It is as we zoom past literal interpretation to arrive at a deeper truth that we appreciate the title Not Our President. It marks the profound disconnect between the aims and practices of the Trump regime and the aspirations of those who think like the forty-two artists, intellectuals, and cultural workers collected under the phrase.

          Randee Silv’s new chapbook, Farnessity (dancing girl press 2018) introduces us to a classification-eluding language event that she calls wordslabs.  A first read-through can feel both seductive and disorienting.  The content and rhythm of the first sentence or two might seem, often enough, to signal narrative, perhaps even fiction, but very soon afterwards, the threads start shifting so much that one has to wonder just what this writer’s up to. 

Walking into Galerie Bucholz one sun-soaked Saturday afternoon in January, the effect was in equal turns overwhelming and energizing. Crammed so full with artworks and historical objects, the gallery resembled something closer to a kitsch-filled antiques store than a typical art show, tasteful as it was.

In Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita, there is a poignant exchange between the nameless master of the novel’s title, and the everyman-poet Ivan Bezdomny:

“What, don't you like my poetry?” asked Ivan with some curiosity.
“I hate it.”
“Which poems have you read?”

 The National Ballet of Canadian performance of John Neumeier’s Nijinsky opened last Tuesday April 3 for its short run at the S.F. Opera House, through Sunday April 8, at 2:00, and it’s not to be missed. While I love ballet, I don’t go that often. Yet I followed my intuition and bought balcony tickets for the premiere and I have never been so grateful for my 6th sense as I stood with the crowd calling bravo as the curtains billowed and the dancers made their final bows. 

          I must praised Feast for his depiction of me or, at least a character modeled on that wayward waif, Steve Dalachinsky. At that time, I had not fully acquainted myself with the book and find that the Steve character doesn’t have much of a role in the story.

The Death of Stalin, the tremendous new film directed by Armando Iannucci and based on the comic book of the same title by Fabien Nury and Thierry Robin, begins in Moscow with a performance of a Mozart piano concerto, performed superbly by the pianist Maria Veniaminovna Yudina (Olga Kurylenko), conducted by Spartak Sokolov (Justin Edwards) and transmitted through the radio by two highly
competent sound engineers (Paddy Considine and Tom Brooke).

I’m sitting inside a storage closet. There is no office chatter coming from the hallway. Its Good Friday. This room houses a surplus of desk chairs piled high and paper products for the pantry kitchen around the corner that I have to restock.

Ryan Coogler and Michael B Jordan are the only men in film who are making movies about and for black boys. Their latest installment in this campaign, Black Panther, is a psychedelic adventure tragedy.

Josie kneels over the man, her back foot scooted beneath her with the front leg propped in a kneeling position. She assesses the scene, taking note of all the details; the man who’s not breathing, the AED beside him, and the people surrounding her. She taps the figure on the shoulder and shouts, “Are you OK?”

This sterling short story collection humorously explores the role of obtaining individual
expression through the power of personality, luck and perseverance.
 

A Wrinkle in Time Pushes Positive Message With Diverse Cast

In light of the month-long centennial retrospective of Ingmar Bergman’s films at Film Forum, I am excited to share a piece I wrote as an undergraduate on Cries and Whispers as seen through a prism of Feminist Literary Theory.

African superhero Black Panther brings movie magic into reality with sold out theaters and record-breaking box office sales around the globe.

Joan Didion is synonymous with provocative, ahead-of- her-time writing.

There is a specter haunting the democracies of the 21st century – the specter of a democracy worthy of the name.

Most vacuums in political conversation seem to work in a similar way; there is a perspective that
waiting to be addressed. Frequently the vacuum exists because that perspective doesn’t actually
have a voice yet.
 

Purdy, like some of the internal agitators who are used for
“green baiting”, do not fully understand or appreciate that Nature was given to them.

Simply put, even if punks had an acute awareness of “the poverty of artists’ lives”( to adapt a phrase from Situationism), they were lacking in a forceful historical understanding on which to base their reading of the present.

That was a nice time to come. In the mid-70s it was quiet and it was very cheap to live. And there was no hype. But I found it very depressing. Then later everything started moving. I think cheap apartments are an essential element in the creation of a counterculture. I think so And landlordism is an enemy of art. It's an enemy of civilization, really.