THANKS GIVING 2018

I only have memories left of childhood Thanksgiving. Earlier family dinners celebrated in our Washington Heights apartment until “eminent domain” - George Washington Bridge needed a second level which ran right through our living room - drove us to move to an alien borough - the Bronx. No matter, the holiday air was filled with conflicting essences - spicy, sweet and overwhelmingly pungent once the trussed and bound turkey, glaringly white and naked was deposited into the oven - the aroma of its slow browning flesh filled the dining area, and eventually made its way into our bedroom, both enticing and to my vividly fearful imagination reminiscent of the “ovens” which imprinted their horrific acts on my family to a past that went back even further; but to this sensitive young girl, snippets of grief and shame seemed to flood the room with long gone strands of whispered conversations never forgotten.

My maiden Aunt - Tante Mushie - ( so named by my sister and me because she would mush up all her food) was invited regularly. I liked her and when she wasn't suffering cyclical depressions, she was intelligent and curious about culture, recommending movies and books to us. My mother Else felt comfortable with her and anointed Mushie the “heir apparent to the Wifedom if she should predecease my father so the “children” would be taken care of. My mother liked tight control over everything - particularly the future - so that was all set.

My beloved grandmother, Omi - the strongest maternal presence in my life, lived with us and on major Holidays, she usually sat at one end of the table opposite my quiet, gentle father who sensed early on that it was best to keep his mouth shut when sparks flew among the 4 women in the household. Omi was once the Queen of her domain, but after her life was upended by the Holocaust, she fled Germany and came to live with my parents in a small apartment on 180th Street, her dominant role was diminished, though her own sense of rightful authority never wavered. Omi was an embracing woman, a comforting presence in my life though she made life miserable for my mother demanding to be included in all events in my parents’ lives and constantly “beleidigt " (offended) so guilt became a permeable presence and has filtered down to me to this day.

The meals were both delicious and raucous. I, who was admittedly the brat in the family, claimed that the sweet potatoes with white marshmallows like maggots floating on the top of an orange mix should be discontinued as it did not seem to have many “takers.” I jumped on the drumsticks and since I love to eat bones I was content. The wonderful salads and puddings were a rare treat and my very favorite hot apple pie made with cream cheese was served as one of the desserts along with a cherry pie which was literally swimmingly good. I declared each year that we should pass out cups to drink the pie as it was so liquid and a fork was useless. My humorless mother did not crack a smile.

I really miss those bygone dinners and most of all those who sat at the table. Recall brings tears to my eyes; with age, the awareness of the past forever gone is something I am coming to accept. Tonight my sister and her husband are taking the family out to a restaurant for a Thanksgiving buffet. I never cook and do not have an oven - a microwave does the trick in my home - so do not host dinners, but it will be fun ( if I behave) but can NEVER replace the drama and deliciously uneasy tenderness of those early holiday celebrations.

HBO'S THE DEUCE 10/21/18

James Franco and James Franco

Maggie Gyllenhaal is carrying THE DEUCE on her shoulders. She is terrific in this HBO series which traces the evolution of pornography and prostitution in NYC focusing on 42nd St. and Times Square in the 1970's and '80's. The creators David Simon and George Pelecanos methodically document the early days of the king pimp's domination and exploitation of young women. We see the close connections to the Mob as well as the police - both greedily in on the sex-trade action receiving weekly payoffs in return for "protection".  This well-oiled system would not be allowed to operate if the powers that be were not profiting on a grand scale. 

Maggie Gyllenhaal

As society gradually changes via new technology, civil rights, and feminism - the effects are reflected in the industry and it is forced to change or die.  Pornographic films become a big business and Gyllenhaal as Candy becomes an entrepreneur and gains confidence in her own skills as a movie director - pitting her own vision against the traditional cheap peephole fuck films. 

Maggie Gyllenhaal

The ambiance in THE DEUCE is so authentic that the sticky, smutty rooms, filled with desperate male customers looking for a quick release of their frustrations/ fantasies, wash over me, and I glance around for anti-bacterial soap to rid myself of their sweaty desire. The "hookers" are  often innocent women from every social class coming to NYC to seek "fame and fortune," but unlike the cleaned-up Hollywood movies, Simons and Pelecanos show us the reality of the heartbreaking agony of drugs and poverty which they often fall into and the  often cruel and ruthless men who "take care of them."

James Franco does a great job playing twins, lower-class ambitious/conflicted brothers that grew up in one of the outer boroughs of NYC and land up on 42nd Street; one runs a bar for the mob and the other is a grifter/gambler. Franco is so understated that we forget that both characters are performed by one glamour -puss actor. There are many humane portrayals in this series - the range is wide and the insight into each personal choice is differentiated and individualized which I attribute to the incisive vision of David Simon whose previous work-particularly on HBO's The Wire and Treme should be seen.

