret that San Francisco is changing, and with great challenges can come great art. Playland at the Beach is a five-song EP by San Francisco punk band Great Apes, and for my money it’s the most poetic address yet to the changing face of the city. Each song is “narrated” by a different building—Vesuvio’s, City Hall, an apartment building on Valencia—with local landmarks galore and a general tone of betrayal for a city’s lost culture. “What the city is essentially becoming is a homogenized, vanilla, adult Disneyland for the rich,” Great Apes frontman Brian Moss told me in November, “and with that, you’re basically erasing a cultural landscape of artists—or, as I’m referencing in the songs, certain elements of what people might deem as filth, but what’s really the raw, human diversity that I believe makes cities great.” Great Apes are part of that diversity, in a lineage stretching back to hallowed Mission District band Jawbreaker—whose gravelly vocals and way with words are probably the best-known touchstones for listeners of Playland at the Beach. I played this record while driving through San Francisco and thinking about the city’s future.
I’ve had my issues with corporate companies funding artists’ careers (behold Green Label Sound, Mountain Dew’s record label), but occasionally even I must throw up my arms and concede that sometimes the suits get it right. Tree is a unique Chicago rapper with a gruff voice who straddles old jazz and soul with style and wit; his song “Godlike,” which falls over itself in an off-time piano loop, dominated my life for a couple weeks in January. The funny thing is that when I ordered this record, it showed up with a note from Tree himself, sent from his home address. I guess Scion doesn’t do mailorder.
Brian Blade is an excellent drummer who plays with jazz greats like Joshua Redman and Wayne Shorter. He also records with Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and Iron & Wine. Straddling these two worlds is his Fellowship Band, and Landmarks is a stunning record of jazz composition, if short on jazz improvisation. Gone are the traditional solos in place of a rich, spiritual sound, and in this, it reminds me of Hank Jones and Charlie Haden’s Steal Away. “Shenandoah” is here as a signpost, and Blade’s New Orleans upbringing is applied to a swath of other southern sounds. A good Sunday-morning record to play, after Aretha Franklin’s Amazing Grace.
I’ll always go for a solid hardcore record with diary-entry lyrics, and Say Yes to Love is no exception. There’s nothing groundbreaking going on musically, of course, but singer Meredith Graves’ lyrics are so tremendous and, as it goes, very buried in the mix. (When I saw the band in May, Graves told the soundman to simply “make it as loud and horrible as possible.”) Though not as in-your-face, Perfect Pussy has a fearlessness reminiscent of riot grrrl pioneers Bikini Kill; here you can read a long, in-depth conversation between Graves and Bikini Kill’s Tobi Vail. I listened to this record for hope, and for strength.
Not that anyone could ever top Beyoncé’s surprise album release last year, but I’ve learned to hold off on these lists until December is mostly spent. And though this album is no Voodoo, D’Angelo’s sublime, burbling masterwork, it was exactly what the world needed in early December, post-Eric Garner and Mike Brown, post-#BlackLivesMatter changed to #AllLivesMatter. For me, its predecessor wasn’t D’Angelo’s previous work, but having spent the day prior to its release taking part in the Millions March along Market Street. Like many, I downloaded it instantly and played it on repeat until 2:30am. Then I woke up and played it again.
This arrived as a tip from my wife, who favors synthesized dance music from the decade of Say Anything. This album is pure perfection in that regard, but it’s far from your everyday saccharine retro placebo. With a rotating cast of guest singers, from MNDR to Tegan & Sara, Strangers toys with modern life’s disconnect (“Tourist”) and the superficial vagaries of fame (“Hollywood”). Of course, there’s a good old-fashioned ode to driving to the beach, too. The timelessness to these songs lies in their catchy hooks, and they’re not likely to grow tired for me anytime soon.
