A Brie Grows in Brooklyn

I just spent a while putting books on the bookshelves Caleb...

Thu, 24 May 2012 17:20:00 -0400

I just spent a while putting books on the bookshelves Caleb built for me last night, and now I feel calmer than I have in years.

While I was alphabetizing them, an insert from The Caine Mutiny by Herman Wouk floated out. It read:

If the riches of

the Indies

or the crowns of

all the kingdoms of Europe

were laid at my feet

in exchange

for my love of reading,

I would spurn them all.

—Francois Fenelon

I think that most of you who read this blog have the same sentiments. I certainly do. Books are the great love of my life.

A few friends emailed me asking for book suggestions this week, which is coincidental. They are going on vacation. One is coming down from Middlemarch, and wants something just as delightful. The other is going to some paradise in Florida (I hate you), and doesn’t want to read scripts.

Given those parameters, here are my suggestions for the two of you:

1. Tana French’s mystery novels, starting with In The Woods.

2. Laurence Durrell’s Alexandria series, starting with Justine, because they weave poetry out of Egypt. I read them in Borneo, with a group of famous scientists studying orangutans. “Huh, so you’re not dumb?” one of them said to me, puzzled, when he saw me reading it.

3. JFK: Reckless Youth by Nigel Hamiliton. One word: salacious.

4. The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazard, because it’s beautifully written.

5. Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell, because his words fly, and it’s post-apocalyptic science fiction.

6. The Leopard by Giuseppi Tomasi di Lampedusa, just because.

7. All the King’s Men by Robert Penn Warren, which I read on the beach of Hualtulco, feeling bowled over by unrequited love.

8. Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow, because it’s easy, and fun. I read it on the Jersey Shore.

9. Do The Window’s Open by Julie Hecht, because she is fucking neurotic and hilarious.

10.Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh, because it’s a book about English aristocracy written by one of the most sneering, judgmental, romantic, and brilliant voices in 20th century literature.

My hands smell like old paper now, and I fucking love it.

Cannes 2012: Diane Kruger

Thu, 24 May 2012 14:33:00 -0400

I’m not sure how they always manage to do it, but right when I’m doing completely fine,...

Photographer of the Week: Angela Bacon Kidwell I was talking to...

Thu, 24 May 2012 08:01:00 -0400

Photographer of the Week: Angela Bacon Kidwell

I was talking to Shark last night, who discovered Lenscratch, a photography blog that features a range of artists, many of them not working, living, or showing in New York. In other words, a more diffuse offering.

He mentioned that one of them was from Wichita Falls, Texas, where he was born, and the movie “Paris, Texas,” was filmed. Her name is Angela Bacon Kidwell, and her photographs, I think, are a nice way to begin the Thursday slide into Memorial Day Weekend.

Unpacking is the absolute worst.

Wed, 23 May 2012 12:31:00 -0400

Unpacking is the absolute worst.

I’ve been meaning to write about “We Buy...

Wed, 23 May 2012 08:44:00 -0400

I’ve been meaning to write about “We Buy Gold,” an installation by Stephanie Dodes and Marshall Korshak at Allegra LaViola, for weeks, but haven’t had the time. And now it’s closing on Friday.

Caleb and I went to the gallery for a dinner one night, and spent a while lounging around the piece. Basically, it’s composed of multitudinous swaths of fake fur, which cover the floor and walls. You have to take your shoes off before you walk around on it, but once you do, you kind of feel like Barbarella in her naughty pad, only more ethically conscious.

There are three rooms showing videos, all of which are pretty trippy. Like, if I were a drug user, I would probably go back there and do drugs. But I’m not, and I still enjoyed watching the hip hop dance music video—featuring some badass bitches from Brooklyn—completely sober. I might ride my bike over there, and do it again this afternoon.

For more information about the exhibition, visit here.

Today was going to be my morning to sleep in, but then I woke up...

Wed, 23 May 2012 08:22:00 -0400

Today was going to be my morning to sleep in, but then I woke up and started updating Franke’s fucking blog…or rather she did. Um, the farce is up.

And then I got to thinking about all of the things I’ve been wanting to write about, one of them being Game of Thrones, and decided that this morning, my thoughts don’t feel like they’re hitting a concrete wall, as they have been for the past few days. So I might as well get some of them out now.

