The Snapshot

"And you know what? To protect my kids, I’d lie, too. I’d lie on a stack of Bibles."

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 15:41:16 -0500

““And you know what? To protect my kids, I’d lie, too. I’d lie on a stack of Bibles.””

- Deb Kosarick, A Loaded Gun by Patrick Radden Keefe, The New Yorker

I’ve always thought of Bon Iver as my generation’s replacement for James Taylor. Sad...

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 17:16:20 -0500

I’ve always thought of Bon Iver as my generation’s replacement for James Taylor. Sad music to listen too when you’re in the mood for cryface. But I’d found myself listening to them (really, him) on my iTunes for months. Somehow soothing to find the quiet despair of my cubicle life echoed in the quite despair of his songs. I don’t know. It could just be familiarity.

Regardless, I got last minute tickets to the Bon Iver concert at Radio City Music Hall last fall. Turns out, this was a stroke of luck, as Bon Iver has gone on hiatus from touring for a while and I discovered, albeit very late, how visceral and hefty the music is live. Yes, I use the word heft. This wasn’t a boring acoustic concert. It was the full band and more- a visual and aural feast. I should have figured this out given Justin Vernon’s prog-rock background. I didn’t know what a song like Woods could do until I saw what they put up on that stage. For big pop acts, I find live shows ultimately disappointing. Instead, what a surprise to find the songs reinvigorated and living. Ok, Bon Iver, I officially underestimated you. I might be five years too late but I’m glad I went to watch your show. You are good. Bravo.

"And then, with the feather-green darkness pressed against the windows, he puts his filthy fingers on..."

Tue, 07 Aug 2012 11:15:02 -0400

“And then, with the feather-green darkness pressed against the windows, he puts his filthy fingers on my scrubbed hope face and says, in a tone that falls somewhere between optimism and regret: “If I kiss you, it’s all over.”
And then he does. And then it is.”

- Emma Forrest, Your Voice In My Head

In all the craziness of these past six months, I’ve only managed to watch Pulp and The...

Fri, 01 Jun 2012 16:57:00 -0400

In all the craziness of these past six months, I’ve only managed to watch Pulp and The Magnetic Fields in concert. The former was filled with all manner of manic energy and pogo-jumping while the latter was rapt, respectful contemplation in the church of Stephin Merritt. I mean, he did try to be all casual about it, but the only response to those quiet songs is to sit and listen, really. Even if he was wearing a baseball bat and trying to be irreverent. How else can one respond to The Book Of Love? All the lovers were silent. All the lover-less were also silent, remembering what they lost.

As for Pulp , Jarvis Cocker was a shambolic sight, reminding me of some wayward British professor taking a break from his easy chair to lecture with amusement at his audience. I remembered how gloriously beautiful Steve Mackey is. But best of all, I could finally vent all my anger and frustration at the deadening weight of financial obligation with no rescue in sight by shouting along to the chorus of Common People. Oh, to be born a trust-fund baby in my next life.

One day I will remember this.

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 12:54:54 -0400

One day I will remember this.

"The freedom to be cruel is one of journalism’s uncontested privileges, and the renderings of..."

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 15:51:23 -0400

“The freedom to be cruel is one of journalism’s uncontested privileges, and the renderings of subjects as if they were characters in bad novels is one of its widely accepted conventions.”

- Janet Malcolm, The Silent Woman

Afternoon in Madison Square Park, by the Flatiron Building

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 15:46:01 -0400

Afternoon in Madison Square Park, by the Flatiron Building

"Jocelyn has chopped black hair that looks permanently wet, and twelve ear piercings that I gave her..."

Tue, 17 Jan 2012 16:17:00 -0500

“Jocelyn has chopped black hair that looks permanently wet, and twelve ear piercings that I gave her with a pointed earring, not using ice. She has a beautiful half-Chinese face. It makes a difference.”

-
Rhea from Jennifer Egan’s novel A Visit From The Goon Squad

Photo

Tue, 06 Dec 2011 14:25:16 -0500

Days with the master - a play called SEMINAR

Tue, 22 Nov 2011 15:05:00 -0500

One of the advantages of moving back to New York is the access to all the great plays on Broadway and off-Broadway. I missed Alan Rickman’s short run at the BAM so I knew that I needed to be front and center to see him on the boards for the Broadway debut of Seminar. Most folks will remember him from Harry Potter but he already won my heart way back in the day with Truly, Madly, Deeply. Given my liberal-arts bereft education, I probably would not have discovered Pablo Neruda without it. So off to the previews I went in my black lace dress.

