July Favorites

Mutineers, David Gray: It took about 45 seconds of listening to a snippet of the first track, "Back in the World," for me to decide I desperately needed this album in my life. I needed it so desperately before I went away for the long 4th of July weekend that I paid for 2-day shipping from Amazon (I'm trying not to order as many books from them, but they are still my go-to for CDs when Newbury Comics isn't feasible). It was completely worth it. Somehow I have gone from listening to Chromeo's White Women on repeat to listening to David Gray on repeat. Mutineers is such a fantastic album for summer nights; it's full of lovely, lush orchestrations and has top-notch production values. Plus, it holds together as an album extremely well. A few years ago, I won a free ticket to a David Gray show, but despite the fact that he put on an excellent show, I've never been able to get into him much deeper than "Babylon." I am not sure I'm going to try to get into his full catalog again, but I am so taken with Mutineers that I did actually purchase a ticket to see him live this summer, and I don't foresee getting tired of this album any time soon, especially the gorgeous "Snow in Vegas" and "Birds of the High Arctic," the latter of which is especially haunting.

Begin Again: No, this is not a perfect movie or even a great movie, but it's cute and fun and has good music, and sometimes that's all I need. Keira Knightley is surprisingly tolerable; Mark Ruffalo is scrappily charming; James Corden is a pleasure to watch; and Adam Levine is delightful, even while playing a douche. The non-linear story telling added some depth and interest to the story, though if you stop to think too much about it there are definitely some holes here and there. However, Begin Again is a great counter to all the robots and stuff blowing up that have been filling the cineplexes this summer.

"A Higher Place," Adam Levine: As mentioned above, I enjoyed Adam Levine in Begin Again. I've been a Maroon 5 fan from the beginning and have always loved Adam's voice, though I go back and forth about whether he deserves that People's Sexiest Man status. No matter how I happen to be feeling about his looks at any given moment,  I really love all three songs Levine sings on the Begin Again soundtrack. However, if I had to pick just one, I would go with "A Higher Place" because it's sunny and light and bouncy, and those backing vocals echoing on the chorus get me every time.

Archipelago: The only reason I knew about this film was that Tom Hiddleston mentioned it on his twitter. It turns out it was released in 2010, but it was playing up at Lincoln Center in conjunction with the release of Joanna Hogg's latest film, and then it moved down to one of the tiny Art Houses in the Village, which was of course when I decided I needed to see it. The only show-time that fit into my schedule was 9:40pm, so I had to make a late night of it, but it turned out to be well worth going to bed way too late, which is what I do pretty much every night anyway. Archipelago is a very spare film with wind and birdsong as the only soundtrack and minimal, naturalistic dialog.  The film does drag a little bit in the middle, but in the end its profundity and quiet beauty got to me (it has an almost meditative quality) and have stuck with me. If nothing else, Archipelago showcases the desolate beauty of the Isles of Scilly. (I had to look the filming location up when I got out of the theatre, but while watching the film I guessed that it had to be set somewhere near Penzance. In related news: I have spent too much time in England.) During the slow middle bit, I was still glad to be watching the film because it opened up this breathtaking new landscape to me. When I left the cinema, I wasn't quite sure how I felt about the whole thing, but by the time I got home, I knew it was a winner. The mood, the colors, the scenery, the performances all feed into one another, creating a captivating cinematic experience.

The Longest Ride, Nicholas Sparks: This book made me roll my eyes less than Nicholas Sparks books usually do. It also made me cry a couple of times, just in case you were wondering if Sparks is still a master of cheaply manipulating emotions. Of course The Longest Ride is a total grown-up fairy tail of a book, but I'm definitely one of those girls who wouldn't mind being romanced by a cowboy every now and then (especially a cowboy who is going to be played by Scott Eastwood in the film version). On a more serious note, one of the two main couples in the book is Jewish. This couple had to cope with WWII from the States, and Sparks does a nice job of capturing a Jewish-American perspective on that war and the Holocaust. I am all for anything that reminds people of the horrific toll the Holocaust took; I think it's important that it's not forgotten or trivialized, and Sparks brings emotion and heft to the topic, even while integrating it into a romance novel. It helps that Sparks refrains from indulging in his usual penchant for melodrama, and that both couples in the book have relationships that are easy to believe (or at least buy into, in the case of the younger couple) and take as seriously as the characters themselves do.