Dominique Fishback and Margarita Levieva

The scrutiny of one small area in NYC as a microcosm of an illegal underground enterprise is deliberate and disciplined. Sex is often hard, boring work with moments of ecstasy and violence, and that love has nothing to do with it. Money and a hierarchy of corruption are at the root of THE DEUCE which is buffeted by winds of change.

R.I.P. THE VILLAGE VOICE NEWSPAPER 9/1/18

I bemoan the passing of The Village Voice - a true voice for those who were the underdog in New York City. I read it for local NYC news, arts, and entertainment. The cheapest apartment rentals were listed as were the WORST landlords in the city.

I got the best review of my work that I ever could imagine in 1993 for a show I had in Soho titled BOY WITH A GUN. Arlene Raven was the Arts critic for The Village Voice and she wrote this personal and poetic article about my artwork which I would like to share. 

CALL THE MIDWIFE - A BBC PRODUCTION ON NETFLIX 8/31/18

I am a woman who never wanted children. I don’t coo at babies, I don’t desire to interact with them until they are about 2-years old when we can communicate and giggle together; but admittedly I marvel at their soft skin unmoved by time’s implacable hand, reminding me how, as a young girl, I would intentionally bump into women wearing glistening  black, silky fur coats on the streets of NYC, covertly trailing my hand along the velvety down, for a fleeting caress. So when my sister, among others, told me to watch CALL THE MIDWIFE a BBC series on Netflix I scoffed at the idea. 

But I  was mistaken - this series is not only about babies brought into the world assisted by nurse and nun midwives working in the poverty-stricken East End of London (Poplar) in the 1950’s and 1960’s  - an area that was beginning to recover from the devastation of World War II, which still cast a long shadow on the lives of the people at a critical time of historical change - each episode chronicles a pressing issue that impacted women then and even today.

Every conceivable birthing situation is addressed along with a diverse group of expectant mothers who come to the bustling clinic with toddlers, teens, and family in tow. Movingly the women are seen as individuals many of whom are struggling with poverty, abuse, and often unwelcome pregnancies at a time when contraception was not available. Women stayed home and had babies the choices made for them by society’s strictures.  Some critics might regard CALL THE MIDWIFE as a sentimental look at the status of women in the mid-20th century, but the bleak realities of economic and spiritual deprivation are spotlighted with a penetrating lens.

The nuns and nurse/midwives live at Nonnatus House which is a convent dedicated to interacting with the Poplar community;  a place that salvages the neighborhood’s wounds and is a sanctuary for the populace to escape their hardship and engage with one another. I embraced each of the extraordinary kind and generous caregivers. Despite being idealized we see the flaws, insecurities, and childhoods imprinted on their psyches. Every person has a story that is shunted into darkness; many have secrets that could not be revealed for fear of isolation and expulsion. There is a breadth to the scope of this series’ view of humanity which is not often brought to light. CALL THE MIDWIFE addresses the goodness in society —even if that goodness is just a kernel dreamily floating in the universe.

BLACK KkKLANSMAN AND CRAZY RICH ASIANS 8/20/18

I saw two movies that got great reviews from the critics. Both were disappointing - Spike Lee’s BLACK KkKLANSMAN and Jon M. Chu’s CRAZY RICH ASIANS.

John David Washington as Ron Stallworth and Laura Harrier as Patrice 

Spike Lee did almost everything right in his latest movie,  BLACK  KkKLANSMAN and this could have been a great film; his baring of the scope of rampant racism and anti-semitism throughout history is on the mark, but there is often a shield of empty and tired dogma shrouding his characters. The power of fresh, convincing expression is rare and hard to come by; language that feels both natural and emotionally gripping is sacrificed to the altar of ideological protest-speak.

The visual imagery and Terry Blanchard’s music were gripping; if only his actors spoke to one another less self-consciously, not as scripted and predictably. When Lee inserts documentary footage, he does so brilliantly - taking clips from what many consider the classic racist 1915 film, Birth Of A Nation right up to the 2017 white supremacist's protests in Charlottesville Virginia.  We see the same faces of hatred and contempt - not much has changed.

Topher Grace as David Duke

I was once told that when it comes to racism and issues of poverty and hate, people have to be “hit over the head” continuously for them to see and talk with one another - perhaps that is what BLACK KkKLANSMAN is trying to do. Alas, my heart was not moved, though my intellect was ever-present.

Adam Driver and John David Washington

Henry Golding and  Constance Wu

CRAZY RICH ASIANS is a stereotypical re-imaging of “generational divide’ taken straight out of Hollywood/Bollywood and moved to Singapore with exaggerated and at times outrageous characters, cavorting in glitzy, tacky celebrations of the seductiveness of wealth’s “glamor” with the starring couple’s disavowal of those “trite” values while embracing them. 

