Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Housing Works Bookstore Cafe: my new favorite place in the city

Much like discovering a new band, I am amazed when I happen upon a new locale in the city that fits me so well, and wonder how I had gone so long in ignorance of it. In a place like this, and with my penchant for exploring it so readily and often, this of course happens all the time. Still, it is no less surprising to enter a place like Housing Works and wonder how I'd managed never to go there before.

For those of you who don’t know, Housing Works is a national organization dedicated to improving the lives of individuals stricken with HIV/AIDS and homelessness—and too often both. It serves this community through advocacy, services, and entrepreneurial business. This third pillar—which in New York City you’ll encounter as the Housing Works Thrift Shops and the Housing Works Bookstore Café—brings in 25% of the organization’s operating budget. At the Bookstore, every used book or café snack purchased is a donation, and all the employees are volunteers. And not only is the Bookstore a hip space that supports a great cause with a well-organized selection of donated books and music, but they are also a hub for artistic and cultural events.

And that, after all, is why I finally dropped by. With a Tuesday evening free, I opted for a poetry reading celebrating National Poetry Month. The National Book Foundation had hosted a discussion on contemporary poetry’s (and poets’) enduring place in American culture, and on following evening they actually presented three poets to share their work and thoughts: Mark Doty, Kathleen Graber, and Patricia Smith.

As I sat with a coffee and cookie, I considered how often I had gone to these type of events in college, and how I hadn’t attended a literary event in some time. Then I realized that I had gone to a book talk just the week before. I’d met Tim at the Union Square Barnes & Noble to hear one of our modern heroes speak about his latest book: Jeremy Wade, the English journalist/biologist/angler who hosts the television show “River Monsters,” and recently released a book of fish tales under the same title. If you haven’t seen a second of “River Monsters” then you are either watching the crap some consider “television,” or actually living a productive, fruitful life. Either way, you’re wasting your time and missing out on one of the greatest programs ever recorded. In each episode, Mr. Wade investigates the story of an especially dangerous or large freshwater fish. He then travels to exotic locations, interrogates local fisherman, and doggedly attempts to catch the suspected fish. Apparently, my ten-year-old cousin is hooked on the show as much as us, so Tim picked up copy of the book and got it signed for the boy. Of course, we’ll first read the book before he receives it as a gift.    

And on a sad note, it pains me to say that my own river monster, my beta fish G.O.B. has passed on. For two years, the feisty fish was my erstwhile roommate, enduring all my moods and proclivities through thick and thin, i.e. his water and my room’s available light. However, beginning tomorrow, I will take on a new companion with a temperament to match his name, George Michael (the “Arrested Development” character, not the singer-songwriter.)

But, back to the poetry. Kathleen Graber read lyrical poems concerning writing itself and other literary allusions, while Mark Doty read poetry with a more quotidian and modern bent. And, ailing from Bell’s palsy, Patricia Smith—a champion slam poet—stridently read poems steeped in the history of Chicago and her family’s origins. Mr. Doty had an interesting reading style, but it was unfortunate that Ms. Smith could not read as well as she normally could, for although her poems had a energy and potency in their words alone, I really would have liked to have heard her perform to her fullest extent (as I’m sure she would have, too.)

In the question-and-answer session after the reading, the poets discussed what writers and critics had the evening before: the place of poetry in modern culture and vis-à-vis the public at large. Political intentions and accessibility were mentioned, and the poets defended their art as confronting issues that required thought, that could not be reduced to a sound bite. Essentially, if you want someone to think about the complexities of an issue that is not as simple as it seems, then you should explore and present it in a manner that requires the active exertion of thought to unpack and digest it. The poet should not make their art too difficult or inaccessible to most readers (just because they can) lest the poem fail to be effective.

Before the evening concluded, Mr. Doty suggested (partly in jest, but with a good dose of earnestness) that modern health care should include a literary therapist—and not just to provide an occupation to unemployed English majors. It could greatly benefit individuals if there was some guidance in what they read, if only there was a source that could suggest to them works and authors that could relate to their personal issues and experiences. As I finish this post, I realize I might just have a few more things to say about poetry—especially considering that I’ll being going back to the Housing Works Bookstore for another poetry reading tomorrow, er, tonight. See? A cool place that’s worth returning to weekly, and patronizing just as often.

And speaking of which, what did I pull from the stacks of used books to add to my personal collection? Vinyl records, of course. I know, I know, but c’mon … George Gershwin playing "Rhapsody in Blue," a recording of Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain,” and a song called “Danse Macabre” recorded fifty years ago by none other than the New York Philharmonic—how could I pass this stuff up?

Yeah, I know ... a photo of an album is like writing about jazz--it just doesn't convey the listening experience.

