After my Avatar-induced migraine in 2009, I was ready to sue James Cameron for emotional distress, and to swear off 3-D movies forever. Despite the initial thrill of being face-to-face with the fighting, and troublingly attractive blue creatures, the pain eclipsed my appreciation of the medium. Nearly three years later, I’m willing to admit exceptions exist. When applied to the right subject matter, 3-D elevates movement and our interactions with movies to a an intensely personal level.
Wim Wenders’s Pina is a reason for 3-D skeptics to lift their ban, especially if said skeptics enjoy modern dance. Sure it could have been about 30 minutes shorter, and perhaps had more biographical details, but it’s worth seeing simply as an aesthetic experience. Wenders interviews dancers from different periods of Pina Bausch’s dance company, and combines live versions of Bausch’s most famous dances, with theater performances, filmed rehearsals, and my favorite, site-specific dances performed in various locations throughout Germany. Interspersed between all of this movement, are those dancer interviews. Except instead of the using talking heads, there’s just the head. Suspended directly in front of your face, these heads appear intimidating at first, but it was a bold move to have voice-overs and faces. At times I wished for more exposition, more of the usual suspects of a biopic. Perhaps it’s because Bausch herself preferred to let the choreography speak for itself. The common thread from all of the dancers’ comment was the brevity of her conversations. From rehearsal corrections to more intimate talks, she kept it short and sweet. It’s admirable, but leaves some viewers wanting more.
From the very first frames, it feels as if the dancers are directly in front of you, a private performance in mid-air. The leaps seem a million feet higher. Even the smallest glances and facial gestures seem heightened, and personally directed towards you. You are not simply observing but viscerally feeling dancers under a monorail, in fields, even on moving buses. Most of the site specific scenes were then followed by their staged versions, which provided a useful if repetitive contrast.
Despite the length, and the lack of biographical input, Pina proves that 3-D exists not simply to showcase the technological wizardry of superheroes, but to highlight the equally if not more astounding ability of the human body to challenge, delight, and teach.
The Seward Park Co-Op Board is considering giving leases to 7-11 and Dunkin Donuts in two vacant spaces on Grand Street. Usually I would think these decisions are far beyond my power, but since these spaces are owned by the Co-Op Board, this might be a rare chance when resident opinion matters. There is a Dunkin Donuts two blocks away on Delancey, and a Rite Aid and two Fine Fares that cover the items that 7-11 sells. The Rite Aid is open 24 hours. If the market really dictates which stores move in these spaces, I’d love to show the board that the market (i.e. neighborhood residents and visitors) want something else. Would I love an independent business? Sure. However, I want variety and value in neighborhood businesses even more, and if the majority of the other Grand Street residents want a chain, I’d accept it, if it sold something not currently available within a two block radius. I hate vacant spaces spaces and lost revenue, but I value preserving the diversity of my neighborhood most of all. Would you consider signing the petition below?
http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/protesting-7eleven-and-dunkin-donuts-stores-from/
Last week I had a nice relaxing evening in. A Brooklyn Brewery Summer Ale, pasta, and a nice session on my couch reading about Nazis. I spent hours reading In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson. Which is a non-fiction account of William Dodd’s experience as the American Ambassador to Germany from 1933-1937, just as Hitler was gaining power. Dodd, his wife and two children were in for a surprise. Dodd was the head of the history department at the University of Chicago where his family had been living for decades. His passion was writing a history of the antebellum South, and he thought that an ambassadorship, particularly one to Germany, would be a lark, a low stress job leaving him plenty of time to write. Little did he know that the Germany he fell in love with as an exchange student was slowly but surely vanishing.
