Q. o’ th’ D.: A. O. Scott

…in this week’s Times Sunday Magazine.


“The afterglow of your unique, youthful experiences — the kisses and cigarettes and cups of espresso that followed the movie, as much as the film itself — cast a harsh, flat light on the present, when you sit at home watching a DVD with a cup of herbal tea as your spouse dozes next to you on the couch. But don’t blame Hollywood for that!”


Guess Who?


Your first answer is… wrong.


Dave Brubeck, 1920-2012







Time and Pictorialism

How are photographs supposed to look? Where might photojournalism fall on the spectrum between comfort and engagement?







Anne Brigman, The Bubble, 1909

What would George Santayana have to say about all this?

Or this: http://lightbox.time.com/2012/10/25/a-vibrant-past-colorizing-the-archives-of-history/#1


It Was Nineteen Years Ago Today


Francis V. Zappa, 1940-1993

 “What do you make of a society that is so primitive that it clings to the belief that certain words in its language are so powerful that they could corrupt you the moment you hear them?”


Kindred Spirits


Larry Hagman was often asked for autographs by his fans but, unlike other stars, he would always ask the person to either sing him a song or tell him a joke in exchange of this signature. He explained that he was “getting something back” from the autograph seekers. (He eventually stopped the joke-telling custom because fans kept coming up with off-color jokes.



Shelly Manne’s definition of jazz musicians: “We never play anything the same way once.”



Bill Murray: “One of my habits is I don’t do exactly what you want me to do.”

“Gilda showed up and she’d already had cancer and gone into remission and then had it again, I guess. We hadn’t seen her in a long time. And she started doing, ‘I’ve got to go,’ and she was just going to leave… It felt like she was going to really leave forever. So we started carrying her around, in a way that we could only do with her. We just kept carrying her; we did it in teams… upside down, every which way — over your shoulder and under your arm, carrying her like luggage… We worked all aspects of it, but it started with just, ‘She’s leaving, I don’t know if you’ve said good-bye to her.’ And we said good-bye to the same people ten, twenty times, you know. And because these people were really funny, every person we’d drag her up to would just do like five minutes on her, with Gilda upside down in this sort of tortured position, which she absolutely loved. She was laughing so hard we could have lost her right then and there.”