news

News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets

by

News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets
@wendylabruminteriors
News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets
@lolariostyle
News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets
@amberinteriors

Without strong fair-use protections, a culture can’t thrive.

In the late 1970s and early ’80s, Lynn Goldsmith, a polymath skilled as a photographer and a musician, took pictures of many of the period’s prominent rock stars, including the Rolling Stones, Patti Smith, Bruce Springsteen, the Police, Talking Heads, and Prince. Some images are in vivid color, and others in black and white. Some were taken in unrecognizable, decontextualized spots; others were shot on rooftops in the heart of Manhattan, with New York City’s architecture providing the backdrop. All of them have the lush, analog softness of film, and, especially if viewed together as an entire collection, evoke a specific era in music and in the city.

Goldsmith’s prolific and historically significant output has deservedly been archived in various institutions. One of her images was also enshrined by Andy Warhol, who used a photograph she took of Prince as the basis for his illustrations of the musician. But at least in some legal and art circles, Goldsmith may end up being remembered not so much for her beautiful photographs, but for her legal dispute with the custodians of Andy Warhol’s art, which the Supreme Court will hear on October 12.

Read the rest of this article at: The Atlantic

News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets

News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets

For decades, Yeardley Smith has given voice to the precocious, impassioned second-grader of ‘The Simpsons.’ But heading into the show’s 34th season, she’s only recently fully embraced her animated counterpart.

The Simpsons-themed guest bedroom in Yeardley Smith’s house is, like the little girl she’s voiced since 1987, small and profound. The walls are lined with framed animation cels from some of her character’s most memorable episodes. There’s Lisa jamming on her saxophone in “Lisa’s Pony,” Lisa playing goalie in “Lisa on Ice,” Lisa grappling with her favorite doll’s sexist ideals in “Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy,” and Lisa petting a lamb in “Lisa the Vegetarian.”

“I don’t think that you can play a part this long and not meld with that alter ego,” Smith says from a comfy couch in her living room. “I always say, thank God she’s such a beautiful, brilliant, funny, compassionate, thoughtful, curious person. If I had to meld with Mr. Burns for the last 30-plus years, I think I would be a different person, you know?”

The spiky-haired second-grader is the kind, inquisitive, sometimes lonely, and very often underappreciated conscience of The Simpsons. Over the course of several decades, Lisa has become a symbol of progressivism, a feminist role model, an example for kids who believe they don’t fit in, and a hero to anyone who can’t help but be angry at an unjust world. Much of that is thanks to the woman who’s brought Lisa to life. “Some people say, ‘Oh, that’s just your voice, you just talk like that,’ which is not true at all,” says Simpsons executive producer Matt Selman. “Is it similar? Yes. But Yeardley can find her inner Lisa with such emotional clarity, and realism, and humor, which she shifts from when she inhabits the character. Having this sensitive, smart little kid who feels the wounds of the world—it’s really one of the reasons the show has been able to go on for as long as it has.”

Read the rest of this article at: The Ringer

Midsummer in Ibiza, ten minutes to midnight. At a long table in the dimly lit garden of Can Domingo, a restaurant in the southern hills, two dozen people picked over the remains of a generous dinner: ravioli, veal Milanese, caponata. Gerd Janson, a forty-five-year-old German d.j. with courtly manners, asked me if I wanted a little more fish. He was dressed like one of the Royal Tenenbaums, in a neck scarf and a white camp-collar shirt tucked into chinos. I was full, but he insisted. “The fish is so delicious—and it’s a long night,” he reminded me.

At the center of the table was another d.j., Mladen Solomun—the reason for this long night and many others. Solomun is a forty-six-year-old German-Bosnian-Croat from Hamburg who looks like a Visigoth chief or a retired linebacker: six feet three and meaty, with a graying beard and long dark hair that he often wears pulled back. He is known to millions of ravers by only his last name, and to a circle of intimates by only his first. At Can Domingo, he was Mladen, soft-spoken and attentive with the Chablis. After dinner, he would become Solomun, master key to the pleasure of thousands.