It’s a non fiction book that reads like a suspense thriller, especially as Hitler gets ever so subtly worse, and the American reaction to him seems to frustratingly never get beyond mild annoyance. There are many moments in the book when I was moved to yell at it like “really, you don’t seem to think it’s a little weird that effigies are being held on the street, Americans get randomly attacked and perceived communists randomly killed, not to mention the rampant, state-sanctioned anti-Semitism? No, you find it all charmingly strong and masculine? The ambassador’s daughter certainly seemed to think so. American politicians back in Washington were no help, not particularly found of anyone non-Waspy in the first place, and more understandably post-World War I, eager to stay out of international politics.
It’s not a pretty time in world politics, but Larson’s extensive research, and engaging prose make it impossible to put down. I felt like I was starring in my own version of Annie Hall, where Woody Allen feels compelled to watch The Sorrow and the Pity multiple times. Aside from causing a potential case of early-onset conspiracy theories, I highly recommend the book.
New York has certainly stepped up its Mexican game in the last few years, but according to native Texans, the Tex-Mex scene remains sorely lacking. We don’t know from real flour tortillas, don’t put chili on top of enchiladas, never make warm salsa, and don’t properly embrace American cheese. Thankfully, Goat Town’s chef Julie Farias fills this gap with Mexican Mondays at Goat Town on East Fifth Street. The setting is swanky but relaxing-arched ceilings, yellow lights, and latticed mirrors. The booths are made of subway tiles and there is a long wooden bar.
We started with the tortilla chips with three sauces, including an especially addictive tomatillo. The chipotle sauce was thick, warm, and faintly smoky, and the third also delicious, but sadly overshadowed by my desire to shovel the tomatillo in my mouth as if survival itself depended on it. I ordered the enchiladas, stuffed with surprisingly delicious American cheese, and topped with chili on carne, and more cheese. It’s served with rice and beans that have known the warm, smoky touch of bacon. It was spicy, warm, and comforting. I am rarely pro-American cheese, but in these enchiladas, all of my food arguments were rendered invalid. As for drinks, I tried both the margarita and the michelada, a perfect pairing of sweet and salty. I hope to come back for the breakfast tacos for dinner, the barbacoa salad, and the guacamole.
Probably best that this deliciousness is only served Mondays, as my wallet and my willpower are no match for any of it.
When both a trusted website and a trusted friend recommended Upstate, I knew I needed to taste for myself. The first time I tried to go, it was sadly closed for a private party for a financial company. Like a sad puppy, I looked longingly at the bankers slurping trays of bi-valve goodness. I was the seafood-less 99%. Unlike a sad puppy, my eyes were not appealing enough to gain some seafood of my own. I finally went back last week, and was rewarded with an airy, comfortable, and most importantly, open restaurant. It’s small, but charming, with a wood bar, and windows onto First Avenue.
My friend ordered the scallops special which that night was served with a mushroom risotto. The scallops were perfectly seared and buttery. It was hard not to steal them. I had ordered clams steamed in beer, but there was a mix up in the order. Rather than asking me to wait another couple of minutes while they made the dish (which I frankly did not notice, too involved with my Kelso Saison and conversation), they threw in a free order of fettuccine with clams. Garlicky, briny pasta with lots of white wine, butter, and even a little parmesan. Which I’m sure is part of the recipe for seafood induced ecstasy. Did I mention it was free? A few bites into this deliciousness, and the other clams showed up.
I’m not sure what kind of beer they were steamed in, but the mild bitterness of the hops completed the clams nicely, as did the onions. It’s served with bread, which is an excellent sauce delivery system. The prices were reasonable, the staff cheerful and accommodating, the beer craft and local, and the seafood delicious. As if this was not enough, along with the bill, diners receive a a piece of whiskey cake, a boozy, sugary creation not to be missed. I didn’t even try the oysters, an oversight which I hope to rectify during future visits.
95 First Avenue
Open Tuesdays-Sundays 5pm-12am. Closed Mondays.
www.upstatenyc.com
Soundtrack Series 1
Watched “Party Girl” over the weekend for the first time. In addition to being pleasantly surprised that some of it was (at least for exteriors) shot by the Seward Park Library (LES represent!), I’ve been loving the soundtrack-a danceable blend of early 80s mid-90s house, disco, reggae, and other things that have been missing from my life since approximately junior high, which I was kicking and screaming my way through at the time.
