Category: The Arts

I’m not a huge fan of performance art but I love this piece of meta performance art.  Damien Hirst (whose work features chopped up animals and maggots and flies) recently unveiled the most expensive piece of contemporary art ever, a skull encrusted with millions of dollars worth of diamonds.  In response, "Laura" created a similar skull using Swarovski crystals and in the middle of the night she dumped it outside the gallery along with a pile of trash.  Priceless.

There’s a malady sweeping the nation that’s highly contagious to concertgoers.  It doesn’t have a name yet, so let’s call it Excessive Ovation Syndrome (EOS for short).  Those suffering from it stand and applaud at performances that aren’t good enough to deserve such enthusiasm. In extreme cases, they shout “Bravo!” during events that are best forgotten.

The more people pay for tickets, the more susceptible they are to EOS, because ovations confirm that their money was well spent.  Even those in bargain seats can easily catch it from their neighbors.  The urge to stand and cheer may be irresistible if everyone around you is doing it.

Here is more.  Is the fear that too much costly clapping goes on?  I believe most of these people enjoy the pretentious show of approval.  A more plausible worry is that audiences, if they approve all performances, can no longer signal quality to performers.  Given that other and arguably more accurate signals remain in place (critics, bloggers, the conductor, etc.), I am not sure we should be concerned by greater noise in the audience signal.  After all, the very complaint suggests that the audience cannot be trusted to judge quality, so why not neutralize them?

And if the excess clapping gives the less musically sophisticated attendees a better memory of the show, that is arguably a benefit.  Are we not, after all, committed egalitarians?

Against my better aesthetic judgment, I am on the verge of endorsing Excessive Ovation Syndrome.

These do not spring easily to mind:

1. Public building: The new Denver art museum, by Daniel Liebeskind.

2. Fiction: I reject Kesey and Michener, so I’ll go with Connie Willis’s Doomsday Book, an excellent piece of fantasy/science fiction.

4. Movie, set in: The Shining comes to mind. 

5. Music: I can’t pick John Denver and while I enjoy big band, I think that Glenn Miller, once you get past a few tunes, is overrated.  Jello Biafra, of The Dead Kennedys, is an obvious pick here; don’t forget "Holiday in Cambodia." 

6. Wild card: Ted Mack, remember his amateur hour?  It was a favorite show of my father’s.

The bottom line: Eh.  Toss in Lon Chaney and Douglas Fairbanks and it is still Eh.  I hope the green chili is good.

You’ll find it here.  They love Roberto Bolaño, as should all literate people.  My favorite post (disclaimer: it cites me) is here, on the relative pricing of different artworks.

The guy in jeans at the Sotheby’s auction is more likely to buy a $40 million Picasso than the guy in the suit, who is probably just an art dealer.

Here is the link, thanks to Trieu Truong.  Here is my previous post on counter-signaling.

No, I am not there, but I am catching up on requests from loyal MR readers.  Today I will set this one right:

Pianist: Oscar Peterson.  His best albums are The Trio and the set with Joe Pass at Salle Pleyel.  For all his talent, many of his CDs are quite boring.  On another front, I usually don’t like Marc-Andre Hamelin.  Despite the critical raves, I find him icy cold, enjoying only his rendition of the Scriabin sonatas.

William Shatner performance: I will opt for "City on the Edge of Forever."  (NB: I haven’t yet seen "Incubus".)

Actress:  Genevieve Bujold, most of all in Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers.

Popular music: I don’t much like Leonard Cohen or Celine Dion.  Rufus Wainwright is OK.  Arcade Fire is OK.  Help me out here people…

Author: Saul Bellow wins hands down, though he is not a personal favorite.

Philosopher: Charles Taylor.  There is also G.A Cohen, though I have to put him on my "totally wrong about everything" list.

Linguist: Steven Pinker.

Movie Director: Mack Sennett, and yes I used Google/Wikipedia to find that one.

Painter: This guy would be the mainstream pick.  I’m holding out for one of the strange naives, but the name escapes me.

The bottom line: I must be linguistically limited, because most of these names come from English-speaking families.  It is also striking how many thorough web sites exist, dedicated to nothing but listing the many famous and meritorious Quebecois.

Hieronymous Bosch action figures (scroll down to see them), via Brad DeLong.

The Sunday NY Times has a big article on Sigmar Polke, who is being featured at the upcoming Venice Biennale art show. His new work is intriguing and uses exotic materials.

However, I’ve always thought that Polke comes out second best when compared (as he often is) to Gerhard Richter, who is, to my mind, the greatest living painter.

