Art critic, film critic do battle in NY Magazine

This is definitely not a still from Christian Marclay's "The Clock." [Image: still from Disney's animated Cinderella wherein Cinderella transforms amidst a profusion of sparkle]

NY Magazine (which I receive in print form because it is the ultimate literature with which to stock the bathroom-- much better than Interview and Foreign Policy) regularly runs short art essays by mega-famous art critic Jerry Saltz (and the occasional feature: the "How To Make It In The Art World" issue was good). This week they paired Jerry Saltz with film critic David Edelstein to discuss Christian Marclay's video art piece, "The Clock." Saltz gushes over the "abstract narrative forms"; Edelstein calls the piece, "breathtakingly unimaginative."

Midnight for Cinderella [image: Cinderella breaks from Prince Charming's grasp as the clock strikes midnight]

It's a fun read, not too long, and I loved the down-to-Earth creative choice to pair the two critics. I'm also excited that the Art World is finally collectively excited about something cool instead of a stunning display of wasted wealth. As far as I know neither Louis Vuitton nor Fiat nor any of the other usual suspects have inane spin-offs, no custom yachts were involved, no platinum-dipped trains dangling over NY from a chain of diamonds.

Midnight for Pongo [Image: still from Disney's animated 1961 "The 101 Dalmations" wherein Pongo (the dalmation dude) looks on as Roger (the human dude) warms Pongo's sickly newborn puppy and gnaws anxiously on his pipe]

"The Clock" is just a 24-hour collection of movie clips where the time is shown, playing in real time in a theater. So the piece functions as an actual clock as well as a film.

Midnight for Ariel [image: still from Disney's animated Little Mermaid from the "kiss the girl" scene wherein Eric and Ariel are in a boat with fireflies lighting up and fish making a synchronized swimming fountain around them by spitting water]

I remember when someone or other made "24-Hour Psycho" by slowing the classic film frame by frame so it filled a 24-hour span. It came to a museum where I used to live and I got to spend some time watching it play out-- just 20 minutes or so, you'd have to be Bruce Nauman to sit through the whole thing-- and even with such a simple concept, actually experiencing the march of time in front of a screen in a gallery is an extremely powerful tool. I'm not surprised so many artists are engaging with it.

Midnight for Philip [Image: still from Disney's animated Sleeping Beauty wherein a rascally Maleficent (the evil witch / queen) holds a candle to illuminate Prince Philip (who is totally not the same person as Prince Charming or Eric) who is tied up in her attic]

 In case you haven't noticed I've illustrated this post with scenes of midnight around the Disney Princess universe ("princessphere"?). I was going to show Disney clocks striking various times chronologically throughout this post, but midnight seems to be featured disproportionately in the princessphere (along with the far less punctual, "final wilting of the really important flower") so I used what was available. I suppose Disney is doing their part to nurture that nagging suspicion that all the really cool stuff happens after you go to bed.

ETA: There's some more lite criticism of "The Clock" here. I'll post links to more as I run across it.

Midnight for Ursula [image: still from Disney's animated Little Mermaid wherein Ursula throws herself against a piece of coral in a melodramatic show of anguish]

The Female Voice

 Flavia Dzodan at TigerBeatDown posted an essay about Lana Del Ray and how she embodies the phase in most girls' lives when they yearn to be that pretty cool girl. Dzodan argues that despite criticism Del Ray has garnered from male music writers about her gender performance, there is nothing anti-feminist about expressing those feelings. I enjoyed the post as I always enjoy Dzodan's writing but I'm not wild about the trend of young feminist bloggers who go pour over pop music videos to extract potentially feminist "messages" for analysis. I'm all for analyzing pop culture but bloggers seem afraid to admit that when big producers pluck a youth from obscurity and spend thousands on a video of her writhing angrily in a couture onesie mouthing sexy lyrics to a song produced by men, there is no feminist message. "But her onesie has punk spikes on it! Her hair is in a faux-hawk! But now it's pin-up retro! She was just writhing around on a cross! What does it mean?" Nothing. It means some rich guy said to some other rich guy, "this will make us money." The feminist analysis could be better spent on how the public receives the video, on changing trends, industry shakeups, who gets ignored and why, that sort of thing.

But I digress.

What Flavia's post made me think is that people all have the same complaint about new pop singers on the scene: "She can't even sing." I seem to be squarely in the minority (as always) in enjoying unusual or raw female voices like Bjork, Missy Eliot, and Kim Deal while unable to appreciate Celine Dion, whose voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I don't usually hear this complaint about male singers, particularly with rock and hip-hop (Kanye West? can't sing. Jack White? can't sing. Not like American Idols, anyway. But I've never heard any complaints.). By the time the full weight of The Industry instructs the public to like a certain singer, they will like her. But the public isn't comfortable with that awkward in-between time when the rookie singer herself is saying, "like me." But that's not my main point either:

A male singer's voice symbolizes his expression, his intentions, his words. A woman's voice symbolizes her appearance. That's why a woman's voice must fit in the narrow box of pretty-sounding performance. She must be "a natural." She must preserve The Voice as she ages and not sound gravelly. The Voice must have a showy feminine range and look good naked sound perfect in a live acoustic performance. If she can't belt it out with the voluptuous strength of Christina Aguilera she may opt to emulate a pre-adolescent voice like Britney Spears (kinky!) or a lithe slender whisper like... well, Brandy is the most recent one to come to mind.

Ezra Jack Keats at the Contemporary Jewish Museum

I found out via Apartment Therapy that Ezra Jack Keats, the illustrator of Snowy Day, Peter's Chair and Whistle for Willie, will have a show of his illustrations at the Contemporary Jewish Museum.

An illustration from Ezra Jack Keats' The Snowy Day. [Image: an African American kid in a red snowsuit stands in a mound of snow in front of an orange, pink and yellow wall and stoplight. It has a mod 1950s jazzy collage look like West Side Story.]

In high school I interned with an ESL (English as a Second Language) class at my former elementary school and spent a lot of time reading aloud from my old favorites from the library. I appreciated The Snowy Day much more as an adult than as a kid, especially since I resented stories about winter as it never snowed much in my home town. I wonder if this book was part of the inspiration behind the Rhapsody in Blue cartoon in the new Fantasia?

Three stills from Disney's Fantasia's Rhapsody in Blue. [Image: cartoon men in front of cityscapes in monotone color pallets]