Good, Clean Fun

And just like that, it's springtime in Boston. And yesterday was the perfect day for a pillow fight.

March 22nd was International Pillow Fight Day, and thanks to urban playground group Banditos Misteriosos, an estimated 500 Bostonians gathered in Copley Square at 2pm and whacked each other with pillows. The rules were as follows: Before the fight begins, act natural. Bring a soft pillow. Don't wear glasses. Don't hit the folks with cameras. Go all out.

After getting walloped a bunch of times by some overenthusiastic college boys, I got out alive (and with only a slight headache) after 7 straight minutes of earnest pillow-fighting. (The fight went on about 20 minutes.) I have to say, this was one of the best (and geekiest) times I've had in Boston so far. (It's a tie with the Buffy Sing-Along, which sadly is no more.) Hopefully it was the first of many experiences with the Banditos and with Boston's Improv Everywhere spinoff, the Boston Society of Spontaneity. It was such pure, simple fun. Every single participant, no matter what age, was laughing, smiling, and playing. With total strangers. How often does this happen in Boston, the city where we stare off into space on the subway and celebrate important sports victories with full-on riots? A modest proposal: the next time the Sox win the series, free pillows all around!

If you're wondering what it was like to be there, someone in the center of the action posted this great video on YouTube. Hope to see you at the next pillow fight!

Dim Sum

This week's roundup of art news I happen to find interesting:

-The Boston Ballet has announced that it is cutting nearly 20% of the dancers in its company. Times are tough, sure. I get that. But, boo. Just, boo.
-Isaac thinks redneck sports in Maine are kind of like Dadaism. I think he has a point, but a true redneck would probably call him an "overeducated owta-stateah" and send him down the river in one of those giant pumpkins.
-As promised, here are some images from Mikhail Baryshnikov's current photography show, Merce My Way, at 401 Projects. They're not as groundbreaking as everyone's making them out to be (they show movement, while dance photography has traditionally stuck to showing form), but I admit they've grown on me. Even though I think they ought to have been done in film, not digital. What can I say; film is just better.
-Joss Whedon has co-written, and is currently filming, a limited Internet musical series called "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog," starring a couple of my favorite actors, presumably in tights. Joss is clearly very good at writing musicals, and I can't wait for his next go. And look, Mom! No producers!
-Zach took me to Northeastern University last weekend to see Anthony Rapp sing and speak, and it was my favorite thing I did during Spring Break. Rapp sang some some of his own songs, some songs from Rent, some songs from other musicals, and some unexpected covers, of which my favorite by far was Courtney Love's "Miss World." And check out this bit of exciting news. Two original cast members? Hells yeah.

"Eye-Ass Coordination"

Neke Carson painted this portrait of his friend Andy Warhol in 1972, and "Page Six" reports that it's soon going on exhibit at the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, its first public showing in 28 years. It looks pretty common, right? Kind of lopsided and cartoonish, but a pretty accurate likeness nonetheless. Not especially subversive material for that particular moment in artistic culture. So why is this a big deal?

"Page Six" left out an important detail, which New York Magazine's Vulture immediately set right. It seems that Carson, um, painted the portrait with his butt. Which is gross; but you have to admit, it makes the painting so much more impressive, doesn't it? So why did he choose to paint it this way? Apparently the idea came from several sources: kung fu movies, the new popularity of body art, and an off-color comment his wife made (and probably regretted immediately). And also because painting with your hand is so yesterday. Carson is quoted as saying: "My idea was, your hand is way too sophisticated to make art. This had much less baggage, to get this eye-ass coordination going. You had to rewire your brain, go from your eyes to your butt instead of your arms."

Portrait of Andy Warhol will be shown alongside Carson's video of Warhol's portrait sitting starting March 14th. I'm intrigued, but definitely not enough to subject my poor eyeballs to a naked Neke Carson trying to maneuver with a paintbrush between his cheeks while Andy Warhol attempts to keep a straight face. I apologize for that mental image. But for the record, Warhol thought the finished product looked great.

The house needs new siding; pass me another!

A Man's 6-Pack Can Serve as His Castle (NY Times)

Besides being environmentally friendly, the Beer Can House in Houston, Texas may or may not be the coolest thing ever to result from one man's love of cheap beer. (Hint: it is.) The folk art monument, which opens to the public today, was the twenty-year-long project of late furniture upholsterer John Milkovisch. The house underwent a seven-year, $400,000 restoration, which is surely every architectural preservationist's dream job. ("Hmm, that wall looks like it needs some more work. BEER RUN!!!!") The house costs $1 to tour. I can only assume that the dollar includes a complimentary PBR, and that the resulting cans go directly toward building maintenance.

Two questions remain: First of all...his wife actually let him get away with this? And also, how can I get myself one of these? (To answer my own question: perhaps by simply continuing to do what I'm already doing. Between all the alcohol and the books about architecture, a house made out of beer cans is exactly where my graduate education is likely to lead me.)

In all seriousness, though, there are worse things that one can do with empty beer cans. And I'm oddly reminded of Frank Gehry's bungalow in Santa Monica (below). Am I right, people?

George W. Bush, "Art Critic"

George W. Bush has a favorite painting, W.H.D. Koerner's A Charge to Keep (1916), and it hangs prominently in the Oval Office. He claims to have acquired it after becoming a born-again Christian. But the painting doesn't depict what he thinks it does. I try not to be overtly political on these here pages out of respect for my Conservative readers (I think there are two of you?), but I just can't let this delicious irony pass me by. Because W does what he always does when he has no clue: he pulls something out of his ass and presents it as fact, and even becomes so convinced of its veracity that he completely disregards all evidence to the contrary.

The ending is too funny to give away, so I'll let Jacob Weisberg deliver the punchline in the video below. Check out this article in Harper's for more. Thanks to Isaac for the heads up.

Mikhail Baryshnikov is taking over the art world...but being nice about it.

This recent article in the New York Observer officially begs the question: Great Muppity Odin, is there any kind of art Mikhail Baryshnikov doesn't do? Dancing, of course...then acting, and now guitar and photography? Apparently once he masters one art form, he simply moves on to another, all the while acting pleasantly self-deprecating about his abilities. As if he could fool us into thinking he's somehow no good.

His photography show, which features images of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company, opens March 15th at 401 Projects in the West Village. I'll try to get some images up when they become available.