Sculptor Ian Schneller and champion whistler Andrew Bird joined forces on the Guggenheim’s rotunda in early August for the Dark Sounds concert series, performances that were conceived in conjunction with the Haunted: Contemporary Photography/Video/Performance exhibition. In the spirit of Haunted, we went analog and had photographer Ryan Spencer shoot the show on his 35mm camera.
Tag Archives: Lena Valencia
BOMB’s very own Lena Valencia and music blogger PIXELHORSE (a.k.a Elise Oh) give you an instant-messaged tour of this year’s Northside Festival put on by L Magazine, complete with pictures and video. It’s easy. It’s virtual. And much, much less sweaty. For blogger coverage of a festival curated by bloggers click through!
Lady Caroline Blackwood may be best remembered for her marriages to painter Lucian Freud and poet Robert Lowell, but it is her career as a writer and critic that deserves our attention. Counterpoint’s expertly curated collection of her short stories and essays re-introduce readers to her strange and biting wit.
Oh, the glamorous life of an independent film director! Hong Sang-soo turns the lens on himself (maybe) in Like You Know It All, an angst-ridden portrait of a critically acclaimed but otherwise little-known director’s trial and error love affairs, friendships, and mishaps. Director Koo, the slouching, perpetually befuddled protagonist, has been selected to be a judge for Jechon, Korea’s film festival—he’s more interested in the soju.
VIDEO! It would have been easy for Dean Wareham to rest on the laurels of his cult status and make a little extra money off reunion tours after the dissemination of Galaxie 500 and Luna, but—along with his bandmate and wife, Britta Phillips—he continues to produce new work and tour. The two indie veterans graced Southpaw for an early show with their dreamy tunes and near-perfect bone structures on New Year’s Eve.
We follow the dutiful, slouching cop Cristi (Dragos Bucur) through the crumbling, gray streets of Vaslui, Romania as he pursues a teenager suspected of dealing hash. The longer he tails the suspect and his friends, the fuzzier the source of the drugs becomes. Cristi is certain that Romania’s drug possession laws will be changed within the next couple of years, and doesn’t want to put a teenager behind bars for a law that will soon be nonexistent. His superiors are none too happy with this, the job of a police officer is, after all, to withhold the law, not act out of “moral law.”
Yes, Williamsburg—especially Bedford Avenue—has become a tangle of overpriced boutiques, overcrowded brunch spots, and ghastly shells of half-built condos, but there are still a few establishments that make me not want to throw up my hands and move from my shoddy Lorimer St. digs to Red Hook.
When Antichrist premiered at Cannes, the Internet went buzzing. Critics lambasted it as gratuitously violent, scatterbrained, and misogynistic. Director Lars von Trier, meanwhile, kept up his auteur-of-doom persona and, at a press conference, crowned himself the best film director in the world.
Watching Claire Denis’s 35 Shots of Rum made me realize how difficult it is to write about familial love. It seems like it should be easy: the relationships we have with our family members are our first and therefore most deeply seeded, however most film portrayals come out as glib quirk-fests or histrionic documentations of trauma (or a combination of the two).
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