When Fyre Festival went down in flames in April of 2017, comedian Ron Funches was among the many who showed no sympathy for those who got scammed by Ja Rule’s failed music festival in the Bahamas: “If you have thousands of dollars to go on a trip to see Blink 182, that’s on you,” he told Conan. “That is Darwinism at its finest.”

That’s the kind of schadenfreude that ran rampant after someone at the fest tweeted a photo of the world’s saddest sandwich. When Netflix announced that it was releasing a documentary about the fiasco, everyone got giddy again, no doubt imagining footage of social-media influencers huddling for warmth, contemplating cannibalism, and breaking down sobbing over inadequate thread counts.

(Courtesy of Netflix)

Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened hits Netflix Jan. 18, just days after today’s release of Fyre Fraud, a rival documentary, on Hulu. The Hulu doc, directed by Julia Willoughby Nason and Jenner Furst (Time: The Kalief Browder Story) benefits from access to Billy McFarland, who created the festival with Ja Rule. The Netflix doc, meanwhile, was produced in part by Jerry Media, the company that was hired to promote the festival.

Which one should you watch? Maybe both, depending on how often you can stomach seeing that revolting cheese sandwich.

If you’re in it to laugh at trustafarians having their trust violated, the Netflix doc doesn’t offer as much disaster-scene footage as you might expect. Instead director Chris Smith (Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond) has created one of the best studies of a narcissism-driven shitshow since Burden of Dreams, the documentary about the making of Fitzcarraldo. In that doc, director Werner Herzog completely ignored conventional wisdom as he tried to film on-location in the Amazon.

Just like Herzog, smirking entrepreneur Billy McFarland has utter faith in his vision as he conscripts hundreds of local workers— in this case, Bahamian day laborers who never got paid— into taming a forbidding terrain in a ridiculously inadequate amount of time. The difference, of course, is that Herzog somehow pulled it off and won Best Director at Cannes; McFarland failed spectacularly and was savaged on Twitter and sentenced to six years in federal prison.

Ja Rule and MacFarland. (Coutesy of Netflix)

Still, the parallels between the two projects are striking. At one point in Burden of Dreams, Herzog’s engineer resigns because he believes the director’s preferred method of getting a steamship over a ridge will likely get people killed. Herzog just proceeds without him. A similar fate befalls the project manager who tells McFarland that there aren’t adequate resources on Norman’s Cay, where the festival was originally going to be held (McFarland blew the deal by blabbing about how the island had supposedly once belonged to Pablo Escobar). After the project manager raises concerns about everything from plumbing to mosquitos, McFarland simply finds someone who can tell him what he wants to hear.

Though the filmmakers don’t get access to McFarland himself, they get a play-by-play from several Fyre employees, including a shell-shocked event producer who says McFarland talked him into blowing a customs officer for the release of truckloads of bottled water (lucky for him, he didn’t end up having to do the deed).

(Courtesy of Netflix)

As you watch footage of McFarland—looking like a tubby Seth MacFarlane, drink in hand at all times, at one point passed out on the beach like a frat boy on spring break—you have to wonder how these employees had so much faith in him that they ignored all of the red flags. His business model seems to be Fake It Till You Make It and his charisma seems limited to a perpetual smirk and a connection to rapper Ja Rule. (Their favorite toast is captured on film: “Here’s to living like movie stars, partying like rock stars, and fucking like porn stars.”)

What really makes Fyre different from Burden of Dreams is that it takes place in 2017, when social media is capable of sparking mass hysteria. At one point, as McFarland creepily tries to convince some supermodels to go running into the water after him, he explains to them, “We’re selling a pipe dream to the average loser.”

(Courtesy of Netflix)

Social media, of course, made it all too easy to sell that pipe dream. Kendall Jenner was reportedly paid $250,000 to post about the festival, and those models who appeared in the promo video were reportedly offered $35,000 each for publicizing it. Tickets sold out quickly, because who wouldn’t pay $9,000 to be able to brag about being on #PabloEscobarsPrivateIsland?

Sure, there’s some pleasure in watching “influencers” and bottle-service bros get catfished into hanging out in a glorified refugee camp, but it quickly evaporates when you realize that some of these shameless selfie-seekers ended up winning $5 million in a lawsuit while a Bahamian restaurateur who made the mistake of catering for Fyre lost some $50,000 of her life savings. Not to mention everyone also who got, well, burned. (The FBI said that at least 80 investors ponied up more than $24 million, and 30 victims paid a total of $150,000 for tickets that were either never received or weren’t what they paid for.)

Though the makers of the Hulu documentary, Fyre Fraud, were able to interview McFarland, he declines to talk about ongoing criminal proceedings, so we get more insight into his previous ventures– a credit card billed as the “Amex Black Card for millennials” that morphed into a sort of poor man’s Soho House– than we do into his production of the festival. He does, at one point, try to explain why festival attendees who rented wildly expensive villas ended up having to scurry for tents. Whereas Fyre‘s sources say that the villas simply never existed, McFarland tells Fyre Fraud that $2 million worth of housing did exist but a box of keys went missing. So why didn’t he tell people that at the time? McFarland has no answer.

Much of the footage shown in Fyre Fraud overlaps with Fyre, and it’s somewhat annoyingly supplemented with clips from The Simpsons, Family Guy, and such. That said, the Hulu doc does manage to get some unique footage of, for instance, Chanel Iman falling into a boat as she tries not to get bitten by a pig (the festival’s promo video featured models frolicking on Pig Island). Unfortunately, the filmmakers’ rolodex leans a little too heavily on media commentators who feel the need to explain the concept of FOMO. (Let’s face it, you don’t watch a documentary about Fyre Festival to be informed that “the millennial understanding of the world has been shaped by extreme precarity.”)

Perhaps because of the participation of Jerry Media, the marketing firm that helped produce the festival and now the Netflix documentary, Fyre serves as a more riveting moment-by-moment portrayal of how the festival unfolded– and unraveled (a soundtrack heavy on tunes by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross doesn’t hurt, either). But one has to wonder if Jerry Media got off easy as a result. Netflix has said that “at no time did [Jerry Media], or any others we worked with, request favorable coverage in our film, which would be against our ethics.” But when Jerry Media CEO Mick Purzycki is interviewed, he doesn’t exactly get his feet held to the proverbial fire about his role in hyping the fest.

Fyre Fraud, on the other hand, ends with a former Jerry Media employee being asked a simple question: “Who’s guilty?”

He thinks for a minute and responds: “Everyone.”

Updated Jan. 14, 5:30pm: This post was originally published as a review of Fyre; upon the release of Fyre Fraud, it was revised to include both films.

(Photos: Zach Filkoff)

Thrill-seekers rejoice! There’s a new high-stakes psychological immersive play in town, and the subject is none other than death and mortality. The Mortality Machine, by Sinking Ship Creations, takes place in a Canal Street basement where, as the story goes, five people died in 2014 as a consequence of a botched medical experiment. Soon after, the facility was closed off and the evidence was buried under countless legal documents. Five years later, a lawyer manages to get access to the basement, which sets the story in motion as participants investigate what exactly happened.

The experience comprises touring the laboratory where the unfortunate experiment took place, access to a “white room,” a meeting with a “psychopomp” (a sort of spirit guide), and learning a form of communication through dance. Light escape-room elements are also part of the play.

(Photos: Zach Filkoff)

If that seems vague, it’s intentional: “There is nothing scripted,” producer and writer Ryan Hart told Bedford + Bowery after the first preview night, when a group of “escape-room people” had moved the furniture all over the place, frantically searching for clues. “The big thing to remember is that every one of these [performances] is different. The other thing to remember about it is that it’s a 360-degree design.” This means that every element of the set design, from the ephemera scattered throughout the basement to the filing cabinets, are part of the experience. The only exception is a sprinkler, conveniently marked with an orange DO NOT TOUCH sign.

As soon as you enter the basement, you’re handed a 120-word character description. You can be, say, Mars McKinsey, who lost his fiancée Omi Johnson; or Irie Johnson, Omi Johnson’s aunt and a mother-like figure to her. Fear you don’t have enough LARPing chops? “It’s a minimal level of involvement,” Hart reassures. “We have a lot of stuff for people to do, which, in turn, is designed to turn back on other participants.”

Hart believes the format befits the subject of death and mortality. “The style of actual roleplay, with no division between the characters, the participants and the performers is very new in this artistic form,” he said. “If I wanted to stage a regular play about death, well, people have been writing about death for 3,000 years: what am I gonna add to the form?” All the difference is in the telling, and working in a medium that’s so new and so personal, it really lets us say “hey, we’re gonna take the topic and beat it head-on.”

