New York’s self-declared bad-ass artist Dash Snow has died of a heroin overdose in his Manhattan hotel room yesterday. Dash Snow, similar to the late Michael Jackson, was known for his eccentric character, morphing his own lifestyle into an artwork itself. More so Dash Snow, as he did not really leave behind an acclaimed body of work for the afterworld to dwell on his genius. Inside the scene he will probably be remembered for people saying „I knew Dash Snow“ or „A friend of mine used to hang out with him“ more than his polaroids or recent collages decorated with his own semen. Altough Snow was not long ago quoted saying to a New York journalist that he had his walls lined with alphabetizd binders cataloging his work. „Because you never know what’s going to happen with Dash“.
That seemed in retrospect almost a bit too much uncool planning for post-stardom than the „artistic cool“ and „don’t care what will happen tomorrow attitude“ he tried to represent. For a long time he did not call himself an artist. And what he was doing as documenting his nights and days out, fucked on drugs and booze, with a stolen polaroid when he was 13. He always claimed of having estranged himself from his (wealthy) family after having spent two years in juvenile detention when he was a teenager. Dash Snow somehow never came across as very credible about trying to make it on his own, definitely not as the struggling artist. His claims helped to create the necessary hype that critics in NY seem to feed off in order to judge the talent of a newcomer.
Not to forget to mention that his maternal grandmother is a well known art collector, his aunt apparently is actress Uma Thurman and his brother Max was dating Mary Kate Olsen.
He certainly knew which strings to pull to promote his work to a spoilt and equally eccentric New York artworld. Like his ex-wife, artist Agathe, who cleverly hung on to her husband’s surname, he quickly became their darling, because he seemed rude and did not care. Maybe Dash Snow, co-founder of the Irak graffiti group, was just another rebell coming from a wealthy background showing his own „stable“ the middle finger and having great fun in doing so. Not many of us will get a chance to to do so and rise the interest of collectors such as Charles Saatchi. So, why not? But did he really have to go as far as becoming a heroin junkie or does this naturally come as part of the deal? Gone seem the romantic days where one could just be a rebel without a cause. Well, there was Warhol muse Eddie Sedgewick, who successfully partied herself to death, but then she never wanted to become a famous something. Maybe Pete Doherty, son of a navy general or similar sorts, could give answer about the ultimate temptation and self-destruction. And about what he thinks Jim Morrisson must have really felt deep inside his battered poetic soul.
Dash Snow leaves behind a little daughter, Secret. But what legacy, apart from dying at the mythical age of 27, did Dash Snow leave behind? For sure, he proved without batting an eyelid that he seemed to have no respect of his own life or death. And if his secret intention after all was to shock the by now so immune artworld, he definitely succeeded with a genuine statement: his own exit from the limelight just like that.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
In the aftermath of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett
Michael Jackson’s distinct face makes his last appearance on the cover of newspapers and magazines around the world: his delicate white skin, black curls hanging decoratively from his forehead; aviator glasses covering his eyes and a shy smile.
Whatever generation we belong to, at least one of his songs strikes a familiar chord, a memory of a night out trying to copy his moonwalk, high-school dreams of 1980s America, youthful excitement for the good times to come, enjoying life, wanting to be just as cool as him...
There are many people out there at this moment who are feeling a great loss, despite having never met him in person. Those (celebrity friends) ones lucky to have known him express their sadness and grief. He was unique and his star will always shine. Perhaps more now than ever.
I am wondering whether his comeback tour would have been received that well; whether he could have managed to re-invent himself as the great Michael Jackson he once was and the media raved about.
Only a few months ago I remember coming across a picture of him on the internet. It left me somehow disturbed and disappointed. He became a spitting image of himself, a caricature. What happened to the wonderful freaky Michael Jackson jumping around dressed in his trademark white socks and leather moccasins while grabbing his crotch and breathing out the lyrics in his unmistakably high-pitched voice. But his star had faded. The glow once to be found in his eyes had been missing.
