Monthly Archives: July 2005

Quinn gave a loaf to every Sparrow


Well, once or twice, anyway. Here’s the whole story of Alice Quinn and the Persistent Poet, now celebrating its tenth anniversary. In 1995 I got very exercised about this. Now it’s just funny, not to mention actual magazine history. Bob Holman writes as introduction: “We proudly bring you yesterday’s eternal news today, the personal diaries of the poet who is our National Town Crier…” Here’s part of Sparrow’s first report in his diary of the time (all reprinted on Holman’s and Margery Snyder’s About.com poetry site):

I sit on the subway (the No. 6), approaching 42nd Street. In my lap I hold two rolled up posters:

GIVE OUR POEMS HOEMS

and

I’M DOROTHY PARKER
WITH A MAGIC MARKER.

I am heading uptown, towards the office of The New Yorker. Will any of the other Unbearables be there? Or will I be alone, an embarrassed ruffian in an unpopular beard, handing out flyers?

And, in fact, I have eight flyers, which I have xeroxed at the local candy store, in my coat pocket. They read:

How Much Misery
has been created by the rejection slips given out, daily, by The New Yorker? How many suicides have they induced? And worse, how many poets have been silenced? How many stopped writing sonnets and maritime ballads? How much writerly paralysis is directly invoked by these small 3″ x 5″ notes, which begin: “We regret…”?

The Unbearables have a resolution to this poetic blight — a suggestion that is both fair and militant. We demand, and suggest, that The New Yorker publish once a year all the poetry that is submitted unto it. This yearly 5203 page poetry issue will be the first egalitarian literary journal in history. Finally, great poets like Mark Strand will coexist with awful poets like Claude Hollister-Melnode. For once, readers will see how delightful great poets are, and how nauseating are poetasters. And perhaps, by a miracle, we will find another poet as brilliant as Brad Leithauser.

Let us begin! Poetic utopia is within our grasp, if we act quickly!

I’m for nothing if not timelessness. Enjoy.

The Battle of The New Yorker: A Diary [About]
Sparrow! [bio and links at iPoet.com]

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Rowland B. Wilson, cartoonist



From the St. Paul Pioneer Press:

Rowland B. Wilson, cartoonist

Rowland B. Wilson, whose watercolor cartoons were instantly recognizable to readers of Playboy, the Saturday Evening Post, Esquire and the New Yorker, died on June 28 at Scripps Memorial Hospital in Encinitas, Calif. He was 74 and lived in La Costa, Calif.

The cause was heart failure, his daughter Megan Wilson said in a statement. His sketches for a new cartoon for Playboy were on his drawing board when he died, she said.

Long a mainstay of Playboy, Wilson’s full-page color panels often were playful but generally tamer than those of fellow artists in the magazine. He enjoyed drawing dragons, poker-playing reindeer and Santa Claus, whom he once depicted, surrounded by elves, accepting an award “on behalf of all the little people who did so much to make it possible.”

Wilson’s cartoons poked fun at the blandness of human response to trauma and danger. “You think I’m obligated to come across now, don’t you, you male chauvinist pig!?” says a disenchanted damsel to her exhausted knight and rescuer in a Playboy cartoon. In another one, an airplane pilot’s view of the landscape is a Monopoly board.

In the early 1970s, Wilson moved to London, where he worked in animation. After returning to the United States, he was an animator on the Disney films “The Little Mermaid,” “The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” “Tarzan” and “Hercules.” He was awarded a daytime Emmy for his animation on “Schoolhouse Rock!” His cartoon collection, The Whites of Their Eyes, was published in 1962.

The New York Times and Los Angeles Times contributed to this report.

On the discussion board Animation Nation, an illuminating post by Michael Hirsh:

Oddly enough, I read this news just as I finished optimizing some scans of the painting guides he handed out to us background painters at Don Bluth’s studio in Ireland. (Link in post below)

Rowland was a good mentor to me in those days. As well as contributing to the art direction of Thumbelina, he also acted as the live action reference for one of the characters in the film; King Colbert.

As they say in Ireland: “His likes will not be seen in these parts again”.
…
If you would like to view the background artist’s painting guides written and illustrated by Rowland, you can download them here:

Layout Composition (3 pages)
Illusion of Space (4 pages)
Painting Light (4 pages)

These scans have been optimized for printing out onto A4 paper. They are around 1Mb each.

I did not have (or could not find) the colour version of the Illusion of Space painting guide, but it still makes sense if you take the time to read it. [Smile]

The guides are delightful, not to mention beautiful and useful, both for visual artists and the rest of us. “Leave some air or breathing space for the eye to rest in.” “In the best Disney layouts, the lights describe the objects. The light-struck parts emerge from basically one tone of shadow. Study them.” “The importance of harmony cannot be overstressed.” “Be a witness. Make your picture what the witness saw.”

Gallery of Wilson images [theispot]
Eight Wilson illustrations [Graphic Collectibles]
Rowland B. Wilson, R.I.P. [Cartoon Brew]

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Great news for 14-year-old boys!


