My Buddy: Patti Smith Remembers Sam Shepard
▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/my-buddy-sam-shepard
Patti Smith remembers her friend Sam Shepard, the actor and playwright, who died recently. Source: The New Yorker
My Buddy: Patti Smith Remembers Sam Shepard
▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/my-buddy-sam-shepard
Patti Smith remembers her friend Sam Shepard, the actor and playwright, who died recently. Source: The New Yorker
The Graphic Designer Who Maps the World’s Cities by Smell - The New Yorker
▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/the-smelly-pleasures-of-exploring-cities-nose-first
Smell has long been dismissed as the second-class citizen of our senses—the “most ungrateful” and “most dispensable,” according to Immanuel Kant, who, echoing Plato and Aristotle, praised vision as our “noblest” sense. But, on a recent Sunday, I spent the afternoon placing full faith in my nose, sticking it into garbage cans, restaurant exhaust vents, and within sniffing distance of my fellow-pedestrians on a stretch of the Lower East Side deemed New York’s smelliest block. The excursion started uneventfully, when I detected familiar fumes of gasoline on Delancey Street, but turning onto Eldridge toward Broome I confronted a pungent, intriguing miasma of garlic, cigarette smoke, rotten melon, roasted meat, and plastic. I trailed this scent to further whiffs of steamed dough and menthol outside a massage parlor, then got distracted by a cloud of incense and darted after it in pursuit—directly into the path of an oncoming biker, whom I admittedly hadn’t smelled coming.
#cartographie #cartographie_sensible #cartographie_des_fragrances #cartographie_des_odeurs
Je suis sidéré par le nombre de messages et leur intérêt indubitable, attristé par mon incapacité à tout lire, gérer, exploiter. Snif !
Pas de panique c’est (heureusement) pas tous les jours. Parfois, je poste ce que j’ai accumulé par ailleurs où je picore sur les listes que je reçois. L’idée ici c’est bien entendu de partager, mettre à la disposition de toutes et tous qui elles/eux mêmes picorent ce qui les intéressent, mais aussi de référencer ces signalements avec des mots clés, pour pourvoir retrouver facilement dans le futur. Seenthis est en même temps un lieu de partage, un lieu d’archivage, un lieu de débat, un lieu d’information, bref un multi-lieu.
Our Part in the Darkness - The New Yorker
▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/our-part-in-the-darkness
I remember when the photographs of torture at Abu Ghraib came to light. The response was similar. This is not us. Those soldiers were rotten. It began at the top, with George W. Bush, and it filtered down. But we would never do such a thing. Of course, we did do those things, and we kept on doing them over and over, and doing worse. Some objected, but most of us simply moved on, chose to forget. “No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible,” the Polish poet Stanisław Jerzy Lec once wrote.
Trump bans Muslims and we claim that this is un-American, that we are not this. I don’t have to talk up “ancient” history to show that we are. I won’t bring up settler colonialism, genocide, and land theft, or harp on slavery, or internment camps for Japanese-Americans. I won’t refer to the Page Act banning those deemed “undesirable,” the Chinese Exclusion Act, the Asiatic Barred Zone Act, or the Emergency Quota Act. I don’t have to mention the hundreds of thousands of Mexicans deported in the nineteen-thirties, or the thousands of Jews escaping Nazi violence who were turned away. It was F.D.R., not Trump, who claimed that Jewish immigrants could threaten national security. I won’t mention any of this, because this happened so long ago. We can always delude ourselves by saying that America was this but now we are better. Let me just say that in 2010 and 2011, state legislatures passed a hundred and sixty-four anti-immigration laws.
Postscript : #John_Berger, 1926-2017 - The New Yorker
▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/postscript-john-berger-1926-2017
Last Monday, I learned of John Berger’s death, at the age of ninety, while walking with my daughter along a beach in Florida watching the sunset redden the water, and maybe that’s why the first work of his that flared up in my mind was his tiny essay on the painter J. M. W. Turner. I had not read it in twenty years. The essay was written in 1972, the same year Berger wrote his most famous book, “Ways of Seeing,” hosted a TV series of the same name, and won the Booker Prize for his novel “G.” “Turner and the Barber’s Shop” suggests a possible relation between Turner’s childhood experiences as the son of a barber, what he must have so often seen in the shop, and his innovations as a painter. Berger writes:
Video: The Monster in the Mountains - The New Yorker
▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/video-the-monster-in-the-mountains?intcid=mod-latest
It’s been six months since forty-three students from the Ayotzinapa Normal School went missing in the town of Iguala, in Guerrero, one of Mexico’s poorest and most violent states. In the indigenous communities of La Montaña and the Costa Chica, where many of the students lived, the disappearances are only one example of the crime, corruption, and impunity that plague the region. As abel Herrara Hernandez, a human-rights activist, said, “Here in the mountains . . . you live with the demons.”
This short film, based on the work of the photographer Matt Black, shows how families of the missing are coping with the still unexplained loss of their loved ones, and how citizens are struggling to protect themselves, and to preserve hope.
Guerrero and the Disappeared
Slide show ▻http://www.newyorker.com/culture/photo-booth/guerrero-and-the-disappeared
Photographe Matt Black:
►http://www.mattblack.com
#photographie #Mexique #violence Guerrero #perte #familles