I could never understand his marriages to Elvis Presley’s daughter and Debbie Rowe, who gave birth to his two sons. For some reason I could never imagine Michael Jackson as husband or father. Not because he would not have had the potential to love and care but because he was this "figure", beyond androgynous, that slowly seemed to take over the real person, whoever Michael Jackson was, if that ever mattered? Unfortunately I never had the chance to meet him, so I can only speculate.
There was always an air of "elusiveness" and "unreal" about his character, his appearance, which becomes more present now that he is gone. But there was also a gentleness reflecting from his character, that one could see imprinted on his face. He was fragile like a child.
I really wish that he will finally find what he was looking and longing for.
For the last two days millions of people, who don’t know each other, and celebrities who don’t know all these millions scattered around the world share similar thoughts - although just for a moment.
While his fans might question over and over again who this person was and why he was the way he was (in public), grieving Hollywood celebrities might have just received a reminder about the one thing, that does not have respect of fame, talent and money. Another thought goes out to Farrah Fawcett, a charismatic and brave actress and woman all along.
BAD: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFcFsVJ0nsM&NR=1
Whatever generation we belong to, at least one of his songs strikes a familiar chord, a memory of a night out trying to copy his moonwalk, high-school dreams of 1980s America, youthful excitement for the good times to come, enjoying life, wanting to be just as cool as him...
There are many people out there at this moment who are feeling a great loss, despite having never met him in person. Those (celebrity friends) ones lucky to have known him express their sadness and grief. He was unique and his star will always shine. Perhaps more now than ever.
I am wondering whether his comeback tour would have been received that well; whether he could have managed to re-invent himself as the great Michael Jackson he once was and the media raved about.
Only a few months ago I remember coming across a picture of him on the internet. It left me somehow disturbed and disappointed. He became a spitting image of himself, a caricature. What happened to the wonderful freaky Michael Jackson jumping around dressed in his trademark white socks and leather moccasins while grabbing his crotch and breathing out the lyrics in his unmistakably high-pitched voice. But his star had faded. The glow once to be found in his eyes had been missing.
I could never understand his marriages to Elvis Presley’s daughter and Debbie Rowe, who gave birth to his two sons. For some reason I could never imagine Michael Jackson as husband or father. Not because he would not have had the potential to love and care but because he was this "figure", beyond androgynous, that slowly seemed to take over the real person, whoever Michael Jackson was, if that ever mattered? Unfortunately I never had the chance to meet him, so I can only speculate.
There was always an air of "elusiveness" and "unreal" about his character, his appearance, which becomes more present now that he is gone. But there was also a gentleness reflecting from his character, that one could see imprinted on his face. He was fragile like a child.
I really wish that he will finally find what he was looking and longing for.
For the last two days millions of people, who don’t know each other, and celebrities who don’t know all these millions scattered around the world share similar thoughts - although just for a moment.
While his fans might question over and over again who this person was and why he was the way he was (in public), grieving Hollywood celebrities might have just received a reminder about the one thing, that does not have respect of fame, talent and money. Another thought goes out to Farrah Fawcett, a charismatic and brave actress and woman all along.
BAD: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFcFsVJ0nsM&NR=1
Monday, June 22, 2009
Bruno's Austria by Baron Cohen
Speculations must run high by now on whether Bruno outs himself as former politicians Jörg Haider's secrect lover? Can't wait for more cultural stereotype bashing.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/8102614.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/8102614.stm
Friday, June 19, 2009
Why Madonna deserved to "win" the fight for her daughter Mercy
Just now when driving to do some grocery shopping before the shops closed in Betties Bay (an hour and a half outside Cape Town) I had an experience which made me realize why Madonna
actually sets a great example of hope and love by adopting her second child, Mercy, from Malawi. Despite all the critical voices of her joining the bandwaggon of Angelina Jolie creating a patchwork family.