As an atheist with no belief in the afterlife, Hart realized, in the early stages of productions, that the fact that his creative partners and associates didn’t necessarily share this view might open the experience to a wide variety of possibilities. “We tell people this experience is about you and we want all of the decisions to matter.” Based on what a participant believes, they can perceive it as a clinical or a supernatural experience.

Since there’s a high level of interaction between participants themselves and between participants and performers, where everyone is in character, three rules are given prior to entering the basement: no touching breasts, groin or bottoms; the hands-up technique, a don’t touch me gesture, which works both for performers and participants and a general remark regarding no violence, simulated or otherwise.

Related to this, no drinks are offered as part of the performance. “We like to drink, and drinking is good, but safety is a primary concern and we take it very seriously,” he said. Many people are new to LARPing and Ryan wants them to have a clear mind. Loosening up, he added, comes from the experience itself.

The Mortality Machine opens on January 15 at 59 Canal Street. Tickets here.

John Driscoll (image via Fridman Gallery / Facebook)

Slight Perturbations / The Weight of Things
Opening Wednesday, January 16 at Fridman Gallery, 6 pm to 8 pm. On view through February 13.

Fridman Gallery’s new space on Bowery has two levels, upper and lower. Fittingly, there will be two exhibitions opening there this Wednesday: a show of of interactive sound sculptures by John Driscoll in the upper space, and a two-channel video installation by Dana Levy centered around the Palace of Versailles in the lower space. Driscoll’s sculptures resemble hodgepodge collections of found objects or avant-garde furniture pieces crossed with a science fair, but they’re much more than something to puzzle over: they contain minuscule microphones and speakers, and a “reflective foil” that creates sound with help from whatever objects are nearby. And though it’s in the lower level, Levy’s video work deals with the upper crust of Versailles, depicting the palace’s contents steadily crumbling due to an earthquake.

Détourned
Opening Wednesday, January 16 at ABXY LES, 6 pm to 8 pm. On view through March 10.

Former private art world haven turned public gallery space Abxy will be opening a solo show of works by Melvin “Grave” Guzman, a multimedia artist from Harlem who predominantly utilizes found objects in his work. The objects aren’t just any old thing sitting in the street; they’re typically remnants of city life: posters, ticket stubs, ads, sometimes even entire awnings. They’re then arranged collage-style and modified with paint, typically from a spray can. While sure, this work shares a sensibility with the scrawled-on subway ads you see on the daily, it also feels like a lot more than that.

(image via Miyako Yoshinaga Gallery / Facebook)

I Can’t Sleep: Homage to a Uyghur Homeland
Opening Thursday, January 17 at Miyako Yoshinaga, 6 pm to 8 pm. On view through February 23. 

Americans dropping into a far-off land to document (and often exoticize) the cultures that exist there is still a common practice today. Artist Lisa Ross, however, has been familiarizing herself with the Chinese region of Xinjiang for over a decade. Xinjiang is home to the Uyghur people, an ethnic minority that has been experiencing what some call a “cultural genocide” at the hands of the Chinese government, including mysterious disappearances and detainment. Ross’s portraits of Uyghur individuals don’t amplify and exploit the trauma they’ve endured for a Western audience, but rather portray colorfully-dressed people of all ages sitting, laying, or playing on a variety of outdoor beds. However, hanging behind these photos is a backdrop of the artist’s Uyghur friend, who has also recently disappeared, serving as a reminder of the troubles that persist.

(Courtesy of Massage Williamsburg)

Federal employees are no doubt feeling the pain as the government shutdown enters its fourth week. But with that pain comes some perks; BAM Rose Cinema is offering free movie tickets to federal employees who are out of a paycheck, and national companies like AT&T are giving them a break on late fees.

Unfortunately, most of these deals are for DC-area residents. And yet New Yorkers have also been affected by the shutdown, even if Governor Cuomo took pains to keep the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island open. Among the local, government-funded sites that have closed are the National Museum of the American Indian, the Cooper Hewitt National Design Museum, and Theodore Roosevelt’s Birthplace in Gramercy. And that’s not all; New Yorkers have been warned that things like subway service could be affected if the shutdown goes on much longer.

Last week, a couple of dozen workers from the IRS, EPS, FBI and immigration departments marched in lower Manhattan to show they want to get back to work.

Clearly, the shutdown has been a source of stress for many New Yorkers, so a local chain of massage studios is stepping up to help those who’ve been rubbed the wrong way. Massage Williamsburg, Massage Greenpoint, and Massage Outpost, in Dumbo, are all offering free one-hour massages (a $120 value) to government workers who are out of a paycheck.

Rachel Beider, owner of the massage studios, says she’s offering the deal because “at the start of a new year people should be setting their intentions, relaxing, and making happy resolutions—not stressing over their next paycheck.” Furloughed workers and those working without pay can book through the studios’ websites or by calling them, and will be asked to present a government work ID upon arrival.

Rest assured, this isn’t one of those spartan basement joints with curtained-off tables. Each room boasts “soft flannel sheets, a table warmer that can be adjusted to your comfort, both scented and unscented massage oil of your choosing, a lavender eye pillow, lots of blankets, bolsters and pillows for your comfort,” according to the website. And while relaxing music will play during your massage, the studios promise “you won’t hear any pan flutes, chirping birds, or rain sounds.”

(Photo via governorandrewcuomo on/Flickr)

The MTA board of directors held a nearly three-hour-long “emergency meeting” today to discuss impending L train tunnel repairs and a sudden change in plans that has left New Yorkers—and even members of the board itself—reeling in confusion.

As you know, Governor Cuomo announced earlier this month that instead of a 15-long total shutdown of the Canarsie Tube to repair damage sustained during Hurricane Sandy, the MTA will close just one tunnel at a time during nights and weekends.

Many are celebrating the decision, made after a Cuomo-appointed team of engineering academics concluded, among other things, that the tunnel’s benchwall, which houses cables damaged by salt water during Superstorm Sandy, wouldn’t have to be replaced entirely; instead, cables could be suspended from the wall with a racking system.

But during the public hearing portion of today’s meeting, Lisa Dagnan of the Permanent Citizens Advisory Committee to the MTA said the new plan has resulted in “many more questions than answers.” In fact there’s so much mystery surrounding the current state of affairs that Manhattan Borough President said that the situation was “better than Law & Order, which we all watch on a daily basis, in terms of intrigue.”

Among the issues discussed was today’s New York Times report that five years ago, the MTA considered a plan similar to its current one and rejected it due to safety concerns about, among other things, cancer-causing silica dust.

Here are some of the questions that were raised during today’s board meeting, and the answers given by board members and project engineers. (If you’re a masochist, you can watch a recording of the whole shebang directly below.)

Is the L-train shutdown definitely off? Is the new plan definitely happening?
Some board members, including DOT commissioner Polly Tottenberg, wondered if the MTA was premature in announcing that the L train shutdown had been “averted,” as they put it in a press release. Acting MTA chair Fernando Ferrer would only say that “a third-party team will be engaged to report to the board and me— all of us—on what the best path forward is. We have to do that relatively quickly.”

Trottenberg asked, “So if the [MTA] sign says ‘shutdown averted,’ it should have a footnote that says ‘Subject to board approval?’” Ferrer’s answer was inaudible, since he had turned off his microphone. It seems that even members of the MTA board are still confused about whether or not they have veto power over the new plan being pushed by Cuomo.

Will someone other than the MTA and Cuomo’s team of academics weigh in on the plan?
Benjamin Solotaire— a member of the L Train Coalition representing businesses and residents of Williamsburg, Bushwick and beyond— said the coalition wants to see “an independent engineering firm weigh in on the plan and evaluate the safety for the public.” Ferrer announced that, indeed, “a new third party consultant will be engaged to report to the MTA board, coordinate the construction with the ongoing train operations and make sure the transition from construction to operation is seamless.” The independent consultant, to be chosen by the board, will also make sure safety and environmental standards are observed.

What will happen with the current mitigation plan calling for more trains, ferries and the like?
Solotaire also said the L Train Coalition wants to see “serious consideration of all the proposed transit changes that were part of the original [15-month shutdown] plan including new bike lanes, Citi Bike expansion, new ferry service, the expanded and improved subway service, and Select Bus Service”— a view shared by City Council member Antonio Reynoso, whose district includes parts of Williamsburg and Bushwick.

MTA managing director Veronique Hakim, who will be overseeing the new plan’s implementation, said plans for additional transportation are still in flux: “We will absolutely have to do our ridership information, look at that, work with city DOT on what becomes a revision to an alternate service plan, see what’s needed,” she said. “And that’s the idea, is to put service where we need it.”

