Monday, January 10, 2011

Gob Squad's Kitchen (You've Never Had It So Good)

Gob Squad's Kitchen is showing as part of the Public Theater's Under The Radar Festival right now in the Village. I attended the performance Saturday night knowing very little about the festival or the troupe, but left fully convinced of Under The Radar's spirit and intention.

The ultimate goal of UTR is to 'offer a crash course in theater that is exciting, independent, and experimental.' The Gob Squad, one of 20 or so invited artist groups, is a traveling troupe of British and German artists working collectively with video, installation, and theater to explore the 'complexities and absurdities' of various pop culture phenomenons-- in this case, Andy Warhol's film 'Kitchen'.

The play has been called a 'live film', as the audience views the play on a screen placed in front of the actual set. We entered the space through the infamous 'factory', before taking our seats facing a screen that-- after a round of technical difficulties that I swore were part of the act (they weren't)-- projected the action in a grainy yet illuminate black and white picture. Smart indeed.

The tone isn't unlike Jemaine and Bret's Flight of the Concords-- a performance that doesn't take itself at all seriously about people who take themselves extremely seriously. The result is an endearing yet extremely silly observation of real people, acting themselves, in an otherwise banal setting. That silliness is the saving grace of the depiction of Warhol's world of foggy, confused pretension. No one REALLY wants to watch those old films without some sort of mind altering aid, come on. But we do want to know about it. So what the Gob Squad handed us instead was a recreation. And it worked.

Edie Sedgwick was there, among others, in black tights, a pixie cut, and aloof giggles. Yet instead of playing Edie by the book, the Gob Squad shifted her into 'Sharon', who gives us a solid footing that Sedgwick would never yield to. I laughed aloud for much of the 90 minutes, delighted by the little inside jokes about Warhol and the 60s and the feminist movement and basic human tendency. There was an element of audience participation, and a three minute kiss, and many references to 'others watching it in 100 years', which seems to be as far into the future as people dared to consider mid-century. Those tiny observations, spewed from the mouths of very sweet British and German actors, gave structure and meaning to an otherwise random piece of theater.

Gob Squad's Kitchen is silly, lasting, and smart. I can only imagine what the other 19 Under the Radar are handing out for free (well, like $15, which is amazing). The festival lasts through the 16th, and tickets can be found here. GO.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

At the Restaurant

Jonathan and Laura brought up this Stephen Dunn poem on New Year's Eve while discussing our favorite writers. Dunn's work, albeit remarkably approachable, remains a rare truth in contemporary prose. He never gets pretentious-- I love that about him.

Laura called him an 'old mountain man who writes about his feelings'. I like that too. This poem in particular touches on The Human Condition in its most glorious form. It's about dreading small talk at dinner parties and aching for sincerity in a world so neglectful of such things. That last line kills me--

"Inexcusable, the slaughter of this world.
Insufficient, the merely decent man."

Enjoy.

(My New Years Eve, by the way, was in no means a reflection of the poem below. Incidentally, it was one of the most enjoyable New Years I've ever had, partially because we skipped over formalities and went straight to discussing poetry.)



At the Restaurant
by Stephen Dunn

“Life would be unbearableif we made ourselves conscious of it.”– Fernando Pessoa


Six people are too many people
and a public place the wrong place
for what you’re thinking–

stop this now.

Who do you think you are?
The duck à l’orange is spectacular,
the flan the best in town.

But there among your friends
is the unspoken, as ever,
chatter and gaiety its familiar song.

And there’s your chronic emptiness
spiraling upward in search of words
you’ll dare not say

without irony.
You should have stayed at home.
It’s part of the social contract

to seem to be where your body is,
and you’ve been elsewhere like this,
for Christ’s sake, countless times;

behave, feign.

Certainly you believe a part of decency
is to overlook, to let pass?
Praise the Caesar salad. Praise Susan’s

black dress, Paul’s promotion and raise.
Inexcusable, the slaughter of this world.
Insufficient, the merely decent man.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

A Lens

Above are a few photos taken with my new 35mm lens over the holiday. Can you believe those bright orangey reds!? The lens is extremely kind to clueless photogs like me and even kinder to skin tones.

That's my cousin Lucy up there, and her husband Mike. Then there is the Minden Courthouse, near where my Dad grew up, and our lab Belle, who gets sweeter every time I see her. The last photo is a gift from my sister-- a book of letters that Julia Child and Avis DeVoto wrote back and forth from Paris to New England in the 50s. They talk about cooking and knives and Nixon and McCarthy, and it really is quite wonderful.

I love this time of year and look forward to toasting in 2011 with a four day weekend that I just realized I have. Seriously, it didn't occur to me until 3pm that I don't have to be back at work until Tuesday.
Happy New Year, all!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

La Lune

Did you all see the Lunar eclipse last week!? I did not. Typical. But this guy did, and in an enviable fashion-- with a bottle of wine and a fire pit.

Also:

Alison and I cannot. stop. laughing. over this site.

If you read Freedom, watch this. Some good Franzen/DFW scoop in there.

Fantastic piece by George Saunders from the New Yorker online.

Guess where the 'greenest restaurant in America' is located!?

True story.

Happy almost Christmas, dearies! Kiss New York for me, I'll be in the homeland drinking tea and taking bubble baths. IT'S COLD THERE.

Friday, December 17, 2010

The Tree Story

And now, to counter my obnoxiously upbeat take on this holiday season, please read this: Lauren Hoffman's newest essay on The Nervous Breakdown

And a bit of our corresponding chatter:

5:25 PM Lauren: Christmas stories have morals – things like “Giving is important” or “Family matters” or “Maybe snoop through your husband’s closet a little to find out what he got you before you up and cut off all your hair” or “If you don’t want the inside of your hotel to be covered with placenta and overrun with shepherds, go ahead and tell that nice pregnant lady that you’re all booked up.”
6:10 PM me: bahaaaaaaaa
did you write that??
please say yes
6:11 PM Lauren: yeah
I changed "covered with placenta" to "covered IN placenta"
6:17 PM me: that makes all the difference
Lauren: are you being sarcastic?
because OMG IT DOES
6:18 PM me: my arms hurt
Lauren: yoga?
my thumbs hurt from christmas button crafts
6:22 PM me: i wasn't being sarcastic! i love little word changes
i do i do! (yes, yoga.)
6:23 PM Lauren: hahaha
I'm trying not to overwrite
but I really hate christmas


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

You can get this for me for Christmas

It will take up my entire kitchen/living room but totally worth it.

(By Markus Krauss)

Ai Weiwei: Sunflower Seeds at the Tate Modern

Have you all heard about Ai Weiwei's current installation at Tate Modern? Amazing. He filled the museum's turbine hall (I love that hall, it puts MoMA's atrium to shame) with millions of life-sized sunflower seed husks made out of porcelain. Each of the hand-crafted seeds were individually formed and painted. I will repeat that-- EACH OF THE SEEDS WERE INDIVIDUALLY FORMED AND PAINTED.

It's a commentary on the 'Made in China' phenomenon and the shrinking world and it's brilliant. More on Weiwei here.