Video shot by Mandela Gregoire, edited by Elizabeth Kreutz
A lost female astronaut has wandered the streets of New York for the past two weeks. The performance piece by artist Alicia Framis is part of the art biennial Performa 09, and ironically responds to the exclusion of women from the race to the moon 40 years ago. We caught up with Framis to chat about the project and grabbed footage from her videographer Mandela Gregoire.
The lost astronaut followed instructions written by authors and artists including New Yorker writer Michael Shulman, artist and Hercules and Love Affair alum Kim Ann Foxman, and performance artist Marina Abramovic.
Although the performances are over, the astronaut’s base camp—which displays logs and photos of her excursions and architectural models of moon homes—is on view at APF Lab (15 Wooster St between Broome and Canal Sts; 212-966-0193, artproductionfund.org; daily, noon–6pm) through November 22. See more photos from the project after the jump. Read more »
Did you miss our third annual live showcase as part of the New York Comedy Festival? Enjoy a snippet from each of the fantastic performers; it will have to be enough to tide you over until next year.
Last week, we took a tour of Spaeth Design, the company that’s building this year’s holiday windows for Saks Fifth Avenue, Lord & Taylor and Macy’s, and shot behind-the-scenes footage of Saks’s windows being built. We would love to show it to you now, but that would be like opening your presents on Christmas Eve. Instead, here’s David Spaeth and Saks fashion director for windows Steve Swirczek talking about last-minute panics from years past.
Check back after the unveiling on November 23 to follow David and Steve through the studio.
Video shot by Roberto De Luna, edited by Karina Granda and Elizabeth Kreutz
We’ll say one thing for returning to “standard time” after daylight saving time in the summer: There are more hours of darkness to drink covertly, which is great for two reasons. The first is that as it gets colder, we just want to toss one back; and second, there’s a whole new winter drinking guide, with cozy bars, seasonal drinks, warming comfort food and more. Perfect if you’re feeling like the dude above.
Which brings us to our video. We just wanted to prove that no models were hurt, or caught hypothermia, in the making of this cover. Check out how we did it with this behind-the-scenes footage.
If you’re holiday shopping in Times Square this year and find yourself in need of relief, you may consider the following information to be of use. A well-known toilet-paper brand is setting up free restrooms on Broadway and 46th Street, opening November 23. And said company has decided to offer five $10,000 bathroom attendants brand-ambassador positions, in what can only be a ploy to garner publicity. We bit. But we did find out a servicey tidbit: If you’ve had sex in these five public bathrooms, don’t try to add the sixth in Times Square when Molly is there; she’s a prude.
The challenge: finding this year’s most predictable costumes—Michael Jackson, Bernie Madoff, swine flu, Max from Where the Wild Things Are, Lady Gaga and Balloon Boy—at the 36th Annual Village Halloween Parade. The result: epic fail for TONY, a win for New Yorkers’ creative impulse.
How do you get to Carnegie Hall? By singing songs about waiting for your AIDS test, smuggling cocaine and dating Nazis, apparently. That, at least, is the route comic-singer Stephen Lynch has taken (he’s probably practiced a bit too). He performs with an ensemble in the Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage at Carnegie Hall on Saturday, October 24, at 8pm ($35–$45), and we caught up with him in rehearsal for an exclusive performance of his song “Little Tiny Mustache.”
We’ve all seen horror movies and know video crews have less chance of survival than cheerleaders. Regardless, we sent a crack team to check out the Nightmare: Vampires haunted house. Only one made it back with the footage so you can see what’s in store. The house is open from 3 to 11pm today if you’re feeling brave, or check out how Nightmare stacks up against two other haunted houses in our Halloween scare-off.
And if you see one of the undead at Nightmare: Vampires with a TONY microphone, tell them we want it back or we’ll dock their pay.
As we air kiss Fashion Week farewell, we’re left with metaphorical scraps of film on the electronic-cutting-room floor. What to do with footage of an awesome scarf made out of rubber bands and pearls, or the unintelligible harlequin, or the body painter? Montage! See you in the spring, dahlings. Mwah, mwah.
Do you ever feel like you’re being watched? This was the feeling I experienced while scanning the Fashion Week crowd for likely interviewees. Then, out of nowhere, Esther Nash appeared and told me she was leaving so I wouldn’t be able to interview her. Um, okay, “would you like to be interviewed now?” I asked. And thank goodness I did, or I wouldn’t have realized some people around me weren’t wearing underwear (ew) or have collected empirical evidence that fabulousness and modesty occur in inversely proportional quantities. Science can thank me later.
At Fashion Week there are people who have poor judgment, people who are mean, PR people who suddenly whisk you upstairs to plug their employer’s sky-thingy and people who are totally genuine and won’t deal with scales of any kind. In the latter category, we humbly submit Tina Chai, who was feeling nautical that day.
