A Vanity Fair Affair

As the saying goes: all is fair in love and war. Well, whether you love them or hate them, you can’t deny they make up a fair looking group.

Katherine Hepburn by Cecil Beaton

To commemorate the 95th anniversary of its debut (and the 25th anniversary of its modern resumption) Vanity Fair has teamed up with the National Portrait Gallery in London, England to present a star-studded array of almost 150 iconic photographs from both its vintage period and modern periods.

Bette Davis by Maurice Goldberg

Vanity Fair has always been on the front lines of cultural cosmopolitanism and nowhere is that more clear than this exhibit. The subjects include everyone from Ernest Hemingway, Albert Einstein and Pablo Picasso to Cary Grant, Madonna, and Tom Cruise. The photographic credits are no less impressive, including Harry Benson, Man Ray, and of course Annie Leibovitz. 

Julianne Moore by Michael Thompson

The exhibit’s on at the ROM until January 3rd. This is the only Canadian stop for the exhibition plus, only the ROM will give you an exclusive peek at a portrait of Lord Conrad Black with his wife, Barbara Amiel. Don’t miss it.

Hilary Swank by Norman Jean Roy

Stop Whining and Start Wining

Yes we know – you’re busy and you’re broke and the holidays are coming and it’s depressing. Here’s the good news: you can partake in some intoxicating holiday “festivities” for bottom dollar and still feel fancy.

This year’s crop of Beaujolais Nouveau wines have hit the shelves.

Now I’m sure you’re thinking that sounds like the most pretentious thing you’ve ever heard and, to be honest, it used to be. In the 80s, people used to have huge parties on the third Thursday of November, flying the wines in to be uncorked at the stroke of midnight.

But their wine was like Ashley Simpson: a whole lot of show with no singing. This year, on the other hand, the long, sunny growing season means the Beaujolais’ are supposed to be the best in 50 years. Best of all, you’ll be hard-pressed to find one over $15 at your local LCBO.

So throw them on ice, break out some appetizers (apparently hard cheeses, pâtés, and prosciutto are the way to go) and get your drink on.

Gord Stimmell, wine critic at the Toronto Star, recommends the following (all of which are available at the LCBO):

Georges Duboeuf Beaujolais-Villages Nouveau (France) $14.95

Georges Duboeuf Gamay Nouveau (France) $8.95

Albert Bichot Beaujolais Nouveau (France) $12.95

Mezzacorona Novio Vino Novello (Italy) $9.95

Negrar Novello del Veneto IGT (Italy) $9.95

(The predominant tastes are supposed to be cherries and bubblegum.)

For anyone who wants to play pretentious, here’s a clip of Stimmell trying and ranking the wines.

Is it The End or the Beginning?

(If this seems off-topic, I apologize - it's for class. But feel free to read it anyway.)

Remember the Y2K paranoia? People could do nothing but stockpile canned foods, bottled water and AA batteries while they waited for the Dark Age. Emotions ran high and panic ran, well, everywhere really.

Sure enough, at the stroke of midnight, everyone was fine – sheepish but fine (not to mention ridiculously well-equipped for a romantic dinner of canned tuna by candlelight).

The End, CBC’s three part series on the fate of traditional media, beckons me back to that time. Hosted by Jian Ghomeshi, The End explores new emerging digital media and the threat they pose to the survival of terrestrial radio, television, and print media.

 Over the course of the three sections, there seems to be two camps:

1. Tradition: the stodgy snobs and starchy suits preaching order, discipline and the “right” way.
2. Revolution: the young rebels, with their shaggy hair and their trendy slang, rolling their eyes and speaking in air quotes about freedom, choice and democracy. 

With radio it’s CHUM FM vs. XM Satellite.

With television it’s CNN vs. GNN (Guerilla News Network).

With print it’s Margaret Atwood vs. Google Books.

While both sides get in some good digs (my personal favorite being Margaret Atwood’s snide “Have you ever had your system crash?... Books don’t crash”), neither one seems to present a solution. They just kind of stand there, sticking their tongues out and blowing raspberries.

In the meantime, there are some who have decided to make friends and share their toys. 

The End highlights some media outlets that are working towards a middle ground. My favorite example, The New York Times, refer to themselves as “platform agnostic”: they don’t care how their content reaches the masses so long as it does. Although they still offer the print version of their magazine, they also offer it online, in podcast, on video, and along with discussions, blogs, and photography. They’ve even started mixing up the visual layout, offering everything from traditional print style to block text and bullet point. And why not?

Yes, audiences now expect choice.

Yes, audiences now expect personalization.

Yes, audiences now expect variety.

So doesn’t it make sense to offer more than ONE SINGLE SOLUTION?