Probably one of the year’s biggest surprise moments was the release of T-Pain’s Tiny Desk Concert, where he sang classics like “Buy You a Drank” without the effect of Autotune. This makes sense for T-Pain—after all, he expressed sorrow for his reputation’s wreckage, and was called out personally by Jay-Z in “Death of Autotune”—but most people still don’t understand the software, or how it’s used, sparingly, in nearly every recording now. I’m a fan of the way Future uses it, which was a precursor to Yung Thug and Rich Homie Quan’s use of it, which is to say it makes their cracking voices sound like they’re being struck by lightning. Future has hooks for days, and his music is filled with hope and ambition. When I saw him in July, every song was a singalong.
There’s really nothing wrong with being derivative if you do it with enough heart, and though I didn’t know what to make of Joyce Manor at first, seeing them at Amoeba in August turned me into a fan. Melodic kitschy mid-tempo pop-punk, yadda yadda yadda, but when you’re surrounded by 300 people all singing along more loudly than the band, it’s a little bit infectious. (As a plus, singer Barry Johnson has fantastic taste in YouTube videos.) These songs are very short, to the point, and stay in your head for days.
Nicki Minaj put out a string of terrible singles in 2014, and the way to really appreciate this album is to simply delete them. So much of Nicki in 2014 seemed to be a reaction to critics of Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded, the best album she’s made, who claimed it was “too pop.” So thanks to Peter Rosenberg, we got “Only.” Trash that song like the garbage it is, and “Anaconda,” and “Pills & Potions,” and maybe “Bed of Lies,” and what’s left is a personal song cycle that’s full of personality, humor, sorrow and cleverness. She’s one of the best rappers alive when she’s on her game, and call me crazy, but she’s a role model for my five year-old daughter. When I saw her in Oakland in 2012, she addressed the young girls in the crowd: “Being a loser is not cool,” she said. “Giving your goodies to every Tom, Dick & Harry is not cool. Being intelligent and ambitious is where it’s at. Men are attracted to ambitious women. Ain’t I right, guys?” This is not Nicki’s best album as a whole, but there’s a lot of bravery on it.
A remarkable album that owes as much to early folk like the Incredible String Band and Fairport Convention as it does the cosmic American music of Will Oldham, with whom Olsen toured, Burn Your Fire kept finding its way back to my stereo. Filled with mystery and longing, the record is deceptively simple, a trait that attracted advertising companies. In November, Olsen told KQED that she’d turned down a healthy sum for her music to be used in a commercial, “because it’s a crappy company, and it’s going to damage my career.” May she reap the rewards twofold for blazing her own trail.
In the pantheon of weird records, one of my favorites is Disc’s Transfer, which was created by smashing CDs, gluing them back together, putting them in a CD player, pressing “play” and recording the skipping blips and glitches. That was 15 years ago. In 2014, New York artist James Hoff infected 808 beats with the Blaster virus, recorded the results, and used them as foundations for new compositions. The results are fabulously askew—your cat will hate it. There’s definitely some high art happening here, but it’s also just a riot to listen to. As Hoff himself says in this interview, “I don’t want the work’s reception necessarily hinged on’“getting it.'” I like that idea.
Most know Marc Ribot as The Guy Who Played Guitar on Rain Dogs, and if you’ve ever heard “Singapore” or “Cemetery Polka,” you know he has a knack for playing what sound like wrongish notes, just a tiny bit out of bounds. Eric Dolphy did this, David Rawlings does this, and Albert Ayler did this. It’s Ayler we’re concerned with here, since Ribot wisely recruited Henry Grimes, Ayler’s bassist, to join his group. For this recording, the trio play Ayler’s “The Wizard” and “Bells,” John Coltrane’s “Sun Ship” and “Dearly Beloved,” and standards “Old Man River” and “I’m Confessin’ That I Love You.” There’s an intense fire beneath it all, and listening to Ribot’s solos unfold is like watching a Pollock painting take form. I listened to this when I needed to enter a different mindset.