In the 2014 report obtained by the Times, engineers at Parsons Brinckerhoff (now, WSP, the firm overseeing the new plan) said that mounting cables to the tunnel wall instead of burying them inside of it would spread potentially cancer-causing silica dust. Is this no longer the case?
Jerry Janetti, senior vice president at WSP, said that the new plan is “not similar to plans that were done earlier or reviewed.” He said that whereas the plan reviewed in 2014 called for cables to be fixed to the tunnel with 50,000 individual bolts, the new one called for “40% or less” that number of bolts.

Whereas a previous proposal would have removed the entire bench wall that houses damaged cables, Janetti said that, under the new plan, at least 60 percent of the bench wall has been deemed good enough to remain as is. The remaining 40 percent will either have to be removed, or strengthened with FRP (Fibre-reinforced plastic, which was used in the 7-line extension to Hudson Yards), cementitious materials, or steel bars. The damaged walls are currently being evaluated so that a specific plan of attack can be put into place.

The 2014 report worried that “excessive anchor bolt penetrations for installing critical cables may damage the concrete lining and induce leakages.” Is that no longer the case?
Janetti said that a fiber-optic sensor system to be installed along the tunnel’s bench wall will detect any dangerous cracks or shifts. He also said the bolts that will be used aren’t long enough to cause damage. “The bolts that we’re talking about are in the 3.5- to 4-inch range,” he said. “The thickness of the [tunnel wall’s] concrete liner is in the 10-inch range, which gives us fair distance between the end of the bolt and the edge of the cast-iron lining [that holds the tunnel together].”

Is the Times correct that both the current and previously rejected plan “call for mounting heavy cables”?
Abrahams, of WSP, said the that “the concept that we’re supporting a very heavy load on the tunnel wall is rather misleading”; he said the heaviest cables (the power cables) constituted a “very low load” and other cables were “very, very lightweight.”

With power and communications cables exposed rather than buried in the tunnel wall, will terrorists or vandals have easy access to them?
Ferrer said no, the new fiber-optic sensor system would “give us an ability to see if someone unauthorized is in the area” and essentially serve as an intruder alert.

Will the silica dust be cleared from the tunnel in time for the morning rush hour? How?
MTA president Patrick Foye noted that the silica-producing bench wall removal will be conducted over the weekends, not during weekday nights. Warren Goodman, Director of Health Safety and Environment at Judlah Contracting, which is executing the project with WSP, said they’ll develop a plan where workers dressed in protective gear, and perhaps armed with HEPA vacuums, will “clean as they go and then set aside some time at the end of the shift to do additional cleaning.”

Board member Susan G. Metzger noted that “you don’t know how much silica you’re going to be dealing with,” since it’s still unknown exactly how much of the bench wall will need to be removed or repaired. DOT commissioner Polly Trottenberg also cautioned against being overly optimistic, noting that “when you start pulling away concrete, boy, you start finding things underneath.”

Had the racking system been previously considered?
At one point Trottenberg quipped, “I have bookshelves in my house, so it’s not like the concept of a rack is an exotic one. Did no one look at it [in 2014]?” Janetti responded, “There was no racking system that was evaluated at that time that I’m aware of.”

The MTA has been touting the pros of the new plan. What are the cons?
Mike Abrahams of WSP admitted that “it certainly would have been advantageous for long-term service life to completely tear out the duct banks [that concrete liners that house the damaged cables] and completely replace them… Not completely replacing the duct banks and only removing certain portions of it, reinforcing certain portions, and leaving certain portions in place, that is not as advantageous as a complete replacement.”

How long will the repairs take?
This is still up in the air. MTA managing director Veronique Hakim said that the agency is currently conducting a “review of schedule.” She said “the original comments when the new approach was first discussed with the academic team was something between 15 and 20 months, but we obviously have to validate that.”

How long will the repairs last?
Cuomo’s team of experts have said they could last 40 to 50 years. Ferrer and others echoed that number but stressed that it depended on proper maintenance and whether or not another catastrophic event such as Sandy occurs.

Why didn’t the MTA get these options sooner? Why were they only suggested by a team of academics appointed by Governor Cuomo?
Ferrer didn’t explain this, but voiced frustration over it. “We should have been hearing this from people we pay, whether they are engineering consultants, engineers, or whatever,” he said, adding that he was “still enormously upset that we didn’t hear about a lot of this before.”

WEDNESDAY

(image via Drunk Education / Facebook)

Drunk Education: Roasts of ‘Great’ Literary Men
Wednesday, January 16 at Housing Works Bookstore Cafe, 7 pm: FREE

The books you read in school growing up (and maybe even now) were most likely written by (white) men, save for a few exceptions. There were plenty of opportunities to discuss this work, usually mandatory, but most of the time this involved parsing through the analytical layers of it all, marveling at what a multifaceted creation had come into existence at the hands of these men. Wednesday’s Drunk Education is a little different. Notable literary men will be the central topic, yes, but they’ll be roasted by three women writers (Rolling Stone’s Brittany Spanos, Observer’s Helen Holmes, and freelancer Becca Schuh) until nothing is left but some charred remains.

THURSDAY

(image via SPACE / Facebook)

Space Comedy Show
Thursday, January 17 at Mad Tropical, 8 pm: FREE

Though it’s a pretty ordinary word, all things considered, “space” does in fact contain multitudes. It could mean outer space, a room, a venue, something you want or dread a partner expressing desire for, the list goes on. In this case, it’s a queer comedy show hosted by Andrés Govea, Kendall Payne, and Walter Kelly. It’s also ostensibly a safe space, in the non-annoying/condescending meaning of the word, for LGBTQ performers of all stripes to take to the stage and maybe even defy gravity with their jokes. This month, the trio of hosts will welcome performers Charlie Bardey, Lorelei Ramirez, Jess Henderson, and Solange Azor.

FRIDAY

(image via Zach Zimmerman / Facebook)

100 People in a Room
Friday, January 18 at Hub Seventeen, 8 pm: $1-20

As you might have heard, Lady Gaga has said, “There could be 100 people in a room, and 99 don’t believe in you, but I had this one incredible talent with me.” She’s talking about Bradley Cooper, and while I have trouble believing that many people in a room wouldn’t believe in such a successful performer, she was very intent on making sure everyone knew this. She said it a lot, and people noticed. One of those people was comedian Zach Zimmerman, who will be hosting a comedy variety show on Friday with one main goal: to get 100 people in a room. Exactly 100 tickets will be sold, with randomly generated prices ranging from $10 to $20. Once these people are gathered, there will be performances by the likes of comedians Tessa Skara and Alex Song, drag performer Ruby Fox, and more. But the most important part? The 100 people in a room. Well, and the fact that you get a free drink with your ticket.

SATURDAY

(image via Emi Grate / Facebook)

A+, The Pan-Asian Drag Revue
Saturday, January 19 at Bedlam Bar, 8 pm: $10

Drag performer Emi Grate’s recurring showcase of Asian drag performers, A+, returns once more to Bedlam, bringing with it a diverse array of queer performers from across the Asian diaspora giving you shows, shows, shows. Kiko Soirée hosts, and the lineup includes Sina, the nicely-named Virginia Thicc, Queen Kirlia, Sex Wolf, and Emi Grate herself. And unlike the drag shows that don’t kick off until midnight or later, this show is at a modest 8pm, giving both those who typically go to bed early and people who want to attend three late-night parties after seeing a show a chance to get in on the fun.

Also performing were DJ gooddroid, rapper S’natra, indie rockers Small Black and soul band Phony Ppl, but clearly the main draw was Brooklyn’s favorite indie duo. Before their set, the crowd mostly mingled in Avant Gardner’s cavernous Great Hall, where sample cans of Blue Point’s new core beer, The IPA, were paired with food from Eddie’s Pizza, Takumi Tacos and Twin Greeks.

By the time of the main attraction, day-drinking energy abounded, and Matt and Kim fed that energy right back to the crowd as they tore through a non-stop set that included their big hits “Daylight” and “Good Ol’ Fashion Nightmare” in addition to “Like I Used To Be” from their latest album Almost Everyday, plus a cover of Van Halen’s “Jump.” Throughout the show confetti rained down on the sweaty audience; when the fans started to crowd-surf, they were joined by sea of blow-up dolls.

Click through our slideshow to see the action.

Matt and Kim

Attendees waiting on line out side Avant Gardner.

Small Black performing.

Audience group photo at the end of the show.

Matt and Kim

DJ Gooddriods warming up the audience.

Audience members holding up one of the blow-up dolls.

Matt and Kim

Attendees waiting for food from the Eddie's Pizza and Twin Greeks food trucks.

Matt and Kim

S'natra performing.

Matt and Kim

Matt and Kim

Phony Ppl performing.

Matt and Kim

Photos by Manny Tatkieto and Nick McManus.

A behind-the-scenes shot by Curtis Endicott.

