For a few weeks, I’d been cursing the fates that put Shearwater’s headliner at the newly opened Mansion on the same night as Liz Phair’s live performance of Exile in Guyville.
Through most of 1994, Exile was on constant repeat in my stereo. After years of nice and sweet Lilith Fair vagina music, Liz Phair was like a kangaroo kick to the uterus. Much has been written about her subsequent declawing by the desire (hers or her label’s or both) to go mainstream. Her Exile follow up, Whip Smart, contains a few gems like “Supernova” that augured her move toward more straighforward pop while retaining a slight edge. Lyrics like “I’d never been to Rome until you smiled/You’re about as old and piled” (from bitter breakup song “Cinco de Mayo”) couldn’t approach “I want to be your blowjob queen”. However it’s a far cry from striking a Lita Ford album cover pose and insisting “I am extraordinary/if you’d ever get to know me”.
The experience of seeing Liz in her hometown at the smallish Vic Theatre would likely be very memorable. Even though Shearwater’s, Rook is quickly becoming one of my favorite albums, I’d be able to see them another time, right? I almost made the jump.
I never knew these existed. Apparently they were produced by MGM in the 1930s. This is why God invented the internet and You Tube.
I’m amazed by the execution of plotlines, the editing, camera work, and the attention to detail. Take, for example, the grandstand activity at 3:29 in “College Hounds”.
“Queenie’s In Trouble” - the Canine predecessor to SNL’s “The Continental”:
“So Quiet on the Canine Front” - a WWI battlefield re-enactment, complete with breed typecasting starting around 1:48:
Part 2 of “College Hounds”
I mean, how many takes did they need? How did they keep them from fighting/humping/sniffing? Truly a feat, in my opinion.
My neighborhood, River West, has developed more slowly than I’d like in my six years living here. Part of the reason for that is the many buildings and plots owned by one man who has refused to sell or fix up his abandoned properties.
On the positive side, street artists have often made these buildings more interesting by tacking their work to the walls.
Recently, one of these street artists, Brendan Scanlon, was murdered in Logan Square. As a tribute to him, his fellow artists peppered one of the abandoned buildings at Grand and Milwaukee. It’s important to note that this appears to be a senseless, random act of violence. Street artists are not to be confused with gang members that tag buildings with graffiti. Here are a handful of the pieces:
Open kitchens can create a frustrating take out experience. You try not to watch, but after a certain amount of time it’s uncontrollable. You’re like a dog waiting for its owner outside a store: “Is this one mine? What about that one? Is that one mine? WHERE’S MINE!?!?!?!”
Pompei’s open kitchen falls somewhere in the less frustrating range of the spectrum. The restaurant displays all the menu items behind the counter, so customers can see the many (delicious looking) options. My small chicken chopped salad totaled $7.02 with tax and took no more than five minutes from ordering to receipt.
Here’s the salad’s ingredients: chicken, olives (which were promptly extracted), red onion, bacon, tomatoes, Gorgonzola, some Italian dressing as thick as phlegm. They also give you a few pieces of focaccia.
Best aspect of new shit: Overall it was pretty good — chicken was still moist and the size of the salad was filling.
Worst aspect of new shit: It was probably about 600 calories.
New Shit Rating: Repeatable but I’ll probably use a different dressing and leave off the bacon to save a bit on calories.
This was an impulse purchase from a Cost Plus excursion many months ago. Clearly the fact that it took several months to have the desire, energy, and supplies available in our Spartan cabinets shows we don’t cook pancakes very often. It’s probably a once a year occurance when we have houseguests.
In fact, we didn’t have all the supplies this time — I had to use clementine flavored olive oil.
The mix contains actual almond slivers, which is a nice touch since I find typical pancakes boring in texture. I also find typical pancakes too floury, so I added an extra egg to the mix.
The result was delicious - even with the oil substitute.
Best aspect of new shit: Besides the tastiness, it felt good to use the mix that had been sitting there forever.
After a hot, sunny morning into early afternoon, the clouds started to gather. As we stepped out of the cab onto Lincoln Avenue, the sky opened up.
So begins our maiden voyage to Ribfest 2008.