On my way to the shop just after sunset I picked up a mother and her two boys, Kurt, 5, and Tali, 9, looking for a ride to their home in the township in Kleinmond. I gave them a lift as far as I had to go but when I came out of the shop seeing the three of them on the side of the road in the dark, I decided to take them all the way home. Also because I sensed a slight alcohol breath from the woman before.
I offered the guys chocolate and got a broad smile in return. Quietly they talked while watching outside the window. Then Kurt curiously moved his head between the driver’s and the passenger’s seat. The mother said that their father died in a car accident and that I should not worry, because her kids do eat every day. Her hands put around her little child's shoulder. It made me very sad inside. She was telling me that she had a part time job, working in a restaurant. Then she pointed ahead to the sharp left curve coming up in front of us. This was the spot where Kurt’s and Tali’s father had died. When we drove inside Kleinmond Kurt smiled. He was home. „Baja dankie“ (thanks a lot) said his mother many times, with her green hair curlers on her head. I touched Kurt’s tiny shoulders when saying goodbye.
These kids were so fragile, so cute and innocent. It really got to me and made me think that if I have set myself within the right frame I would like to adopt a child in need. Anyone of these deserve to live a life as a child, without having to work or worry about food and most important having the feeling of being loved.
And I am thinking that Madonna, despite the money, power and fame she owns, does set a good example. Whatever exception this Malawian judge might have ruled for her or for money – one little girl is helped. She will not need to suffer anymore. She will have a family and be able to be just a child growing up and being loved. And at the end, this is all that counts. Whatever the rules of a country say. Rules don’t necessarily put human needs as their first priority.
And I guess for all of us who can make a small difference like this in their way, the world will hopefully start looking like a better place. It might be a naive, over-used phrase but I has not lost its reality.
For more articles on Madonna's adoption:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8098719.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7974232.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7973106.stm
actually sets a great example of hope and love by adopting her second child, Mercy, from Malawi. Despite all the critical voices of her joining the bandwaggon of Angelina Jolie creating a patchwork family.
On my way to the shop just after sunset I picked up a mother and her two boys, Kurt, 5, and Tali, 9, looking for a ride to their home in the township in Kleinmond. I gave them a lift as far as I had to go but when I came out of the shop seeing the three of them on the side of the road in the dark, I decided to take them all the way home. Also because I sensed a slight alcohol breath from the woman before.
I offered the guys chocolate and got a broad smile in return. Quietly they talked while watching outside the window. Then Kurt curiously moved his head between the driver’s and the passenger’s seat. The mother said that their father died in a car accident and that I should not worry, because her kids do eat every day. Her hands put around her little child's shoulder. It made me very sad inside. She was telling me that she had a part time job, working in a restaurant. Then she pointed ahead to the sharp left curve coming up in front of us. This was the spot where Kurt’s and Tali’s father had died. When we drove inside Kleinmond Kurt smiled. He was home. „Baja dankie“ (thanks a lot) said his mother many times, with her green hair curlers on her head. I touched Kurt’s tiny shoulders when saying goodbye.
These kids were so fragile, so cute and innocent. It really got to me and made me think that if I have set myself within the right frame I would like to adopt a child in need. Anyone of these deserve to live a life as a child, without having to work or worry about food and most important having the feeling of being loved.
And I am thinking that Madonna, despite the money, power and fame she owns, does set a good example. Whatever exception this Malawian judge might have ruled for her or for money – one little girl is helped. She will not need to suffer anymore. She will have a family and be able to be just a child growing up and being loved. And at the end, this is all that counts. Whatever the rules of a country say. Rules don’t necessarily put human needs as their first priority.
And I guess for all of us who can make a small difference like this in their way, the world will hopefully start looking like a better place. It might be a naive, over-used phrase but I has not lost its reality.
