So, What Else You Working On, Yoshio?

taniguchi_hiroshima.jpgHere we are, the week before Thanksgiving, stuffed and groggy from consuming so much MoMA-related press, which we probably have to regurgitate on Thursday for our out-of-town relatives.
Then comes this new angle for the MoMA-weary: Turns out Yoshio Taniguchi’s other silvery, $400 million-plus, urban planning tour de force, tourist mega-destination has recently opened in Hiroshima. It’s the Naka Incineration Plant, a 490,000 sf waterfront waste processing center that’s open for public tours, in order to encourage Hiroshimans to consume wisely. [and while they’re there; Taniguchi threw in a bar.]
Like its sister building in Manhattan, the NIP [hmm. let me confirm that acronym, -g.] features Taniguchi’s clean lines and meticulous attention to detail. No word on the ticket price.
Hilton Kramer, you cranky old deluded bastard, consider this an early Christmas gift. And for the rest of you MoMA critics, don’t say I never gave you anything (besides a drubbing over some of your flimsy and/or hysterical arguments, that is). As for me, I think it kind of looks like the Tate.
Beauty in Garbage: Naka Incineration Plant by Yoshio Taniguchi [Fred Bernstein in ArchNewsNow, via life without buildings]

Given Wi-Fi Enough And Time, What I’d Like To Watch From Tate Modern’s Archive

  • Pamela Lee: After Obsolescence
    The art historian talks about time and the work of On Kawara, Wolfgang Staehle, and Bill Morrison (Decasia)

  • Todd Haynes in conversation with Richard Dyer
  • Olafur Eliasson, around the time of his The Weather Project
  • Painting Present: Francis Alys [what’s up with that guy?]
  • Agnes Varda
  • Martin Creed
  • some parts of Moving Image as Art: Time-based media in the art gallery
    [thanks, archinect]

  • Felix On Richter At DIA

    When we went to DIA Beacon last fall, we gave the Gerhard Richter gallery a cursory glance on the way in, and then were transfixed by it on the way out. It’s the kind of thing you have to be in the mood for, attuned to, and that seems to take some time.
    Felix Salmon feels similarly, but he writes about the experience much more clarity.
    Richter at Dia [felixsalmon.com]

    On Art At MoMA

    I heard there was art at MoMA. Here are some highlights:

  • City Square, Alberto Giacometti’s tabletop sculpture of personages on non-intersecting trajectories used to be embedded in the wall at the entrance of the post-war galleries. Now it’s installed in the center of the room, so you can walk all the way around it.
    Giacometti described his attenuated figures as existing on the edge of perception, as if they just came into view on a hazy horizon. I’ve always wanted to make a movie recreating this sculptural scene on Utah’s Salt Flats, the existentialist remake of Eve Sussman’s 89 Seconds at Alcazar. See City Square on the Flash site for MoMA’s 2001 Giacometti retrospective.

  • One, (Number 31, 1950), 1950, Jackson Pollock: One of the iconic works in MoMA’s collection, it now feels more closely situated with the of the artist’s work; you easily take in several paintings at a time. [One page]
    bnewman_vir.jpg
  • The old classical–and aesthetically magical–enfilade installation of One (Number 31, 1950) and Barnett Newman’s Vir Heroicus Sublimins (also 1950) has been replaced by a less privileged lateral, room-to-room hanging. Now, from a diagonal vantage point, you can take both of these paintings in at once instead of turning your back on one, then the other. I’m sure there are plenty of interpretive and ideologically significant ways to read this.
  • The giant Twombly in the contemporary gallery is the new One, a painting to fill and overwhelm your field of vision. This wall and approach is much worthier of it than the oblique, cramped partitioned space in Philip Johnson’s old ‘basketball court’ gallery, where it hung during the Twombly retrospective.
    Still, the most rewarding Twombly experience is upstairs, where two later, graffitoed paintings face Rauschenberg’s contemporaneous drawing/collages. It’s the kind of dialogue that the Rauschenberg in the Fifties show at the Menil and Guggenheim could’ve captured, but didn’t. [Cy and Bob traveled to Rome together as kids.]

  • The entire drawings show is a masterpiece; you could spend all day there, if it weren’t for the pull of the rest of the museum.
  • Guys and Twenty Dollars

    In the nineteen-thirties and forties, Damon Runyon was the most widely read journalist in the country, and his movies like Double Indemnity and Broadway plays like Guys and Dolls were hits. Runyon held court nightly in Lindy’s Restaurant on Broadway and 51st Street, which, even in May 1949, three years after his death, was the fabled realworld haunt of many of his thinly fictionalized characters: Dave the Dude, Harry the Horse, Izzy Cheesecake.
    In his Times’ May 22, 1949 profile, Leo “Lindy” Lindemann told of a “timid, well-dressed” older woman who came to the restaurant asking after “some of those quaint persons Mr. Runyon writes about.” Lindy pointed her to a regular, who he identified as Morris the Schnook. “She was delighted. She pressed his hand when she left. When she reached the siewalk, the Lindy habitues roared with laughter. Morris the Schnook was their invention. Their butt was really Abe Lyman, the orchestra leader.” And thus, the Times saw fit for the first time to print the term “schnook.”
    Now, 55 years later, and just months after self-hating Jew Jerome Robbins was quoted calling himself “a schnook from Weehawken,” I’m as surprised as an orchestra leader to offer up the 86th appearance of “schnook” in the paper of record. Frankly, I’m a little verklempt.