We took cover in the Starbucks with dozen of others while the die-hards remained stagefront cheering on the Company of Thieves (who sounded good, from what I could hear when the doors opened as people came in and out).
Finally after a short period the rain abated and we scoped out the competition between some of Chicago’s best rib purveyors. We also indulged in a pina colada:
Best aspect of new shit: Three way tie: 1) the fun feeling of knowing you’re going to get wet, but not caring; 2) the baristas at Starbucks, who not only allowed the non-buying customers to hang inside but also brought around free samples of chocolate mint frappachinos and passionfruit tea and 3) Sala:
Worst aspect of new shit: Lines got pretty long at the most popular rib vendor booths.
New Shit Rating: Repeatable — if you LOVE ribs or live close. Otherwise it’s probably worth going once.
This is another DSDD, like DSDD Day 7, that’s a little stretch. I’ve seen R.E.M. (six times), Modest Mouse (four times) and the National (twice). In fact, I’ve seen them all within the last 8 months in much smaller venues than the United Center. I was not planning to go to this.
Then I saw an R.E.M. set list from Vancouver that included “Gardening at Night” and an acoustic version of “Let Me In” — two of my all time favorites.
Just a week before the show, I somehow snagged 17th row seats from Ticketmaster (and usually, the “master” part of that is awesomely descriptive in that I feel like a slave to my live music addiction when paying fees out the nose for crappy seats).
So, we went — and I was very very glad we did.
The National
The National must have started nearly on time at 7pm, because we only caught the last five songs of their set:
Mistaken For Strangers, Squalor Victoria, Apartment Story, Racing Like a Pro, Mr. November (I think in that order).
To my surprise, their sound really filled the arena well — it probably helped that they had three horn players in addition to their basic lineup. A few enthusiastic fans were standing and dancing throughout (myself included) but most of the crowd remained seated until many started standing during “Mr. November” and the entire crowd (about 2/3 full) stood to give the band an ovation.
Modest Mouse
Modest Mouse doesn’t elicit lukewarm reactions - it’s either “they rock” or “they suck”. I heard both responses voiced during their set.
I am pretty solidly in the “they rock” contingent. R.E.M. and Modest Mouse are among my all time favorites. However, like R.E.M., Modest Mouse has a handful of songs that I thoroughly loathe. They played nearly every one of them on Friday. Here’s what I can recall of the first part of the set:
- Invisible, Dance Hall, Dashboard, Satin in a Coffin, Fire it Up, King Rat,
I might be off on the order. It was so depressing to see Isaac Brock bring out the banjo three times and not play “Bukowski”. I loathe each one of the above songs (except Dashboard). They are also among the band’s most challenging material, with complex arrangements and a maximum of barked vocals. I guess despite the doors to a new fan base that this gig could open for them, Modest Mouse is going to play whatever the fuck they feel like playing.
Although they brought out “Paper Thin Walls” and “Broke”, they had lost me until I heard the opening riff for “Teeth Like God’s Shoeshine”:
You only get a few seconds of tape on that because there was no way I was watching this number through an LCD screen.
Then, ever the rock star, Isaac Brock put down his guitar and lit up a cigarette while Johnny Marr sat at the piano and they launched into “The Good Times Are Killing Me”:
If these are good times for Modest Mouse, they don’t seem to be taking any of the crazy away.
They closed with “The View”, which I’ve seen them play every single time and I never tire of. So they won me back.
R.E.M.
I’ll post my thoughts on this, and the set list, in another post. But for now, my favorite moment:
Jeff Koons had his first exhibit at the MCA Chicago 20 years ago. The MCA has assembled a special retrospective including pieces from the artist’s own collection in honor of his career. This is the only place where these works will be shown together.
Koons’ pieces famously marry high and low art, to the extent where many have challenged its status as “art” at all. Here in this exhibit are his “Equilibrium” trio of works depicting suspended basketballs in fish tanks and his blow up pool toy animals climbing fences, impaled by a ladder or suspended from chain attached to the ceiling. The blow up toy motif is extended into giant stainless steel sculptures mimicking an elephant, a rabbit and a balloon dog.
