Archive for October, 2009

There hasn’t been a halloween themed post proper on the ‘duck yet, but a series of random events (and the annual invite to GP’s house o’ horrors) have conspired to make it so.    I was up at Tufts for a panel discussion called Framed: Contemporary Art and the Museum last week and picked up a card that reminded me of a great show on view in the University Art Gallery, Sacred Monsters: Everyday Animism in Contemporary Japanese Art and Anime, which is on view through November 22.  You should go.  It’s spooky and entertaining.

The show includes work by eight artists – Chiho Aoshima, Nobuhiro Ishihara, Kenjiro Kitade, Mahomi Kunikata, Tomokazu Matsuyama, Mr., Oscar Oiwa and TOKYO KAMEN - and screenings of eight films, both animated and live action: Akira, Beautiful Dreamer, Ghost in the Shell II: Innocence, My Neighbor Totoro, Paprika, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, and The Grudge.  As the catalog says:

This exhibition examines representations of mythical spirits, gods, monsters, and other mutant, sentient beings in contemporary Japanese art and film as expressions of animist belief through the work of eight emerging and mid-career artists. The theme is also explored through a complementary program of continuous anime screenings presented in the Gallery.

Many contemporary Japanese visual artists and animators incorporate animist beliefs in their work as cultural rather than religious expression. A shared iconography connects the artists and anime included in this exhibition, ranging from kami (gods) to yokai (monsters), sentient and non-sentient beings with supernatural powers, and hybrid mythical creatures. These traditionally Japanese representations – visible, tangible, and ubiquitous – actively dissolve boundaries between the living and the dead, the human and non-human realms.

Interestingly, especially in light of the Framed discussion, there is an additional exhibit, in a separate but attached gallery, called Ghost Stories, featuring scary woodblock prints by Yoshitoshi and other ukiyo-e masters of the 19th Century.  With titles such as Omori Notices a Demon, Yoshihara’s Ghost Attacks, Oiwa and the Sash Serpent, and Greedy Old Woman Chooses the Heavy Box, this work is clearly ancestral or inspirational to many of the nearby Sacred Monsters.  When you’re recovered from Halloween and need a fresh scare, see both shows.

I’l love to blog about Somerville’s Ball Square Fine Wines & Liquors‘ recent expansion and renovation, their superior selection and the expertise of their staff.  Anybody who’s been there can attest to those.  Instead I shall blog about being sassed for desiring a wine with a punny name.

I popped in to BSFW&L on the weekend seeking to pick up a gift of wine for some dear friends.  Dear friends who like red wine and cats.  The wine is called Chat-en-Oeuf, which is a wine from the Rhône’s Côtes du Ventoux, a near neigbor of the pun’s object, Châteauneuf-du-Pape.   I know they’ll like this stuff, even if for a superficial reason. The label is illustrated with a cat sitting on a egg, as can be seen on Peter May’s excellent winelabels.org site.

“We don’t usually carry wines with cutesy names,” the reigning clerk opined.  I’ve learned that “we don’t usually” often means “I’m trying but failing to be polite about my disdain for your suggestion.”  No inquiry about what I liked about the wine, no attempted upsell to a different Rhône that might be in stock, higher quality and less punny.

It was a bit like trying to buy “I Just Called to Say I Love You” from Jack Black in High Fidelity.  Perhaps sensing my unease at having my choice chat upon, the clerk offered to order it for me.  I passed.

Let’s be clear, I’m no friend of the pun in general.  But I will happily buy silly things as gifts if they make the recipients happy.  Smart wine guys like Gary Vaynerchuk and Dale Cruse know that drinking wine should be fun, and they certainly shy away from judging by the label or the name.

I ordered a case of my punny catwine from the Wine & Cheese Cask near Inman Square.

I set out last week from North Station, taking the commuter rail with legions of downtown office-workers headed home to the suburbs like Don Draper.  But wasn’t headed for scotch and family, I was taking my first car-free trip to the DeCordova museum for the opening of three new shows.

When I arrived at the museum an hour later, I found myself looking at where I started, fifty years ago.

That’s North Station in the ’40s, photographed by Jules Aarons, part of an exhibition at DeCordova called “In the Jewish Neighborhoods” consisting of pictures of Boston’s North and West ends as well as Paris and New York in the 1940s.  The green line trolley is just about the only thing recognizable in this picture now, even though the tracks have been sunk underground and North Station has been subsumed (literally) in the TD BankNorth Garden.

It’s been a while since we had an interesting update in the wooden electronics department, but two recent developments in the not-so-typical use of wood hit the ducky radar last week:

Wooden covers for humanizing

The smart and stylish humans at iamhuman have finally restocked their selection of wooden laptop covers.  Not full shell covers (wouldn’t that be cool and absurdly expensive?) but more like the decals you often see, but these are made from real wood veneer.  iamhuman’s tagline is “human individuality for non-human objects” and that’s precisely what they deliver by using real wood.  No two are alike.

Wooden covers for human eyes

Meanwhile over at shwood, they’re making sunglasses with hand-crafted wooden frames in a sort of wayfarer style.  There’s something you don’t see every day.  I spent a brief moment indulging in splinter-paranoia panic before settling into a slow-burning jones for these specs. There’s no mention of prescription lenses, but I’ll keep watching and hoping.

I’m not going to make any claims on how green it is to use wood like this, but it sure is a nice break from some of the glossier surfaces and materials that are popular out there.  The built-in individuality is a definite plus, too.