The Global Online Magazine of Arts, Information & Entertainment

July-August 2015 |Volume 11 Number 4


Photographer

Documenting Chinatown

Photographer rediscovers work from 30 years ago

An interview with Bud Glick

“Our photography becomes a part of the history of the community in which we work.”

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Commentary

 

Before We Have an Honest Discussion About Race

Galanty Miller/On Race

 

“…it’s easy to expunge slavery from our collective memory.”

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ART

 

On the Fringe: The Art of Chris Dale

“What is unpredictable are the subjects…”

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Featured Posts

On Location / France

 

Belegou 2

Jean-Claude Bélégou:

Yesterday as Today

With “Studies/Humanities,” the artist returns to fundamentals, such as the “procession of models of Wednesday afternoon in the ’70s.” He cites the influence of philosophers, writers and filmmakers…

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Column

Photo: Peter Moore

Then and Now

Motorcycle Memories

By Stephen Poleskie

…if the weather is half good, there are the motorcycles. Coming up the hill it’s a roar or a whine, depending on whether the bike is a Harley hog or a café racer. Going down it’s a muffled growl and a pop, pop, pop, or a whining ring, ding, ding, as the rider downshifts. But I can’t complain about the motorcycle riders, as I was once one of them myself. I can recall fondly rattling down the canyons of Manhattan with my straight pipes blaring…

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Literary

 

Wortsman 13

Where Have All the Bookstores Gone?

New York City’s Independent Booksellers —

Endangered Species or

Phoenix on the Rise?

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Column

literal

 

Am I Being Too Literal?

by Mark Levy

 The word “literal,” for me, has gone from being mildly annoying to exasperating. After you hear why, I am pretty sure it will literally rankle you, too.

Literal is an adjective that means taking a word in its usual, explicit, or most basic or ordinary sense. When you’re being literal, you’re about as straightforward as you can get…

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Editor's Note

If “Timing is everything,” the timing of this issue is on the money.

 Galanty Miller’s regular Retweets are accompanied with an essay by the author as sociologist (Galanty is a sociology professor) in a conversation about Race – “an honest discussion,” at that, preceded by “an honest discussion about Slavery.” Especially relevant as the nation climbs out its foxhole after the Charleston shootings, and as a conflicted world deals with an epidemic of intolerance in all its forms that threatens peace and freedom from South Carolina to Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Nigeria, et al, ad nauseum.

If you’re as tired as am I of the use and abuse of the words “literal” and “literally”, then read Casual ObserverMark Levy’s column… the sooner the overworked adjective and adverb are put to bed, the better.

Music editor Fred Roberts kills it again, this time with his review of The Base, who kill it themselves with music that’s as addictive as anything we’ve heard in quite a while…. Think of it as a combination of The National and Leonard Cohen, with a dose of Dada.  Haunting melodies, haunting lyrics from what could well be haunted musicians.

Politics Editor Jim Palombo presents his provocative and timely observations following a month-long stay in Cuba.  And, in a bit of a change from his usual work, Palombo, along with 30-year Rolling Stones’ roadie and guitar tech Johnny Starbuck, presents an engaging piece on Johnny’s career.

The featured image (above) is one of several from the Chinatown Series of photographs taken by Bud Glick in the 1970s, when Chinatown was still a most distinctive neighborhood in lower Manhattan…

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Most Recent Posts

Saramanda Swigart/Fiction

She listened until she could hear the objects in the room hum. The gilt plates, impressed with hunting scenes from the Shahnameh, hummed a rich bass. The archeologists had gasped when they saw she’d set the table with them. They’d put on their gloves so the oil from their hands wouldn’t touch the gold, and rushed them back to her father’s study, and closed the glass over them.

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Barbara Rosenthal/Art Review

This is an understated series of stately whimsicality. It is beautiful to look at and fun to walk amidst. The pastel and royal colors, pinky coral, soft aqua, pale yellow, deep ultramarine, sometimes against black, sometimes with a subtle white-line texture, sometimes on a bit of cloth, are subtly mixed and matched, and the conceptual and visual delicacy of their combinations is supremely refreshing to the eye and mind in an age of so much harshness in painted forms.

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Bud Glick / Photographer

The same desire to connect with other people brought me to documentary photography. From the beginning, I was inspired by documentary photographers and documentary photography was all I wanted to do. The camera was a bridge back to my childhood love of art and, for me, a better way to connect to a wider world…

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Bookstores of New York

The prognosis for the future is mixed in Uptown Manhattan. Among the last of the independents on the Upper West Side is Book Culture, at 536 West 112th, around the corner from the gates of Columbia University and down the block from the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. The store has long leaned to the scholarly, but the academic book business is in a slump, given the dwindling number of students applying to and pursuing Ph.D.s in the humanities. In business since 1997, owner Chris Doeblin decided to diversify. In 2009 he opened a new store, Book Culture on Broadway, that also carries “non-book,” i.e. scarves, toys, and knickknacks, along with more popular titles. But sales in the main store are declining. Doeblin ascribes the sorry state of affairs at least in part to an industry at odds with itself…