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We see a well-meaning tale of love overcoming parental “class” disapproval performed by an all Asian cast. The movie included the run-of-the-mill parodies of a goofy family, a ridiculous gay man, and a bitchy ex-girlfriend; the tear-jerking Cinderella story was updated for our 21st-century era so that the leading lady is an educated, independent woman who is a Professor. Alas, this over-production lacked originality and charm which would have made CRAZY RICH ASIANS more bearable.

Constance Wu

LEAVE NO TRACE 7/16/18

LEAVE NO TRACE, a film co-written and  directed by Debra Granik opens with an aerial shot of dense green foliage, a beautifully constructed spider web catching the sun’s silken rays of light, and hanging wet moss dripping water as the camera caresses nature’s exquisiteness in the Pacific Northwest landscape - a few miles outside of an alternate world - Portland Oregon. And then we glimpse a man and young girl almost camouflaged among the lush fronds - invisible as they wish to be. 

A father named Will (Ben Foster) and his teenage daughter, Tom (Thomasin McKenzie) are “survivalists” who have tamed a small area of this wild beauty into a home. Their relationship with “nature” is respectful; they are both comfortable with living outdoors - cooking, tending to a fire, and getting clear water from the canopy of foliage that envelops them. The relationship with one another is both tender and loving but not equal. Tom, is clearly a teenage girl who is deferential and appreciative of the father who raised her but longing to know more about her mother who died when she was very young. We soon glean that Will is a veteran with PTSD symptoms whose dreams often jolt him awake shaken, gasping shallow breaths against the vast ceiling of stars in the deep black umbrella of space.

The beginning of LEAVE NO TRACE depicts how Will and Tom live day-to-day gathering food, playing chess, caring for a garden - all done with a delicate affection that one cannot help but envy, both tending to what is needed to live a life “off the grid” - untouched by contemporary life’s amenities. Suddenly everything changes when Tom is spotted by a Ranger and police with dogs arrive, violating their intimate island in the midst of the vast protective forest. 

The outside world has finally permeated their lives, including the assignment of a social worker who gets them situated in pre-fab housing complete with a television, a stove, electricity, and warm shelter. The film is replete with people touching Will and Tom’s  lives who are very kind, concerned individuals, but are unable to comprehend living a “homeless” existence under the light of the moon; an existence which demands nothing from civic institutions, where self-reliance and the ability to live isolated from others is a form of freedom - no matter the cost.

Thomasin McKenzie portraying the daughter is a lovely young actor with her pale face and sharply curious dark eyes who adores and understands her father’s psychological frailties, however once she comes into contact with the world around her she, unlike her father, embraces all living creatures with an innocence and compassion that is exquisite to observe. 

Ben Foster gives a moving performance as Will whose wounded, shaken psyche, torn apart by the brutality of war, softens immeasurably whenever he is with his daughter, who he has raised to be self-reliant, strong and gentle - a captivating mixture. As for the rest of society, Will’s close-set suspicious eyes reveal the inner turmoil of an untamed colt, jittery and ready to bolt at any unwanted intrusion.

All the characters that Will and Tom meet on their journeys, exhibit a sensitivity that belies outward appearances. Director Debra Granik is almost idyllic in her view of community and humanity’s goodness all nestled under the light and ambiance of the majestic Pacific Northwest. LEAVE NO TRACE is an honest, unpredictable, quiet film - a coming of age story that touched me to the point of stifling audible sobs while viewing the vulnerable delicacy of human fragility.

SOUTINE EXHIBITION "FLESH" at JEWISH MUSEUM, NYC 7-14-18

Soutine, Carcass of Beef, oil on canvas

GREAT Soutine show aptly titled FLESH at The Jewish Museum, NYC running through September 16th. Chaim Soutine is a major 20th-century artist who I consider a ghostly mentor. As a painting student, I constantly looked at his work feeling the force of his tension with paint - like an elastic band about to snap - imagining his malleable body slashing away at the canvas with visceral intensity. 

Whenever I view Soutine's work I intuit deep inside my person the pulling and scraping of paint; the distortion of an image to make a painting that mirrors the raw impalement of the flesh.

Soutine, Still Life With RayFish, oil/canvas

Soutine, The Great Pheasant, oil/canvas, 1926/27

Detail: Soutine, The Great Pheasant, oil/canvas, 1926/27

Soutine: The Salmon, oil/canvas

Detail: Soutine, The Salmon, oil/canvas

Soutine, White Duck, oil/canvas, 1925

This small exhibition of still-lives contained images of slabs of beef, twisted and wrung chicken heads, fish heads, and hares with anthropomorphic forks writhing on the plate ready to penetrate the hapless creature.

Soutine, Hare With Forks, oil/canvas, 1924

Detail: Soutine, Hare With Forks, oil/canvas, 1924

Ahhhh I loved the show!