Through countless interviews with oft-overlooked residents of Tucson, Arizona, Brian Jabas Smith and Maggie Smith have crafted beautiful tales of sadness. This weekend, they’ll bring their book and accompanying documentary, both titled Tucson Salvage, to Manhattan and Brooklyn.

“We’re bringing people’s stories, and often they’re people who aren’t upwardly mobile themselves,” Maggie says. “For them to get to tell their stories in their own words and to be the shepherd of that and take it to other people is very moving.”

(Tuscon Salvage still by Tim Gillis)

Author Brian and his wife, filmmaker Maggie, offer powerful glimpses into the lives of Tucson residents, casting a light on their whole lives. Tales of homelessness, drug addiction, gang violence and assault haunt both the film and book, transcending time and location to remind readers and viewers that this is the landscape of many, many Americans.

“People tend to emerge on the other side with some wisdom, having gone through something so challenging, even prison. Those are my favorite people,” Brian says.

Tucson Salvage still shot by Curtis Endicott)

The duo is extremely careful not to use Tucson Salvage to exploit sadness for a captivating story. “This kind of writing is observation without judgment,” Brian says. “It’s letting people just be themselves, good or bad. That’s where the beauty is.”  

Brian Jabas Smith is an award-winning author and journalist with bylines in the Phoenix New Times and Detroit Metro Times, and the essays and stories from his book came from his column in the Tucson Weekly. But, in another life, he overcame crystal meth and alcohol addictions, was a childhood bike racer, and fronted rock-and-roll bands while writing songs with legends like Alice Cooper. The book is a silent confirmation of the idea that, because Jabas Smith has lived so many lives of his own, it’s easy for him to perfectly capture the minute details of other people’s lives.

Tucson Salvage still shot by by Tim Gillis.

Maggie Smith has lived in many cities across the US, and her career has seen her adapt, co-write and executive produce the 12-episode web series that accompanied Brian’s short-story collection, Spent Saints & Other Stories. The two currently have three feature films in development, and Maggie is working on a novel that will be out soon. Tucson Salvage is a half hour exploration of five of the characters in Brian’s book. The on-screen interviews with two men, two women and a transgender person from the book are intended to complement the novel’s release. “Seeing them come to life is really powerful,” Maggie says. “It provides a whole new perspective.”

Tucson Salvage still shot by Tim Gillis.

After simultaneously releasing the book and film in November in London, Brian and Maggie kick off the American leg of the promotional tour with a two-night stint in New York City. Friday evening, an event at Bowery Electric will include readings by Jabas Smith and poet Jeanann Verlee, and appearances from musicians June Pierce, Silk Cut, Soul Cake, Puma Perl, Joe Sztabnik and Rick Eckerle. Saturday, the Tucson Salvage tour will be at powerHOUSE Books in Dumbo, from 6-8pm; the festivities will include a longer reading from Jabas Smith and a screening of the film.

The two will continue to tour across America in the following months, bringing familiar tales of beautiful sadness to every city they stop in.

While both events are free, the Saturday event in Brooklyn requires an RSVP.

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

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(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photos: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

(Photo: Scott Lynch)

Trump is still in office, and the patriarchy is not yet smashed, so for the third January in a row the streets of NYC filled with thousands of angry women and their equally angry male allies. And despite a fracturing of the Women’s March movement into three separate events on Saturday, the rally and march on the Upper West Side and Midtown drew an impressive crowd, with protesters thick on the broad avenues into the afternoon.

As seems likely to be the case for many years to come, Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was greeted like a rock star when she showed up at the beginning of the day, and gave a brief but rousing speech promising that she will continue to push for real change. “Last year we brought the power to the polls,” she said, “and this year we need to make sure that we translate that power into policies.”

The women Samba drummers of Fogo Azul turned out in force, leading the march from Columbus Circle across 59th Street and down Sixth Avenue to Bryant Park. There were clever signs, pissed-off chants, lots of circa-2017 pussy hats, and plenty of politically-energized teenagers and young women who are coming of age in era of Trump. The NYPD set up barricades everywhere but stood on the sidelines for most of the day.

A large plate at The Suya Guy. (Photos: Nandini Rathi)

Hema Agwu, who grew up in Lagos, Nigeria, has found a flamboyant way of bringing the taste of his country to New York. The 29-year-old self-taught chef serves suya — a roasted skewer meat relished in the streets of Nigeria — at The Suya Guy. After making an initial appearance last November as a pop-up in Crown Heights, the eatery is back – permanently.

Marinated with a house-made hot spice blend, the tender meat is presented with colorful seasonal vegetables and a final sprinkling of the suya spice, which Agwu performs with a showman’s flourish. The end result, he claims, leaves even those who resist spicy food asking for more.

The Nigerian community in the U.S. has been growing quickly and is significantly concentrated in Texas and New York. They also constitute one of the most educated ethnic groups, according to a 2017 Census Bureau report. In spite of the size and upward mobility of the community, however, Nigerian food hasn’t made a splash in the New York food scene and has stayed relatively under wraps for most people outside West African communities.

Hema Agwu (right) with business partner Folusho Adeyemo

New York City, according to census data, has 23,530 foreign-born Nigerians, although the community count becomes much higher when Nigerian-Americans are included. However, there is no Nigerian restaurant yet in Manhattan; the eateries have kept to Brooklyn and Queens, where the community is residentially concentrated.

“There were always Nigerian restaurants in New York, but they were not places where you can take friends because they were mostly ‘hole in the wall’,” says Lookman Mashood, chef and owner of Buka, a Nigerian restaurant in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn. Before Mashood opened Buka in 2010, he says, he only remembers one restaurant near JFK Airport where people could be seated and entertained in groups.

Despite Nigerians being the most numerous among West Africans in the US, it is Senegalese cuisine that seems to have a somewhat greater visibility. Although there are many similarities among the region’s food cultures, Nigerian food also has its distinctions. “There is a common thread in all of Africa, but Nigerian food is unique because we like powerful flavors,” Agwu says. “So, if we have pepper, it is a very strong pepper flavor.”

Lookman Mashood with his staff at Buka.

“The food from Nigeria is very authentic – what many people would consider spicy but not your average spicy – it is spicier than the average spicy to be what people are used to. We eat a lot of goat and fish and snail,” says Mashood, who, like Agwu, was raised in Lagos and who moved to the U.S. in 1996.

One important difference between African cuisines is the effects of colonization. Mashood says that, in Senegal and much of Francophone West Africa, there is a lot more French culinary influence on the local cuisine. Whereas in Nigeria and Ghana, he says, the British colonizers did not interfere as much with the local cuisine and the food stayed authentic to old ways.

To be sure, Nigerian cuisine in itself is no uniform monolith. As a highly diverse country of more than 250 different cultural and ethnic groups, all of which have their own unique twists on regional dishes, Nigerian food, too, has remarkable variations, especially depending on the availability of ingredients in a particular region.

“Part of the reason why I chose suya and why I started to make my own spice is because it is very important to Nigerians. When anybody sees suya, nobody talks about where you are from in the country,” says Agwu, who felt he wanted “really good suya” but couldn’t find it in New York.

Suya, which is sometimes also referred to as “African shish kebab,” originated in northern Nigeria but became popular throughout the country. The meat used is typically beef and often halal due to its origin in the north, where most of the country’s Muslim population lives. The annatto-colored spice marinade is made by grinding roasted peanuts with ingredients such as cayenne, pepper, dried garlic, dried ginger and dried onion.

The Suya Guy innovates on this traditional favorite. Each bowl in his restaurant starts with a base of a few spoonfuls of fried or jollof rice and layered with seasonal vegetables such as bell peppers, cucumbers, avocados, tomatoes, onions and cabbage, followed by seasoning. The suya-marinated grilled beef or chicken or eggplant is then layered on top and sprinkled again with a version of the spice. Strewn with housemade traditional tomato and bell pepper sauce, the bowl is completed with grilled sweet plantain laid on top.

“The experience you get when you have one of these bowls is that you get everything – a mix of flavors – when you taste the suya. It is a really unique mix. It is an experience – you don’t get the same bite twice,” says Agwu.

When asked why it has taken Nigerians time to bring their cuisine out in the open, Agwu laughs, replying, “Maybe they were too busy being doctors and lawyers.” Before he decided to work with food full time, Agwu had earned a bachelor’s degree in politics from the State University of New York in Albany and taken an LSAT exam. His family moved to Long Island, N.Y. from Nigeria when he was in high school, for education reasons, he says. “I think there has been a lack of entrepreneurship in the Nigerian diaspora and it is just beginning to come out. I think there are a lot of chefs (like me) who didn’t feel in the past that our food was wanted.”