I think NYT has it right. I hope when the dust settles the others are standing behind them. Actually no, scratch that - I hope the dust never settles at all. I hope media platforms continue to evolve and diversify without getting stuck in the mud ever again.

Drink Like a King

Usually, when someone gives you a tut, they’re not being complimentary. But today, the disapproval dies.

Today you are worshipped by the masses.

Today you are showered with gifts.

Today you drink like a king.

From now until next April, the Art Gallery of Ontario is hosting a King Tut exhibit, “The Golden King and the Great Pharaohs.” In its honor, the Fairmont Royal York hotelhas commissioned an honorary cocktail: the Tut-tini.

Yea, I know, shameless corporate promo, but it’s actually pretty swanky. It’s spiked with real flecks of 24-karat gold – even if you end up dumping it, you’ll still feel like a high roller haughtily washing money down the drain.

Try it yourself. With its warm spicy flavors and candy tones, it’s a great drink for the holidays. 

You’ll love it (trust me):

-Fresh Ice

-1 oz vodka (they recommend Grey Goose)

-1/2 oz Goldschlager

-1 oz butter ripple liquer

-splash of cranberry juice

Add ice to a cocktail shaker. Add other ingredients except cranberry juice. Gently shake and strain into a chilled martini glass. Top with cranberry juice. Makes 1 drink.

Finding the Spark when you're Feeling Burnt Out: Touched by Fire

You know what they say: when you play with fire you get burned. But that doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing (look at Richard Simmons). Sometimes you can harness the blaze into just the spark you need.

Enter Touched by Fire: art exhibition and gala.

Sponsored by the Mood Disorder Association of Ontario (MDAO), Touched by Fire showcases the artistic creations of artists affected by mood disorders. From anxietyand depression to bipolar disorder and seasonal affective disorder, mood disorders are enough to break even the strongest of us down into weepy self-loathing puddles of pity. But these artists don’t give in.

("Beethoven" Ingrid Vellekoop)

This event is about running the condition, not letting the condition run you. It’s about channeling its power into constructive, rather than destructive, means (that’s right, use the force, Luke). And believe me, those means bring some pretty impressive ends – just look at Michelangelo, Van Gogh or Georgia O’Keefe.

My personal favorites works are by artist Ingrid Vellekoop, who works through her clinical depression to capture the acute facial expressions of her subjects. She works with a wide range of media and does a lot of celebrity portraits. My personal favorites are her mixed media work of Beethoven and her oil painting of Bob Dylan.

("Bob Dylan" Ingrid Vellekoop)

The Touched by Fire exhibition and gala is this Thursday night (November 26^th) at the Royal Ontario Museum (if you’re interested, check out the Facebook group). If you can’t make it, be sure to check out the online gallery. It features an enormous collection of drawings, paintings, photography, digital art, and mixed media.

Laughter Really is the Best Medicine (Seriously)

My very best friend has a laugh bordering legendary. I lovingly refer to it as her banshee cackle. Despite her extremely small stature, her laugh is strong, it’s shrill, and it carries (seriously, it’s like seeing a baby burp out a Buick).

Not surprisingly, her outbursts can cause quite the scene. Sometimes people get a little embarrassed and, although they laugh too, it’s often out of nerves – like a ‘don’t make any sudden moves’ kind of thing.

As for me, I revel in it, keeling over, tearing up, and gasping for air.

And, frankly, so should everyone else.

According to HelpGuide.org, laughter is good for the mind, body, and soul: it’s a mood-booster, an ab and shoulder workout, and a focus and productivity booster (take that crusty librarians!!). 

It’s also great to ward off the flu and other icky stuff, decreasing stress hormones and increasing immune cells and infection-fighting antibodies. 

And of course, laughter shows you’ve got heart (and a healthy one at that): it improves the function of blood vessels and increases blood flow, lowering your risk for heart attack and other cardio problems.

So buck your stoic study habits and quit stockpiling cough syrup for the apocalypse. It’s time to chortle, chuckle, giggle and guffaw. You’ll thank yourself for it later (even if the disrupted bystanders don’t…)

At the Heart of Hip Hop: My Top 5

When you take off the bling, empty the bank account, and send home the bodyguards, there’s not much left to hip hop.

Or so the story goes.

But I firmly believe it can be (although not always) more than smoking mirrors. That’s why I love acoustic covers – because when you strip the songs down to their bare essentials, you’re still left with something compelling. Here are my top five:

5. I Try (Ben Taylor covering Macy Gray)

Unhindered by Gray’s gimmicky voice, you suddenly hear the very simple, but very relatable, appeal of the heartbroken everyman struggling to find closure.

4. Whatever You Like (Anya Marina covering T.I.)

(I know it’s a little trill but bear with me – it’s more the theory than the execution) 

In this rendition the cocky promises of a high-rolling sugar daddy are emptied of the glitz and glamour, leaving only the weary, emotionally bankrupt transaction between a prostitute and a proprietor.