On a side note, before I begin, I’m always embarrassed to post stills from the show, because they are so ugly aesthetically. Kind of like posting official photos from the Royal Wedding.

Now, at first, I was kind of bored by Game of Thrones Season 2. There was a lot of groundwork to do in the narrative, and it was fucking boring. But then, the past four episodes, I think that it’s really picked up. Game of Thrones, the HBO version, is here to stay, and I think that fans can be hopeful that if George RR Martin dies of obesity (is that mean?) before he finishes the books, then David Benioff and D.B. Weiss could do a pretty good job wrapping up the mess he created in Book Five. Or at least a better job than that guy who ghost wrote the last few Robert Jordans.

So, if you’re a true fan of the books, then you know that the show has taken quite a few licenses with the narrative. Robb Stark is dating an Arabian Nights kind of hussy with a great ass rather than a diminutive little lake lady? Nice. Tywin Lannister and Arya Stark find common ground at Harrenhal? I like it. Jamie gets set free by Catlyn way before he should have? I didn’t like it, but I’ll accept it if someone cleans him off and puts him in a hot bitch’s bed.

The narrative changes probably make people angry—I’ve been so busy keeping track of Diane Kruger’s ballgowns at Cannes that I haven’t read a single episode recap from this week, or any weeks—but I’m enjoying them, because it makes watching the show exciting. It’s kind of like when you’re a super nerd, and you read a big fantasy series, and then you spend your Friday nights in those storyboard chat rooms, writing alternate endings. Like pretending that you’re Daenerys Targaryen, and shit, and having really dirty sex with Jorah Mormont, who is also a real person pretending, so it’s kind of like you’re having Internet chat room sex, only its better, because you’re a queen.

Or, for me, it’s kind of like when I have fantasy novel themed dreams, where I’m one of the characters in a book doing shit doesn’t happen in the books, and then I wake up, and want to know what happens, but can’t, because I can never return to the dreamland, not unless I get a key or whatever from the Warlock down the street who looks like a homeless man but is actually the most magical man in Brooklyn.

Anyway, I think you get my point, but probably not. In any case, if you’re not watching Game of Thrones, you should invest the time in it, because it’s good, even if you don’t like fantasy, and even if you haven’t read the books.

Just Kids: A Review

Tue, 22 May 2012 09:00:00 -0400

I just finished reading Patti Smith’s Just Kids. Like literally five seconds ago. If I...

The second time I saw the exhibition of Andre Masson’s...

Mon, 21 May 2012 15:35:00 -0400

The second time I saw the exhibition of Andre Masson’s work at Blain Di Donna, I got up really close to the paintings, and stared at the brushstrokes. I almost never do that, but I should more often, because in examining them, Masson revealed a part of himself to me.

Read my piece about it for Art in America here. And go see the exhibition.

Submarine: A Review, But More, The Wall That I Keep On Hitting

Mon, 21 May 2012 13:57:00 -0400

Yesterday, I spent the day on my front stoop with a few friends, trying to sell off some of...

This article in the New York Times about labeling children as...

Mon, 21 May 2012 10:41:00 -0400

This article in the New York Times about labeling children as psychopaths made me really sad. It’s a terrible thing to be labelled as a young child, especially given that psychopaths are generally considered to be untreatable.

But reading the article was eerily familiar in ways that I won’t share. All that I will say is that medication administered at a young age does seem to treat—and morph—a troubled child’s brain.

In any case, you should read it, if you haven’t read it already.

The light tonight feels like some kind of treasure you want to...

Sun, 20 May 2012 19:59:00 -0400

The light tonight feels like some kind of treasure you want to chase after.

What Do The Aliens Think?

Sat, 19 May 2012 21:36:00 -0400

Just as we finished the first mile of the Brooklyn Half Marathon today, my Aunt Peggy turned to me,...

What you are seeing here is two harmless looking things that, if...

Fri, 18 May 2012 22:34:00 -0400

What you are seeing here is two harmless looking things that, if you encountered them on the street, could easily kill you.

The city’s reward to me for getting through a New York...

Fri, 18 May 2012 16:33:00 -0400

The city’s reward to me for getting through a New York week.

Girls.

Thu, 17 May 2012 23:43:00 -0400

Girls.

So this is what I’m doing tonight.