Driving Mr. McDermott (I. Beginnings)*

It only just dawned on me a couple weeks ago—whilst driving in the vicinity of Fort Lee, New Jersey—that I should write about this very experience on my failing blog. Each time I'm behind the wheel—regularly enough for a post every (other) week—I endure a post's worth of new places and lessons learned. And, just maybe, there's still something to be said on the coming-of-age saga know as "learning how to drive." Despite the fact it is a near-universal experience among adults in this country, my unique circumstances and writerly perspective could provide some entertaining and (dare I say?) enlightening material that may resuscitate this blog from its death bed. (Before I had this epiphany on the road, I considered writing a post about writing; this surely would have been the nail in the coffin of a certain Typing Monkey.)

Monday, April 18, 2011

Writing about writing? Oh, I'm just pushing that nadir further and further down.

 If you don’t know already, I began this blog a year ago intending to foster my writing career (the only thing close to a career I have at the moment). Intending to be committed to the only thing I really know how to do, I proposed that I would write more and make it available in this public forum—specifically, by writing and posting a new play every week for a year. I had hoped the plays would be topical in nature and written in response to the current state of the world or, failing that, my life. At the crux of the plan: a method by which I would write more—opting for quantity over quality. If you care to delve into the archives of this blog, you will discover the ancient ruins of this project—with its artifacts preserved forever in the depths of the Internet.

Failing that, I revamped the blog this past fall with a different mission statement (that is, no mission statement), but the same purpose: to write more. With no limits, except my own interests and time to write, I should have had no trouble meeting this goal. What resulted was me bragging about hanging out in New York City every day, showing off the awesome food I make, or going on about bands you’ve never heard of—you know, the kinds of pretentious crap that make people hate personal blogs. Now, I do not mourn the death of blogging, just this one. Just as I feel a writer is an active noun, I feel a blog must also be active—dormancy suits neither. So, I’m writing this to satisfy both.

Now, my uncle has a blog (and freakin’ new website!) about his artistic and professional efforts as a children’s book author/illustrator. Since he spends most of his day drawing at a desk, he has lots of time to think. Too much. And every week or so, he spews out hundreds of words concerning his process, or the direction of his latest project, or new ways of distracting himself from that project. He has work to do, time to think, and thus something to say about that work on his blog. Reminding me that I had not posted anything on my blog over a month, he suggested that I discuss my writing process, since I am currently writing a play—and since playwriting was the original intent of the blog. As I recall, I dismissed him and his idea with a hearty, condescending guffaw and then stumbled to my room drunk on homemade limoncello only to fall asleep across my bed with a guitar on my chest, and a blank Word document on my laptop. Does that provide any insight into my process? Or, at the very least, the glamorous life of the writer? No? I’m not surprised. Let’s see if I can’t actually put a word or two on that screen.

The dilemma with this project, besides my perpetual battle with sitting down and actually writing it, is that I’m trying to graft on the conclusion to a play I began a year ago. Thus I’m trying to inject it with a different sense of theme and meaning, from the perspective of a me with a year’s worth of experience since I began. Actually, now that I see it written out here, that’s a pretty lame excuse, and not even a very truthful one. Because, really, what have I experienced over the last year that would actually impact me to the extent that it would leave an impression on my writing? Everything, one might say—a lit professor who didn’t know me that well, for instance. Or nothing, as a cynical observer of my life would say. The truth, obviously, lies between those extremes. And it’s my job to explore that region through writing, since that is the only productive way I know how. And if I actually keep positive and focused long enough, that exploration might just result in a finished work.

The oh-so-many things I have failed to blog about!

Dammit, I just used “blog” as a verb … things have started off poorly.

There were the oh-so-many concerts (Screaming Females, the New York Philharmonic, The Low Anthem, much jazz, etc.) And my oh-so-many food experiments (homemade limoncello, lemon-poppy cookies, homemade Pop Tarts.) And then of course my, um, not-so-many writings (more on this later). And did I mention my oh-so-many trysts, encounters, and near-death experiences while romping through the New York underground/nightlife? (Okay, perhaps not so much.) But I will try to catch ya’ll up and carry forward as best I can.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

One of my favorite singers

Josh Ritter at NPR for a Tiny Desk Concert. Enjoy!

(I know, I haven't posted in over a month ... this blog sucks. But maybe, just maybe, I can get some stuff written this weekend to put up here ... "cruelest month" be damned!)

Sunday, February 27, 2011

My New Favorite Band I Just Heard Of (Again?!)

