Word: throated
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Walk around the airy orange-and-yellow-hued loft of Rumpus Toys in New York City. Stick your hand down the throat of a plush Gus Gutz and remove his stuffed organs. Toy companies are supposed to be like this--creative places where adults dream up wacky stuff for kids. "I make the kinds of toys I love to play with," explains the 29-year-old founder, Laurence Schwarz, standing next to a showroom of Harry Hairballs, a cat whose stomach contains fish bones, slippers and hair balls. "We don't put this stuff through focus groups or watch kids...
...than just forgettable rave fodder. Aphrodite's usual hip-hop soundbites are topped with a mix of organic, ambient clips ranging from jazz horns to ethereal female vocals. Especially notable is the fun treatment of the rude saxophone lick from DJ Kool's party anthem "Let Me Clear My Throat" on the track "B. M. Funkster." A solid contribution to the drum 'n bass catalogue and a good choice for the budding electronic music fan looking to explore the world beyond the Chemical Brothers and Fatboy Slim...
...every word." Did her philosophy students ever question her about the moral dimensions of her dilemma? "No, no, no. They come to me and say, 'Oh, your husband's so wonderful, you're so lucky to be married to such an ethical man.'" She sticks a finger down her throat and pretends to gag. David laughs uncomfortably. As she speaks, he listens, careful not to interrupt; when it is his turn, he seems to tread lightly...
...canvas sneakers with holes, a pair of yellowed sweat socks, denim shorts, a beaten cap, a Patagonia vest, of course, and a T shirt bearing the words CUTTHROAT BUSINESSMAN. It is a reference to the cutthroat trout he would like to catch (named for the red slash across its throat) and to the antithesis of the sort of businessman he is. He glides from rock to rock like the champion mountain climber he also once was, while I muddle wildly, tottering like a top at the end of its spin, tangling my fishing line and attempting to heed my instructor...
...yammering about death. Tracey Emin's canvas tent called Everyone I Have Ever Slept With (1995) is done inside with crudely laid-out names and notes about old paramours. It camps out a short distance from Mona Hatoum's more elegant but hardly deep creation (despite its title, Deep Throat): a dining table with proper tablecloth and silver, and a plate whose bottom is a video screen showing the travels of an invasive camera down a human gullet...