For more articles on Madonna's adoption:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8098719.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7974232.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7973106.stm
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Besuch bei Air in Paris
Air alias Nic Godin und Jean-Benoît Dunckel tauchen aus
einem dunklen Gang zu meiner Linken auf; beginnen erst
einmal mit Smalltalk. Zehn Jahre lang, erzählen sie, haben sie
nach dem perfekten Ort für ihr Studio gesucht. „Wir haben
sogar einen richtigen Architekten für den Umbau beauftragt“,
freut sich JB, wie Jean-Benoît sich selbst nennt.
Im Aufnahmeraum lagert, alles ein bisschen durcheinan-
der, das Instrumentarium des Air-Sounds: ein Regal voller
Wah-Wah-Pedale, acht Verstärker, vier E-Gitarren (darunter
eine Barry Rhodes), ein Glockenspiel, große und kleine
Handtrommeln. Unter dem Fenster, das das Studio und den
Aufnahmeraum verbindet, steht ein Koto, ein japanisches
Zupfinstrument, dessen Vorfahre auf die chinesische Zither
zurückgeht. Ein Jahr lang hat Nic bei einer japanischen Koto-
Meisterin in Paris gelernt, mit der Air zusammen im Centre
Pompidou aufgetreten ist.
Hier im privatesten Refugium der Band, wo die Zeit kaum eine Rolle
spielt und die Welt draußen vor der Tür warten muss, kann
ich die Frage stellen: Wie zeitlos kann Air sein oder wie sehr
ist Air in unserer Zeit verhaftet?
JB sitzt auf einem schwarzen Ledersofa, trägt Nadel-
streifhosen, über dem Hemd einen Pullunder, und spricht
mit angenehm ruhiger Stimme. „Wir sind so etwas wie eine
Einheit mit zwei Köpfen und vier Händen“, grinst JB. „Das
sollten wir besser nicht näher ausführen“, grinst Nic zurück.
Er und JB sind beide 39, Familienväter, und sie wirken doch
wie gerade mal erwachsen gewordene Jungs. JB beschäftigt
die Frage nach der Definition von Zeit schon lange. Ein
künstlerisches Werk mit einem Zeitfaktor von, sagen wir,
einer Million zu multiplizieren, sei schon schwierig genug,
meint er, aber sich vorzustellen, dass es dann noch immer
existiert ... Aus ihm spricht der Mathematiker, der er
ursprünglich werden wollte. Nic wandert kurz durchs Stu-
dio und pfeift eine Melodie. „Für mich zeigt es nur“, fährt JB
unbeirrt fort, „dass eines Tages alles aufhört zu existieren ...
Mein Interview mit Air in voller Länge nachzulesen
in der Mai-Ausgabe 2009 von Fleisch
einem dunklen Gang zu meiner Linken auf; beginnen erst
einmal mit Smalltalk. Zehn Jahre lang, erzählen sie, haben sie
nach dem perfekten Ort für ihr Studio gesucht. „Wir haben
sogar einen richtigen Architekten für den Umbau beauftragt“,
freut sich JB, wie Jean-Benoît sich selbst nennt.
Im Aufnahmeraum lagert, alles ein bisschen durcheinan-
der, das Instrumentarium des Air-Sounds: ein Regal voller
Wah-Wah-Pedale, acht Verstärker, vier E-Gitarren (darunter
eine Barry Rhodes), ein Glockenspiel, große und kleine
Handtrommeln. Unter dem Fenster, das das Studio und den
Aufnahmeraum verbindet, steht ein Koto, ein japanisches
Zupfinstrument, dessen Vorfahre auf die chinesische Zither
zurückgeht. Ein Jahr lang hat Nic bei einer japanischen Koto-
Meisterin in Paris gelernt, mit der Air zusammen im Centre
Pompidou aufgetreten ist.
Hier im privatesten Refugium der Band, wo die Zeit kaum eine Rolle
spielt und die Welt draußen vor der Tür warten muss, kann
ich die Frage stellen: Wie zeitlos kann Air sein oder wie sehr
ist Air in unserer Zeit verhaftet?