Observers in academia echo this idea. “Nigerians are really proud of their culture,” says Elisha Renne, a professor of Anthropology and African Studies at University of Michigan. “They don’t really care if Americans like their food. There is a sense that it is for them.” A part of the reason, she says, could also be that a sizable portion of Nigerian immigrants in the U.S. are English-speaking skilled professionals who do not join the restaurant industry, which historically has been immigrant-driven in the U.S. due to its low barriers of entry and also, therefore, championed by immigrant entrepreneurs.

In October, New York had its sixth annual African restaurants week featuring events around traditional African and Afro-fusion cultural and gastronomical experiences around the city in 25 restaurants.

Nigerians favor bold and spicy flavors, with a hint of surprise, and this is not limited to food. “Look at our fashion or even our music,” says Mashood. “In Africa, wax prints are the most popular – they are very flowery, they are very colorful. An African would be dressed very colorfully.” He beatboxes a vigorous Afrobeat. “So is our food – you don’t just grill some meat with flavors on top and put it on my plate. No. I have to feel the taste even in between the meat.”

“I think there is just a level of curiosity with African cuisine and Nigerian cuisine. There is also just people who want food. It is food and fantastic food,” says Agwu.

When asked why Nigerian cuisine is opening up to New Yorkers now, Agwu, too, sees a direct connection with the rise of Nigerian fashion globally, the growing prominence of Afrobeat in the mainstream music industry and space carved in the literary world by African writers and poets. It was only a matter of time, he feels, until the other arts, including the culinary one, followed suit. “The presence of African cuisine in New York is definitely on the upward – I see a lot more restaurants, a lot more chefs doing a lot more creative stuff,” he added. “African cuisine is sort of buzzing and I just hope to make it bigger.”

Agwu, along with his business partner Folusho Adeyema, is now busy refurbishing The Suya Guy, which re-opened January 17. Mashood, meanwhile, has plans to open a Manhattan outpost of Buka in Harlem by mid-year.

(Photos courtesy of Upside Pizza)

We recently noted that the “Rhode Island-style pizza” coming to the East Village wasn’t, in fact, the focaccia-style rectangular pies so ubiquitous in the state. If that was a bummer, well, take heart: two new purveyors of crusty, square, sauce-forward slices just opened in Manhattan. They’re specializing, specifically, in upside-down pies.

First up, the folks behind Sauce restaurant have opened the second outpost of their spin-off, Sauce Pizzeria. The East Village location opened in September at 345 East 12th Street, and now there’s a Lower East Side one at 184 Rivington Street, right next to Sauce restaurant. In addition to the original pizzeria’s thin-crust slices, meant to be dunked in various tomato sauces, the LES shop is offering some new square pies made with dough that mixes mashed potato into the flour. The upside-down pie layers tomato sauce over the mozz, and also includes pecorino, Sicilian oregano, and breadcrumbs. There are also right-side-up square pies topped with pepperoni, sausage, or vodka sauce.

Also new on the square scene is Upside Pizza, which just opened in the Garment District at 598 Eighth Avenue, at 30th Street. Much like Sauce Pizzeria, which has a hip-hop-heavy playlist and portraits of rappers on the walls, this one is “inspired by growing up in the ‘90s, when nothing mattered more than sports, hip hop and great pizza,” according to the press release.

As you can see above, the branding is a little Saved by the Bell, but the brick-oven pizza, made with unleavened dough, promises to better than what Zack and Kelly were served at The Max. It was created in consultation with Anthony Falco, the Williamsburg-based former “pizza czar” at Roberta’s. The upside-down pie is a two-inch-think Sicilian called the Upside Don. It features mozzarella, tomato sauce, breadcrumbs, oregano, parmesan, and olive oil. There’s also a The Wire-inspired Fuzzy Dunlop, topped with pickled chili peppers and sausage.

Neither of these things are quite Rhode Island pizza strips, but that’s probably a good thing.

“Andy Warhol, Self Portrait, 1986” Image credit: Courtesy Andy Warhol Foundation for Visual Arts/ Artists Rights Society (ARS)

Andy Warhol: By Hand, Drawings 1950s-1980s
Opening Tuesday, January 22 at New York Academy of Art, 6 pm to 8 pm. On view through March 10.

Most people know Andy Warhol by his colorful printed pop art creations, films, and tendency to bring together some of the city’s most intriguing artists, writers, socialites, and drag performers. Or perhaps his associations with The Velvet Underground or Interview magazine come to mind. But Warhol also made drawings—he started out as a commercial illustrator—and you can see a selection of them created over the course of 30 years in a new exhibition at the New York Academy of Art. Rather than the bold shades of Warhol works like the iconic painting Campbell’s Soup Cans, these drawings are more minimal, often featuring nothing more than a pencil and paper. If you’ve already seen the sprawling Whitney retrospective, here’s a chance to see the artist in a new light.

© Clarissa Bonet, “On the Edge,” 2015, Archival pigment print. Courtesy of Catherine Edelman Gallery. (image via ClampArt / Facebook)

The City (And A Few Lonely People)
Opening Thursday, January 24 at ClampArt, 6 pm to 8 pm. On view through March 9.

Some exhibition titles are symbolic, but ClampArt’s latest offering The City (And A Few Lonely People) is fairly straightforward in what it offers. Indeed, this group show does in fact feature images of cities as well as images of people, who we presume to be lonely, just as well all tend to be from time to time. The list of participating artists is fairly starry: Nan Goldin, David Wojnarowicz, Diane Arbus, and Larry Clark are just a handful of many. Inspired by Olivia Laing’s 2016 book The Lonely City, which details the solitude that springs from a move to New York City from London, the exhibition is a collection of photography that delves into “isolation within urban spaces,” a feeling sure to be familiar to many.

Robert Mapplethorpe
Ajitto, 1981
Gelatin silver print, 45.6 x 35.6 cm
Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York
Gift, The Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation 95.4322
© Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation. Used by permission.

Implicit Tensions: Mapplethorpe Now
Opening Friday. January 25 at Guggenheim Museum. On view through July 10.

Though the Guggenheim is a bit of a trek for those not already living uptown, the spiral-shaped museum has been home to some gems lately, including the buzzed-about show of mystical, large-scale paintings by Hilma af Klint. The museum’s next move also involves an artist from the past, but one with a bit more of a reputation: Robert Mapplethorpe. The controversial, sexually groundbreaking, and influential artist will be the subject of a two-part retrospective, one on view starting this week through early July and the second spanning from late July to January of 2020. This first portion features Mapplethorpe’s earlier works, including Polaroids, self-portraits, collages, portraits both nude and clothed, and snapshots of the city’s BDSM community.

(image via WAH Center)

20th Annual WAH Salon Show
Opening Saturday, January 26 at The Williamsburg Art and Historical Center, 4 pm to 6 pm. On view through February 17.

Tucked away near the Williamsburg Bridge is the Williamsburg Art and Historical Center, a nonprofit cultural center founded in 1996, back before people were clamoring to live in the neighborhood. For the past two decades, they’ve been exhibiting an annual salon show, which showcases artists of all levels and mediums. Their 20th annual salon show opens this Saturday, featuring over 50 artists. And it’s fitting the WAH Center is located near a bridge, as its philosophy hinges on what founder Yuko Nii calls the “Bridge Concept,” which seeks to unite artists no matter their location, discipline, skill level, or nationality.

When he immortalized the words “spring break forever,” he meant it. The red-band trailer for Harmony Korine’s The Beach Bum just landed, and it finds the director of Spring Breakers once again plumbing the soul of Florida Man, humanity’s ne plus ultra of low-rent debauchery and depravity. In this case, in lieu of James Franco’s Alien, we have Matthew McConaughey as Moondog, described as a “rebellious burnout who always lives life by his own rules.” Basically, he’s a turnt Big Lebowski.

There’s so much going on in this new trailer, it practically screams “LOOK AT MY SHIT.” Observe:

1. Moondog engaging in “poetic foreplay”
2. Moondog riding a speedboat named Moondog
3. Moondog feeding PBR to a kitten
4. A machine-gun-wielding Martin Lawrence feeding cocaine to a parrot
5. Snoop Dogg, dressed in a Jimi Hendrix jacket, admiring Moondog in a thong
6. Moondog wearing a gas-mask bong on a tennis court
7. Moondog bellyflopping into a pool with a baseball bat
8. Moondog smashing an open-air piano (a Spring Breakers reprise?) with a baseball bat
9. Moondog driving a lime-green Lamborghini
10. Moondog and Snoop driving an Auburn Speedster Supercharged
11. Moondog flying with a blind and high Rastafarian pilot on Chronic Aviation airlines
12. Moondog and Jimmy Buffet drinking and smoking cigars in the pool while Mr. Margaritaville gets his shoulders rubbed by a half-naked woman
13. Zac Efron with a beard that… well, it can’t really be explained.

The Beach Bum hits theaters March 29. Before that, it’ll premiere at SXSW. After watching the trailer below, you may just want to charter a Chronic Aviation flight down to Austin.

