If you thought that Manhattan's skyline was already too full to accommodate for new towers, you'd be wrong: we'll soon be getting another massive building in midtown that is going to dwarf all the structures around it.
It looks and reads like a parody of bad 21st century architectural ideas in the city.
(via In Justine Kurland’s Photographs, a Mother and Son Hit the Road | The New Yorker)
In Justine Kurland’s “This Train,” a work of photography collected in a handsome edition by mack, we arrive at the fact of violence obliquely. The suite of photographs, which Kurland made during months living on the road between 2005 and 2011, is split into two parallel bodies of work.
In one, we encounter Kurland and her young son, Casper, as they traverse the U.S., mostly the West, in a van, stopping along the way in campsites and motels, forest clearings and desert brushland, gas stations and diners.
In the other, we see images of landscapes, riven by trains, which Kurland captured during these same travels.
First came the dirty looks as I walked Milo up to Nostrand Avenue and back. Then the tree wells on the curb with the all-caps “No poop, no pee here” signs. And then there were the side-eyes I got bending over with a waste bag, the man who called me a bitch under his breath when he saw Milo and I waiting outside the deli. In a city where many feel ready to snap, dogs have become easy targets for a bubbling undercurrent of rage. Now, strangers will just tell my dog he’s an asshole. On three separate occasions, a woman in my building, who doesn’t know I work from home and who doesn’t live on my floor, has come downstairs to stand right in front of my door until Milo starts barking, then yells at him gleefully. Walking to the corner store the other day, Milo made a little woof while crossing the street. “Shut up, dog,” a man told him, staring at me. The woman next to him started laughing. “Yeah, shut up dog!”
Tarantino had been honing The Movie Criticfor months. Set in 1977 California, it initially drew inspiration from a cynical movie critic that the filmmaker grew up reading. But sources say it morphed along the way into a film that would feature Brad Pitt as Cliff Booth, the stuntman he portrayed in an Oscar-winning performance in Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. It is unclear if this film was going to be a prequel or a 1970s-set sequel to Hollywood. But in recent weeks, Tarantino had a change of heart again and moved away from the film entirely.
Film-maker Gary Huggins inadvertently snapped up a slice of lost silent film history at an auction in a car park in Omaha, Nebraska, that was selling old stock from a distribution company called Modern Sound Pictures. Hoping to bid on a copy of the 1926 comedy Eve’s Leaves that he had spotted on top of a pile, Huggins was informed that he could only buy the whole pallet of movies, not individual cans. The upside? The lot was his for only $20.
Huggins soon discovered that his new pile of reels included 1923’s The Pill Pounder, a silent comedy that had been thought to be lost for decades. It is a short, two-reel film, shot on Long Island, New York, and directed by Gregory La Cava, best known for later classics such as My Man Godfrey (1936) and Stage Door (1937).