I am beyond excited to be hosting this spring…
A film series hosted by Bonnie & Maude and xoJane at 92Y Tribeca
Featuring:
Now and Then
Thu, Feb 21, 7:30pm
Info and tickets
Mermaids
Thu, Mar 14, 7:30pm
Info and tickets
Slums of Beverly Hills
Wed, Apr 24, 7:30pm
With Director Tamara Jenkins in person for post-screening Q&A!
Info and tickets
Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion
Thu, May 30, 7:30pm
Info and tickets
Bring It On
Thu, Jun 20, 7:30pm
Info and tickets
Floyd Bennett Field is a decommissioned air field in South Brooklyn, across Jamaica Bay from the JFK airport.
There are abandoned hangars — you can actually go inside one hangar a see old WWII fighter jets and life-size models of Wright Brothers flying apparati and Coast Guard planes, and more. There is a group of older men who work on restoring these every day from 9am to 3pm.
There are also vast runways and brushy trails to wander, garbage and crab claws to seek out on the beach, and groups of men in the Academy of Modern Aeronautics (AMA) community showing off their loop-de-loops with their intricately-crafted remote control planes and good-natured trash talk.
This is why I was there. But I plan to return.
Because, for one, there were great sounds to be captured.
Photo by Aimee Weiss
What you hear:
- Strong wind
- The buzz of a remote control airplane in the near-distance
- A jet taking off from JFK
- Tall brush and plants rustling in the breeze
- Crickets in the plants
- Aimee taking my picture
- My recorder dying
Brooklyn Zine Fest flyer by Kseniya Yarosh
If you like stories, comics, DIY things and making new friends — then this is for you: It’s the First Annual Brooklyn Zine Fest!
When: Sunday, April 15th, 2012. 11am-6pm
Where: Public Assembly, 70 N. 6th Street, Williamburg, Brooklyn
What: Over 60 writers, artists and publishers selling and trading zines.
What is a zine, you ask? A zine is a handmade, hand-drawn, cut and pasted, photocopied and self-distributed booklet that can be about anything. And can be made by anyone.
Kseniya Yarosh & Matt Carman organized the Brooklyn Zine Fest, and are the creators of a zine called I Love Bad Movies (which you can purchase on Etsy). They stop by an extra-special secret location to chat with me about the zine fest and bad movies, and take my Guess That Bad Movie Clip Quiz to give you all a taste of some of the films tepidly praised and/or joyously reviled in the latest issue of I Love Bad Movies.
Browse Q&As with almost all the exhibiting writers and artists on the Brooklyn Zine Fest site. Other zines mentioned in the podcast that you can find at the Fest:
Deafula
Slice Harvester
The Hookah Girl
Hey, 4-Eyes!
Vinyl Vagabonds
East Village Inky
Meet The Lady
Found Magazine
There will be a full bar, selling Mar-zinis. (Martini + zine = delicious??)
Also: A raffle! With prizes! Including: 2 pairs of glasses from Classic Specs, movie tickets, Earth: The Book signed by the Daily Show staff, books and comics from Forbidden Planet, a 1-year Zine of the Month subscription, a 1-year membership to 3rd Ward, Brooklyn Brewery gift certificates and of course, zines!
(Oh snap, this post contains recipes! Roasted Red Pepper Hummus and “Red” Potato Salad, after the jump.)
Earlier this year, I moved from a pretty swanky Lower East Side apartment that I couldn’t afford, to a studio apartment in Brooklyn that I can mostly afford, as long as I watch what I spend on say, going out to eat. Which is fine, considering that my single greatest source of private, self satisfaction is when I’ve cooked something I’m proud of. (And when someone else likes it to – well, I’m through the roof.) Problem is, grocery shopping and kitchen-stocking can be just as expensive as eating a decent meal in this city, so I’ve learned to be creative with making the most out of cheap items.
To top it off, whereas my old, LES apartment had been outfitted with one of the most beautiful, glistening kitchens I’ve ever used (The fridge would beep at you if you left it open for too long! Temperature control on everything! A stove with a removable pancake griddle! An ever-enviable dishwasher!), the kitchen in my new apartment is…quirky. The temperatures on the oven knob have rubbed off, and if I ever turn it on, it immediately sets off my fire alarm. My sink faucet sprays water everywhere. And I have no counter space.
But it’s forced me to get creative. I turned the broom closet into a pantry. My double sink has wooden boards that have been cut exactly to fit inside their lip, et voila–counter space! The oven….well I just don’t really use it.
I’m not complaining–the opposite, in fact. How will I learn to be a better cook in a kitchen that doesn’t challenge me?
A few weeks ago, I managed to catch the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met, two days before it closed. In total, approximately 660,000 people visited the show during its run, and in the final weeks, some waited as many as six hours to get in. My total wait time of 1 hour and 52 minutes was modest in comparison.
I was struck by the ambiance of the main atrium of the Met, around which the massive line wrapped twice, so I caught some of the noise on tape. It got me thinking about the mental experience of hundreds of people waiting in a line:
By the way — it was totally worth the wait.
Spotted in the Clinton-Washington Subway station in Brooklyn. Strange photo quality due to photographing across the platform, and then zooming in.
No errant comma-usage here!
Using a modern accessory (a mirrored iPhone case) to touch up a vintage ensemble. Credit: Spike McCue
This June, there have been lots of celebrations in New York that had its attendees trotting out some of the greatest, wildest and (in some cases) naked-est costumes all year. Between the Pride Parade and Governors Island’s Jazz Age Lawn Party (both this past weekend), and the Coney Island Mermaid Parade, there have been many opportunities to dress up, show off and mug for the camera.