Alan Rickman did not disappoint - I came away entranced by not only his performance but by the perfect gem of a comedy that I had seen onstage. The ensemble was stellar, their deliveries on note, and every line sang true. I wonder if I am so exuberant about this play because I can laugh self-consciously at all the workshop-critique and Yaddo shop talk. I wonder if I only laugh because it hits too close to home, what with the local theatre crowd gasping at the audacity of an $800 a month rent-controlled apartment on the Upper West Side with river views?

There is no way to separate the personal from this review so I will only say that Theresa Rebeck has written a truly wonderful comedic play that snaps and pops in all the right places and that you should go see. Too often I have gone to plays and appreciated the individual performances, and not the narrative. Something always seem to be missing to make the entire play a cohesive experience. You know that feeling you get in a movie where you think, this should have ended ten minutes, fifteen minutes ago? Well, there was none of that here. SEMINAR is a crackling play that is perfectly paced. I went with all intentions of getting Alan Rickman’s autograph and came away wanting to meet Theresa Rebeck instead. To pick her brain and perhaps magically absorb some of her writing magic. I hope she gets a Tony for this.

This is beautiful.

Tue, 08 Nov 2011 10:27:17 -0500

This is beautiful.

Subway stop, early evening - 110th and Broadway.

Mon, 17 Oct 2011 19:51:00 -0400

Subway stop, early evening - 110th and Broadway.

"Being a child is like nothing. It’s only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into..."

Fri, 14 Oct 2011 12:16:00 -0400

“Being a child is like nothing. It’s only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.”

- Avice Brenner Cho from China Mieville’s novel Embassytown

Jonathan Franzen talks DFW

Wed, 12 Oct 2011 12:07:00 -0400

Jonathan Franzen talks DFW :

The writer Jonathan Franzen mourns his friend David Foster Wallace but also talks about coming to grips with the anger that comes from experiencing someone you love kill himself. This confirms for me what I’ve always felt about the inherent selfishness of suicide, like it’s a big “fuck you” to the people who love you. Franzen’s writing also resonates in that I remember how it is to love someone dealing with addiction - loving their kind sensitive self but also hating the part of their persona that lies and hurts everyone and everything in their path.

I have to acknowledge my lack of strength. I left this person I loved when I could no longer deal with the aftermath of his addiction and denial. I couldn’t deal with the mood swings, the inconsistency. The breaking point was the morning I had, pounding on a locked bedroom door for an hour and a half, thinking that he had deliberately overdosed while I slept on the couch that night. We still nominally maintained our friendship in the aftermath but when his groggy voice finally came through the wooden door that day, I was relieved but also extremely angry at what he had put me through. He couldn’t even open the door in the end. And I found that despite our years together, I couldn’t forgive. That was when I started to abandon him. That was when I abandoned him.

The entire web right now is overflowing with tributes to this...

Thu, 06 Oct 2011 20:06:00 -0400

The entire web right now is overflowing with tributes to this man. I’m more a PC person myself but I do value the way he lived his life - he owned his choices and did want he wanted. He always knew what he wanted. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. But the best thing he said in this speech, which resonates like hell, is “life is too short to live someone else’s life.“ He lived several decades less than he would have wanted. But he lived his own life. I cannot say the same. My life has been a series of compromises. It’s been interesting so far, but there could be much more. Steve Jobs understood MORE. He lived it. Ah death - now that I have a child, I now understand the devastation it can bring. All I can send are virtual hugs and kind thoughts to his family, especially his wife and kids. It can’t be easy but it must be of some comfort to know how much he was loved and respected by the world.

Thoreau said, if you advance in the general direction of your dreams, you may have them

Fri, 09 Sep 2011 14:38:31 -0400

Thoreau said, if you advance in the general direction of your dreams, you may have them

I miss New Zealand.

Sat, 03 Sep 2011 00:00:00 -0400

I miss New Zealand.

Once again, Sugar says it with wisdom and compassion.

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 14:57:56 -0400

Once again, Sugar says it with wisdom and compassion.

"So write. Not like a girl. Not like a boy. Write like a motherfucker."

Fri, 29 Jul 2011 14:30:00 -0400

“So write. Not like a girl. Not like a boy. Write like a motherfucker.”

- Well said, Sugar.

Another romantic short film. I am all sighs of longing today.

Thu, 30 Jun 2011 10:00:59 -0400

Another romantic short film. I am all sighs of longing today.