April Art Attack

I know what you're thinking. Three talented friends come together to throw a little visual soiree. "You're fabulous!"--"No, you're fabulous!"-- "No, no, no, I insist that YOU'RE fabulous!" But, seriously, they are fabulous. Seonna Hong, Caroline Hwang, and Saelee Oh have known and worked with each other for years. Friendship and art combine to bring us sisterhood and solidarity.
-Sloan Fine Art Gallery on 128 Rivington St. (until 4/11)



Ryan McGinness’ Works.
Afterimage Magazine called McGinness "a Warhol for the information age.” He's got this mature-cartoon and classy-graffiti thing going on but he's the kind of pop art that could also sneak its way into my Art History textbook. He's funny. Not “haha” funny. He’s real peculiar and ironic. If you miss this you won't have anything to talk about when you go to Brooklyn loft parties this summer.
–Deitch Projects on 76 Grand St. (until 4/18)



The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia
I'm Asian. I'm biased. Remember globalization? This exhibit shows the permeation of culture from East to West and West to East. It's fun, educational and relevant. And the Guggenheim has really nice bathrooms.
–The Guggenheim (Until 4/19)



About Face
When I was a kid, I was obsessed with drawing faces. I mostly drew beautiful women, because whenever I tried to draw a man he ended up looking too girly. His lips too plump or his jaw too delicate. Definite foreshadowing. This exhibit features portraits of all kinds as depicted by 37 contemporary and 20th century artists.
-Adam Baumgold Gallery on 74 East 79th St. (until 5/2)



Mickalene Thomas’ She's Come Undone
Mickalene challenges concepts of female identity and she's not afraid to sparkle while doing it. She uses gems in her paintings. I came up with a game for you to play with Mickalene. Pick one painting. Remember the woman in the image. Then go home, play David Bowie's "Queen Bitch" and dress in your own interpretation. I promise you'll feel smart, kinky and empowered.
-Lehmann Maupin Gallery on 201 Chrystie St. (until 5/2)



Martin Kippenberger’s The Problem Perspective
I would want Martin Kippenberger to design my bedroom except I'm pretty sure he'd try to put my bed on the ceiling and I'd have to sleep in a harness. He'd probably also put a mould of his face in my pillow. Creepy...but hot. Go run around his installations at the MoMA. “You Should be Ashamed of Yourself” brings me back to when my teachers used to publicly humiliate me during class for passing nude sketches to cute boys. OK, that was just a week ago but, damn, it was embarrassing.
–MoMA (until 5/11)



Jenny Holzer’s Protect Protect
I want to have Holzer’s babies. She writes dirty goodness in her script-art-poetry and freaks us out with photos on x-ray LSD.
-The Whitney (until 5/31)

-Suhatcha Nuriyah Panya

Scandal Sheet: Fear of Flushing

I’m calling for a rest-room revolution! I understand that the purpose of technology is to make our lives easier and more productive, but toilets that flush automatically cross the line. Are we as a society so lazy and thoughtless that we can’t be bothered to get rid of our own waste?

The argument for automatically flushing toilets is: they’re more hygienic, since nobody has to place their hands on a germ-infested handle, but most people use the bottom of their shoe to push the handle in the first place. I’m not sure my sneaker appreciates the increase in commode convenience.

In many ways these toilets make things dirtier. By not controlling the frequency of the flush, people are caught unaware by a sudden spray of filthy toilet water. The sinks and soap take care of your hands, but how are you supposed to clean your behind? Do you just wait for the next opportunity to shower? Until then, you have a dirty, wet ass that’s as uncomfortable as it is unsanitary. As though using a high-traffic public restroom wasn’t gross enough!

Many times, the toilet will flush itself before I’m done. I end up feeling rushed. I hate when an inanimate object tells me what to do. Who’s in charge, here? I’m all about convenience, but unchecked, expediency can slide into exasperation. Those toilets have entirely too much power. They’ve taken my autonomy along with the toilet paper, and I resent it. Don’t get sucked into technology dependency! Who knows what’s coming down the pipe next? Would anyone want to buy a laundry machine that runs by itself, regardless of if there’s a full load of clothes inside? I’d like to be able to have control over my appliances. I want to put them to use when I find it necessary. Instead, I’m stuck trying to count how many seconds I have left before the toilet decides it’s time.