This summer, several people described Solomun to me as the “king of Ibiza.” He professes to hate this appellation, but it has some merit. Since 2013, except for the covid pause, he has played at Pacha, the island’s oldest night club, at least twenty Sundays a year. (The parties begin at midnight and run until dawn on Monday.) His residency, called Solomun+1, so dominates the scene that other clubs plan their schedules around it. Ibiza Spotlight, a night-life guide, recently called Solomun+1 the “centre of the universe.”

Read the rest of this article at: The New Yorker

News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets

Advertisement




News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets

AT THE END OF THIS YEAR’S LEGISLATIVE SESSION, Good Cause Eviction yet again failed to pass in New York State, as it did in 2019 and 2021. It wasn’t voted down: it wasn’t voted on at all. The bill would have capped market rate rental increases at 3 percent and compelled landlords to justify bigger hikes or any decision not to renew a lease in court, mitigating the disastrous effects of soaring rents across the state but especially in the city, where average monthly rent in Manhattan recently surpassed $5,000 for the first time ever. Meanwhile, the state legislature’s Democratic supermajority in Albany simply let the clock run out, despite pressure from the state’s tenants’ movement. It’s an election year, after all.

Where the tenants’ movement writ large fails to meet its immediate goals, it is certainly not for lack of vision, insight, or hard work. Rather, nonprofit imperatives and the frequent lack of an “or else” present a hurdle in the face of developers with deep political ties and boundless money. Political leverage often falls short against such entrenched forces—but such leverage need not remain constrained in the way it is now.

A common rallying cry is that we must “decommodify” housing, defined broadly as the gradual inoculation of housing prices from the horror show speculations of the rental market. Social housing, as apart from the dominant model of public housing employed in the United States, and exemplified somewhat in European social democratic economies such as Germany and Spain—as well as less frequently acknowledged variations in Uruguay, Argentina, and elsewhere—is frequently cited as an end goal: the ultimate horizon for equitable housing. Other crucial iterations include policy initiatives like rent control, where rents are partially detangled from market fluctuations through caps on rental increases, as well as projects like Community Land Trusts, wherein a nonprofit entity takes ownership of the land on which people have their homes and uses alternative financial models to determine what people pay.

Read the rest of this article at: The Baffler

Follow us on Instagram @thisisglamorous

News 03.10.22 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internets

On the train to Laxton I was facing backward, heading south from Scotland, with the fields of England rushing away from me. I searched their dark creases and their uneven hedges for something I didn’t know how to see, something I wasn’t even certain was visible. I was trying to locate the origins of private property, a preposterous pursuit. There in those hedges, I was looking for a living record of enclosure, the centuries-long process by which land once collectively worked by the landless was claimed by the landed. That land already belonged to the landed, in the old sense of ownership, but it had always been used by the landless, who belonged to the land. The nature of ownership changed within the newly set hedges of an enclosed field, where the landowner now had the exclusive right to dictate how the land was used, and no one else belonged there.

From my backward-facing seat, I saw a long stone wall on the crest of a cliff. “The Wall,” John Berger writes, “is the front line of what, long ago, was called the Class War.” Walls, fences, hedges, and ditches were all used to mark the boundaries of enclosed land, so that sheep could be kept there, or some other profit could be pursued. Enclosure is how nearly all the agricultural land in Britain came to be owned by less than one per cent of the population. In “The Making of the English Working Class,” the historian E. P. Thompson writes that enclosure was “a plain enough case of class robbery, played according to fair rules of property and law laid down by a parliament of property-owners and lawyers.”

The pilgrims who sailed on the Mayflower were not property owners but economic migrants financed by property owners. They were also communists, in that they agreed to work communally and share the profits of their labor for the first seven years of their settlement, though that agreement did not last beyond the first year. They settled on land held by the Wampanoag people, who did not practice the absolute ownership of land. Among the Wampanoag, rights to use the same plot of land could overlap, so that one family might hold the right to fish in a stream and another might hold the right to farm the banks of that stream. Usage rights could be passed down from mothers to daughters, but the land itself could not be possessed.

Read the rest of this article at: The New Yorker

P.S. previous articles & more by P.F.M.