The 80th Academy Awards were last night. I haven't seen "No Country for Old Men" yet, but I adore the Coen brothers and was happy to see them do so well. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova winning for Best Song was also nice to see, as was Jon Stewart calling Irglova back out to the stage so she could give her acceptance speech after having been rudely cut off.
And then of course are the fashions. Like we need one more opinion on them, but here's mine:
*Bulb of Garlic. That's what Jennifer Hudson's bodice looked like, at any rate.
*80's prom dress. Cameron Diaz's dress looked good when she presented, but it cut some funky angles on the red carpet. The actress was asked about the dress and she said it felt like wearing nothing. And I'd agree. Her Dior dress was of an ilk which I believe had been been worn better by a dozen starlets on the cover of Vanity Fair's "Hollywood" edition this year. It came off as 80's prom on Cameron. But at least it's better than last year's get up.
*"Old Hollywood Glamour". The vibe was all over the place, but it got a little cartoonish. And God knows we had enough of cartoonish with THREE friggin' Best Song nominations from "Enchanted". Yes, Katherine Heigl and Anne Hathaway looked lovely, but they also looked waxen.
*Cotillard in Gaultier. She looked radiant, the dress was smashing. Good texture, good lines, tres francaise. Loved it.
*Tilda Swinton. You all saw it. This one is like shooting fish in a barrel. She looked like a college graduate whose cap and sleeve got stolen.
*Sexy Victorian. Is how I described the Chanel gown Penelope Cruz wore. It reminded me of the shapes from the turn of the last century, but refined, sexy, and modern. Nice job.
And finally . . . .
*"Tribute to Binoculars and Periscopes". One of the funnier moments in the show.
2.25.2008
Some Things Are Private
Kristen and I went to Trinity Repertory Company on Saturday afternoon to see a matinee performance of "Some Things Are Private", a play about censorship and speech and how we perceive art. The focal point for the play is the work of photographer Sally Mann. Though there have been controversies about her work over the years, Mann was one of the first photographers whose work really inspired me. It was a good show, and good to think about photography a bit.
2.20.2008
Sushi Grade
Most of the fish that are caught are by-catch. Everything is useful to someone, but much of what you catch isn't worth anything to you. Bluefish get crudely gaffed and tossed into a bucket. They will become chum for a later shark- and tuna-fishing expedition.
The fluke are handled more delicately. So that they remain sushi grade, they are bled out with a stab to the heart, up under the gills. Bleeding the tender whitefish removes the blood that causes lividity, and the quality of the filet to plummet.
It will be served tonight, prepared with care in a sparkling white minimalist sushi restaurant, in a quiet far from the turmoil that led it there.
Zombie Valentine
Because I can't draw and didn't have the budget for live-action zombies, I scoured the interwebs last week to find some Zombie Valentines I could appropriate for Aaron's Valentine's Day card. We have a thing about zombies. And I apologize for not linking to the sources, but if you Google "Zombie Valentine" and select "Images" you'll find them.
Anyway, this is the design that won out.
Portraits without Faces
I realized that I've taken a few portraits where you can't see the person's face. Without the face, we rely more on body language to relate with the image.
This is Jennifer, at her wedding in Maine. June 2007.
To see the set in Flickr, click here.
Mid-week in Maine
Amity is on February vacation from school this week, so I took a couple days to dash up to the mountains to visit. Today we had a light lunch, some drinks and conversation at the bar at the Boiler Room in Wilton, ME. Discussed the weather with some poor guy up from Alabama, here to scope out cell phone towers. The snow is too deep to reach most of them. Needless to say, he's one frustrated fish-out-of-water in Franklin County. There are 6 foot mounds of snow everywhere, a solid 3 feet of snow everywhere else. It's almost overwhelming just driving down the road.
But it's also good for hunkering in, lighting a fire, and getting some work done. Though there's been some socializing too, and even some photography. I brought my old 35mm Rebel G, a film camera, with me for the trip. It's actually in better shape than the Digital Rebel, and overall I've enjoyed working with an old friend. I'm curious to see what the pictures look like though. The instant gratification of seeing a digital photo right away has spoiled me.
Then again, that's the whole point of going back to film. All this expired film I've acquired gives me an excuse to return to my roots a bit, and to revisit a technology that was swept under the rug very suddenly and very completely. I even had spare rolls of Supra 100 and E100VS, about a dozen of each, that were dropped instantly upon the arrival of the Digital Rebel. It's only been three years and yet I feel so much like I'm going back to basics. I have some film to drop off for processing on Thursday when I get home, negatives to scan, and then I'll have a better idea of where I'm at with that project.
