Constance Jablonski by Greg Kadel and styled by Elizabeth Sulcer, for Vogue Italia.
(Source: fuks, via frankielulu)
lost again, found, again
Timothy photographed by Walt Cessna Bklyn 11
Say Hi (to Your Mom)
March 7 @ The Bowery Ballroom
20hrs / $15
Eric Elbogen has been making music in Brooklyn since leaving his hometown of Seattle in 2002. There is no one else to mention. Eric is the only vocalist/musician. He lays down all the music for every track and narrates the sonic tapestry with his own haunted lyrical style, pulling it all together with a precise, professional production. Truly impressive in that the dude makes some gorgeous tunes. Impressive from a creative standpoint because few people, I think, will have the talent ability to make one cohesive song like this, much less 8 albums as Eric has done.
As for indie rock demigods, I think Eric as earned a seat at the table. His raw musical talent and stylistic vision (bubblegum pop synth tweaks, electronic wave sets and clap-tracks often sit juxtaposed with a solid indie sound) set him apart from most everyone. I can’t help but to wonder, however, how much stronger his music would be if he started working other musicians. The creative process thrives in a collaborative environment as ideas ricochet from one person to the next gaining strength, momentum, depth and sophistication. Maybe if he had some creative input in 2005 and 2006 he wouldn’t have produced two albums about vampires inspired by Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But I guess that’s the glorious delight of freedom in being independent and unsigned, you can do whatever you fucking want.
Whatever, the guy makes some awesome music. Go see him tonight at the Bowery.
The Brooklyn Bridge.
It was so incredibly windy and cold out there. The way the clouds picked up all the light pollution makes this especially haunting.
NYC-Williamsburg bridge 1998
by Spencer Tunik
Rossy de Palma, Picassoesque fashion icon
:: Cheryl Party :: -
March 12 @ The Bell House (Gowanus Canal, Brooklyn)
23hrs / $10
Cheryl parties are for the kids that have done a little maturing, have finished school, got a job, and got past hipster drudgery of being über-cool. It’s a party for seasoned urbanites whose sensibilities leap from a global perspective and whose liberal sophistication has settled into a dignified understatement. This party ignores cut-and-dry identity politics of boy or girl, white or not, hetero or homo. It’s not a crusty grunge fest of unbathed, dreadlocked and bearded artist-hippy-tripster types, but it’s absolutely defined by artistic expression. As their website states, the group behind the party is “known for its video art, museum installations, performances and dance parties. CHERYL explores the themes of mortality, mania, the feline-human connection, the limits of shoulders, the flammability of dollar-store hair extensions, and the staining power of fake blood.”
While I am curious to know how exactly they explore themes of the feline-human connection and the limits of shoulders on a conceptual level, I can tell you that their dance parties deftly walk the narrow space between pits of spastic aesthetics and churning mayhem, which means you’re going to have all kinds of crazy unexpected fun. Think funhouse bizzarity on a LSD and MDMA cocktail. The music is wound tight for quick moves, and the dance performance interludes inspire an always-refreshing WTF?? There is no judgment, and no one is demanding common glamour. Just whack it all together in a laugh (essential costume elements are hair, glitter, fake blood, kitty-cat masks and shoulder pads, and yes, people really do dress up) and get on with your night.