I think this is what I hoped my early twenties would be when I was twelve, full of drag queens, colorful makeup, loft parties, and crate digging DJs. The unstoppable forces of real estate, the Giuliani administration, the death and life of cabaret licenses, and of my own self confidence diminished some of those chances, then, though I think I found a good chunk of what I was looking for then, now, just in a different way.
Deee-Lite is worthy of four e’s status delightful, the Tom Tom Club is currently causing embarrassing chair dancing aside from the “Genius of Love” sample in Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy”, and really, when was the last time you listened to Brooklyn Funk Essentials? Exactly. Here are a couple of my favorites:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNlj3WtKzMA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_LKYyXFFrU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6zdNy1J3qM
Cotton candy vocals and machine gun guitars. If you’re feeling sinister, you can try to get into their sold out Terminal 5 show tonight, if you were not one of the lucky ones. But rather than paying Stubhub or your friendly neighborhood scalper, you can spend some of your cold, hard cash on other local businesses and institutions tonight.
One Step Beyond at the Museum of Natural History with Prefuse 73 and the Rapture DJs: Fulfill your Night at the Museum dreams and dance under the enjoyably fake stars at the Planetarium. You can ponder the wonders of the universe with a perfectly on point soundtrack from these bands, whose DJ skills I’m willing to bet live up to their music.
http://www.amnh.org/calendar/event/One-Step-Beyond-with-Prefuse-73,-The-Rapture-DJ%27s/
Pay what you wish at The International Center of Photography: Catch Murder is My Business, a collection of photographer Weegee’s series of crime scenes from New York mostly in the 1930s and 40s. The black and white photos may be jarring, but some of the best parts of this show are the reaction shots from the crowds surrounding the crimes, a mix of horror, sadness, shock, and just a dash of voyeurism lingering around the edges. To balance out all of the bodies, the exhibit recreates Weegee’s studio, and adds some cityscapes and shots of Coney Island. This exhibit is equal parts grit, and glamor.
http://www.icp.org/
Mates of State with Sean Bones at Le Poisson Rouge: If the aggro cheerleader vibe of Sleigh Bells is too much for right now, Mates of State’s boy-girl vocals and keyboards are sweet without being cloying, and the energy infectious. Perfect for fans of handclaps, harmonies, and infectious energy. In the interest of full disclosure, I know nothing about Sean Bones, but I do know that LPR has great sound and sight lines.
http://www.lepoissonrouge.com/events/view/3011
NYCEDC has a Tumblr already? Before I got to pitch it to them and City Planning? I was hoping it could be a productive use of my urban policy masters as well as my social media addiction. While I nurse the pain of my continued freelance existence (though if anyone wants to change that…) the magic of my addiction means I can still add comments for free. For those of us currently in a long term relationship with ourselves, and like the Hold Steady, believe that it burns being broke and it hurts to be heartbroken, here are my suggestions for how to stimulate the economy tonight:
Hecate’s Valentine After Party at Sleep No More: The interactive theatrical blend of Macbeth and Hitchcock’s Rebecca, has been a sleeper hit for months. Groups of rapt theatergoers in masks follow various characters through a maze of warehouses, whose spaces embody forests, hotels, barns, offices, and ornate Victorian mansions, depending on where you turn. The play is as captivating and haunting as reviews suggest, but also upwards of $80. For a slightly less expensive experience, visit after 11pm for a chance to party in the McKittrick Hotel. Hecate, the goddess of crossroads, would like to see you. Also, I would be running to this if I didn’t think I couldn’t afford to work on three hours of sleep tomorrow. It’s worth it for the space alone. Need some pre-party carbo loading? Visit Vezzo, across the street for pizza.