It's appropriate that I do both of these things in Maine: I get work done, and I use a camera that was my constant companion in this place at one time. Granted, it was the other end of the state. But the symbolism of returning to the roots is both in using the Rebel G, and in using it in Maine. I felt productive and confident in Maine, and I see that every time I return. Fortunately, I find it. Perhaps that's what keeps me returning. That and Amity's excellent, ass-kicking hospitality, of course.
But it's also good for hunkering in, lighting a fire, and getting some work done. Though there's been some socializing too, and even some photography. I brought my old 35mm Rebel G, a film camera, with me for the trip. It's actually in better shape than the Digital Rebel, and overall I've enjoyed working with an old friend. I'm curious to see what the pictures look like though. The instant gratification of seeing a digital photo right away has spoiled me.
Then again, that's the whole point of going back to film. All this expired film I've acquired gives me an excuse to return to my roots a bit, and to revisit a technology that was swept under the rug very suddenly and very completely. I even had spare rolls of Supra 100 and E100VS, about a dozen of each, that were dropped instantly upon the arrival of the Digital Rebel. It's only been three years and yet I feel so much like I'm going back to basics. I have some film to drop off for processing on Thursday when I get home, negatives to scan, and then I'll have a better idea of where I'm at with that project.
It's appropriate that I do both of these things in Maine: I get work done, and I use a camera that was my constant companion in this place at one time. Granted, it was the other end of the state. But the symbolism of returning to the roots is both in using the Rebel G, and in using it in Maine. I felt productive and confident in Maine, and I see that every time I return. Fortunately, I find it. Perhaps that's what keeps me returning. That and Amity's excellent, ass-kicking hospitality, of course.
2.16.2008
Brazer --- Shout Out!
At dinner at Nick and Erin's tonight, Brazer told me that he reads ICON nearly every day. Of course I didn't know that, so once I found out, I told him he'd be getting a shout out. So here's my brother-from-another-mother and me, filleting fresh fish he brought down from the Cape back in July 2007 for JOWYCOI. If you have to ask what the acronym means, you weren't there.
Oh, and Brazer, don't forget my Hooker's sweatshirt. Not only will I be representing in general, but I'll also post a picture of me wearing it here on ICON. :) In fact, I bet I can get a picture of both Budget and me in our Hooker's gear eventually.
Dinner in New Bedford
Nick and Erin hosted dinner tonight. Missy and Ben arrived yesterday from New York, Brazer came down from the Cape, I drove in from Providence, and Chris and Catherine came from across town. I brought wine and homemeade bread, made some thyme butter. We had steak tips, salad, and Erin's famous Key Lime Pie. Oh, and pasta from a decade-old Food and Wine book on Pasta that the Burke-Wildmans found in college. We made the Greek Pasta a million times in Machias. I bought a copy, and got one for my mom too. I never use my cookbooks, so it was a nostalgic moment to eat a recipe from that book. Better still, I hadn't actually tried the caramelized onion, mushroom, and goat cheese dish before tonight.
As always, it was a great evening. And for further proof that we're all getting old, by 10:30 we'd all punked out and were ready for night-nights.
Which is where I'm heading. Tomorrow morning Aaron returns from New York, and we have a lecture on Maxfield Parrish to attend in the afternoon. And because there's no rest for the wicked, I have classrooms to set up tomorrow online. Doors open Monday, term begins Wednesday. I only just submitted final grades last Wednesday from the previous session. And so it goes.
As always, it was a great evening. And for further proof that we're all getting old, by 10:30 we'd all punked out and were ready for night-nights.
Which is where I'm heading. Tomorrow morning Aaron returns from New York, and we have a lecture on Maxfield Parrish to attend in the afternoon. And because there's no rest for the wicked, I have classrooms to set up tomorrow online. Doors open Monday, term begins Wednesday. I only just submitted final grades last Wednesday from the previous session. And so it goes.
2.15.2008
Again
Another shooting at a University yesterday, and it's hit home even closer than Virginia Tech did. I took classes for two years part-time at Northern Illinois University in the Ed. D. program. Watching CNN last night, I recognized the parking lots and pathways and buildings, and the gray February afternoon in DeKalb. Today I vacillate between feeling heartbroken and feeling numb. I don't understand why this keeps happening.
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