JB sitzt auf einem schwarzen Ledersofa, trägt Nadel-
streifhosen, über dem Hemd einen Pullunder, und spricht
mit angenehm ruhiger Stimme. „Wir sind so etwas wie eine
Einheit mit zwei Köpfen und vier Händen“, grinst JB. „Das
sollten wir besser nicht näher ausführen“, grinst Nic zurück.
Er und JB sind beide 39, Familienväter, und sie wirken doch
wie gerade mal erwachsen gewordene Jungs. JB beschäftigt
die Frage nach der Definition von Zeit schon lange. Ein
künstlerisches Werk mit einem Zeitfaktor von, sagen wir,
einer Million zu multiplizieren, sei schon schwierig genug,
meint er, aber sich vorzustellen, dass es dann noch immer
existiert ... Aus ihm spricht der Mathematiker, der er
ursprünglich werden wollte. Nic wandert kurz durchs Stu-
dio und pfeift eine Melodie. „Für mich zeigt es nur“, fährt JB
unbeirrt fort, „dass eines Tages alles aufhört zu existieren ...
Mein Interview mit Air in voller Länge nachzulesen
in der Mai-Ausgabe 2009 von Fleisch
Friday, June 5, 2009
Austrianfashion Kostüm-Geschichten
Von Mieder bis Latex, vom Modesalon der Schwestern Flöge bis Helmut Lang: Die Modesammlung des Wien Museum zählt mit ihrem Bestand von über 25.000 Objekten zu den bedeutendsten Sammlungen in Europa. Sie umfasst Damen-, Herren- und Kindermode vom 18. bis zum 21. Jahrhundert. Das Hauptaugenmerk liegt dabei auf Damenkleidung des Bürgertums im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert, auf Meilensteinen wie Korsett, Wiener Goldhauben, Sonnenschirmen und Spazierstöcken mit edler Griffverzierung. Oder auch den längst in Vergessenheit geratenen Riechfläschchen und Handschuhspannern.
„Eigentlich muss man eine solche Sammlung rückblickend betrachten," sagt Dr. Regina Karner, Leiterin der Modesammlung. Zu den modischen Highlights und Kostbarkeiten der Sammlung zählen unter anderem ein Kaschmirtuch von Maria Theresia, ein Morgenmantel von Johann Nestroy, Reformkleider von Kolo Moser, Malerkittel von Klimt und zahlreiche Kreationen aus den damals führenden Wiener Modesalons wie Christoph Drecoll, der Modeabteilung der Wiener Werkstätte sowie Hutkreationen von Adele List.
„Ausstellungen sowie Erhaltung der Textilien sind mit enormem Aufwand verbunden. Die Raumtemperatur muss konstant zwischen 18 und 22 Grad betragen, die Luftfeuchtigkeit um die 55 Prozent,“ so Karner. „Kleider aus dem 19. Jahrhundert, die man waschen kann, werden liegend gewaschen – in eine Wanne gelegt mit wenig Wasser und mit Schwämmchen gereinigt, die ganz sacht auf das Kleidungsstück gedrückt werden". Jedem Besitzer eines Vintage Kleides rät sie, die Kleidung abgedunkelt – sprich im Kleiderschrank – aufzubewahren, auf Mottenbefall zu untersuchen und bei gegebenen Fall reinigen lassen. Und nicht auf den altbewährten Lavendelbeutel zu vergessen.
Kleidung zwischen 1860 und 1910 ist in der Ausstellung Großer Auftritt: Mode der Ringstraße ab 10. Juni im Wien Museum (Karlsplatz) zu sehen. Ausgestellt werden prachtvolle Objekte aus der Sammlung wie eine zart grünfarbene Seidenkrepp-Taille aus dem Modesalon Grünbaum, Kleider für verschiedene Tageszeiten aus Organza, Seidendamast und mit Plissee. Weiters gezeigt werden ein Modell der Damen-Radfahrmode um 1890 (mit Korsett getragen) und Beispiele der damaligen Trauerkleidung, die nach den strengen Vorschriften am kaiserlichen Hof bei jedem Todesfall getragen werden musste.