Because I grew up in the Thriller era, I miss the monoculture. I miss big universal pop moments, like Lionel Richie’s halftime show or the “Like a Prayer” premiere. I also sometimes miss big dumb pop music for the sake of big dumb pop music. That’s why I cringed at the “Shake it Off” video but eventually relented to 1989. Isn’t that what pop music does? Annoys you into submission until you sing along, like a bubble gum commercial jingle? This record doesn’t have the personality of Swift’s earlier albums—it could have been recorded by anybody with a gazillion-dollar budget—but that’s beside the point when you’re reaching for a big pop moment.
Denmark is a cold place, and when you start a band as a teenager there, it’s likely to be a punk band (especially in Copenhagen, with one of the world’s longest-running squats). I saw Iceage during this era, and was entranced by the magnetism of lead singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt, who used the front rows of the audience alternately as a mattress and punching bag. For their third album, Iceage’s malaise is tucked under the surface. A “mature” outing with obvious nods to Nick Cave and even classic country, it’s an eerie listen that always made me feel a little more mortal.
Yes, I agree that DJ Mustard got snubbed by the Grammys, but I also laugh at the notion that he created “a new sound.” Everyone in the Bay knows where that sound came from, and on Remember Me, Sage the Gemini perfects the very vibe that Mustard routinely dumbs down. (I say this as a genuine fan of “Don’t Tell ‘Em,” “Who Do You Love,” “24 Hours” and other Mustard productions.) The most well-known member of Richmond’s multi-talented HBK collective, Sage can be playful on the mic or serious, aggressive or understated. It all works over his keen production skills, and the ubiquitous radio hits “Gas Pedal” and “Red Nose” are bound to be played in clubs for the next 10 years. Someday I’ll write a treatise about how Bay Area rap has to claw its way to recognition; in the meantime, this album serves as a reminder of our fertile soil.
After a collaborative album with David Byrne, St. Vincent is Annie Clark’s most Talking Heads-esque album to date. It consists largely of compact pop songs, presented slightly off-kilter, with strange rhythms and memorable melodies. Being less expansive and more accessible than predecessor Strange Mercy earned this album some enmity from fans, but it’s a thrill to see an artist’s vision so clearly realized. Her tour in 2014 was a whirlwind of strobe lighting, choreography and, of course, shredding guitar solos.
Last I heard, Bläp Dëli’s Emmett Ross-Cole lived on a family heirloom farm in the middle of a vineyard in Sonoma County, which just goes to show that great electronic music can be created anywhere. This album is full of lush, layered soundscapes that create a cerebral, soulful mood; it could fit in easily alongside Los Angeles’ Brainfeeder catalog, or at a Ninja Tune showcase. For me, it works as a late-night soundtrack, full of synthesizers and broken beats. Keep your eye on this guy.
I listened to this album exactly once, while driving down Highway 101 in Southern California at night, and I’m never going to listen to it again. That’s because the experience of listening to it once was perfect, like reading a collection of short stories in a cabin somewhere. Why would I taint it with a repeat? These are sad songs of tragedy, death, exploding aerosol cans, teenage sex, hospital beds, cars and alcohol, sung in stark, straightforward fashion by a low, mumbling voice. Because it’s so singular, and so honest, it would be very easy to mock, but the stories are just so incredibly alive and real.
Source:: Forum Books
- -]]>Icons are sought after and are coming to be needed more and more. Perhaps it is easier to understand an image than it is to know the world, let alone how to change it.
-Uploading an icon to a profile picture or posting a response or article bleeds into thousands who are doing the same and suddenly an entire social media feed is parroting the same visual calls. Today, protest icons are disseminated rapidly and with such reach that, while the news is mired in arguing over factual evidence of whether or not Mike Brown’s hands were actually raised or not, the image has already hit the streets. There thousands of protesters begin to raise their hands and take photos with their hoodies pulled tight or make videos of themselves dumping buckets of ice over their heads.
-Images lead to creative actions. For once, the value of these images is separate from the art or entertainment markets, propositioning us to rethink the worlds and systems occupied by them. Some of the most potent protest icons of 2014 appeared in just the last four months of the year.