Once you get people at Fashion Week talking about their clothes, it’s very difficult to get them to stop. When you dressed yourself today, did you think to yourself, I want to combine elements of David Bowie, Michael Jackson, anime, mythology, the Wicked Witch of the West and a frisson of dead cop? Or, like us, did you think, I’m going to try and find something that’s clean?
Greetings, fashion mortals. Bow down, for we have brought you the gift of style from Mount Olympus in Bryant Park. Learn from these fashion deities from Spring 2010 Fashion Week. First up, a branded “up-and-coming designer” who describes her style as chameleon. Scaly reptiles are the new black, or something.
The Lowbrow Society for the Arts released art into the wild last night, well, the J train at least, to the bemusement and amusement of their fellow passengers. The only criteria for the art on show was its got to be wearable. Next stop a pop-up shop? Just a suggestion.
Fancy London? Yeah, so do we. And thankfully, for the next three weeks you can enjoy some of the best of Britain without the warm beer, stodgy food and bad teeth. Just head on down to the Lower East Side for the Wish You Were Here pop-up shop swap through September 13. Check out our video for a flavor of this so-called transatlantic experience and for a glimpse of some of the participating collections, including Sienna Miller’s Twenty8Twelve.
Nina Ananiashvili has been the object of a rare form of universal adoration. During her 16-year career as a principal dancer at American Ballet Theatre, Ninochka—or “Nina Ballerina,” as she is still lovingly known—was frequently greeted with midperformance standing ovations and showers of red roses from loyal fans in the balcony. Her performances were like interactive displays of affection—audience participation and devotion were part of the theater.
When I was eight, I met Nina. My mother and I were at the Freed of London shop on 58th Street, where I’d been begging my mom, in Russian, for a tutu. During my meltdown, Nina walked in, and my mom immediately recognized her; she’d seen her win the gold medal at the Moscow International Ballet Competition in 1985. They started to talk—Nina seemed enamored of a little girl who wanted to dance—and within minutes she went to the cashier and returned with a gift: a one-of-a-kind hair piece adorned with five pink roses. Days later, we accepted Nina’s invitation to meet in her dressing room after a performance of Swan Lake. It was then that I became ridiculously infatuated—with ballet, with the Met Opera House and most of all, with Nina Ananiashvili.
Nina’s farewell performance on June 27 marked the end of an era. At the conclusion, she stood at the center of the stage with a mound of roses at her feet. She was at least a generation older than the dancers cheering her on, but as she cavorted with a baton (given to her by conductor Ormsby Wilkins), she seemed younger than any of them. This video captures Ananiashvili during the 25 minutes of curtain calls from that final performance; accept my sincere apologies for the slight camera wobbles— it was hard to remain still.—Erica Sheftman
Ladies and gentlemen, we present for your viewing pleasure, Dustin “Dirty D” Diaz, demonstrating his signature move “The Dirty D Pile Driver.” Why? Dear God why? Because “The Air Sex Championships” are this Friday at the Highline Ballroom.
We also spoke to three competitors to find out more and discovered “Your sexin’ has to tell a story” (thanks for the tip, Slut-Truffle). We’ve also got images from last year’s competition (wait, take a sec to make sure coworkers aren’t looking) here.
We’ll do almost anything to get something for free, right? It’s one of those truisms we just never get bored of testing. You wouldn’t think people would sing, run through a fountain fully clothed or eat a glob of wasabi for an awesome TONY T-shirt. But they do! And it’s awesome! Maybe it was the charms of the reopened Washington Square Park…
Find 125 other things that are free in NYC, charming Brit with a video camera not included, here.
A three-part lecture series, “Sex, Cinema & Censorship,” starts tonight at 92YTribeca. NYU’s Howard Oboler traces how film went from titillation to T&A, and tonight he looks at “lesbianism (The Children’s Hour [1961]), homosexuality (Brokeback Mountain [2005]) and pedophilia (Lolita [1962]) in a very academic light.”
As we’re keen educators here at TONY, we’ve compiled some “study aids” in the form of clips from the men-in-drag Some Like It Hot, the sexually empowered and bare-legged (gasp!) Red-Headed Woman and the “I’ve fallen for Audrey Hepburn” lesbian conundrum The Children’s Hour. Enjoy! But in a serious, chin-stroking manner.
We could tell you that we really like feisty soul singer Shelly Bhushan, and you should go see her perform tonight at Drom. We could tell you that her bassist played with James Brown. We could tell you about her powerhouse voice, which filled TONY’s palatial (natch) office with no amplification. But why bother? The performance above of “Beautiful Me” speaks (or, more accurately, sings) for itself.
Watched it? Liked it? Planning on going tonight? Thought so. Bhushan is supporting Australian Idol winner Guy Sebastian.
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