Thu, 17 May 2012 21:18:00 -0400

So this is what I’m doing tonight.

My friend Andrea and I bonded the other day over our mutual...

Thu, 17 May 2012 13:09:00 -0400

My friend Andrea and I bonded the other day over our mutual attachments to furniture snobs who think that we have bad taste.

Andrea is married to Aidan, who is the ultimate mid-century modern collector. They have a gorgeous son together, and a dog, and they live in Los Angeles.

I am dating Caleb, who told me that the six Eames chairs that he has scattered around the apartment—which no one ever sits in—are comforting to him, so he needs to keep them, at the expense of basically all of my things.

Neither one of them are gay, I swear.

If they lived together, however, they’d have a gorgeous apartment. Although I’m not sure how much more gorgeous Andrea and Aidan’s could be than it is right now.

Today is a busy fucking day. Now, I’ve gone from being overwhelmed busy to angry busy. To add insult to injury, I have to run a half marathon on Saturday, for which I have not trained. At all.

So, rather than writing something idiotic, I’m going to just link to the posts of Andrea’s apartment here and here, on her sister Martine’s blog, so that you can salivate over it for a few minutes this afternoon. And salivate over Martine as well, because she’s really pretty.

As a side note, the hyperlinking on my blog is fucked up, but trust me, if you click on “here” when I say you should, it will lead you to somewhere.

I know I’m like weeks behind, but I just read the article...

Wed, 16 May 2012 20:25:00 -0400

I know I’m like weeks behind, but I just read the article in the New Yorker on Sri Padmanabhaswamy Temple in Kerala, where $20 billion worth of treasure was just discovered. And that’s in the single vault that has been opened. There’s another one of equal size that has yet to be uncovered.

It’s all pretty crazy, Indiana Jones type shit. Jake Halpern, the reporter on the piece, wrote a great story. But more than anything, I think he did a good job highlighting why I think that religion in India, almost more than anywhere else is the world, is used as a method of control to keep people uneducated, poor, and faithful to a feudal way of living. That probably wasn’t his intention. But that’s what I felt traveling through the country, and I thought it was interesting that my observations came through in the piece.

“A street-food vendor named Suresh spoke with me at his home, a humble concrete dwelling that he had decorated with a small statue of Buddha and pictures of his heroes: Jesus, Mother Teresa, Vishnu, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. He said that he did not trust the government to handle the temple’s wealth. I asked him if he had more faith in the royal family. ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘They were not like the government officials, who are corrupt. They were foresighted and saved this wealth for the generations to come, like parents who are saving for their children.’”

Of course, one member of the royal family in Tivandrum—where the temple is located—lives in a 106-room palace, and another collects rare vintage automobiles. All evidence points to the fact that they’ve been stealing from the vaults for years. But why dispute those appointed by gods to rule over humble people?

I’m still thinking a lot about who loves India, and who doesn’t, and why it made me so angry. I haven’t figured it out. But I will say that I was at a dinner the other night, and I sat next to a man—unfortunately for him, a stereotypical 2005 sort of investment banker—who thought that I was insane for not loving it. He said that he would go back every year. But then again, he also said that it was ok for him to embrace his female employees without their permission, and that girls who want equal rights can’t reasonably expect that men hold open doors for them. He also loved essentializing poverty.

The article is a good one, and you can read it here. I stole the picture above, taken by Chiara Goia, from an accompanying slideshow on the New Yorker website.

If you’re like me, you’ve already seen this video...

Wed, 16 May 2012 11:16:00 -0400

If you’re like me, you’ve already seen this video like 800 times, but I thought that I’d post it anyway. I’m using it as a treat to get me over my mid-week hump. I write a long email, I watch the video. I return a phone call, I watch the video. I read a press release, I kill myself.

Completely ridiculous eye candy. I love it.

I wrote about a young artist, Ned Vena, a few weeks ago for Art...

Wed, 16 May 2012 10:23:00 -0400

I wrote about a young artist, Ned Vena, a few weeks ago for Art In America, and have been thinking a lot about his paintings ever since. He’s really talented. The works in his current exhibition at Clifton Benevento almost feel Rothko-esque in their ability to provoke swooning.

The show is open until June 16, so go see it if you can. Word on the street is that Ned is about to get some major buzz, so you can say you saw it before anyone else.