The current oeuvre of Fernando Pomalaza, a Peruvian-born, New York City based artist (who for many years showed at the Marunouchi Gallery in SoHo) presents to the viewer a complex interplay of textures and forms. His canvas, “Escaping the Pandemic,” showcases a deliberate application of bulbous, lugubrious black paint, evoking mandala-like wheels of incarnation. The […]
Fernando’s Liquid Architectures, by Lee Klein Read More »
Kelly Reichardt might be one of our era’s most subversive filmmakers. In this attention-addled age, cinema has gone increasingly loud, increasingly bombastic, increasingly frenetic. And not just in mediocre blockbuster franchise flicks, like Mission: Impossible—Final Reckoning or Tron: Ares, where you expect a certain kind of screaming antsyness; it’s found in more ambitious, highbrow films,
Review of “The Director,” by Daniel Kehlmann; translated from the German by Ross Benjamin by Michael Quinn A director has an idea for a screenplay: wealthy passengers aboard a luxury cruise ship find their peace of mind poisoned by rumors of an impending war. Trust erodes, factions form, conflict escalates. Then, news arrives from a
Quinn on Books: Pabst Blue Ribbon, by Michael Quinn Read More »
I used to be half of a musical act named Working Class Bohemians. The name choice was mine. I got it from a line in Judith Thurman’s excellent biography of the French writer Colette. Whenever I did a gig as part of a duet, it was as Working Class Bohemians. Often it would be with
BOHEMIAN VIBES IN THE DOWNTOWN CONTINUUM, by Stephen DiLauro Read More »
The New York–based performance team of Xhloe Rice and Natasha Roland (billing themselves simply as “Xhloe and Natasha”) has — over the past four years — made tsunami-like splashes at the famed Edinburgh Fringe Festival. The duo has been feted in Scotland for their compelling two-hander dramas, which bring clown play to original texts and
Among the urban renewal disillusionment of gentrification and post-disaster capitalism exists an oasis of boundary-breaking, artist respite, a well of art spirit since 1980, Performance Space. Performance Space is on the fourth floor in the former PS 122 building on First Avenue. The center is humanitarian in practice, a refuge for “queer and radical voices
My month of culture in the East Village, by Kathryn Rose Rieber Read More »
At 5:30 p.m. one Wednesday, I stopped by Sly Fox only to find the door locked, the lights off. Forlorn, I walked the busy streets of East Village, sat on a bench in Tompkins Square Park, listened to a girl describe seeing multiple rats frolicking in the park, watched a squirrel eat a napkin, then
Drinking with Katherine: 2nd Ave’s “The Sly Fox” Read More »
This is the third New York Film Festival I’ve attended as a critic, and increasingly I’ve found myself foregoing the marquee titles — this year represented by the likes of Luca Guadagnino’s After the Hunt and Bradley Cooper’s Is This Thing On? (and, for some reason, Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere) — for the more
Hi ya’ Manhattan-ites, Medea Hoar here with all things fun and festive in the Village. In spite of a love of line dancing and live country music, Manhattan has seen so many honky-tonk venues close or dial back the live music in recent years, Rodeo Bar, Hill Country BBQ, the list goes on and on.
TITS UP BIG APPLE: LUCINDA’S by Medea Hoar Read More »
New York City painter Roberto Azank always surprises. Having been called the “chromatic Mozart,” as he can and has harmonized the seemingly most incongruent hues at the pictorial horizon line, he now turns to abstraction to paint waves of chroma, firstly sampling his own still life and pastoral scenes of lotus flowers upon lily pads
Roberto Azank “Palette Homages,” by Lee Klein Read More »