Anselm Keifer and Joseph Beuys are the quintessential artists who reflect the aftereffects of the war on modern Germany. Keifer’s work is so elegiac and decayed and somber and sad, while Bueys (to me) is about the frailty and ridiculousness of the human body.

One thing I really miss about living in the DC area is getting to see works like this Kiefer (here’s another) and these Richters (#1, #2) for FREE.

1. Film: The 1989 Pathfinder is one of the best "unknown" movies, why is there no DVD reissue? 

2. Classical music.  My favorite Grieg recording is Lyric Pieces, by Emil Gilels.  Mostly the composer bores me, but if you get the piano concerto try Dinu Lipatti.  Peer Gynt reminds me of a bad coffee commercial, which in fact it once was.  For contemporary composers, Arne Nordheim is consistently interesting.

3. Jazz: Norway is now a world leader in this field; start with the Tord Gustavsen Trio, Changing Places.  Here are more resources.  That said, Jan Garbarek has never thrilled me.

4. Playwright: Almost everything by Ibsen is superb, and yes it does repay a rereading.  Too many smart people had A Doll’s House forced on them in high school and then take him for granted.  His fantasy piece Peer Gynt is one of the most imaginative literary creations, period.

5. Novels: Knut Hamsun was a fascist, still Hunger holds the reader’s attention.  My favorite is Sigrid Undset; Kristin Lavransdatter is long but a must-read.  Ole Rolvaag’s tales of the American frontier often have interesting property rights themes.

6. Pianist: Leif Ove Andsnes is remarkably consistent and tasteful.  HÃ¥kon Austbø is a strong and underrated runner-up, I love his Messiaen on Naxos.

7. Soprano: Kirsten Flagstad, anything by Wagner.

8. Economist: You’ve got Trygve Haavelmo and Finn Kydland, both Nobel Laureates, plus Ragnar Frisch; the overall slant here is technical.  I also enjoy the social science books of Jon Elster, a political scientist by training but a polymath by nature.

The bottom line: In almost every category the top offerings of Norway are underrated or at least underexplored.

1. Movie: A strong category for this country.  Babette’s Feast used to be one of my favorite movies, though it now strikes me as sentimental.  I much prefer The Celebration, or the recent After the Wedding.  The Best Intentions, with a Bergman screenplay, is directed by Dane Billie August.  Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc is technically a French movie but the director is Danish, in any case it is one of cinema’s greatest achievements.  Ordet has splendid shots but I can’t bear the ending.  I don’t rate Lars von Trier with these other creators though I did like his recent The Boss of it All, a study in the social construction of leadership.

2. Short story: "The Caryatids, An Unfinished Tale," by Karen Blixen [Isak Dinesen], in Last Tales.  This one shows the influence of the now-sadly-taken-for-granted Hans Christian Andersen; read it.

3. Novel: Smilla’s Sense of Snow, by Peter Hoeg; lovely and mysterious, yet driven by plot.  His History of Danish Dreams I find too baroque.

4. Composer: Poul Ruders, one of the most listenable contemporary composers, writes compelling melodies and offers a broad palate of sound colors.  I most prefer his Variations on a Theme by Paganini, Concerto in Pieces, the guitar music, Tundra, and Gong.  His major influences are Brahms, Berg, Sibelius, and Hindemith.  I’ll buy anything by him, though I’ve never much enjoyed his operas.

5. Popular music: Help!

6. Philosopher: Kierkegaard’s Either/Or is the place to start, and don’t skip over "Diary of a Seducer" or the discussion of Don Giovanni.  There are few philosophers who think more like an economist, or who use more metaphors from economic life.

7. Painting: Danish Impressionism is one of the most underrated fields in art, noting that the subtle textures and colors do not reproduce well on the web.  Try this picture.  Here is a nice landscape, here is a nice door.  This one is lots of fun, too.

1. Music: Opt for Taarab, the Arabic style from Zanzibar, start here.  Bongo Flava: Swahili Rap from Tanzania is above average for its genre.  By the way, the Rough Guide Tanzania music CD is a bit lame.

Then there is Freddie Mercury, who was born in Zanzibar.  Right now I’d rate "Killer Queen" and the "Bicycle/Fat Bottomed Girls" medley as my favorites.  The Manichean element (Mercury’s parents were Parsees) is evident in "Bohemian Rhapsody," among other songs.  Queen remains underrated, and I never tire of listening.

2. Cinema: This movie comes recommended, I’ve never seen it.  Darwin’s Nightmare is set in the country, I haven’t seen it.