When Governor Cuomo talked about the “toxic cocktail” inside of the L-train tunnel, he definitely wasn’t talking about the hot new drink. But, go figure, there’s now an L-shutdown-themed beer.

The new brew, dubbed What the L?, will be launched by Blue Point, the brewing company that just threw a free Matt and Kim show at Avant Gardner. In April, they’ll give even more love to Williamsburg– the neighborhood where Vice’s Old Blue Last was born— with a helles-style, 5.2-percent-ABV lager.

If the label art looks familiar, it’s because it was designed by Winston Tseng, the graphic designer who put up those fake “Your Train Is Delayed” posters in the Bleecker Street subway station. He’s also the guy who trolled Trumpers by wrapping an East Village garbage bin in a “KEEP NYC TRASH FEE” PSA.

According to a press release, What the L? was originally meant “to bring relief to New Yorkers during the 15-month shutdown, but at this point we’re here for New Yorkers to commiserate on what the L is going on!”

Of course, there’s no drinking on MTA trains or in subway stations. But with the Times saying riders are stuck in transportation purgatory” and the Post saying that a new MTA mitigation plan amounts to straphanger hell” (Cuomo says the plan seen by the Post is out of date), you’ll probably want to brown-bag it.

THURSDAY

(image via The Nova Experiment / Facebook)

EthnoGraphic
Thursday, January 24 at Eris Evolution, 8 pm: $11 advance, $15 doors

The average show in Brooklyn—comedy, burlesque, music, and beyond—seems to have gotten a touch more diverse in recent years, but it’s still common to walk into a venue and see predominantly white faces staring back. That’s not the case at burlesque performer Stella Nova’s EthnoGraphic, a variety show featuring exclusively performers of color. As Nova does burlesque herself, the lineup is filled with striptease and pasties, with acts from Abby Fantastic, Fox Squire, and Lady Mabuhay, as well as slam poet Omar Holman and comedian Lauren Clark.

FRIDAY

(image via A Modest Proposal / Facebook)

A Modest Proposal
January 25-27 at Cherry Lane Theater, 7 pm: $25 ($15 for students and seniors)

Yes, this new play by Anna Jastrzembski shares a title with Jonathan Swift’s centuries-old satirical essay about eating babies you probably read in a high school English class, but it’s not about that. It is, however, about something equally (if not more) chilling: a futuristic, utopian society where no one grows old. This sounds good in theory, until you learn that there’s a darker side (and isn’t there always?): personal freedom is restricted, population is controlled, and government-encouraged suicide is the norm. Cool! Maybe you’ll leave the theater feeling slightly less bleak about the current real hellscape we live in, though I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

SATURDAY

Devin Kenny performing for Revenge Body Politics at the Goethe Institut, 2018. Photo by Aaron Rhodan (image via High Line Art / Facebook)

C.R.E.A.M.
Saturday, January 26 at The Kitchen, 4 pm: FREE 

Cash rules everything around me, or so the Wu-Tang Clan says. And how could you deny it? Ruminate upon the matter at an afternoon of performances, readings, and music curated by Sable Elyse Smith, who is currently exhibiting a sculpture of the same name over at the High Line nearby, and will also release a book of writing and poetry by the same name. As for the live show, expect dives into Wu-Tang’s musical influences, how economic interests often work against the well-being of black communities, and more. The event is currently sold out of RSVPs, but a wait list will form the day of, and you know not everyone who RSVPs for a free show is going to actually attend.

SUNDAY

(image via Newlesque / Facebook)

Newlesque: Winter Wonderland
Sunday, January 27 at Arlene’s Grocery, 9 pm: $10 

Burlesque acts have to start somewhere. For some performers, they start at Newlesque, an aptly-named showcase of burlesque acts that are new or in-development. Unlike a script or a novel, which can be drafted and rewritten in the solitude of one’s bedroom, a burlesque act requires an audience to truly gauge its success. And you can help do just that, as Dickie Smalls, Bitsy Burlee, Scarlett Cerise, Anna Shevitz, Rita N. Wink, Dominant Jeane, Immodesty Rose, Regal Mortis, Jeane Harlot, Kizzy Lewdlow, and Désirée De Sade strut their stuff and take it off.

Walter Markham Jr., an artist and employee of the city’s Department of Parks, has lived in a cheerful five-floor walk-up just south of Prospect Park since 2006. One afternoon a few years ago, a carbon monoxide alarm went off in his apartment, so he called the FDNY. Soon afterwards, they rapped on his door, which he opened for them.

“They started to walk in, but they looked into my studio and backed out into the hallway,” Markham recalled. “The one with the meter just kind of stuck his arm into the room and was like, ‘Yep looks great thanks,’ and left.”

Markham is familiar with this type of response from people popping in for their first time. Since being priced out of an art studio six years ago, his apartment has morphed into a de facto workshop and warehouse for his series of giant mixed-media sculptures, up to 10 feet tall, that he refers to as totems. His apartment has effectively been eaten alive by his work. It’s violent and it’s scary, but it’s also intoxicating and suitable for small children.

There are 24 of the towers in the series, titled “Guardians of the Finite Province of Meaning,” but in the confines of his living room it feels like 24 dozen; they create their own psychic micro-climate.

The arboreal tableau, four floors above Ocean Avenue, brings to mind the 1957 novel The Baron in the Trees, by Italo Calvino, where the protagonist flees his home to live in the forest. In Markham’s case, however, the forest is coming from inside the house.

Elaborating on the series, Markham said the sculptures are about the creative process, and about how visual work is described.

“The materials I use – graphite, paper, chalk – are precursors to using language to describe the sculptures. The totems are about how we apply language to visual forms,” Markham explained, bouncing fluently between references to the psychoanalytic theorist D.W. Winnicott and the Peanuts comic strip, specifically Linus’s blanket.

In addition to those materials, the sculptures incorporate masks, crayons, and cannibalized bits of Markham’s paintings, which reflect abstract expressionist and minimalist influences.

Once the initial art-induced shock wears off, the conversation turns inevitably toward the fate of the works. Markham, who holds an MFA from the Art Institute of Chicago, understandably hopes the work can be seen by a larger audience, and in larger spaces that are not his apartment. He has previously exhibited work in group shows at the Palazzo Mora in Venice, Italy, and at BricArtsMedia in Brooklyn.

While the prospect of seeing the series broken up and relocated may engender feelings of grief, panic, or rage among some visitors, this is the desired outcome. “Guardians” is not a site-specific installation, it just plays one on TV. While there is no reason the series couldn’t be shown en bloc, each tower is intended to be a distinct sculpture.

Like many artists, however, Markham is more enthusiastic about making the work than marketing it. He is not given to schmoozing with art-world grandees.

“I struggle with it. I’m just not the kind of guy who loves going to openings and chatting up dealers.”

These sentiments track with Markham’s somewhat spartan lifestyle, which sees him leave his apartment at 5:15 a.m. five days a week for Fort Tryon Park, where he works. His family has been supportive of Markham’s career and offered to subsidize another art studio, but he turned down the assistance.

There is, hovering over his apartment, the faint suggestion of a monastery. In lieu of a couch, Markham’s living room sports a reclining, bench-like car seat, a three-legged stool, and a wobbly computer stand hidden among the sculptures.

After years of cohabitation with his totems, Markham is content to operate on his apartment’s peripheries. His bedroom is tucked into the back of the apartment, like a tonsil, and he prepares his meals in a kitchen that doubles as a library.

These ascetic circumstances aside, Markham is not a shut-in. He has launched another project, the Crayon Self-Portraits Library, which invites artists to create self-portraits using only wax crayons. Over 40 artists have submitted portraits, many of which can be viewed here.

In short, Walter Markham is doing what New York City artists have been doing to get by for generations: hustling, adapting, traumatizing local firefighters – all in the name of creating work that shocks, inspires, and delights those who see it.

Stephen Kosloff is a freelance writer and photographer. He is working on a novel and reviews books on the sly at groceryleadership.space.

Jon Solo at his home studio. (Photo: Media Scheme)

We all have those musician friends we never hear from until their band is pulling a gig that starts at 2 a.m. in Bed Stuy. That person who is in their sixth band since moving to New York and “this is the one.” The bartender who is “really a musician.” Jon Solo is not one of those guys.

If you happen to bump into him in Brooklyn when he isn’t touring, you might not know he’s a musician (his mustache/chivito doesn’t really count as a beard in these parts). But in the last ten years, he’s been a regular band member for Angus and Julia Stone, Brett Dennen, and Passenger.

In addition to impressive recording credits, he’s played Letterman, Leno, Conan, Kimmel, and Good Morning America. He’s played Coachella, Bonnaroo, Governors Ball, Austin City Limits, and a ton of European music festivals, including last summer’s set at the Montreaux Jazz Festival as his solo artist persona, Naneum.