According to the MCA guide:
Koons advocates art as the most effective vehicle to transform oneself and the world. Through his use of the ordinary, commercial, and kitsch objects, Koons hopes to free the viewer from traditional diversions of what constitutes art, taste, and logic to seduce the viewer into a suspension of self-judgement and conceive of a world where everything has the capacity to become a beautiful work of art. Through art, Koons aims to empower people to accept themselves, the world, and others in it.
The MCA guide, which is available here, provides terrific insight into the artist’s intentions. I know that it may seem easy to read the guide and think that the author is projecting meaning onto an object that appears to be nothing more than a statue of a poodle, for example. It’s important to remember that any work of art, whether it’s sculpture, music, fiction, film or even great photography, is a creation of the artist. The choices the artist makes (size, words, media, material, framing, inclusion of external elements) are entirely those of the artist, and although a choice may not always be conscious, it reflects that person’s view of what this piece should present to viewers (or listeners). Creating something out of nothing requires the viewer to ask questions about why certain choices were made.
Koons was married to Italian porn star and parliament member Ilona “Cicciolina” Staller and the retrospective includes several of his pieces featuring the couple photographed in explicit sexual situations. I can tell you I was not prepared when I turned the corner and ran smack dab into “Ilona’s Asshole”, the subject of which should be self explanatory, except that it also prominently features a part of Mr. Koons’ anatomy.
Remember, these are photographs, not paintings — there’s nothing impressionistic about these works — clearly a deliberate choice of the artist. Koons’ statement on sexuality and our discomfort and simultaneous titillation upon viewing these photographs, especially in large scale in a public setting, speaks to the universal human reactions that art can evoke.
Best aspect of new shit: The best art is thought provoking and incites an emotional reaction in the viewer. Other art is just there to provoke a reaction. I believe there is a big difference between the two approaches and this exhibit is a fine example of the former.
Worst aspect of new shit: My camera battery died before I could get a shot of “Hanging Heart”, a gorgeous blue stainless sculpture that graces the light drenched space between the two main galleries.
New Shit Rating: Since this isn’t really a repeatable event, I’ll change the rating to say I recommend that you all visit.
This is my kind of cooking. But before I go into detail, I feel that full disclosure is necessary.
I love Trader Joe’s. If he was a real man I’d ask him to adopt me like a Malawian child. If it was a cult I’d shave my head, don robes and plant my lips on the Kool-Aid pitcher. If it was on Facebook I’d Superpoke it — hourly.
Here was the process for my first experience with this meal:
1) Heat oil in pan
2) Open package
3) Cook on one side for 1-1/2 minutes
4) Flip over
5) Cook on other side for 1-1/2 minutes
6) Put on plate
7) Devour
Best aspect of new shit: How much easier could this be? The fish was a good consistency and the seasoning was slightly savory.
Worst aspect of new shit: A tad too salty
New Shit Rating: Repeatable — most evenings, convenience > taste. I may try it on the George next time, just for variety.
June 3, 2008
Ok so this is really stretching the different shit concept a bit.
Yes I’ve seen DCFC before.
Yes it was in a Chicago public park.
But last time it was at Grant Park during Lollapalooza 2006. This time it was at the Frank Gehry designed bandshell in King Daley’s Mayor Daley’s pride and joy: Millennium Park. Set right in front of one of the best corners of Chicago’s skyline, the structure’s liquid metal curves contrast nicely with the stone towers that loom above it.
The sound quality at the bandshell is quite good, but in my opinion the vocals weren’t quite turned up enough. Ben Gibbard’s sweetly savage lyrics are what I like best about DCFC. Unfortunately the only time they came across in this performance was during a gorgeous solo encore of “I Will Follow You Into the Dark”.
Best aspect of new shit: Once again, you can’t go wrong with listening to live music outside on a gorgeous day with beers and friends — even if the day isn’t exactly gorgeous.
Worst aspect of new shit: When in Sam Hill am I going to be able to put away the cold weather clothes?
New Shit Rating: Repeatable - and especially for the Pritzker Pavilion. Perhaps for Andrew Bird’s free show at the end of the summer?