http://us-deals.timeout.com/new-york/deals/new-york-the-mckittrick-hotel-120125
The Rejection Show: Valentine’s Day Heartbreak Haven: Join comedians, musicians, and writers including Lizz Winstead and Dave Hill for an evening of the best rejection and heartbreak stories from years past, plus live music, and a dance party. Also, pizza. Do you know what will always love you? Pizza. I went two years ago, and Julie Klausner’s story provided the kinds of laughing so hard I snort experiences, which I’m sure were incredibly sexy to everyone sitting near me. Line forms to the left.
http://www.littlefieldnyc.com/event/84881/
City Lights and Live Music at Nitehawk: Chaplin? Live piano? A movie theater in which you can have a cocktail as you watch? I’m always partial to the opportunity to sit in a dark room and watch shiny moving pictures while drinking delicious drinks, but how often do you get all three of the glorious above-mentioned elements? Not enough.
http://nymag.com/listings/nightlife/city-lights/
nycedc:
Valentine’s Day in NYC By the Numbers
Valentine’s Day spending in New York City will total approximately $566 million this year. A survey by the National Retail Federation reveals that 60% of adults age 18+ in the Northeast are celebrating the holiday, and that these people will spend $146.30 each, on average.
Not surprisingly, the two most common Valentine’s Day purchases after greeting cards are candy and flowers. Survey respondents in the Northeast said that they planned to spend $22.71 on candy and $38.65 on flowers this year. These two industries combined employ approximately 3,000 people in the City.
Nearly a third of people celebrating plan to have an evening out – and anyone that has tried booking restaurant reservations for Valentine’s Day in NYC will know that tables are scarce and the occasion is used for marked up prix fixe menus. There are plenty of traditional Valentine’s options for dinner in NYC, but there are bargains to be had at, of all places, White Castle.
Photo credit: Malcolm Brown/NYC & Company
I’ve always loved the bass lines in songs of all genres, but I didn’t know I needed a live performance based around the upright bass in my life. A recent concert at the always-lovely Manhattan Inn in Greenpoint convinced me otherwise. Baldwin, who is most often seen in The Dirty Projectors, sings and plays the upright bass. The combination is impressive-Baldwin sometimes scratches the strings, but mostly it’s all straight ahead rhythm, and that rhythm is soothing. Hi voice is a little on the tenor side, but with just enough of a whiskey edge to make things interesting. It also provides some necessary melody, making a band out of bass and voice. I particularly liked his cover of Arthur Russell’s “A Little Lost.” Combined with one of the Manhattan Inn’s deliciously comforting hot toddys it felt like the best therapy for winter, on a windy Sunday.
I could have done without the guy near the stage narrating his description of how to make the best grilled cheese. I mean, I adore grilled cheese. My feelings on the glorious marriage between carbs and cheese are known, and will continue to be documented. I just wish this guy could have saved his soliloquy for another time.
In the midst of my current struggle with a flu-like monster, while trying to put in enough hours of work to ensure I actually get paid this week, I needed to bring in some heavy artillery. While I enjoy a nice session with Nyquil (don’t act like you don’t enjoy it too), I knew I needed to supplement it with something less coma inducing.
Relief came in the form of pho, in this case from Pho Grand, a quick, cheap, and delicious Vietnamese restaurant within delivery range of my bed. While I was too cold addled to evaluate the broth, and whether it had the requisite richness and spices, I can tell say that with enough warm broth, meat, vermicelli noodles, sprouts, mint leaves, basil and hot sauce, I began to hate life at least 50% than I had pre-pho. And that’s all I can really ask for from a $6 bowl of soup. Also, the restaurant is nice enough to package all the elements separately, so the noodles and herbs don’t get soggy, and you can assemble it however you like. It also makes reheating very easy. A nice element of control, when control is sorely lacking. I had a beef rendition, but there are a lot of choices, all of which I’m looking forward to sampling once my nose and tastebuds are in better working order.
