Yma Sumac with her five octave vocal range, her piercing cat-like eyes, her unique raven haired beauty and her costumes that promised the most fantastical of daydreams, personified the exotic.
While her heyday was during the time of Technicolor she has gained a wide cult following for decades. She graced the stage of Letterman in the late eighties and her song Ataypura was featured on the soundtrack to the Coen Brothers' Big Lebowski.
She passed away last year.
Aside from this week's documentary movie pick, the delightful Jazz on a Summer's Day, photographer Bert Stern is most famous for The Last Sitting, the memorable last photos taken of Marilyn Monroe before her tragic death. We'll forgive him the strange choice to recreate the shoot with current troubled actress Lindsay Lohan for sheer gall.
He is also behind many iconic images of Elizabeth Taylor, Twiggy, and Audrey Hepburn as well as portraits of Sue Lyon for Lolita.
Some of the greatest love songs are the most desperate, and All of Me, the wonderful jazz standard is one of the most pleading:
“I'm no good without you
Take my lips
I want to lose them
Take my arms
I'll never use them”
You can see a smashing rendition by Dinah Washington in this weeks movie pick Jazz on a Summer's Day, but this hit has been recorded over 2000 times by a variety of artists.
I put on the 1960 documentary Jazz on a Summer's Day on a recent half day afternoon while Jim was still at work hoping for some pleasant background entertainment as I took care of stuff around the house, but I quickly found myself far more enthralled than I expected – and I even went so far as to pour a smallish glass of wine as this soothing and stunning film washed over me.
Centered at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival and interspersed with the WASPy beauty of a yacht race, the movie is almost without dialogue, except for the the occasional introductions from a radio program and the banter of performers – and what performers they are! From a cooler than cool Thelonious Monk, to a cheery, feather-capped Anita O'Day, from an energetic Chuck Berry to the solemn and powerful Mahalia Jackson, the music will be instantly diggable to any fan of the genre, and possibly even create a few new ones.
Beyond the performances, the style of the film and the subjects are highly inspiring. The director seems to almost know the exact images that would excite the current nostalgic movement: a man gathering old timey bottles, a ragtime band playing on the back of a pickup through the coastal Rhode Island landscape, a woman's perfectly red lips and pony tail – these are the images that can make men who name their babies Miles and open up speakeasy barbershops weep.
It plays like a living, breathing mid-century Sartorialist, and it's little wonder that the pure visual aesthetics (and fashions in particular) are given so much weight once you learn that noted fashion photographer Bert Stern (famous for his intimate shots of Marilyn) is behind the lens. He's just as amazed by Dinah Washington's white silk banded gown as her vocals. Stern's amazing eye, combined with what has to be one of the most impressive lineups in jazz festival history, make this seemingly simple film into an extraordinary experience.
I hope this collection of stills will further inspire you to watch.
While other establishments (the once exciting, now disappointing Ichiran and the unknown dark hole on Bedford at North 9th with the conspicuous stained glass window reading 'Girls All Night') are certainly taking eons longer than Cookie Road did to open up, its imminent opening still seemed to have the neighborhood abuzz and impatient.
Located on the corner of the ever expanding, almost-there shopping destination that is Franklin, the little shop has brightened the neighborhood in a weird but fun way with a mural depicting Charlie Chaplin and a couple of penguins.
Inside, the shop is more subdued with a counter full of both signature decorated sugar cookies and various tartlets and pastries. On our first visit we chose a sightless Dalmatian (though we would have opted for the Michael Jackson portrait ones that were available the next week for obvious reasons). As no particular fan of the simple sugar cookie, it's hard for me to judge the taste… it tasted like a sugar cookie with the standard hard icing on top.
But I can tell you for certain though that the key lime tart and the rocky road cookie we brought as dessert offerings to a friends' dinner were excellent. The tart gets high marks for the buttery graham cookie crust that tastes like something your non-health conscious grandmother would feed you with love.
And the owners, both Polish and keeping it local, are sweet as can be.