3. Film, set in: Hatari!, with John Wayne, isn’t bad in a jokey sort of way.  It is, after all, directed by Howard Hawks.  Hatari, by the way, means "danger" in Swahili.

4. Sculpture: Makonde is the dominant style.  Try this older one.

5. Painting: The best-known naive style is Tingatinga.  Here is one of the better pieces.  It doesn’t compare to Haiti.  Here is more.  The leading Tanzanian naive painter was — can you guess? — E.S. Tingatinga.

6. Fiction?  Ask me again once I’ve learned Swahili.

The bottom line: Freddy is long gone, and they play Congolese "lingala" music in the clubs, so it’s culturally a little dull here; in any case I am working on a micro-credit project with Karol Boudreaux.

1. Classical music recording is bigger than ever

2. Profile of Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño

3. Markets in everything: durians that don’t smell

4. Virginia Postrel’s next book, on glamour, an outline

5. It seems that fascist Lawrence Dennis was actually black

6. History’s 100 most influential people, as selected by the Japanese

1. Painting.  This is, of course, a bit ridiculous.  Three is gobs and gobs and gobs, but I have to opt for late Titian as the peak of painting, ever, by anyone.  Except for Velazquez.  Here is one image, here is another.  Moving past the Renaissance, Tiepolo remains underrated; visit Wurzburg for one of Europe’s best artistic thrills.  Rosalbe Carriera portraits are underrated.

2. Work of fiction, set in: Death in Venice, Thomas Mann, is the obvious pick, here is a long list of fiction set in Venice.  There is Calvino’s Invisible Cities, and Henry James, The Aspern Papers, I’ll give the nod to the latter, unless we can count bits of Proust.

3. Movie, set in: Scroll down for a list.  I love the best parts of From Russia with Love, and Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (really), but the clear winner is Orson Welles’s Othello.

4. Play, set in: Duh.

5. Techno group, named after: Venetian Snares, juicy stuff, high information content.  Not for the faint hearted.

6. Music: Monteverdi will get his own post, Vivaldi bores me, Gabrieli is OK.  Luigi Nono comes next, I like the Pollini recording of his work for piano and tape.  There is Bruno Maderna as well.

7. Theatre: Carlo Goldoni, I once saw The Stag Hunt and loved it.

8. Writer: Casanova is fun to browse, more conceptual than you might think.

9. Librettist: Lorenzo da Ponte, who wrote Don Giovanni for Mozart.

The bottom line: Making this list was more interesting than I had expected.  I have never felt "near" to Venice, but perhaps this trip — for a UNESCO conference — will change that.

Sitting here in the Frankfurt Airport, on my way, I’m not going to rehash the Ghiberti-Brunelleschi feud, so let’s stick to the twentieth century:

Painter/artist: There is Morandi, Lucio Fontana, and the Arte Povera group, all of whom remain underrated.  The Futurists are dated, but early de Chirico hits the spot.  This category is strong.  For sculptors throw in Manzu, Burri, Merz, Marini, and many others.

Composer: Puccini I’ve never loved.  Scelsi is an acquired taste but for me his drones hold up.  Busoni bores me once you get past the Bach transcriptions.  I’ll opt for Berio, most of all the songs, Sinfonia, and Points on the Curve to Find, all excellent and surprisingly accessible.

Pianist: Maurizio Pollini started steely and evolved to poetic; try his Stravinsky/Webern disc, and his Chopin Nocturnes.  Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli is pure rippling glitter, try his Ravel/Rachmaninoff disc.

Conductor: Only rarely is Toscanini’s stuttering whiplash listenable, try his Tchaikovsky #1 with his then son-in-law Vladimir Horowitz.  Abbado wins this category, his Beethoven symphonies are the best available.

Maria Callas performance: I am torn between Norma and Barber of Seville, the latter with Tito Gobbi, another notable Italian.

Author: Baron in the Trees and Invisible Cities are my favorite Italo Calvino.  When I courted Natasha, she was impressed that I had a working knowledge of The Cloven Viscount at my disposal.  Alberto Moravia has compelling psychological portraits, Eco’s The Name of the Rose is fun.

Playwright: Pirandello and Dario Fo.

Film: Most of neo-realist cinema bores me.  I do admire Umberto D, most of Pasolini (Arabian Nights as my favorite), and I’ll pick Visconti’s The Leopard as my favorite, with Sergio Leone’s Spaghetti Westerns a close second.  Satyricon is my favorite Fellini, but otherwise he leaves me cold.  Sadly Italian cinema has been getting worse for thirty years.

The bottom line: The twentieth century brought a remarkable cultural renaissance in Italy.  This is not as widely recognized as it ought to be.