Francis Ford Coppola shows Akira Kurosawa his new Polaroid

Play Me, I'm Yours

"Street pianos are appearing in cities across the world. Located in skate parks, industrial estates, laundrettes, precincts, bus shelters and train stations, outside pubs and football grounds, the pianos are for any member of the public to enjoy and claim ownership of. Who plays them and how long they remain is up to each community. The pianos act as sculptural, musical, blank canvas's that become a reflection of the communities they are embedded into. Many pianos are personalised and decorated.

"Questioning the ownership and rules of public space 'Play Me I'm Yours' is a provocation, inviting the public to engage with, activate and take ownership of their urban environment.

"‘Play Me, I’m Yours’ provides an interconnected resource, an empty blank canvas, for the public to express themselves and share their creativity.

Website is here - TONS of Quicktime links!

What can Anne Romagnoli do to sell you an accordion?

"I am going to sell you an accordion," said Anne Romagnoli.

"Not right -- " began the teenage boy.

"No, listen, I've got to sell you an accordion. Why can't I sell you an accordion? You need an accordion. Look at you."

"I know, but my accordion, it was my uncle's accordion, and, uh," he said, dissolving into mumbles.

"You're playing a child's accordion. You need an adult's accordion. How old are you?"

"I'm 15."

"You're 15, and you're playing a child's accordion. What can I do to sell you an accordion?"

I'm sold. I've visiting Mrs. Romagnoli's store this weekend, just to check it out. Here's her full story, courtesy of the Chicago Tribune.

That snap in the air can only mean one thing-

It's Opera Season!

Our lupine femme fatale is respendent in her flaxen plaits...

Oh, yes, opera season is upon us. I am tortured by the offerings for 2009-2010. Placido Domingo mans the helm of Wagner's Ring Cycle in Los Angeles. Also, in Chicago, TWO productions of Faust are offered, one on October/November and the other in the coldest part of winter. (Given that most of Batman Begins was shot in Chicago, is it too much to ask to have Mefistofele come back to the Lyric?) Over at the Met in New York, get this! Engelbert Humperdinck has written an opera about Hansel and Gretel. Plus they have two Mozarts and another Faust. (What is it with Tosca this year, anyway?)

Between the price of tickets, and the meal, and of course a fantastische gown to wear to the opera, and the cloak to wear over said gown, well, I think I'm going to sit out this season.

The most brilliant people that you will never meet are introverts.

From an interview with one of my scholarly heroines, Sister Wendy Beckett:

Who would you most like to sit next to on a long-haul flight?
I would like to sit next to somebody holy who would share my desire not to talk. Perhaps Saint Thérèse of Lisieux would fit the bill.

Here's the link for the quote above.

Another Nickel In The Machine

Welcome to my new favorite find - "Another Nickel In The Machine." This is a blog about 20th century London, its history, its culture and its music. The photos are fascinating, take a coffee break and explore.

Brilliant photoshop picture by monicenfungirl at flickr

To be precise, it is now Wesley Willis Tower.

Big day in the Windy City this Friday, as the Sears Tower is renamed after Chicago's most beloved busker, Wesley Willis.

He DEFINED the "Creative Process." 

Godspeed, Wesley, Godspeed.

"What have we learned so far?"

Hello, this is Ann.

By trade, I am considered an artisan, meaning I make my living by bringing ideas into some sort of tangible manifestation. My relationship to the things I create is that I just facilitate their existence, that when I'm making things, I don't necessarily know what is going to happen. Such is my relationship to chaos.

For this past week, I've been waiting to see how this blog will manifest itself. In my mind, a blog can't be all self-indulgent navel-gazing, it has to have a reason for existence, an impetus to push it along. All art says something, otherwise we are just proverbial monkeys throwing typewriters at the wall.

Over the weekend, I thought that the underlying fuel under this blog was going to be anger, because what was compelling me to write was fury, or frustration, or just plain bitching.

The more I considered it, the more I realized that this wasn't really the underlying motivation. It is not anger that compels people to blog, it is passion. What saddens me, what makes me angry, are abuses against things that I am passionate about. To reveal these passions is quite an intimate thing to share with unseen strangers.

My intent is ask for awareness. If people could only see the art and beauty that surrounds them, if they just would just fucking pay attention, they wouldn't need to gobble everything up looking for the next thing to consume when they feel hollow. They would savor these small silent exquisite moments in life and cherish them.

Are blogs shouting into the wind? I don't know. I never allowed myself to shout into the wind before. It is both frightening and thrilling to do this, hopefully I can justify your bandwidth.