San Antonio: I was only in San Antonio for 33 hours, and while the majority of that time was spent sleeping, being at a wedding reception, and getting to the airport early, I did get a solid five hours or so to explore the city. As a bonus, the high temperature that day was only 94, which I consider cool for Texas in July. It turns out that five hours is the perfect amount of time to see the Alamo, buy a novel about the Texas Revolution and have it signed by the author (who had a little signing table set up in the Alamo gift shop -- clearly a book is much better than a tee shirt for remembering the Alamo), eat real Tex-Mex food (!!!!), keep cool by strolling along the River Walk, and check out HemisFair Park. About that Tex-Mex: I highly recommend Iron Cactus on the River Walk. Their stacked pork enchiladas, fire roasted salsa, light & non-greasy tortilla chips, pinto beans, and El Perfecto margarita made for a meal that I'm still thinking about several weeks later. Plus, the staff was super friendly. It was a very full afternoon, but I still only saw a small portion of the city. I can't wait to go back to San Antonio sometime (hopefully soon-ish) to do the San Antonio Missions historical park trail and eat more great Tex-Mex.

Queens of the Stone Age at The Capitol Theatre: After declaring ...Like Clockwork to be one of my favorite things back in February, I was thrilled when an opportunity to see QOTSA live came up, even if it did require me to go all the way to Port Chester. The first thing that impressed me at the show was that all the tees at their merch booth were extremely well designed. I couldn't even pick just one shirt and ended up going for two, though I could have easily gone for two more and a hoodie to boot. Because I am old, I opted for a seat up in the Balcony rather than contending with GA standing room down on the main floor. This decision resulted in my wishing I was closer to the stage all night, but on the other hand I was very glad to have a seat and be out of the fray. QOTSA put on an outstanding rock show that was immensely watchable and listenable. The sound system at The Cap is awesome: the music was sufficiently loud and the bass sufficiently vibrated through every fiber of my being, yes somehow my ears weren't even ringing at the end of the night! The highlight of the evening was "I Sat By the Ocean," which is my favorite track on the new album and which was absolutely fantastic live. I would go see QOTSA live again in a heartbeat, though I do hope their next tour brings them a bit closer to the city.

E. Scott Originals Anchor Necklace: While Edgartown isn't quite the retail powerhouse it used to be, there are still a few stores that manage to surprise me, delight me, and compel me to part with some of my money. PikNik is one of those stores, though usually I don't have enough money to part with to buy the things I covet there. However, this summer I seem to have lucked out by coming across this chunky anchor necklace. Sucker for nautical motifs that I am, this piece immediately caught my eye in the jewelry case. When I tried it on, I knew it was meant to be; I've worn it almost every day since I bought it. The detail of the rope loop is exquisite, and the whole necklace strikes the perfect balance between masculine and feminine, while also being the perfect length and heft to layer with other pieces.

Night Game, Fenway, Paul Maloney: It took me about 24 hours to decide to buy this painting. I am the Jack Bauer of art buying, except those 24 hours weren't all that exciting, and nobody got beat up or shot in the thigh (can you tell I'm catching up on 24: Live Another Day this month?). Anyway, I always have to stop into Portobello Road, a little shop down on Dock Street in Edgartown, at least once every summer. The shop carries coffee table books, new and old high-brow trendy novels, journals, stationary, and other random house-ware and lifestyle items (I could happily buy about 75% of the store's contents given the proper funds and infinite time to read all the books). It also carries art, because the guy who owns the store used to have a gallery next door (I've bought two paintings from that gallery in years past -- the guy has a good eye). Two summers ago, PikNik had a truly wonderful series of Fenway paintings, but they were large oils, so all of them were way beyond my budget. Ever since, I've sort of been wanting a Fenway painting, and when I saw this one, I was rather drawn to it, but the price was still a bit steep and I needed to think about it. I saw the painting on Saturday, and by Sunday afternoon I had thought about it enough to know that I would be devastated if the painting wasn't still there when I came back to the island two weeks later. Now that it's in my possession, I have no doubt that I made the right decision.