- -Thousands are still protesting across the country in the aftermath of the non-indictments of the police officers involved in the deaths of Mike Brown and Eric Garner (along with many others). Images of hands raised above one’s head in a “hands up, don’t shoot” position have flooded the media from footage of protesters across the nation to members of Congress on the House floor. On December 1, five St. Louis Rams’ players held their hands up during pregame introductions in a peaceful and poignant use of their public platform to millions of viewers. Their stadium is located only 11 miles from the battlegrounds of Ferguson.
-Hands up, don’t shoot is bigger than Mike Brown’s case, and is reminiscent of Tommie Smith and John Carlos, who bravely raised black-gloved fists during the playing of the “Star Spangled Banner” at their 1968 Olympic medal ceremony. Like Smith and Carlos, whose raised fists aligned with Black Power but also appealed for greater human rights, the “hands up, don’t shoot” icon has come to confront a history of perceived systemic and disproportionate police brutality, while calling for transparency within the criminal justice system and the confrontation of institutional racism. The action is a reminder that all is not yet equal and serves as a desperate proposition that we are all a part of this system, no matter how far you are from Ferguson, or Staten Island, or Sanford, or Fruitvale Station.
- -The Internet is the most critical tool in activism and protest. Its utility comes in its speed, lack of regulation and ubiquity, but the current war to privatize the Internet could pose a threat not just to the pending revolution, but to one’s daily online activity as well.
-On September 10, 2014, dubbed Internet Slow Down Day, you may have noticed that many of your usual sites were loading… and loading… and loading…
-The ‘spinning wheel of death’ is part of an online campaign in support of what is most commonly known as net neutrality, or the call for an open and free Internet. This year, the FCC began considering new regulations that would, among other things, create “Internet fast lanes” where broadband service companies, like Comcast and AT&T would be able to collect fees from content companies, such as Netflix or Amazon, for special priority to their networks.
-In response, 40,000 websites, including Netflix, Tumblr, Vimeo, Kickstarter and Etsy all participated by installing mock loading icons on their home pages — both a poignant protest and an ominous forewarning. Response was so great that the comments section of the FCC was shut down. The Internet still offers great opportunity that does not exist anywhere else — this is part of its value and it’s up to its users to keep it that way. After all, if the privatization of the Internet allows speed to be manipulated by the highest bidder and corporate interest, how can one be sure they’ll even find the revolution?
- -On October 29, 2014, mattresses and pillows became unexpected symbols confronting sexual assault on college campuses. Inspired by the activist/performance art of Columbia University senior Emma Sulkowicz, who has been carrying her dorm mattress with her everywhere she goes, even to class, since September. Sulkowicz claims to have been raped on the first day of her sophomore year by another Columbia student.
-The accused was ultimately found not guilty — Sulkowicz’s appeals were dismissed — and he still attends classes at Columbia. In protest of the way her case was handled and the lack of seriousness afforded to her accusations, Sulkowicz will carry this mattress with her until her accused rapist leaves the school; she was one of three students to accuse him of assault.
-Carry That Weight, was a day of collective support and action confronting the unforgivable amount of assault that occurs on American college campuses—one in five students report some experience of assault or attempted assault, compared to the many presumed not to report anything.
-Mattresses and pillows are often the private specters of sexual assault survivors confront daily, but have now become a public icon for the inequity and inability for post-secondary institutions to protect and provide safe environments for all students to learn. Pointing to the seriousness of safety for students, President Obama recently launched It’s On Us, a national campaign to raise awareness and end sexual assault on college campuses.
-It is on us to acknowledge the gravity of a system that protects or dismisses sexual predators and a public that takes more interest in a young woman’s mattress than in her accusations of rape. Sulkowicz is one of twenty-eight students filing a Title IX federal claim against Columbia University.