    What Is the Value of Priceless Art? Debate Continues on $20 Admission
    [NYT]

    Hilton Kramer Wakes Up, Finds Out It’s 2004

    Needless to say, he’s in a bad mood.
    Related, I’m guessing, from Christopher Knight in the LAT: “It will also drive some people nuts, which is another reason to applaud. At a preview, one notoriously fusty critic was heard to shriek, in reference to what he imagined was being done to Barr’s legacy, ‘This is patricide! Patricide!'”
    Oedipus on 53rd St [Observer]

    Fox Presents: Bocaccio’s Decalogue

    Now! From television’s acknowledged experts in adultery, profanity, lying, and covetousness!
    According to Variety, FX SVP Gerard Bocaccio dreamed up the concept for ‘The Ten Commandments,’ a series of 10 one-hour TV movies which will “explore the spiritual and moral issues faced by modern America.”
    Steven Soderbergh and George Clooney’s Section Eight will exec produce, and the two will be joined by eight other “A-list directors [sic, Clooney’s A-list? how about ‘up-and-coming’? Seriously, people],” and each will tackle a commandment.
    I wonder who gets “Thou shalt not steal?”
    Related:
    FX gets serious about Bible study [Variety, via Yahoo, thanks to GreenCine]
    Read like a million posts about Kieslowski’s Decalogue, a ten-hour made-for-TV exploration of the spiritual and moral issues faced by modern America Poland.

    Y Tu MoMA Tambien

    While a few “right on”s and “elitist”s trickled in over the weekend, and my favorite–“MoMA is a corporation, the new building is a corporate HQ. You are a foot soldier”–just arrived yesterday morning, the quality of the responses to my little MoMA admissions price challenge did not improve with time.
    I should’ve wrapped this up and posted the winners a couple of days ago, but I’ve been too busy hobnobbing with a bunch of MoMA bigwigs (10%) and a kid (99%, Yeah, it doesn’t add up. Tell me about it.)

    Continue reading “Y Tu MoMA Tambien”

    Dennis Lim Reviews Van Gogh’s Submission

    “Artists from Abbas Kiarostami to Shirin Neshat to Ousmane Sembene have confronted the misogyny of conservative Islam in ways that are at once more damning and less willfully profane.”
    Still, just because it was at once outrageously incendiary and a lackluster piece of filmmaking, it’s still chilling and despicable that Van Gogh was killed for Submission.

    The Day I Became a Martyr: Islam Protest Brings Fatal Fatwa
    [Village Voice]
    Related: greg.org entries for Theo Van Gogh

    Raghubir Singh at Sepia International

    Was it Documenta where I was taken in by Raghubir Singh’s quietly masterful color photographs of India, which bring an artist’s eye to documentary photos. Gabriel Orozco meets Cartier-Bresson.
    There was a great show at the Smithsonian last year, and now his work has come to Sepia International. In his review, The Voice’s Vince Aletti tries to gently correct the art historical record to reflect Singh’s early(-er) and powerful use of color. Scoot over, Egglestone, and let Singh up there on the dais, too.

    A Windshield View
    [Village Voice]
    Raghubir Singh: A Retrospective, through Dec. 30 [Sepia International]
    Singh Books at Amazon: A Way Into India, River of Colour

    Not Lost in Translation

    Architect Chad Smith plays Scarlett Johanson in his own remake of Lost in Translation: he’s tagging along to the Park Hyatt in Tokyo on his boyfriend’s business trip. The only trouble is, he’s not lost, he’s not depressed, and he’s not confused. And presumably, when he gets back to the US, people at the Golden Globes won’t think he’s a bee-atch.
    Stick your nose into his diary at littleminx.com.

    Movie Theaters I’ve Been To That Have Closed

    This afternoon on WNYC, Jonathan Schwartz was reading an underwriter plug for Zankel Hall, when he stopped and said, “Some of you may remember that Zankel Hall is in the site of the Carnegie Theater, a movie theater with–well it was very small and down a windy staircase–with personality. So many theaters with personality have closed.”

    hsugimoto-walker-theater.jpg

    That got me thinking, while Schwartz rattled off a dozen theaters I’d never heard of, of the theaters that have closed since I moved to New York:

  • The Carnegie, where I saw Cinema Paradiso a dozen times when I first moved to the city.
  • The theater under The Plaza Hotel
  • The two-screen theater on the south side of East 59th St between 2nd & 3rd.
  • The tiny theater further down East 59th St on the north side, next to the Betsey Johnson boutique.
  • The underground theater on 3rd Avenue between 57th & 58th.
  • Theater 80 St Mark’s, the only revivals-only theater, which was oriented sideways in the basement/back of a tenement building. Their monthly programs were printed in tiny typeface.
  • Lighthouse Cinema, an oddball storefront theater on Norfolk below Rivington.
  • The 68th St Playhouse, on 3rd Ave, where I saw Ridicule. Schwartz mentioned that the last time he went here was to see Mike Nichols in The Designated Mourner.
  • Worldwide Cinema, the awesome discount theater under the plaza at Worldwide Plaza, 50th & 8th Ave., where I saw Austin Powers again and again. Even the concessions were cheap.
  • The theater on 34th between Second & Third that tried to hang on by showing Bollywood films.
  • The awesome theater on the NE corner of Canal and Allen St, at the base of the Manhattan Bridge, that used to show martial arts films.
  • Loew’s Columbus Circle, which was underneath the Paramount Building. Its entrance was similar to the subway entrance. That guy who used to play a lidless grand piano was always right in front.
  • Am I remembering incorrectly, or wasn’t there another theater on Third, right across from Bloomingdale’s? [Update: That’s right, the Baronet & Coronet. Thanks, Chris.]
    There’s a great website for this kind of thing, Cinema Treasures. And Hiroshi Sugimoto began photographing movie theaters almost 30 years ago, and many of them are now gone.