The ingeniousness of the Windowfarms Project is that from the beginning Britta Riley didn’t keep it to herself. It’s easy to imagine a parallel story in another universe: the mad scientist toiling away, alone in a laboratory, striving to build the invention that will change the world.
I’m almost embarrassed to confess I’ve only just recently made the acquaintance of Wayne Thiebaud’s work. The man’s been painting upwards of 70 years and spent much of his time in California. I, despite my accumulation of years in New York, also consider California my home. There’s really no excuse.
Hand turkey. You know you’ve made one. And if you haven’t, well, perhaps it’s time you did.
In the era of food trucks, pop-up shops and temporary restaurants, when even underground dance parties are thrown in the bays of parked U-Haul trucks, it’s surprising that more of the art world isn’t getting on board with this wonderfully lo-fi business model that optimizes exposure through social media and the Internet and requires minimal entry costs. Enter Show and Tell, an ambitious foray into the world of the DIY mobile gallery organized by Sierra Stinson, a Seattle-based artist and part-time gallerist, and Victoria Yee Howe, a New York-based conceptual artist and former pastry chef.
Roberta’s, that beloved Bushwick pizza joint, has been tapped to run the cafe at the BMW Guggenheim Lab, a pop-up urban think tank of sorts that opened earlier this month on a narrow, otherwise forgotten plot of land on East First Street owned by the Department of Parks & Recreation.
I understand why the metaphors between art and food work: art is “nourishing” to your soul; a chef is an “artist,” his plate the “canvas,” and so on and so forth. Unfortunately, these metaphors are such cozy bedfellows that they’ve all but become cliche. Which is why, when I first heard that a Neapolitan pizzeria/gallery had opened in midtown Manhattan — as in, an authentic, Naples-style restaurant plus a gallery space, so intertwined that the name, PizzArte, is a mashup of the two — my first thought was that this had to be a gimmick.
Lucky Peach debut issue (mcsweeneys.net/luckypeach) It only takes one look at the cover of the debut issue of Lucky Peach to realize that this isn’t your typical food ‘zine. No glossy photo of an impeccably styled dish here; instead, there’s a dead chicken being held unceremoniously upside down by its feet, its pale, thin, pocky […]