Mein Artikel ist in voller Länge zu lesen unter: http://www.austrianfashion.net/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=672&Itemid=37
Informationen zur Ausstellung im Wien Museum: www.wienmuseum.at
„Eigentlich muss man eine solche Sammlung rückblickend betrachten," sagt Dr. Regina Karner, Leiterin der Modesammlung. Zu den modischen Highlights und Kostbarkeiten der Sammlung zählen unter anderem ein Kaschmirtuch von Maria Theresia, ein Morgenmantel von Johann Nestroy, Reformkleider von Kolo Moser, Malerkittel von Klimt und zahlreiche Kreationen aus den damals führenden Wiener Modesalons wie Christoph Drecoll, der Modeabteilung der Wiener Werkstätte sowie Hutkreationen von Adele List.
„Ausstellungen sowie Erhaltung der Textilien sind mit enormem Aufwand verbunden. Die Raumtemperatur muss konstant zwischen 18 und 22 Grad betragen, die Luftfeuchtigkeit um die 55 Prozent,“ so Karner. „Kleider aus dem 19. Jahrhundert, die man waschen kann, werden liegend gewaschen – in eine Wanne gelegt mit wenig Wasser und mit Schwämmchen gereinigt, die ganz sacht auf das Kleidungsstück gedrückt werden". Jedem Besitzer eines Vintage Kleides rät sie, die Kleidung abgedunkelt – sprich im Kleiderschrank – aufzubewahren, auf Mottenbefall zu untersuchen und bei gegebenen Fall reinigen lassen. Und nicht auf den altbewährten Lavendelbeutel zu vergessen.
Kleidung zwischen 1860 und 1910 ist in der Ausstellung Großer Auftritt: Mode der Ringstraße ab 10. Juni im Wien Museum (Karlsplatz) zu sehen. Ausgestellt werden prachtvolle Objekte aus der Sammlung wie eine zart grünfarbene Seidenkrepp-Taille aus dem Modesalon Grünbaum, Kleider für verschiedene Tageszeiten aus Organza, Seidendamast und mit Plissee. Weiters gezeigt werden ein Modell der Damen-Radfahrmode um 1890 (mit Korsett getragen) und Beispiele der damaligen Trauerkleidung, die nach den strengen Vorschriften am kaiserlichen Hof bei jedem Todesfall getragen werden musste.
Mein Artikel ist in voller Länge zu lesen unter: http://www.austrianfashion.net/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=672&Itemid=37
Informationen zur Ausstellung im Wien Museum: www.wienmuseum.at
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Obama meets the Queen of England
Amidst busy talks during the G20 meeting and violent protests US president Obama and his wife met the Queen of England and her husband.
Clearly the president could work his charmes on the ever "political correct and polite" Queen. The handshakes between the Queen and the first black president were quite an impressive piece of history that's just been made.
Somehow this moment of handshakes seemed to officially mark the superiority of white power, at last. Hopefully the symbolic photo-moment will become reality.
Also an interesting detail the fresh approach of the First Lady who did not curtsey.
Perhaps the strict rules of the house have loosened up. But Ms Obama, as always, was herself: human and smiling. Something that seems to be widely lacking in the aristocracy as known so far. Time to move on.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/7975851.stm
Clearly the president could work his charmes on the ever "political correct and polite" Queen. The handshakes between the Queen and the first black president were quite an impressive piece of history that's just been made.
Somehow this moment of handshakes seemed to officially mark the superiority of white power, at last. Hopefully the symbolic photo-moment will become reality.
Also an interesting detail the fresh approach of the First Lady who did not curtsey.
Perhaps the strict rules of the house have loosened up. But Ms Obama, as always, was herself: human and smiling. Something that seems to be widely lacking in the aristocracy as known so far. Time to move on.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/7975851.stm
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