- -Expecting a system or government to care for its’ citizens shouldn’t be so hard to imagine. But in Hong Kong, over a hundred thousand protesters filled the streets in response to China reneging on the promise to grant it open elections by 2017. After it was announced that the candidates for election would be vetted by China first, students took to the streets. For two months since September, pro-democracy activists occupied the streets of Hong Kong.
-Hong Kong police responded with liberal use of pepper spray and activists found that umbrellas, sometimes turned inside out, were an effective way to shield their bodies from the attacks. The umbrellas came to have a creative utility — they protected activists from the sweltering midday sun, along with shielding them from pepper spray and tear gas. They were sometimes painted bright colors, donned with activist slogans or were joined with other umbrellas to form symbols when seen from above.
-The images are reminiscent of the 1989 student protests in Tiananmen Square with many connections drawn to the iconic image, ‘Tank Man,’ who appears to bravely step in front of a column of tanks, a lone hero performing an isolated act of courage. Yet, he was one hero amongst thousands who happened to be cropped out of the famous photo. In Hong Kong the protesters used their umbrellas to shield their own bodies, but most effectively brought umbrellas together to form a giant collective shield over the mass of protesters.
-Images of the umbrella in Hong Kong fundamentally capture the collective agency needed in movements of change and serve as a reminder that — in numbers — even a flimsy umbrella can become an impenetrable force.
-And when these protests fade, their visual legacies will be remade and exchanged again as reminders that while movements may end the fight for human rights battles on. -
-]]>Songs that were performed include Snoop Dogg’s “Gin And Juice,” Digable Planets’ “Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat),” and many others. Read a statement from the curator of the event, Marc Bamuthi Joseph, here. (Also, we asked Joseph to pick his Top 5 hip-hop songs from 1993, which you can read here.)
-Enjoyed that? Watch this performance, by Ensemble Mik Nawooj, of the Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.” from that same night.
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If you’re interested in visiting the city’s illuminated installations, the SF Travel Association has compiled a map and a list of tours and other events. (KQED critic Christian Frock rates the 16 works listed on the map as ranging “from meh to spectacular” — read her commentary. ) A free light art bike tour this Saturday will give cyclists a chance to shine. Meanwhile, enjoy Peter Ruocco’s video exploration of these dazzling works. -
-]]>The transportation isn’t entirely complete, especially when unavoidable elements of the library’s physical space interrupt the installation of vitrines, wall text and objects. But reading first-hand accounts by Miller’s colleagues of his various contributions to both the Exploratorium and scientific discovery, I wished I’d wandered the museum with him at any point in his twenty year tenure. Documentation and ephemera will never be as entertaining as the man himself, but Light Walk: Bob Miller and the Exploratorium presents one man’s creativity, playfulness and lasting impact on an institution, leaving the viewer itching for the simple tools of his trade: sunlight, paper and an irrepressible curiosity.
-Light Walk is installed on the library’s fourth floor, rubbing elbows with the art, music and recreation collections. Four large cases present short anecdotes about Miller and related materials from the Exploratorium archives: photographs, magazine clippings, patent documents and museum publications. The bits and pieces coalesce into a picture of Miller — much like his Light Walk, an exploration of sunlight, shadow, refraction and perception builds on basic demonstrations to build a larger understanding of the natural world.
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Before he met Exploratorium director Frank Oppenheimer in 1970, Miller lived a number of lives. Roaming from the White Sands Proving Ground to India and the South Pacific, he worked in the Army, for IBM, as a postal carrier and merchant marine. After this Renaissance man lifestyle, he helped shape the Exploratorium for nearly two decades, in its exhibits and its ethos.
- -Peter Richards, another longtime Exploratorium colleague whose name might be familiar as co-creator of The Wave Organ, details the development of one of Miller’s signature exhibits. Richards depicts a fledgling institution where getting an NEA grant for the construction of Sun Painting’s mechanically-mounted mirror is as simple as a letter from Oppenheimer to the federal agency. A prevailing attitude of “we think this might work, let’s find out what happens” makes these early days at the museum seem thrilling.