The Island is out soon, and it’s got everything you want in a movie, like:

  • Scarlett Johansson’s lips! Moist and kissable, though you won’t have to see more actual kissing than you can handle. Good (short) introduction to the tongue concept.
  • Ewan McGregor with an accent you can understand (for most of the movie, anyway). Don’t worry, he keeps his clothes on.
  • LOTS of running. So many chase scenes, dizzying heights, and explosions you’ll lose count, and an awesome sneak peek at the video game.
  • Pretty explicit surgeries.
  • A crabby lunch lady with messy hair and 1950s glasses.
  • A whole bunch of high-tech vehicles, like sort-of-futuristic cars with really slow automatic doors, regular helicopters, and flying motorcycles. Also cool sky-rails and stuff from Metropolis, Back to the Future Part II, and lots of other movies. Don’t forget about Blade Runner and Tron!
  • A bad guy who collects modern art.
  • A sweet handgun case.
  • An extended gag about a fat guy who thinks (mistakenly!) that his normal buddy might be gay.
  • Steve Buscemi’s crazy boxer shorts.
  • Little mechanical spiders that crawl into your eyes and scan your cortex. Then you pee them out. Ow, dude!!
  • Scarlett’s long blonde hair, which is always perfectly arranged like on the poster. And her face never gets scuffed like Ewan’s. Actually, she looks kinda like Pam Anderson here, but younger and way less fake.
  • A funny misunderstanding about “taking a dump.”
  • Whenever there’s love stuff, a choir sings and a whole bunch of light bursts from behind their heads so they sort of glow, especially Scarlett.
  • A cold-blooded, mean black killer, who luckily has a soft heart for tears and a searing memory of his tribal past.
  • Some really cool products, which you’ll see a bunch of times because their brand names are printed really big.
  • Hardly any gushy character development or dumb female initiative.
  • Lots of puzzling plot holes for you and your friends to analyze for weeks afterwards.
  • Two words: white jumpsuits.

Best of all, you can get in! It’s rated PG-13 for “intense sequences of violence and action, some sexuality and language,” but that “some” is really pushing it. As for language, most of it is either science-y stuff or Ewan yelling “Run! Come on! Run!” Sometimes Scarlett goes “Look out!” They made this movie just for you, so beg your parents now to let you see it as soon as it comes out. Comes out. Heh.

Our Mr. Ross


Many years ago, the Louisville Courier-Journal hired my dad as a reporter (the police beat and books, if I’m not mistaken) for a spell. This week, they make another good call in singling out Alex Ross’ excellent blog:

The Rest is Noise (www.therestisnoise.com)—Speaking of downtownish perspectives, you’d have a difficult time finding any critic who writes more persuasively about difficult new music than Alex Ross, the music critic of The New Yorker magazine. His blog is a somewhat more freewheeling affair than his New Yorker column and often references other blogs in discussions of myriad subjects. You get the feeling that Ross has a superb ear—he doesn’t describe as much as re-animate—and he treats contemporary music with a depth, respect and passion that are rare and refreshing.

Music Blogs [Louisville Courier-Journal]

Cartoon caption contest: You know the drill

Today’s Beaver County (PA) Times celebrates what’s probably the funniest caption so far in the new series, “It’s me, ‘9,’ from yoga class,” and its self-deprecating dentist author. The man lives in a town with “quip” right in the middle of it! Naturally he’s got the right stuff to win. Not to mention that Cafrelli spends most of his day looking at people upside down; that’s got to spark the imagination.

Aliquippa dentist Robert Cafrelli got published in the July 4 issue of the NEW YORKER magazine.

It wasn’t like pulling teeth or anything. Cafrelli just thought up six words, and viola, he was the winner of the erudite magazine’s cartoon caption contest.

“I just did it for fun,” said Cafrelli, who for his efforts wins an autographed copy of the cartoon for which he supplied words. While a framed copy might look good in his Sheffield Road dentist’s office, he said he probably will display the cartoon at home.

A New Yorker subscriber who appreciates the magazine’s articles on theater, nightclubs and sports, Cafrelli had been paying attention to the weekly cartoon caption contest, but at first none of the wordless cartoons moved him.

But a cartoon showing a woman shaped like a No. 6 “kind of spoke to me,” said Cafrelli, who figures his brevity helped his caption win. “It was short and right to the point,” he said.

Sports? Like this week’s Kevin Conley piece on young and restless poker champs? It’s a pretty good story, actually, though I get bored by cards very quickly. My favorite fact is that poker ace Jennifer Harman, who (writes Conley) “may be the best female poker player anywhere in the world,” has almost the same name as Beth Harmon, world chess champion in a better place than this one. Jennifer Harman, who gets insufficient coverage in the piece, is a celebrated poker beauty as well as a gifted player and dogged survivor of two kidney transplants. Much as I love Gahan Wilson, his caricature of Harman makes her look more Middle Earth than Smart Olsen Twin. Poke her, indeed. In any case, even if you can’t focus on the details of Texas hold-’em, you’ll like Conley’s Word Freak-ish approach (without the personal learning curve, though that may be in the probable future book).

