Word: tinning
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...three of us were exiled to the most dismal sub-sub-basement, a cave at the bitter end of the cellar, past the presses and the half-tone machine. Our putrid little home glistened with slime-mold, reeked of ink, photo chemicals, and rot, and was cluttered with mysterious tin buckets sloshing with murky green chemicals. The stink would make us slightly queasy, but during good weeks, also slightly stoned. It was wonderful! I still miss...
What makes film such a powerful medium is that it combines the randomness of a performance (the camera performs, the actors perform, the production designer performs) with the indelibility of the final print. The problem with computer technology, besides allowing these tin-britched anal retentives to bleach E.T. of any distressing theme, is that it diminishes the performative aspect of movies. In Sean Penn’s recent movie The Pledge, Robin Wright Penn was digitally given a gap tooth in post-production. Every move, every twitch, is perfectly calculated. No longer do actors interact with the special effects?...
...stylization that does not always agree with the somber tone of the play. To be fair, some of the abstraction works well: the aforementioned background wall is effective and reminds one of a similar style of setting discussed in the stage directions for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The tilting planes of the two-tiered stage also jar the audience in a fashion aptly representative of the distorted dreams of the Prozorovs...
...traditional four or five piece band, Slipknot are a nine-man unit comprised of two guitarists, one drummer, two “custom percussionists” (who bash kegs, tin drums and each other at various points), a bassist, a DJ, a sampler and a vocalist. The result of this strange amalgamation of participants is that one moment the guitars are muted and pulsing, vocals slickly rapped over with a mild hip-hop scratching, and the next a double bass drum is rumbling, the guitars are screeching, and the lead vocalist is screaming as if his lungs were on fire...
...once said "It occurs to me that New York is about to acquire a history, that it already has its ruins. This to adorn with a little softness the harshest city in the world." Yes, we have our ruins. We also have our songwriters. In the glory days of Tin Pan Alley, so-called songpluggers used to accost vaudeville vocalists, pushing them to perform their new compositions in hopes that they would make them into hits. New York is still just as aggressive, just as hungry, when it comes to songwriting. If Sting (who has an apartment in New York...