-Through simple materials and methods, Miller teased science lessons from everyday phenomena. A display of provisional tools used in Light Walk demonstrates the dictum of “it’s not the stuff that’s important, but rather the phenomena that the stuff helps illuminate.”
- -Some of Miller’s exhibitions were based on actual scientific and engineering discoveries. With Sally Duensing, he published “The Cheshire Cat Effect” in the journal Perception, findings related to the strange things that happen when our eyes see two different and competing things. Based on Duesing’s retelling (and the photographs accompanying her text) it appears Miller really was fulfilling Oppenheimer’s invitation to “come and play” at the Exploratorium.
-Nowhere is his playful nature more evident than in the short silent video, Bob Miller: A Little Insight, by David Barker. Against the aural backdrop of the fourth floor elevator bank (“ding! ding!”), reference desk questions, and the busy typing of library patrons, Barker captures Miller fooling around at his home in Cedar Lake, the subject sporting a Willie Nelson-style bandana around his white head. Miller conducts magic tricks with his reflection and demonstrates some of his signature Light Walk moves. The camera ranges over prisms, mirrors and refracted light.
-The library’s version of Light Walk is a selection of good stories punctuated by three of Miller’s creations — a prototype of the Sun Painting mirror that looks positively ancient, a meticulously crafted rack of mirrored slats, and a pinhole portrait of Miller himself (US patent #6000803). The whole exhibition is encircled by small wall plaques relaying bits of Miller’s Light Walk lessons in text. The conversational tone and broken structure of the plaques make true comprehension nearly impossible, but necessitate a visit to the present-day Exploratorium for a modern-day Light Walk, an “institution” the museum still provides, which was perhaps the goal of this installation all along.
-Light Walk: Bob Miller and the Exploratorium is on view in the Art, Music & Recreation Center of the San Francisco Public Library, Main Branch, through February 5, 2015. For more information visit exploratorium.edu. -
-]]>The performance space and dance school ...read more]]>
The performance space and dance school …read more -
Source:: Arts News
- -]]>It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
-]]>It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
-]]>It was no easy task summoning memorable moments from the year’s morass, yet here in chronological order are the sequences that, for me, best captured the vitality and intelligent power that movies are capable of expressing.
- -Polish-born, English-based writer-director Pawel Pawlikowski returned to his birthplace to make a stark black-and-white moral tale that was not only set in the early 1960s, but designed to look and feel like a movie from that period. Pawlikowski cast a non-professional as a blank-faced, convent-raised young woman on the verge of taking her vows who is first sent to meet the aunt she didn’t know she had. The women consequently embark on a road trip to a nightmare past and potentially freeing future. Among countless haunting sequences in this profound, stripped-down movie, I see the aunt — brilliantly depicted by Agata Kulesz as a ruthlessly idealistic and savagely disappointed Communist long mired in 100 proof cynicism — lighting a cigarette in a bare-bones restaurant and scoping out a nearby male with all the warmth and empathy of a Siberian wolf.
- -Leading roles for women were in short supply (so what’s new?), especially for actresses of a certain age. Hanif Kureishi’s screenplay about a long-married and palpably frustrated British couple channeling happier days and looking for lost magic in Paris paired the astonishing Lindsay Duncan with national treasure Jim Broadbent. Duncan is a delicious revelation, by turns scathing and rambunctious, flirty and brutally direct. Her playing of a restaurant scene with Broadbent, especially after the shockingly large check arrives, was one of the year’s high points.
- -Another older couple, the newly married gay men portrayed by Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, supplies the heart and soulfulness of Ira Sachs’ endearing yet rigorously unsentimental family drama. You may relish conflict in movies; I savor unexpected moments of connection and tenderness. Love is Strange gives us a precious handful, notably a late-night conversation in which Lithgow’s usually oblivious character offers encouragement — and conveys some understanding — to the justifiably resentful teenager compelled by circumstances to share his personal space (i.e., his bunk bed) with an much older gay relative.