I wasn’t able to hit the Pride or Mermaid parades this year, but I did get to spend yesterday’s lovely afternoon being transported to the roaring twenties, complete with a swinging band, Charleston dancing and the requisite hooch. One of my favorite parts was the journey to the Governors Island ferry: trying to figure out who was headed to the Island, and who just dressed crazy for no reason. I caught a couple of elderly folks smiling my way.
Once there, I couldn’t keep my eyes off some ladies’ and gents’ meticulously-crafted costumes. There were adorable older couples who caught fire on the dance floor. Everyone there was in great spirits, complimenting strangers’ outfits and toasting to both an age past, and the new generation that appreciates dressing up in period garb, and retreating to the modern luxury of air conditioning at the day’s end.
Check out my buddy Spike’s photos here.
Though I missed the Solstice sunset over the Manhattan Bridge tonight, there were a few strange things I came across on a walk through Brooklyn:
- What’s the deal with the enormous, spherical, neon blue sculpture that sits in the front yard of a house on Dean St. in Boerum Hill? I am inclined to ring the doorbells of this brownstone until someone answers. It looks like it belongs in the MoMA, and lights up the street in an eerie glow. I wonder what the neighbors think. It’s very cool.
- Sometimes people who live on first floor apartments leave their blinds open and their lights on, so you can see right into their apartments. One of the most grotesque, shocking and enigmatic displays I’ve ever witnessed: an intense doll collection. Floor to ceiling, shelves filled with Barbies, American Girl Dolls, Laura Ashley figures, and more, all still in their boxes, and a sheet of plastic “protecting” (?) them from–er–danger? Theft? This brings up so many questions. Who is this person? Are they young or old? Gasp–what if it’s a dude? The mystery continues.
Update: Apparently, the folks over at The Hairpin also had massive doll collections on the mind today.
- This is less creepy-weird and more awesome-weird: today, Nick Franglen, of the band Lemon Jelly, played a 24-hour improvised piece underneath the Manhattan Bridge. He played the theremin, in collaboration with the ambient noise of the cars and trains. He even set up a sensor to insert a blip of silence in the piece whenever a biker or pedestrian passed over it. A collaborative, sun-saluting hymn. Well done.
Walking home today, I happened upon this:
Ah, I was wondering where to store my scythe.
***
ALSO:
I’ve got another radio interview cooking, and I’m serving it up on Monday night at 9pm EST, on WFUV.org! (I promise there won’t be any bad puns in it though.)
Eli “Paperboy” Reed digs soul, R&B and gospel in a way that you probably wouldn’t expect from a dude in his mid-twenties from Brookline, MA. But let me tell you – his knowledge of all this legendary music – from doowop to Motown to Baptist church choirs – made me both envious and enthralled to get a chance to chat with him about it. Plus, he rolls out some acoustic versions of his own tunes. Kid can wail. He dresses snazzy. I promise you’ll dig it too.
Tune in, by going to WFUV.ORG and clicking “Listen Now.” If you miss the live broadcast, the show will be archived right here for streaming on the website.
Every time I look at this photo of myself, I feel like I am looking at someone else that is not me. I have no idea what is going through my mind at the exact moment this photo was taken. I can’t tell if this occurred at the beginning of my sit, when I was stiff and uncomfortable, my heart beating almost painfully at the awareness that I was being watched. Both by strangers observing and by Marina herself. I had expected my mind to be racing but instead it was blank. Maybe this was taken a couple minutes in, when I found the entire situation funny — though not funny in an absurd sense, but enjoyable funny. I giggled, but probably in my mind, because I was too scared to contort my face, too afraid to smile. I felt compelled to hold the same expressionless face that she did, although judging from other photos in the set, people made all sorts of faces. I felt like I couldn’t, for some reason. Her face was straight, but her expression soft. And even though her stare was strong, never letting my eyes drop for a second, I didn’t feel like they were harsh. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Was she trying to figure out who I was? My essence? Or was she just looking, observing?
Maybe this photo was taken toward the end of the session, when my eyes began to hurt from the bright lights and the murmur of the observing folk around us began to fade away. I felt like I was becoming trance-like and considered how when why I would finally know to get up. I almost came out of the trance, and then fell even deeper into it. I can’t remember what I was thinking about other than this. Suddenly, it just felt like the right moment to bow my head, close my eyes, and walk away. I felt like I had been sitting for around fifteen minutes – it turned out to be thirty-two.
I felt it necessary to walk straight out of the museum, nodding goodbye to my new friends from the line, and outside before I could even utter a word. Then I called my friends and told them as I walked to class it felt like I was floating. I had a headache. My eyes hurt. It was so cool. Yes. It just felt good. I think it is something everyone should try. The opportunity to have a connection — profound or totally meaningless — with a complete stranger is a rare and exhilarating thing. Or even just staring into someone’s eyes until one person, or both people, arbitrarily decide to stop — this is something I want to do with people.
I’m also quite sure that Marina has honed her telepathic abilities. I’m not even being sarcastic. She has probably learned to read minds, judge facial cues and look deeply into people’s eyes to learn something about them. This is totally possible.
I have been obsessed with looking through these photographs. Seeing how different everyone’s faces are…it’s fascinating. You know how they say that if you stare at something long enough, patterns will emerge? Well, I’ve found a few interesting ones in here. The prominence of certain facial features, one girl who has come in many different costumes (find the burka and go from there!), the repeats, the smilers, the criers, the celebrities. I find that when I walk around New York, I pay more attention to the detail of people’s faces, and take notice of the juxtaposition of one face with the face of the person next to them.
Marina Abramovic’s piece, The Artist is Present, has been getting a fair amount of buzz. These are some commentaries worth checking out:
The Photographer is Also Present
I would love to hear other peoples’ experiences with this exhibit and piece.
