Unzipped

It's hot, I'm crabby and sick of soccer. Unzipped, a film chronicling the creation of Isaac Mizrahi's 1994 collection is just what the doctor ordered. I'm transported by the backstage footage of my favorite model of all time, Linda Evangelista, being a sassy pants beeotch, and Naomi Campbell in all her feline ferocity, Carla Bruni (!) and Cindy Crawford, that goddess.

How did I miss this jackpot movie when it first came out? Oh right, I was 11.

Jezebel of Jazz

The other night I caught the end of a documentary called " Anita O'Day- The Life of a Jazz Singer," and was intrigued by the gritty story of this incredibly underrated singer. The next day I ran over the Library for the Performing Arts and picked up High Times, Hard Times, O'day's biography.

Damn, this lady lived a hard life. Unstable family, money troubles, rape, abusive relationships, prison, alcoholism and a 15 year long addiction to heroin didn't stop her from touring and recording with some of the most popular big bands and innovative trios of her time and developing her singular vocal style. Her biography is written in "hip" jazz prose (hep and cat, etc) and is unflinchingly honest. Billie Holiday ignored her, Benny Goodman was threatened by her, Frank Sinatra applauded her and Charlie Parker admired her.

Addicts are unreliable narrators, but in this case, I didn't really care about which anecdotes were true and which were exaggerated or fabricated. I am in awe of Anita O'Day's life and will appreciate her music all the more knowing the blood, sweat and tears shed to refine her craft.

Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs

I just finished Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs and man, did it tick me off. The author reminded me of a certain type of dude: know-it-all, horn rimmed glasses wearing, 30ish, sarcastic, obscure-band loving, elitist a-hole. The kind of guy I would inevitably pick up in a gross dive bar in Allston, MA 5 years ago who would dazzle my young naive self with his faux philosophical view of life and vast knowledge of the contents of the bar's jukebox. Ew!

Thankfully, my taste in men has evolved. I am no longer interested in smug smartie pants men and I find their limited and dismissive points of view extremely irritating.  Thus, Klosterman's collection of essays examining pop culture left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Granted, some of his anecdotes seemed dated as they dealt with "Gen-X" type content (the social ramifications of The Real World, the political value of the Dixie Chicks), but moreover, his assertions came off as sexist, racist  and obnoxious. I can't wait to rip into him at our monthly book club session next week.

Tintinnabular

I promise this blog isn't turning into "I <3 violin music 4 eva" dot com, but I really love this song, Spiegel im Spiegel (Mirror in the Mirror) by Estonian composor Arvo Part. Part pioneered this stlye of composition, called "Tintinnabular," which is apparently inspired by chant. Great word!

The Lark Ascending

I heard Ralph Vaughn William's The Lark Ascending this morning while I was drinking my coffee. It was so gorgeous that I had to look it up and listen to a couple of other versions, including Janine Jansen's (above). The story of the music is pretty funny, too. Apparently the composer was watching military ships cross the English Channel while composing the first drafts of the music during the beginning of WWI.  A young kid saw him and thought he was a spy writing secret code. He called the cops and Williams was arrested! Oops.

GAGA

Nope, not that Gaga.

Aaron played with FM Blanket this weekend at The Gaga Arts Festival in Garnerville, NY. The venue was a super cool converted textile mill that is now home to artists studios. After the boys' set, we browsed through the open air galleries, ate Jamaican food and hung out at the Creekside Sculpture Garden.  Not a bad way to spend a gorgeous Saturday afternoon!

Sita Sings the Blues

Saturday Night Live was a snoozefest last night, so while surfing for other options,
I came across Sita Sings the Blues on Thirteen.

The film is a retelling of a Hindu folk tale by an artist mourning her failed marriage.

It was adorable and touching, not to mention a nice surprise on an otherwise boring Saturday night.