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Rolling with the Stones

“… What I remember the most was that several hours afterwards I was walking down the hotel corridor and as I passed an open door I saw Keith Richards sitting at a table by himself in his room. Of course having not met him yet I just continued walking but within a second or two I heard ‘Hey, roadie, come on in and say hello.’ Well I sort of froze but managed to saunter into his room, noticing that a rather large amount of drugs and a bottle of Jack Daniels were his only company. And as he invited me to sit, talk and enjoy I remember saying to myself ‘Don’t blow this man, I think he wants to see who I am so I got to keep up with it all, I mean this is fucking Keith Richards.’…”

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Fred Roberts/Music

Where is My Weather is a wonderful album, the cognac of rock and roll, gritty, dirty, poetic, thoughtful, wonderfully arranged, and rich cultural influences befitting its geographical birthplace. It could be a distant cousin to Steve Wynn’s Crossing Dragon Bridge, recorded in Slovenia. Trying to place Norbert Wally’s vocals has been driving me crazy.

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Galanty Miller/Re-Tweets

It’s so sad that John Lennon and George Harrison are dead because now the Beatles can never reunite with Kanye West./ Washington “Redskins” is a terribly offensive name. Imagine how outraged people would be if a team was named the Washington Red BLACKS./ If a tree falls at my funeral, does it make a sound?

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On Location/France

Lisa Beck’s installation in Lausanne, Switzerland. The Middle of Everywhere Lisa Beck, “The Middle of Everywhere” proposition de Caroline Soyez-Petithomme du 6 juin au 11 juillet 2015 Circuit, centre d’art contemporain, Lausanne.   By Jean-Paul... read more

On Location/France

With “Studies/Humanities,” the artist returns to fundamentals, such as the “procession of models of Wednesday afternoon in the ’70s.” He cites the influence of philosophers, writers and filmmakers, including: Apollinaire, Nerval, Hegel, Freud and Jen-Luc Godard, among others.

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Got Them Missouri Blues/Music

Nick & Bootsy working the mics during their “music discovery” program in the studios of KKID radio, Missouri.     The Basement Tapes: Up & Coming, Here & There on KKID: “Everyone is local to somewhere.” Imet Nick and Bootsy about 15... read more

Savage Mountain/John Smelcer

Sebastian wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t just climb back up to the top. Once he stood on the crest, his brother’s weight would pull him off the north side of the mountain. He certainly couldn’t cut the rope. Sebastian slowly formed a plan and began climbing toward the top of the crest. When he was close, he hammered a piton into the rock face and connected himself to it with a carabiner and a short piece of rope; anchored that way, he couldn’t be dragged off the other side.

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86 Sonnets/Book Review

I was attracted to the title of this new poetry collection by Mary Barnet, the Founder/Editor of poetrymagazine.com because I know how difficult it is to write sonnets and admit giving up on them and concentrating on other forms — the triolet, villanelle, and pantoum…

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Then and Now/Steve Poleskie

The historically cold winter has finally left us. As it’s warmer now, we have the windows open; no air conditioning for our 150-year-old farmhouse. One thing my wife and I dislike about Florida is the need to have one’s air-conditioner cranked up all year long. Living on the side of a hill and having twenty acres of woods and fields, surrounded by a 700 acre state park, we enjoy having the windows up to let in a fresh breeze. Unfortunately, the open windows also let in the noise…

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After Birth/Book Review

Another day gone, okay and I get it, I got it: I’m over. I no longer exist,” says Ari, the sometimes blunt, always quirky narrator of After Birth, a first novel from Elisa Albert. Throughout the novel, Ari struggles with her identity, now that she is no longer single, and no longer pregnant, but a mother…

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On the Fringe: The Art of Chris Dale

Chris Dale is as self-effacing as one would expect a person to be whose passion overrules ego. Short on answers, long on art — where he spends his time — his work represents the expression of ideas and feelings in a consistent and nearly predictable manner. What is unpredictable are the subjects, which range from a dancer caught in her own moment, to the appearance and acceptance of a gay couple kissing…

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Tony Magistrale/Poetry

A Short Treatise on Time “There are days when the fear of death illuminates everything.”           —Ted Kooser I’m weary of bemoaning so many lost hours,   as if we ever had any choice other than a one-way ticket with a time-stamp securely in place,   like... read more

Stephen Kaplan/Poetry

    THE TROLLEY CAR     All the windows broken snow drifted into the interior. Some demon had left it on six feet of track some seventy years ago. Demons function efficiently during the winter.   It was seen and not seen. When eyes walked past... read more

Tim Suermondt/Poetry

  RAY   It’s absurd to say we’ll live forever but just as absurd to say we won’t— the angels sitting on the treetops have a purpose, whether they be real or not. The Irish bar has been closed down but if a man or woman were to look inside they’d see us both... read more

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