Category: Art

Still The Biggest Balls in the Business. Yoko Ono Plastic Ono Band Live

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Bowery Ballroom, NYC, Sunday, September 16, 2013
Sold Out

Very few people accept the idea that watching Yoko Ono do her thing is entertaining.  It’s interesting how you get universally similar reactions from very different types of people, all very negative. But to paraphrase Bill Murray in Stripes, one day Yoko Ono is going to die and you’re gonna say “I’ve been listening to her for years and I think she’s fabulous.”  Sure enough, Yoko is now 80 years old.  My dad was 81 when he died but he seemed decades older.  She is still an all-out assault on your senses, ululating, sonically reverbulating, the like — but when combined with this particularly heavy crack incarnation of the Plastic Ono Band, the results are BIG.  Head banging music.

This night was Yoko Ono Plastic Ono Band’s  only 2013 show, and it featured one Yoko, one Yuka, and one Yuko. They opened up with the show with an hour of Yoko’s films, some dating back to 1966.  Bare 60s asses, and so on.

The band is amazing.  Yuko Araki from a group called mi-gu is a seriously demure powerhouse drummer. They had to set up the fiberglass around her she didn’t blast waif Yoko out into the audience. A big room drummer. Behind the keys was her eminence (based on audience reaction) Yuka Honda from Cibo Matto. Yuka’s husband Nels Cline, feedback-enthusiast and Thurston Moore-gentrifier, most commonly associated with the dinner-party rock group Wilco was impressive on guitar, as he usually is.  If anything, he deferred to the band leader and Yoko.  Cline seemed to be channeling Adrian Belew at times, with an enjoyable 70s Talking Heads groove there for a good chunk of the show. The bandleader, as it were, is Sean Lennon — even though I didn’t realize it until three-quarters of through the show. Pushing 40, Seanboy is a surprisingly musical multi-instrumentalist.  He has so much to work against, the reputation of every Jason Bonham, Ziggy Marley, or Julian Lennon (did I really need to say it?).  He held his own against Nels Cline on guitar and generally guided the direction of the attack. The show featured one surprise guest, utility man Earl Slick from the mid-80s not-so-supergroup “Phantom, Rocker, and Slick” and John and Yoko’s Double Fantasy album. Slick’s pentatonic focus added a bluesier angle to Yoko’s guitar army on the last few songs, including Don’t Worry, Kyoko.

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So, the question is: If Yoko Ono rocks hard live and nobody is there to hear it and nobody believes you because they can’t imagine how anyone could listen to that shit — did it really make a sound? <ululate>YES!</ululate>

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Top photo: James Prochnik

Raymond Pettibon Loves to Draw Coyks

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After an uncomfortably slow day at work, I walked over to the David Zwirner Gallery to see the latest Raymond Pettibon installation,To Wit.  I’ve been staring at his eerie and profoundly disturbing images for over 25 years, ever since the early Black Flag and Minutemen album covers.

He is the artist behind one of the most popular tattoos in history and now has a completely baffling Twitter presence.

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I can’t think of a more aggressive or controversial guy.  He created the flyer that enraged an LAPD already bent on kicking punks’ ass in the early 80s.  It resulted in an unfair reputation for the LA Hardcore scene that laddered up/down to Prime Time TV.  Shows like Quincy ran episodes that focused on LA punk as a violent death cult.  We can thank Raymond Pettibon and Black Flag.

This show is good.  Hastily put together becomes Pettibon.  With his art, there’s a baseline expectation that you’ll see some fucked up images that you can’t unsee and he succeeds.  Lots of it is trying too hard, though. The phrases painted around his works read a lot like his tweets with obvious but consistent misspellings. Built to confuse. The language also explicitly acknowledges excessive alcohol as an influence on his life and art.  I was starting to wonder if he’s trying to become a punk rock Foster Brooks.  Lots of hard cocks too.  All over. Ray is a dirty, dirty old man, man.

Overall, an enjoyable show.

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The giant hardbound book they’re selling looks fantastic but is $60.  Hmmm.

19th Street between 10th and 11th
September 12 – October 26, 2013

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EZ Directions to Basquiat’s Grave

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“This way…but first lie down on the ground and I will show you my face”

Down the road sandwiched between Kensington and Sunset Park/South Slope is historic Green-Wood Cemetery. There are some incredible monuments and tombs dating back to the mid-1800s. Green-Wood loves to have visitors and even seems to boast its own tourism bureau! I actually think they sometimes have activities for kids, so check the schedule. Round up the little ones and bring em down to the graveyard.

To locate Basquiat’s modest resting place, enter the grounds on Ft. Hamilton Parkway near McDonald Ave (Saturday and Sunday until 4 only), or on 5th Avenue for a longer, scenic walk (every day). Make a left when you enter the cemetery (the road is called Border Avenue) and take it to “Grape Avenue.”  When you reach the intersection of “Fir Avenue,” start cutting through diagonally until you reach a row of small headstones.  See map at the bottom of this post for more details

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Just be respectful. Don’t treat him like you might Jim Morrison.

On the way to locating Jean-Michel, a large tomb caught my eye — and so did the words “The Eminent Minstrel” and “None knew him, but to love him.” Interesting placement of comma. Turns out he was William West, leader of one of the most successful minstrel acts in history. I wonder what that does for racial tensions within the art community resting at Green-Wood.

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Trains:
Closest: F to Ft. Hamilton Parkway (entrance to cemetery only open Sat-Sun 9-4)
Works: N/R/D to 36th Street (take a nice long walk through the length of Green-Wood anyday. Enjoy tons of beautiful things and historic creepy things).

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