- -My first three choices suggest that I identify more with older characters each passing year. In my defense, how could you connect with the bland, blank slate that Richard Linklater chose as the focus of his lengthy, superficial opus? Consequently, the moments I most vividly recall involve Ethan Hawke. Linklater’s decision to use the same actors over a decade-plus of filming produce some unique results — hence Boyhood’s inclusion on this list — but the film has surprisingly little to say about the way this child’s passions and values were influenced by his family and society. For a coming-of-age story with exceptional character insight that also punches you in the gut, revisit Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
- -The gripping opening scene of John Michael McDonagh’s existential Irish mortality play comprises a single, static shot of a priest’s face in the confession booth as he listens to an unidentified parishioner promise to kill him the following Sunday. Brendan Gleeson’s hulking yet ambivalent portrayal — in complete partnership with McDonagh’s literate, grown-up script — carries the scene and the movie into dark, rich places.
- -Revived by San Francisco Cinematheque at the Castro in November, Andy Warhol’s 1966 double projection, three-and-a half-hour quasi-fictional portrait of denizens of New York’s Chelsea Hotel was one of the weirder pleasures of the year. The parade of fanatically long takes was quintessentially Warholian in that the interminable moments were as central to Warhol’s conception as the compelling ones. I shall long remember Nico standing in a kitchen endlessly trimming her bangs in a hand mirror (file under Innocence), beloved cult figure and in-person guest Mary Woronov skulking and glowering onscreen (No-method Acting) and Pope Ondine shooting speed and going off on some poor woman (Mania).
- -Alex Ross Perry’s frenetic tale of a self-obsessed young novelist features a relentless performance by Jason Schwartzman as the most insufferable subspecies of educated urban schmuck — the kind who thinks that being self-aware and owning it somehow redeems his schmuckiness. Perry, wisely recognizing that audiences need a break from this egomaniac, dispatches Philip for a good, long while to follow his erstwhile girlfriend.
-Elisabeth Moss (Mad Men) delivers the best pure, concentrated acting to grace a screen this year, most memorably in a sequence where she wordlessly glides through a sequence of four or five emotions in response to a piece of news.
- -A North Dakota pastor risks alienating his congregation by providing shelter and assistance to the horde of homeless men who’ve come from all over seeking oil-related jobs in this riveting profile by Bay Area documentary filmmaker Jesse Moss. In a strong year for documentaries (so what’s new?), The Overnighters exposed the post-Depression dislocation and desperation that is pervasive yet somehow invisible (at least on television). I have questions about the doc’s structure and ethics, but there’s no denying the unsettling effectiveness of an awkward dinner-table scene with the minister’s family.
- -I am ticked off, to tell you the truth, that Ava DuVernay’s impeccably mounted and frequently moving reenactment of a pivotal chain of events in the Civil Rights Movement wasn’t booked into theaters a month before Election Day. It’s all about money, of course: Opening on Christmas Day when children are out of school (and will be for the next week or two) will likely result in better box office than an October run. OK, but if the film’s goals include making a difference — well, you get my point. I suppose I’ll embrace the silver lining, namely that Annie won’t be the only screen representation of black people that white people will see this holiday season.
- -A lovingly rendered period piece that’s all nuance, shadow and light, Mike Leigh’s portrait of British painter J.M.W. Turner consists almost entirely of small moments. There are no heart-wrenching revelations or confessions, no knockdown, drag-out fights. So how to choose a defining image from Leigh’s compositions or Timothy Spall’s fully inhabited performance? I can’t, except to cite any of the many instances of the rotund, top-heavy Turner walking — navigating whatever terrain with supreme self-confidence, accepting the labor required without hesitation, oblivious to other people and seeing what only he can see. We feel we have the experience of being privy to a man living his life, not an actor playing a role or following a script. That may or may not be a kind of magic or miracle, but it is transcendent. -
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