Inhuman Swill : NYC : Page 4
            

My scotch-loving friends in New York will want to hear about an email I just received from the Brandy Library. (Yes, I can't bring myself to unsubscribe from their mailing list.) The 16th Annual Single Malt & Scotch Whisky Extravaganza is coming to the Roosevelt Hotel on Thursday, May 7. Find all the information you need here. And if you go, knock one back for me.

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I've mentioned this recently, but just as a reminder to all you lucky folks in New York City, go see our good friend Laura Peterson's new show Forever at Dance New Amsterdam, this weekend. It's still running, tonight through Sunday. We usually come to town to see every new Laura Peterson show, but this time we're unable, so you have to represent.

This is a bit of what Dance View Times had to say about Forever:

"Modern Dance is Modern Art." That's what Laura Peterson tells her dance students, and it's a teaching she follows rigorously in her company's new work, "Forever." This is dance strictly as a visual object, the elements being four dancers in four colors, moving on a white oval floor, among four faux Grecian columns and a mirrored rear wall. The set is vaguely reminiscent of the modernist paintings of Dali or de Chirico, but the dancing itself is even more abstract. Always a minimalist, Peterson makes art by strictly limiting her choices. In "Forever" there's no emoting, no acting or miming, not even any touching. It's just snippets of movement, driven by sound....

Not incidentally, "Forever" is a pleasure to watch. You can take it simply as a kaleidoscope, with the sound score acting as the engine to turn the lens and set off a new series of changes every two minutes or so.... The point of "Forever" could be that when human beings hear sound in rhythm, they have to move, and that's what makes the river run.  [full review]

We've made some of you come with us to her shows before, so you already know to expect a pure spectacle you wouldn't expect from modern dance. Here's a sample, exactingly performed to the music of Lumberob:

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Forever

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Hey, all you lucky folks in New York City! Get tickets and go see my good friend Laura Peterson's new show Forever at Dance New Amsterdam, running February 18-22. Here's a sample, exactingly performed to the music of Lumberob:


[direct link to video]

And all you lucky folks in Chicago, be sure to see Laura Peterson with Asimina Chremos in Verbatim at Links Hall, running February 6-8. Two stunningly talented dancers in an evening-length duet.

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New York, I miss you

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I loved this LCD Soundsystem song even before I saw the video, but now I love it even more.

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The Flame

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We had a fine, fine time at the SFWA mill-and-swill last night, saw tons of great people. But what we appreciated most about the evening was that when we got back to our hotel—not even drunk!—and found that room service wasn't answering its phone even though it will still supposed to be operating, we just walked around the corner to one of those all-night Greek diners and ordered a couple of gyro platters. Midnight dining in midtown, man. It really hit the spot.

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Bridge and tunnel

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We're back. Not five minutes on the street, as we're walking down Ninth Avenue, a guy leans out a car window and asks, "Do you know where the Latin Quarter is?"

So I put on my best wiseguy and say, "Yeah, it's in fuckin' New Orleans."

I know, it doesn't make any sense, what I said, but we're fucking back.

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Recompense

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Speaking of electrical problems, do you remember that nine-day blackout we had in Queens a couple of years ago? I swung by the old apartment one day last week to pick up our mail (which our stupid old post office has thus far utterly failed to forward), and found amongst the pieces a check from ConEd back in New York. It was a hundred bucks in compensation for the power outage. We didn't have it as bad as some, since for some reason we at least had power for the appliances in the back half of our apartment, but hey, I'm not going to turn down money from a utility. In fact, given the state of banks lately, I deposited it as fast as I could.

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Bullseye

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I realized an odd thing yesterday, which is only meaningful to me. September 11th very nearly and neatly bisected my time in New York. I rolled into the city for the first time in a moving truck on (I think) October 9, 1995. Just shy of six years later, well, you know. And a bit shier of six years after that, June 30, 2007 (also my sixth wedding anniversary), we rolled back out of New York in a loaded SUV. Weird.

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The Rorschach test

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Seven years on, what does September 11th mean? Nothing.

Perhaps it would be less confrontational to say it means everything, or anything.

I had a terrible argument with a relative of mine during those bleak last months of 2001. I said something to the effect that a person's experience of September 11th was more valid if he or she was there, or at least that's how, in my clumsy way of speaking, my words came across. My relative took great offense at the idea that he wasn't as affected in Utah as I was in New York City. "You're telling me," he said, "that you wouldn't feel bad if someone blew up the Church Office Building in Salt Lake?"

"Of course I'd feel bad," I said. "But I wouldn't feel the same way as a person in Salt Lake. It would be more abstract for me."

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THE LIVER IS EVIL.  PUNISH IT HERE.

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The Accidental Terrorist 30th Anniversary Sale

Signed editions
that even a
missionary
could afford.

Order yours now!

William Shunn

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