I have no idea what Parker Posey is really like, although I kind of do. In customs, and on the sidewalk outside of the airport, and in a van, and in a car, and, at a very particular sort of party, maybe, sure.
Interestingly, the focus was not only on the wrestlers, but on the larger wrestling world, one of spectacle and business. “C’est ‘meta’!” my friend whispered to me. “Not unlike the art world,” I remember thinking.
Johnson’s “inglorious detour” saw the brilliant, wealthy young designer and critic make a visit to Germany, where he took a shine to those beautiful blonde boys marching neatly through Nuremberg.
Rachel Harrison is an American artist who, when I met her at this party of which I have a perfect memory, absent any spatiotemporal coordinates, said, “Do I know you?”
At times the steam was all you could see or smell or touch. It was all-encompassing, and then suddenly it would dance off, taking the expanding image with it.
The layered waves of melody, emanating from one section, then another, suggest a spatial arrangement like a flock of birds taking wing, then careening this way and that, and finally disappearing into thin air.
Pictures, books of pictures, collections of pictures, hard drives and smart phones full of pictures: these are inescapable. There is no more capacious storehouse of memories, including memory itself.
As Tbilisi sucks populations away from the far corners of the country with the allure of education and jobs, Fest I Nova becomes an occasion to revisit a peasant heritage from a post-Soviet present.
The animation begins in a plainly inauspicious place—with a tiresome unspooling of clichés that supposedly represent Miami. From Gloria Estefan to the Bad Boys movies to Dexter, it is all soundtracked by—what else?—Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight.”
Any art involves philosophical, social, and political attitudes. It’s hard to generalize about all art and the United States but essentially the best art is opposed to the main kinds of power and to many of the prevailing attitudes.