Take back the bathroom! These automatically flushing toilets are unnecessary, unsanitary, and, I fear, unstoppable.

-Carly Okyle

Lonely In New York

-Lee Brozgol

Never Met You, But Want To

Why couldn't George Weber just go to a gay bar? We're living in Bromance land, he would have had no problem picking up some bondage boyz in Chelsea at Rawhide, which was across the street from my middle school. But a shady craigslist 16 year-old who makes questionably sane prank phone calls and posts them on Youtube? Come on George. I'm not saying your death wasn't a tragedy, I'd love to know all about your fascinating last hours, but really, don't grab rotten fruit. The up side to all this horror is I've rediscovered the ridiculousness of craigslist's missed connections. As my co-worker said "Just give them your number." I'm not going to wax philosophical on the social politics of our internet fueled world or spill why facebook interactions prompted me to get wasted last night. Here's a highlight of connections that may never be made.

Late night on the L - w4m - 27 (Brooklyn)
This is a long shot. But we met around 2 AM early this morning. I was dazed and had just got off a plane. You sat across from me and our eyes connected on a few occasions. Your name is Mark. I wore redlipstick. I told you I'd be here for a week. You said you'd hope to run into me again...

Indian Girl at PJ Clarke's last evening - w4m (Midtown East
If you were that guy who looked at me on the way to the toilet with this great and intense stare I would love to hear from you.

VGL HOT NYPD????? - m4m (Manhattan)
This happened Monday or Tuesday of this week in midtown........
HOT gorgeous (Irish?) cop in his late 30s/early 40s(?) spotted at a TD Bank Branch.
I may just come by to change coins for dollars more often - lol
You're STUNNING!
We locked eyes and I loved your gorgeous smile - you were very courteous and very warm, too.
I did catch you looking at my buns.
Have coffee and go from there?
Btw, I couldn't see if there was a ring on your finger......my heart will break if you're married.
EXTEREMELY DISCRT HERE - as I have played with cops before.

never worked so long and hard to cement a failure - w4w - 28
at weird moments, i still want to contact you. i am in love with someone else, but our separation was such an amputation that it haunts me still. i'm not really sure why. does it haunt you too?

so, this is just to let off some of that steam. i'm posting this under missed connections because ours was such a huge one. aren't you glad i left? i sure as hell am. but i wish it had all gone differently, and i wish there was some way i could still know you, and also know that there was no chance for disaster.

anyway, i continue to hope for the best for you, and i'm always curious how you're doing, and how you've changed, and how you've processed all the things that happened between us. one day, i hope we'll have a beer or ten and roll our eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

Cute Korean girl with Abercrombie sweatshirt in NYPL reading room nort - m4w (Midtown)
Hi, I'm sitting here at my laptop doing a job search with the library's free internet and happen to be facing you. I think you are incredibly cute and your studious demeanor only enhances this further for me. Your shirt says “evil of angel, you decide” I’d have to go with angel given your heavenly appearance. I have dated Koreans in the past and really enjoy their company. I would love to buy you coffee sometime and find out more about you. Perhaps you will read this?

-Royal

Pomp Goes Global: Kolkata, West Bengal

At the start of 2009, I spent a week at Anandwan, a peaceful live-in community in central India for leprosy patients, discussing what it means to be part of a Fellowship. We were twenty some aspiring problem-solvers gathering daily in a room reminiscent of a Bengali adda, or hang-out session. Sitting cross-legged on thin, multi-colored mattresses and pillows, we analyzed our personal encounters with NGO “capacity-building” from the past five months, as sunlight and mosquitoes crept through half-open windows. Energized by the week’s brainstorms, I returned to Kolkata with Fellowship on my mind. Increasingly, I am realizing this is not one but many messy experiences, bundled neatly into a readymade ten-month program.




I left the States to join a grassroots Indian NGO, but it is Kolkata that is my full-time reality. I have a growing affection for this dysfunctional yet warm city, which has become my India, the one I know best. Perhaps I am fond of it because, like me, Kolkata is also full of contradictions.