3. Cry Me a River (Glen Hansard covering Justin Timberlake)

Hansard’s low, powerful snarl riddles this rendition with rage: to falsetto comes force, to soul comes spite. Parts of it actually sound like he’s singing through clenched teeth. This is one bitter boyfriend-past.

2. Hey Ya (Matt Weddle covering Outkast)

Without the upbeat, rapid-fire of Andre 3000, the previously overlooked lyrics emerge as a shocking surrender to a defeated love. The most surprising verse (edited for redundancy):

“If what they say is, “nothing is forever,” then what makes love the exception? So why are we so in denial when we know we’re not happy here?”

1. Crazy (Ray Lamontagne covering Gnarls Barkley)

Although I admittedly adore the original, Lamontagne’s take hits the tortured psychological battle home. There’s something about the texture of his voice that makes you feel the agony and reckless abandon of being on the brink of mental breakdown. 

Apologies for the Technical Difficulties

Hey all - I just wanted to take a brief interlude to apologize for some recent technical difficulties. For a couple of days some of the photos on the site were missing - if you tried to see them and couldn't I'm sorry. It's taken me a couple hours but the problem should be rectified.

The only thing I couldn't fix was a link to the Modelinia video (which has actually been disabled), which I have replaced with a similar one.

Sorry for any inconvenience :)

The Drive Thru Curse is Broken

It’s a well-known fact that my father is cursed by all things drive-thru: anything that can go wrong will. Recently, I’ve discovered it may be genetic.

It started with a series of leaking cups – you know, they dribble just enough to sear your flesh but you can’t drop them, or even jerk them quickly to the cupholder, for fear that the precariously placed lid will pop off. I know these details intimately because twice the lids HAVE actually popped off, bathing me in piping hot coffee. And that was just the beginning.

Needless to say, a quick trip through the drive-thru puts me on instant alert (which is particularly unfortunate since I am also afflicted with a serious caffeine addiction).

This morning was no exception. Having awoken to find my own cream had expired, I was forced to venture out into the world to scavenge for my own fix. Now, I’m a house-bred creature – casting me out into the wild doesn’t tend to end well. So there I was, ramming through the Oxford street traffic, thoroughly annoyed to be awake, and downright disgruntled to be stuck in line behind 8 other cars. A scathing six minutes later, I reached my final destination expecting the worst. Just then, as the window opened, it happened.

The employee at the window took one look at my cup, scowled disapprovingly, and quickly demanded that the coffee-pouring culprit replace the lid and wipe up the mess. She saved me. She could have looked the other way (as the busy employees often do), she could have just shoved an extra napkin my way, but she didn’t. Sure, it held up the line for an extra 30 seconds, but 2 hours later I’m still grateful.

So, to that stand-up citizen: THANK YOU!!! Your random act of kindness has not gone unnoticed. You’ve made my day and restored my faith in drive-thrus.

Well, until my next visit anyway…

Loving Book By Its Cover

Usually, when we see the phrase, “book by its cover,” we have the compulsion to cap it off with the token “don’t judge.” But Julia Rothman, Brooklyn, NY illustrator and pattern designer, resists the temptation for closure. She just lets it ride.

Love. Hate. Accept. Reject. Be captivated. Be repulsed. Be indifferent.

It makes no difference.

Just look.

(From Reyna Maria Valdes' "Cuba en la Grafica")

Rothman’s blog, “Book By Its Cover” is a collection of art and illustration books that she has collected over the years. From fine art and design to comics and children’s books, Rothman’s selections are quirky and whimsical. Most of the images feel spontaneous, like the artists were pouring the visions out of their minds and directly onto the paper.

(From Karen Klassen's Sketchbook Series)

I personally love the section devoted to sketchbooks. As a perpetual doodler myself, I find the most outlandish inspiration comes from the absent-minded scribbles. (Just last week I ended up with a full-blown boxing match in the margin of my advanced theory notebook.) Plus, sketches don’t have to make sense – they just are what they are, in, of, and for themselves.

(From Paolo Rivera's Sketchbook Series)

My personal favorite selection is Ben Chlapek’s “How Can I Be Expected to Work on a Day Like This?” You know when you’re running on empty and you start spouting random incoherencies? When your mind opens up to the strangest thoughts, all of which you find either endlessly profound or just hilarious? This is what this book feels like. It’s bizarrely charming (check out the “trees have sex when you aren’t looking” proclamation below).

(From Ben Chlapek's "How Can I Be Expected to Work on a Day Like This?")

So check it out for yourself. If you’re interested in purchasing anything you peruse, Rothman usually provides a link to the merchandise in her post.