Naneum’s first record, Home for Hemingway, came out last year. A solo piano effort, its gentle, compelling melodies include welcome oddities, such as found footage of Brooklyn conversations, or the soothing wheezes and creaks of the breathing piano itself. The recording seems to catch not just the music, but the sunlight in Solo’s Greenpoint studio.

I caught Solo last summer with Brett Dennen at the Prospect Park bandshell, which was cancelled after the first two songs were deliriously enhanced by a lightning storm. In November, Dennen headlined Irving Plaza to a raucous crowd, and Solo surprised by not just playing piano and guitar, but even taking a verse. Realizing his versatility is perhaps just getting warmed up, I caught up with him via email to see what’s next, and to get an early peek at his new record, Open Sea, which drops February 13. You can play a track from it, “Accretion,” directly below.

This music is quite different from the bands you tour with as a supporting player. What’s the dynamic for you between the different styles of music, or between playing on others’ tracks versus being the sole creator?

When I work with other artists, I try to get inside their head and play what they’re hearing, to the best of my abilities. Everyone hears music differently so it’s a challenge.  I’ll start with how I hear the music first, and tweak it to their desire. Collaborating helps me grow as a musician, but you have to be open and not get upset when someone says they don’t like what you played. That’s why I really love creating my own music, because I get to play how I hear a song. I feel the ultimate freedom when I’m in my studio creating whatever I feel comes to me. I like to work quick and play off first reactions more than sit and think about what to add.

What are your influences for this output? And how would you compare the new record to Home for Hemingway? 

A few influences are Jónsi & Alex’s album, Riceboy Sleeps. Also Ólafur Arnalds, Slow Meadow, Goldmund, and Islands of Light.  These guys are all making incredible music. I went into making Home for Hemingway with no concept in mind. I just wanted to record an instrumental record, based around the piano. After I signed to Electrofone Music, I wanted to write a group of songs that were more cohesive. A good friend of mind suggested I should make a record based around sounds of the ocean.

Speaking of touring versus making your own music— is this part of a broader lifestyle change? Are you hoping to do more studio work and less work on the road?

Yes, after many years on the road, I’m not as excited as I used to be before heading out. I’ve been extremely lucky to have toured at the level I have, and will continue to do so, but I’d like to explore other possibilities as a musician. I’ve always been a creator, and I need that in my life in order to feel balanced.

What’s the story behind the artist name Naneum? And the cover photo for Open Sea?

As a kid, my father would take me fly fishing just north of my small town in Washington state to a canyon, called the Naneum. I have fond memories of spending my childhood in the woods and exploring. I felt this music reflected the landscape and openness that you don’t get living in Brooklyn. The cover was shot by my friend Jarrad Seng, a photographer from Australia, while he was on a trip to Antarctica.

How long have you lived in Greenpoint? I know you used to have a baby grand in your railroad apartment, which seems crazy. How has the neighborhood changed for someone who’s so often on the road?

In September of this year it will mark 19 years of living in Greenpoint, and my apartment! I did have a grand piano in here; yes, that was crazy, and overkill.  Obviously, there’s more to do in the hood than in 2000, but it still feels relatively the same to me. Every time I’d leave on a big tour, I’d come back months later and see a store has closed, and a new one has opened.

Favorite Greenpoint hangouts—or favorite foods to order in during late-night studio sessions?

My wife and I really love Cherry Point on Manhattan Ave. for dinner. Goldie’s on Nassau is a great bar, and Keg and Lantern cause I love sports. I’m excited that Greenpoint Palace reopened recently.  The best Thai food is from Amarin and I’ve been ordering from them for years.

Bradley Spinelli is the author of the novels “The Painted Gun” and “Killing Williamsburg,” and the writer/director of “#AnnieHall.”

Owners (left to right) Scott Anderson, Nanette Burstein, Sebastian Junger and reading series curator Glen Raucher outside the bar during its farewell party, 1/18/19 at 10pm.

Bartenders Eddie and Jonathan (top, left and right) with patrons during the bar's final hour, 1/27/19 at 3am.

Owners (left to right) Sebastian Junger, Scott Anderson and Nanette Burstein hanging out on the Half King's final night, 1/26/19 at 11pm.

Half King owners Sebastian Junger, Scott Anderson and Nanette Burstein and original partner Jerome O'Connor (first through fourth from left) during the bar's farewell toast, 1/18/19 at 11pm.

Guests at the farewell party, 1/18/19 at 11pm.

Guests at the farewell party, 1/18/19 at midnight.

New York Times photographer Caitlin Ochs (left) with friend after shooting The Half King's farewell party, 1/18/18 at 11pm.

Soccer team members after practice at Chelsea Piers in The Half King's back room, 1/19/19 at midnight.

Patrons in The Half King's dining room, 1/19/19 at 8pm.

Author and journalist Reniqua Allen (2nd right) with The Half King's reading series host Glen Raucher (1st right) and Books on Call founder Andrea Shane (1st left) at the conclusion of The Half King's final literary event, 1/21/19 at 9pm.

Sebastian Junger and Scott Anderson at the conclusion of their farewell conversation, 1/23/19 at 9pm.

Attendees of The Half King's farewell conversation, 1/23/19 at 9pm.

Longtime Hugo Boss employees Oscar Castillo (top, center) and Eoin O'Sullivan (first right) with their co-workers in their regular corner, 1/23/19 at 10pm.

Player and fans from the Chelsea Piers adult hockey league having their final meet-up at The Half King, 1/23/19 at 11pm.

The Half King's staff with their closing count down during the bar's last three days.

The Half King's owners and past staff during their reunion party, 1/25/19 at 11pm.

The Half King's original opening staff from 2000 during reuniting for the bar's closing, 1/25/19 at 11pm.

Attendees of The Half King's final night with a portrait of the late Tim Hetherington, 1/26/19 at 11:30pm.

Patrons having a nightcap during The Half King's final night, 1/27/19 at 12a.

Longtime employee Paolo Delmar with DJ Rich Green (top, 3rd and 5th from left) joined by the staff of nearby restaurant Tia Pol (right, seated) as they closed out The Half King on its final night, 1/27/19 at 3am.

Bartender Eddie (center) with Anna Zorina Gallery director Marie Nyquist as they closed out The Half King on its final night, 1/27/19 at 3am.

Patrons closing out The Half King on its final night, 1/27/19 at 3:30am.

Guests at the farewell party, 1/18/19 at 9pm.

The Half King's past staff and friends reuniting for the bar's closing, 1/25/19 at 11pm.

Photographer Lauren Welles with friends at her "NYC: From Beach to Street" exhibition during the bar's final night, 1/26/19 at 11:30pm.

The drink menu for The Half King's farewell party on 1/18/19.

Receipt from The Half King's final hour, 1/27/19 at 3am.

Chelsea lost its Cheers on Sunday morning as The Half King closed up shop after 18 years. Some knew the bar for its journalist owners– Sebastian Junger, Nanette Burstein, and Scott Anderson— but those who came to bid it farewell during its final week constituted a mix of media types, local workers, Chelsea Piers athletes, gallery visitors, and lots of fresh faces from the West Side’s new residential skyline.

After announcing last month that “times have changed and we can no longer avoid financial reality,” The Half King held its formal farewell party last Friday, a week ahead of its final night. The owners and their original partner, Jerome O’Connor, were on hand for a champagne toast. As the journalists spoke to a New York Times writer, the reporters became the reported.

The following Wednesday, Junger and Anderson asked each other questions during a farewell conversation. Junger remembered The Half King as a grieving spot for 9/11 recovery workers and for acquaintances of their friend Tim Hetherington, a photojournalist who was killed in 2011 while covering Libya’s civil war.  “If the only thing that had happened in this place is that it served that function on that day, The Half King would have been worth it,” he reflected. “It made me incredibly grateful that this place existed, that I had a place in it.”

When Bedford + Bowery asked if there were any places that he’d miss in Chelsea besides his own, Anderson responded, “Not really, we drink for free here!” The audience laughed and Junger added, “If you own your own bar it’s really hard to think of anywhere else to go.”

The Half King’s notable series of photography and book events ended with an exhibition of Lauren Welles’ prints and a reading featuring journalist Reniqua Allen, author of It Was All a Dream: A New Generation Confronts The Broken Promise to Black America. Welles held an informal closing last Saturday; she expressed her gratitude for curators Anna Van Lenten and James Price and told us, “I hope the people that made [The Half King] take that magic to wherever they go next.”