Okay, yes, I may have said this before (The National, Screaming Females, Titus Andronicus, Smith Westerns Animal Collective, Mumford and Sons, Local Natives, Buke & Gass, etc.) Of course, I haven't forgotten any of them--I listen to my recent favorites frequently, and keep a sharp eye on their tour itineraries. But, when I discover a new artist, I just feel I have to mention them--and give my readers an opportunity to have a listen. And this weekend, it's a folksy quartet out of Rhode Island: The Low Anthem.

While at work the other day, as I was just about to put on an NPR First Listen album, I read the blurb for another: "Hear the Rhode Island band's melancholy new album of blues, folk and country music in its entirety." Holy shit. If there's something that's totally up my alley right now, it would be that exact combination. (Actually, looking at the development of my musical taste over the past few years, I'd say my "alley" is more of an interstate in breadth.) Plus, the band recorded the majority of the album in an abandoned pasta-sauce factory (how cool is that!); a fact that most critics have cited as a redeeming factor for the album, which would otherwise be spare and simple without the eerie and somber effects of the vast recording space's reverberations.

{Side note: considering that all the mega-indie bands are into unique recording spaces--Arcade Fire did Neon Bible in a church, and The Decemberists' recorded The King is Dead in a barn--where will this trend go next? Which band will take it too far, and push it into the realm of the tacky? And what is the most extreme space for recording? (The answer to that question is outer space, obviously. And if you don't think there's sound out there, just listen to the Voyager recordings and you'll find out how wrong you are.)}

You may have seen The Low Anthem on Letterman the other night, but for those who did not, you can listen to their new album, Smart Flesh on NPR Music website.

For those of you with more time, you can also listen to the live recording of their concert in a DC synagogue from just last week.

And for those of you without time for either, you should watch this video for both the song and to see their "studio":


And if you like any of that, then you should get out there and support the band if they play at your local venue--I know I will.



PS. So, actually, my new favorite band might just be the New York Philharmonic. I've heard them deliver some amazing performances over the last few years, and listening to their rendition of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 last Saturday pretty much locked it up. And ... Fun fact! The Philharmonic played that piece at their first concert, way back in 1842. (Hold on to that one for the trivia night at your local bar. Just remember to thank me when you're drinking your winning's from an old trophy bought at Goodwill.)  

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

What I've been listening to ...

Essentially, I've spent the last month or so of the new year catching up on everything I missed from 2010--whether it be an album I've been meaning to get since the summer (High Violet by The National), or some band I'd only recently heard about while skimming end-of-the-year lists (Buke & Gass ... who I finally saw in concert in January--for free!).  Also, there's been a bit of catching up with old favorites (Modest Mouse's Good News For People Who Love Bad News, for example), or obsessing over others (Animal Collective's Merriwether Post Pavilion, an obsession you'd understand if you've ever listened to it--as you should.) However, it is my intention here to give you a taste of the latest music. So, here are some recommended albums, with a featured song; and if you enjoy that, I encourage you to seek out the entire album.


High Violet, The National
“Bloodbuzz Ohio”

Riposte, Buke & Gass
            “Medulla Oblangata”


The Lady Killer, Cee-Lo (whom I saw sing “Crazy” with Prince the other night. Yeah, that Prince.)
            “No One’s Gonna Love You” (a Band of Horses cover)


This Is Happening, LCD Soundsystem
            “Dance Yrself Clean”


The ArchAndroid, Janelle Monae
            “Tightrope” (featuring Big Boi)


So Runs the World Away, Josh Ritter (I’ve been meaning to this album get since the concert in May)
            “The Curse”


Gorilla Manor, Local Natives (my new favorite band)
            “Shape Shifter”



 History From Below, Delta Spirit
            “Bushwick Blues”



Personal Life, The Thermals (who I saw at dinner at The Breslin!)
            “Never Listen to Me”


Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, My Chemical Romance
            “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)”


The King Is Dead, The Decemberists
            “Down by the Water”


Because I Was in Love, Sharon Van Etten
            “For You”


 Dye It Blonde, Smith Westerns
            “Weekend”

Everything Under the Sun, Jukebox the Ghost
            “Empire”


Harlem River Blues, Justin Townes Earle
            “Workin’ for the MTA”


Mines, Menomena
            “TAOS”


Congratulations, MGMT
            “Flash Delirium”


All Day, Girl Talk
            “Oh No” (with this perfectly complimentary visual mash-up)

 Halcyon Digest, Deerhunter
            “Helicopter”
 

Wow … I’ve had quite an earful since Christmas, although this really is mostly 2010 music. But with the new Decemberists and Smith Westerns albums—and more to come from Rise Against and TV on the Radio—I’m  looking forward to the new year’s new music.

Also, ‘cause it’s good:
“My Girls,” Merriwether Post Pavilion, Animal Collective