Night Game, Fenway caught my eye because it is boldly abstract and yet also subtle. First I noticed the purple and orange rectangles, and then my eye moved to the little Citgo sign, and everything clicked. If it wasn't for that little Citgo sign to ground the viewer by providing a distinct sense of place, the painting would completely lack coherency. I love that one little red triangle in a white square can turn purple and orange rectangles into gleaming banks of lights and a jagged green block into the Green Monster. Yet, without those specific elements surrounding it, that vintage beacon wouldn't have the same meaning, wouldn't evoke the same nostalgia and pride, wouldn't stand-in as shorthand for a Boston that doesn't quite exist anymore. Tellingly, when I noticed the Citgo sign and recognition dawned, the next thing that came to mind was this verse from "I Want My City Back" by The Mighty Mighty Bosstones: "I looked up to the Citgo Sign / You used to be a friend of mine / Do you agree with me at one time / This was once such sacred ground."

Jeff Koons Retrospective, Whitney Museum:I became aware of Jeff Koons back in 2001 when he was featured in a GQ fashion spread with other practitioners of Pop Art. The piece that was featured was one of his collage-based paintings, which struck a chord with me since I was also doing collage-based artwork at the time (versus the straight up collages I do now). I have seen several of Koons' sculptures over the years (Diamond (Pink) at the V&A, Tulips at Wynn Las Vegas, a few others here and there around New York), but never got a chance to see his work in other mediums. Naturally, I was very excited when the Whitney announced this Koons retrospective, since he is one of my Top 5 artists, right up there with Vermeer, David Hockney, Magritte, and Hopper.

After seeing the retrospective, I'm a bit torn about Koons' work. It's almost as if seeing so much of it at once strips it of the already tenuous meanings it has.  I wasn't very impressed by his early work (not that much of a surprise, since he was heavily influenced by Duchamp, for whom I have little use), but his work from the late-80s through to current is right up my alley, with all the pop culture and advertising references, and all the irresistible shiny stuff going on. The main room on the 4th floor with Cat on a Clothesline, Balloon Dog (Yellow), Play-Doh, and Hanging Heart (Violet/Gold), is kind of my happy place. The whole room oozes joy and lightness (fitting, since this is the Celebration series).

I also really liked the room on the third floor that held works from the Easyfun-Ethereal series. These are the collage based paintings that remind me so much of my own work (both what I did throughout school and my current projects - Koons and I both have a thing for lips and eyes!). My favorites here were Lips and Bagel.

Meanwhile, the Made in Heaven series (with it's soft- and hard-core pornographic images) makes the viewer question what art is. The sexually explicit images do this the most, but the whole series comes across as self-indulgent and stunt-like.  However, this series is thought-provoking on multiple levels; it has artistic value simply because it raises so many questions about art, culture, and sexuality.  On their own, the pieces in the Made in Heaven series could easily be dismissed, but as part of Koons' greater body of work, they can indeed be seen and evaluated as art.

The most striking things about Koons' sculptural work and collage-based paintings are his command of a broad range of mediums and his demand for precision and perfection. Just as one stands in front of David in Florence and wonders at how Michelangelo was able to free such a form from a block of marble, one standing before Balloon Dog (Yellow) or Balloon Venus (Orange) or any of the inflatable simulacra of the Popeye series must wonder at how Koons is able to make metal appear as light as air. A fellow museum patron, while viewing the Lobster and Seal Walrus pieces in the Popeye series, remarked to his companion that he really wanted to touch these works, to tap his fingers against them to assure himself that in fact they are made of aluminum, and not plastic or rubber that would easily yield to even the lightest touch as the mind's eye wants to assume out of familiarity. Koons has achieved the ultimate tromp l'eoile effect: making aluminum appear to be pool toys filled with air, a pile of malleable clay, and huge shiny balloons that look as if they could easily move with a gentle push and a breeze, as well as fashioning bronze into what appears to be an inflatable toy version of the Hulk.  The science and care that has gone into producing these deceptively simple works are the elements in which Koons' true artistry lives.

The fact that Koons' art is so provocative in so many ways is a testament to its power and its value. I may not like or be intrigued by all of Koons' work (the Banality series didn't do much for me - with the exception of Michael Jackson and Bubbles, which is a truly arresting piece - nor did the Statuary or Gazing Ball series), but viewing the retrospective definitely stimulated my mind in extraordinary and invigorating ways.