The capital of West Bengal, one of India’s two Communist states, Kolkata is laidback to the point of complacency. Spoken English, Call Centers and online MBA courses are in vogue here as quick-fix income boosts. However, the NGO scene – flourishing in Delhi and Bombay as a site of legitimate social innovation – is decrepit and incestuous. While there are glimpses of entrepreneurship in the private sector, like my friend’s heritage walking tour company, Calcuttans largely seem indifferent to transforming their drowsy city into a bustling metropolitan (following the likes of Ahmedabad, Hyderabad or Chennai). And so, the sight of skinny rickshaw drivers pedaling furiously – or running barefoot – to keep up with cars is commonplace here. As are crowded roadside tea stands, which serve two rupees of milky goodness around-the-clock to loitering men with dubious day jobs. And though the city’s non-Bengali population is burgeoning with recent arrivals from neighboring states Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, Bengali is obstinately the language of choice in the streets over English, or even Hindi.



My relatives, incredulous as to why a single Bengali American woman would voluntarily relocate to dirty, predatory Kolkata, are convinced I must be lonely. What they don’t realize is that their Kolkata ends with overcrowded markets and Hindu temples, while mine only begins. February, with Saraswati Puja and wedding season, has been a series of sari-wearing occasions. With practice I find myself carrying the yards of fabric with increasing ease, even grace. As I look at the wide-eyed Indian woman in the mirror, the sari begins to seem like just another outfit, not a costume for special occasions as it once did. Then there is the rediscovery of Odissi dance, a long-lost childhood hobby. I spend as many as three nights a week at the studio reminding my body of hand gestures and foot movements and remembering a one-time passion. On auto rides home from class, I memorize dance sequences in my head while the wind rocks the unprotected vehicle and dries my sweaty face. I am never alone here. The competing humdrum of merchants advertising in high-pitched voices; conductors trumpeting routes as they hang from bus doorways; passerby’s arguing belligerently in Bengali about something, anything, follows me all the way home.

-Neela Pal

Pomp Obsessions - Spring Break

Stranded at my parents house with a sprained ankle during grad school spring break means that I have a lot of free time for obsessing. I spend most nights watching my Bangladeshi parents favorite reality tv show, Dance India Dance. And the verdict is... it's awesome. Not only does it force me to learn Hindi by listening and bugging my parents for translations, but the dancing in it is amazing... see for yourself. (It get's interesting at 1:20.)

You can watch Krishna and Radha dance here

They even had a good ole girls vs. boys dance off (:42 for this one)

You can watch the dance off here

And the last thing I'll bore you with is this pretty version of Half a Person that I just heard by Welcome Wagon. It made me think of spring break roadtrips with my seat reclined, eyes half-closed, smoke drifting out the windows and warm wind blowing through my hair. Sigh, a girl can dream.


-Kastoory

Divas Diet Hard

Cher is offended Chia refuses to construct a head in her likeness. “Obama got one!” carped the aging legend. When we contacted Chia, the spokesperson said, “She called us herself, screaming, ‘You don’t got me babe,’ over and over again. She even airmailed us an ice sculpture of Sonny Bono.” It doesn’t look like Cher is going to get what she wants anytime soon. We think she’d have better luck dialing Trader Joe’s to see if they’ll make organic chicken nuggets that “sort of” look like her.

We have it on good authority Oprah has been drunk-dialing diet companies. Jenny Craig HQ has been getting strange slurry calls around 1 AM. A woman’s voice hollers, “I’m eating 1 pound of Cheese Whiz. What are you going to do about it bitch?” Nutra System is receiving similar calls around 2:15 AM. An inebriated woman rants, “I just ate 20 s’mores and tomorrow I’m giving away a car to a really poor person. Take that.” The calls became so verbally abusive, both companies hired private detectives who traced the number back to Oprah’s digs in Chi Town. We called, Harpo Studios to see if the queen would confess. Her intern’s intern yammered, “No comment.” And hung up.



-Lianne Stokes

****Disclaimer: All news fake as face-lifts