? For me, Brad Neely's alternative commentary track for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone calls to mind the expressive ramblings and raspy, wild, and often despairing voice of suicidal beat poet Steven Jesse Bernstein. Inspired by the idea of retelling the popular tale from a wildly misinformed (he refers to Hagrid as Hagar the Horrible and mistakes Snape for a woman) though enthusiastic point of view, Neely has created a sort of cult phenomenon that has made Warner Brothers bristle.
Though there are curse words, it's not a low brow piece of appropriation with mere fart jokes and f-words – it's far more interesting and bizarre than that.
This is another great tip from RC author and good friend Jessica, thanks!
While I'd love to give the folks over at FBI Files a full on series recommendation, I can only really recommend one episode (Deadly Paradise: season 1, episode 5), so memorable and great that it's been worked into my usual party conversations. Attempts to get as involved with other episodes have failed.
The one I speak of involves a remote island Pacific island in shark-infested waters, a thieving bad news dude with the name 'Buck' tattooed on his arm (though he denies that's his name) with an equally delinquent girlfriend, a pot growing scheme gone wrong, the cutting down of a coconut tree to get at the coconuts, shooting of fish with a handgun, and daring escapes in row boats and hiding in potted plants. Look for it!
After days of heavy shopping for work, we just managed to sneak in a blissful couple of hours at the Annenberg Community Beach House, a public pool that puts most maddening public urban pools to shame. Recommended by nearly every shop owner that wondered why we weren't at the beach on such a lovely sunny day, the spot offers access to both beach and pool and, until 4, snacks (we just missed them).
Originally the home of Marion Davies and William Randolf Hearst (the ditz and the magnate that inspired Citizen Kane), the house is huge, modern and the pool runs the length of it, giving plenty of room for lappers, children, and doddlers like me.
The changing rooms are clean and private and the entire space gleams in that kind of cleanliness that comes from a responsibility and pride that Californians give to their public spaces, a quality I really wish New Yorkers could pick up on.
The long pool is warm, the lounge chairs are comfy and, for a little while, I felt uncharacteristically relaxed, calm, and worry free. Every benefit a nice day outside in a pool has to offer was available ten fold at such a nice facility (well worth the ten dollar admission). Plus: Grace and I got hit on by a couple of teenagers, which was hilarious.
Usually, like a sweatpants wearing lady on a budget who only gets her toiletries at Rite Aid, I am a strictly Head and Shoulders blue bottle woman. I even brought some along with me on my latest work trip to LA, assuming I'd be met with a dime sized mini bottle of crappy stuff that does unhappy things to my hair.
The Avalon though, greeted me instead with a line of Neil George products that thankfully someone pointed out to me would cost $65 a bottle if I were to abscond with them. They really made my hair soft, my skin smooth and my sense of smell content.
Aside from the usual spots we hit for work shopping, this trip offered some more unique places that I found exciting and irresistible.
Una Mae's has an often great selection of both new and vintage and both times I have visited in the last few years I have gone home with something great. This time a red and white patterned breezy off the shoulder number that begs for my red high heels.
About three minutes away you'll find Reform School, one of the city's hippest little stores with a very “new craft” vibe that would fit in very comfortably back here in Brooklyn. Merrimeko table cloths, organic kids toys, and interesting body washes (I got a lime scrub) were nestled among cute cards, gifts, art and house wares. The staff is incredibly helpful and nice.
Right around the corner, though, is where I went the most crazy with the spending at Casbah Cafe. In the front area, you can order a most refreshing mint tea to stay or go, but up the back stairs lies a treasure trove of worldly colorful clothing and jewelry. I went home with a new gold and turquoise dress, a large cheetah brooch, a beaded necklace, and a tote. What can I say? I saw too many things I fell in love with.
I could have gone home with just as much stuff from the similarly french Moroccan inspired but far more gorgeous shop, Indigo Seas, if I were a millionaire. Indian settees and handmade quilted down blankets don't come cheap here, but at least you can walk away comfortably with a few bars of amazingly scented handmade french soaps without burning a hole in your pocket.
Run by Lynn von Kersting who is a famous taste maker and the proprietress of the famous Ivy restaurant next door, Indigo Seas is an experience just to walk through the effortless west coast luxury and ease of lush colors, tropical prints and lovely first edition hard bound books that speckle the store.