Mid-piece and especially in the following story on Guantánamo Bay, I also decided I don’t love the all-by-one-guy spots. I love the spot artists, but not the running Story in the Spots. I’m finding they not only distract the eye from the text in a new way but are oddly insulting to it. I’l explain this more clearly another time, when I finally post that Times piece about the Spot Revolution. I also miss the old, odd, random spots. I don’t like change in my traditions. Anyway, congratulations, Dr. Cafrelli! Can I have the bubble-gum fluoride this time?

Local guy deep 6’s New Yorker contest [Beaver County Times; includes Koren’s drawing plus Cafrelli’s caption]

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(7.11&18.05 and 8.02.04 issues) Echoes of Madrid

Responding to the news of the London terror bombings, the magazine has added a link, on newyorker.com, to Lawrence Wright’s 2004 piece “The Terror Web.” (“Were the Madrid bombings part of a new, far-reaching jihad being plotted on the Internet?”)

FROM THE ARCHIVE
The Madrid Operation
This week’s bombings of London mass transit drew immediate comparisons to last year’s attacks on Madrid’s commuter rail. In this article from August, 2004, Lawrence Wright looks at what Madrid revealed about Al Qaeda’s global strategy.

In light of everything, be sure not to skip Jane Mayer’s story on the immoral interrogations and mistreatment of detainees at Guantánamo Bay, as well as Mayer’s online-only Q. & A. with Amy Davidson: “I was surprised by how much the Department of Defense let me see…”

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Cartoon caption contest: Clownspeak, revealed

You know the clown-date drawing whose caption entries are being judged as we speak? From the consistently excellent and entirely representative Overheard in New York, here’s what the clown said right before she dumped him:

Guy: So, I went on this audition, and they asked me, “Can you juggle and ride a unicycle?” I mean, I can juggle, and I can ride a unicycle, but I can’t do both at once, I’m not a skills clown. Basically, my skill is falling. I can fall really well.

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What a difference a Day O’Connor makes

This just in from Minor Tweaks: the first draft of O’Connor’s resignation letter. Also, from the current Time:

Self-reliance was also a political value: her father Harry was a staunch opponent of Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal. And it was a reason to respect knowledge: O’Connor’s mother Ada Mae, a college graduate, would read to her from the New Yorker and the Wall Street Journal, and when Sandra was 5 years old she went to El Paso, Texas, where she lived with her grandmother and went to Radford, a private girls’ school. All this and more…

Where it will all end, knows God.

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“Spoilt children”

From the BBC website’s page for accounts of and opinions on the London bombing, mostly from Londoners:

Yesterday, we were annoyed with Londoners and English people. London won the [Olympic 2012] games and Paris lost them. And today we wake up. We realise that these little fights between old friends are for spoilt children. We are all facing a huge challenge. We have all to fight terrorism. We are all Londoners today. We all feel sad and share the pain of the one who are suffering today. Do not worry my friends, we will be with you in this fight and we will win it.
Julien, Paris, France
…
Our hearts are with you today London. Please know that those responsible do not represent us in the Arab/Islamic world.
Sufyan, Doha, Qatar

We Belong Together Remix Remix


Everyone’s saying it. Just for instance, Dave Morris in the ever-bright Eye:

Back here in North America, mixtapes are like, so hot right now. For bringing them to the attention of the hipsterati, you can thank Sasha Frere-Jones [blog] at The New Yorker [here’s the link], the Pitchfork singles column and DJ Nick “Catchdubs” Barat, the latter of whom has lately played No. 1 spinna to everyone from M.I.A. to A-Trak. Whether or not you think glossies like The Fader (where Barat is also an editor) ought to be criticized for acting like they invented hip-hop culture, you may still take a step back upon seeing the title of Barat’s Saul Williams (pictured [see link]) mixtape, called Real Niggery Vol. 1…. More.

I’m also intrigued by this Morris note:

How to make hip-hop: sift two parts creativity, one part boredom and add a wealth of cheap, outmoded technology. Stir, bake for a couple of decades at high heat, and voila — bona fide street culture. Judging from their blank cassette museum (see Totally Wired, May 19, 2005) and now DJ Artyom, pioneer of the cassette turntable, dare we suggest that Russia is going to be the site of the next happening music scene? Artyom’s set-up looks basic, but his mixing gets better as his Love Sex Music tape progresses. We don’t know what a Russian “Rapper’s Delight” would sound like, but it’s only a matter of time before we find out. (www.soundresearch.narod.ru/engcassettedj.htm)

[From Artyom’s site: “You can download and listen to samples from this tape. I apologize for curvature in the first mix – it because Donna Summer strongly groaned :-).”]

Love Sex Music mixtape

Just today I was thinking about new Russian music and how I don’t have any. If you have recommendations, please send them.

The New New Yorker [Sickamore, MixtapeMurder]
Mixtape Mania [Chantelle Fiddy’s World of Grime]

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