On Friday, the past and present staff of The Half King held a reunion that brought out many who were there during the blackout of 2003, when Burstein got on the bar and yelled for everyone to calm down as the beer supply warmed up. Another reunion occurred at the opposite end of the bar when a mob of Hugo Boss employees arrived from their offices at the nearby Starrett-Lehigh Building. When asked to sum up his time at The Half King, Oscar Castillo told me “there was no better place in Chelsea to quench your thirst than at The Half King. Especially on Thirsty Thursdays with my colleagues and futbol mates. Long live the King!”

A half-moon hung over a clear sky during The Half King‘s final hour on Sunday morning as the mournful staff put the Fugees’ “Killing Me Softly” on repeat and sang along with tear-glistened cheeks.

Click through the slideshow above to see photos from The Half King’s final week.

(Photos courtesy of Laundry Day)

I first met Laundry Day in October. That morning, the band had hit a million streams on Spotify. With around 50,000 monthly listeners, they’ve been steadily rising in popularity since the release of their first album, Trumpet Boy, in March of last year. All of this before they graduated high school.

The plan was to meet in Hells Kitchen, during their free period. On my walk from the subway, I found myself jittery and nervous. I’m a huge fan.

They’re in high school, I told myself. You are 22. Grow up.

I texted one of them to let them know when I arrived, and I saw a group of four boys chatting and laughing as they strolled across the street towards me. Breathe, idiot. 

As they got closer, I noticed one of them had a keychain hanging from his belt loop – it was Woody from Toy Story. I unclenched a little. They each shook my embarrassingly sweaty hand as they introduced themselves – Henry, Jude, Etai, and Sawyer. I asked about the missing fifth member. They told me Henry #2 (or, as his friends call him, HP) wanted to be there but had a soccer game to play. 

As we walked the half-block to Pinkberry, two girls waved hello to Henry. “He knows everybody,” I heard. At 4pm on a Monday, it wasn’t particularly busy, so we claimed a corner by the door and unloaded our backpacks under two small round tables.

Only Sawyer got yogurt, and he was quickly made fun of for getting the smallest possible size. After a few seconds of this, we talked a bit about the making of Trumpet Boy, which entailed “a lot of staying up late,” according to Etai. They’ve since released an EP and another full-length album. On Friday they’ll release a single, “CHA.” But they don’t plan these things out. They don’t feel any obligations – they produce as they want to. It motivates them, but keeps them fluid, Jude said.

Officially, they describe their sound as pop alternative. Unofficially, they’re doing their own thing. Their music is mellow, and a little soulful – often featuring a trumpet or saxophone. Their lyrics are engaging; often relatable, but usually including nods to their young age, with lines like “I ain’t even 16” and “we ain’t kids for nothing.”

Much has changed over the past year. “Around a year ago, the majority of people at our shows were our friends,” Etai said.

Now, Sawyer said, “we play a show and promote it and 200 people who we just don’t know come…”

“And they all know the words,” Etai continued.

Laundry Day formed largely unintentionally. Sawyer released an EP on his own their freshman year: “I thought it was so cool,” Jude said. “I’d always written random songs, but I’d never recorded anything because I really couldn’t do anything else but sing and write.”

Jude had written a song for his girlfriend and asked Sawyer to help him produce it. They began working on it after classes in the basement studio at Beacon High School. Over time, a small crowd began cramming into the tiny room to watch – including Etai, Henry, and HP, who stood out by actually contributing to the song’s production.

People were curious. “I was eating lunch down there one day, and I was like, ‘Damn, I’m really trying to do this too,” said Etai, who was in the same after-school band program as Sawyer and HP.

The next song Jude and Sawyer worked on had more help from their future band members. Eventually the guys decided they needed a group identifier. They turned to inside jokes. A friend of theirs used to come to school dressed in “these trash outfits”… “baggy sweatpants”… “the worst outfits.”

Naturally, they would make fun of him: “Yo, Nicko, is it laundry day?” Name: check.

As we talked, they chimed in randomly and waterfalled over each other. Each one went in and out of talking to me and talking to each other, teetering in between the bubble of the interview and the distractions of the world outside.

Laundry Day is more like a very strong friend group. “I love having these four guys in this building with me,” Jude said. “It’s like having your brothers in your school. It’s really cool.”

“Except I have my sister in our school and it’s super annoying,” Henry added.

On stage, the guys have defined roles: Jude sings up front, Sawyer sings and plays guitar, HP plays bass, Henry plays guitar, and Etai handles the drums. Off stage, it’s more of a healthy free-for-all; they’re all musically inclined, so any piece you hear is a toss-up of who is doing what.

“When stuff comes out, we’ll go to school and be like, ‘Yo, Etai, you sounded so crazy on those drums,’ but then we’ll find out Sawyer did it,” Henry explained. “We write songs as we’re recording. So, it’ll start with someone coming up with drums, for example, and recording the loop. And then someone adds a layer, and then someone adds another layer and when we have enough, we play it on loop for a while. Then we start writing lyrics for it. It usually just comes down to someone having an idea and recording it,” Jude said.

With all the talk of who plays what, we got on the subject of music lessons. Etai likes them, not because virtuosity is important to him, but because he feels a responsibility on stage and in the studio to be the best that he can. “Realistically, playing is just expressing your ideas, and I want my hands and my feet to be able to keep up.”

When making Trumpet Boy, they would work together for 14 hours straight without meaning to. The focus on music removed them from their social lives outside of the band. “We left the social scene, and when we came back, it was almost like we had been gone in a different country,” Henry explained.

Laundry Day exists in a music space that’s changed drastically over the last few years. Streaming music is becoming ever more popular and has allowed for more people to release their music independently (I discovered them on a Spotify Discover Weekly playlist). The internet and social media have changed the way people interact with music; Jude describes it as the wild west. Sawyer taught himself how to produce his own music using GarageBand and watching Quincy Jones videos. The ability to create music and share it with people all over the world has never been more accessible.

“Having your debut album out on Spotify, it’s a milestone… and getting there is not as hard as it used to be,” Sawyer said. “Now, some of the greatest albums are released on TuneCore and AWAL, and other streaming services.”

“Coloring Book [by Chance the Rapper] was uploaded through TuneCore!” Henry added. This shift has both ups and downs: “It’s easier than ever to put out music, but that makes it harder than ever to get traction,” Jude explained.

Laundry Day is starting to get that traction, and they recently hired a manager. With interesting offers coming in, they wanted guidance on what is legitimate and which opportunities to chase. “Especially being kids, it’s so easy to get manipulated by the music industry, so it’s scary…” Jude mentioned.

“Our parents are definitely scared of us getting abused,” Etai added. There are echoes of agreement.

Having a manager also proves to help in other areas, like booking shows: “No one wants to book 16-year-olds,” Etai explained.

“Especially when they’re the ones e-mailing you,” Jude chimed in.

“We can’t sell drinks, so everyone wants to give us daytime shows. Like I said, no justice for high school bands,” Etai concluded.

They’ve come a long way since they first started, and they all agree they’ve gotten better and better. They’re growing together, and as Jude said, “If we stay on our grind, it’s going to work out how it’s supposed to.”

After dropping an album of Trump dis tracks last year, Tim Heidecker is still fighting that good fight and turning our president’s verbal poop slurry into killer tunes. Today the musician-comedian, best known as half of Tim and Eric, is releasing a new EP, Another Year In Hell: Collected Songs from 2018. Up above, you’ll find a new video, created by “perfect satirist for the Trump era” Vic Berger, for the song “The Ballad of ICE Agent Ray,” a country-western tune documenting the not-so-happy trails of family separation.

If the word Spaghett means anything to you, you’ve probably heard some of these tracks before. But a couple of them have gotten new twists. “Tobin and the Judge” is a hum-along ode to toxic masculinity, with Kavanaughty lyrics like “Summertime and country clubs / drinking beer and throwing up / another brewski in my cup.” Originally a guitar-and-vocals performance recorded backstage and posted to YouTube, the album version is fully orchestrated by composer Bobby Halvorson.

“Ballad of the Incel Man” voices the romantic aspirations of a Hillary-hating alt-righter: “Got my picture of Obama / which we’ll burn in effigy / and I hope I find a like-minded girl tonight at the Trump rally.” The album’s “Nebraska Version” sounds even more Springstonian.

“Q” is an upbeat nod to conspiracy theories, from the faked moon landing to lizard people to the titular deep state agent. A newly recorded number, “Rake the Floor,” is a Californian’s tribute to the Fire Marshall Bill of wildfires, with a chorus of: “Pick up a rake and rake the leaves off the floor / cut down the trees and sell the wood at the store / pick up a rake and rake the leaves off the floor / and we ain’t gonna have no forest fires anymore.”

If all this political crooning makes you miss the days of “I Sit Down When I Pee,” don’t fret. Heidecker recently announced some new live dates for “On Cinema,” his unhinged take on “At the Movies,” with Gregg Turkington (aka Neil Hamburger). You can find those dates here.