Time for a Mental Health Day

I can hear the soles of my shoes scraping the pavement. My eyelids weigh down relentlessly as I struggle to focus through the eyelash fog. My muscles ache from hunching tensely over a stack of books and I can’t remember a time my head wasn’t throbbing with a dull, empty ache.

I am burnt out. I need a break.

This weekend, I am taking a mental health day.

I don’t care what comes up in the meantime. Even if Hugh Jackman comes pounding down my door, ripping off his shirt, telling me he can’t live without me, I will not budge. I’m going to stay in bed, turn off my phone, watch movies, order takeout and not feel bad about it.

Try it. If anyone puts you on a guilt trip, tap into the H1N1 hysteria – relaxation boosts your immune system making you less susceptible to illness (so really, you're just being a good, responsible citizen). If that doesn’t work, check out these tips for calling in sick from wikiHow.

And of course, if all else fails, just turn off your phone and blame the bus strike.

Tell Your Mother I'm Sorry But...

I love a good debate – it’s a great way to blow off steam (which is something we can all use by the end of midterm season). So, in the spirit of the lengthy response I received from my last post, I would like to take this opportunity to provide a rebuttal.

If HIMYM does prescribe to the Friends “framework” (as both my adversary and I agree it does), then its use of the formula subjects it to some measurable results. Let’s take a moment to address these comparable FACTS:

HIMYM is currently in its fifth season. By the fifth season of Friends (1998-1999),Jennifer Aniston had earned a starring role in 7 major motion pictures, David Schwimmer, Courteney Cox and Lisa Kudrow had all starred in 4, Matthew Perry had starred in 3, and Matt Leblanc had a major role in 2 films.

With the exception of Neil Patrick Harris (who I adore but who cannot be responsible for carrying this production) HIMYM doesn’t compare. To date, Josh Radnor only has 1 starring role in a major motion picture (which is currently in post-production), Alyson Hannigan also only has 1, and Cobie Smulders is still chipping away at some sideline roles. Although Jason Segel has recently starred in three big comedies, his largely typecast role as the big awkward guy seems to be fizzling out; his next three projects fall largely into the kid-comedy domain.

By their fifth season on the air, Friends had been recognized by a wide range of institutions. They had received nominations and awards for ALL of their main actors, their casting, their direction, their cinematography, their soundtrack, and the overall quality and achievement of the show.

With the exception of NPH’s recognition, none of the other HIMYM cast members have even been thrown a nod, nor have the writers or the directors. In fact, most of the show’s major award wins and nominations are for art direction and cinematography, both of which are technical aspects only.

While I thank He Who Must Not be Named (that devoted supporter who replied to my previous post with such exuberance) for the food for thought, I have to ask him and everyone: what MEASURABLE RESULT can you provide me that attests to this show’s quality? 

5 Reasons NOT to Watch How I Met Your Mother

I know this show seems to have developed a loyal fan base but I think it’s time to pull back the curtain and expose the myth. This is not good television.

1. It’s like “Friends” except no one’s hot. It’s the same thing and it’s been done (for ten seasons actually). Plus, to Jennifer Aniston and Courteney Cox we have... Alyson Hannigan and Cobie Smulders? To Matthew Perry and David Schwimmer we have...Josh Radnor and Jason Segel? Why do I feel like I’m watching bad porn?


2. The main hangout is a bar. Coincidence? I think not. It doesn’t bode well if you have to get liquored up to tolerate your own banal lives…

3. They scrape their celebrity cameos from the bottom of the barrel. Bryan Cranston, Sarah Chalke, Lyndsy Fonseca, David Henrie, Joe Manganiello, Ashley Williams: recognize any of them? Exactly. Yes I know, they have Britney Spears, but that’s like saying you’re sending Jessica Simpson to defuse a nuclear warhead (there’s a reason Britney’s acting career both started and finished with “Crossroads”).

4. With the exception of Neil Patrick Harris, the actors are a bunch of raunchy teen movie rejects. Alyson Hannigan had the “American Pie” movies, Josh Radnor kind of had “Not Another Teen Movie,” and Cobie Smulders had, well, nothing actually. Sure, Jason Segel’s hit a slightly older audience with “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” and “I Love You Man,” but let’s face it – he’s ultimately fishing in the same pond. And it’s not a deep one.

5. This entire show is like a frat boy party story that never ends. Craig Thomas and Carter Bays created the show in the image of their own friends and the “stupid stuff” (their words, not mine) they did living in New York. The show’s theme song is a track by their band, The Solids. MacLaren’s, the bar the characters frequent, is modeled after a pub that had some mural they liked and is named for Bays’ assistant. Wow guys, hilarious. I’m still waiting for the punch line but I’m sure you’ll get there in season six. Thank you network television for sinking to this level of inane drivel.