Daily Archives: February 6, 2017

The Week in Art: Sarah Crowner at the Guggenheim’s Wright Restaurant and Jake and Dinos Chapman in LA – artnet News

Posted: February 6, 2017 at 3:06 pm

Though it may seem that Armory Week and Frieze Week get all the action, the reality is that there is never a dull moment in the New York art world. From the East Side to the West Side, theres always something happening at the citys museums, galleries, and various event spaces. That was the case this week, with the Jake and Dinos Chapmanshow at UTA Artist Space in Los Angeles,timed to the opening of theArt Los Angeles Contemporary fair; the wider Americanart scene also provides plenty of action. Heres a rundown of this weeks highlights.

Celebration for Sarah Crowners NewSite-Specific Installation at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museums Wright Restaurant The Guggenheim celebrated the unveiling of new work by Sarah Crowner in its Wright Restaurant with a reception on February 2. Its the first change in decor since the upscale eatery, which previously featured site-specific work by Liam Gillick, opened in 2009.

Crowners design marries her hard-edge geometric painting, on a canvas that hugs the curve of the restaurants back wall, with large, hand-glazed terra-cotta tiles in a chevron mosaic pattern, which cover the floor (off-white), the entry wall (bright yellow), and the wall behind the bar (vibrant sea green). The painting is inspired by a tapestrydesigned by Swedish painter Lennart Reodhe for a Stockholm restaurant in 1961 and made by a Swedish womens weaving collective, and the tiles are the handiwork of her friend and regular collaboratorJos No Suro at hisCermica Suroworkshop in Guadalajara, Mexico.

We brought a little bit of Mexico to the Upper East Side, and thats a beautiful thing! Crowner told guests.

Sarah is very rare in that shes a painter that works with space in a very thoughtful and direct way, Guggenheim curator of contemporary art Katherine Brinson told artnet News. The museum acquired a piece, titled Totem, by Crowner for its permanent collection in 2015, so when it came to redesigning the Wright, I just thought she was a natural choice.

Brinson praised Crowners work on the project, saying she thought in so much depth about how the space would function on a very practical level, but also about this unique building that is, as we say, the greatest artifact in our collection.

Jos No Suro, Sarah Crowner, Guggenheim curator of contemporary art Katherine Brinson, and Guggenheim deputy director Ari Wiseman in front of Crowners Backdrop (after Rodhe, 1961) at the Wright Restaurant at the Guggenheim Museum. Courtesy of Sarah Cascone.

Sarah Crowners site-specific installation at the Wright Restaurant at the Guggenheim Museum. Courtesy of David Heald/Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation.

Screening of Jean Nouvel: Reflections at Hearst Tower On February 1, guests gathered to watch Matt Tyrnauers documentary shortJean Nouvel: Reflections, about the Pritzker Prize-winning architect and his ongoing project, at Hearst Towers Joseph Urban Theatre. The evening was hosted by 53W53, the Jean Nouvel-designed condominium that will host the Museum of Modern Arts planned expansion, and the New York Landmarks Preservation. Following a cocktail reception and the screening,Tyrnauer spoke withPaul Goldberger about the making of the film and the career of its subject.

Brandon Haw, Paul Goldberger, Matt Tyrnauer, and Corey Reeser at a screening of Jean Nouvel: Reflections. Courtesy of Star Black.

Caitlin Douglas, George Lancaster, Ken Hsu, and Donna Puzio at a screening of Jean Nouvel: Reflections. Courtesy of Star Black.

Michael Chait, Bertram Beissel Von Gymnich, Jerry Karr, Jasmine Mir, Amanda Ortland, Christina Davis, and Richard Davis at a screening of Jean Nouvel: Reflections. Courtesy of Star Black.

Opening reception for Jake and Dinos Chapmans To Live and Think Like Pigs at UTA Artist Space, Los Angeles January 28 marked the opening reception for UK favorites Jake and Dinos Chapmans new show, titled To Live and Think Like Pigs, at the UTA Artist Space in Los Angeles. In their usual anti-aesthetic manner, the brothers aim to startle viewers with compositions that raise questions about religious beliefs, moral standards and political tradition, a topic that feels extremely timely. The show explores darker themes including human decay, Nazi war crimes, Satanism, and conflict. Yet the crowd that turned out for the opening was decidedly not somber, despite the material on view. Spotted in the mix were UTAs Joshua Roth; musician and former husband of Kate Moss, rocker Jamie Hince; musician Courtney Love; and comedians Whitney Cummings and Sebastian Maniscalco.

Lana Gomez, Sebastian Maniscalco, Joshua Roth and Sonya Roth at UTA Artist Space. Photo Stefanie Keenan/Getty Images for United Talent Agency.

Courtney Love and Jamie Hince attend UTA Artist Space. Photo Stefanie Keenan/Getty Images for United Talent Agency.

Dino Chapman and Jake Chapman. Photo Stefanie Keenan/Getty Images for United Talent Agency.

Installation view of To Live and Think Like Pigs, Jake and Dinos Chapmans new show at UTA Artist Space in Los Angeles. Photo Jeff McLane, courtesy the artists.

Art Los Angeles Contemporary Opening at the Barker Hangar The international art world was out in full force in on January 26 for the opening of the Art Contemporary Los Angeles art fair, withPerforma founder RoseLee Goldberg; Ali Subotnick of the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles; Elsa Longhauer of the Institute of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles; curator Douglas Fogle; Sonya Roth of Christies; gallerists Sean Regen,Timothy Blum,and Jeffrey Poe; collectors Anita Zabludowicz and Michael and Susan Hort;Kenny Goss of the Goss Michael Foundation, Dallas; and actresses Eliza Dushkuand Rhea Perlman all in attendance.

In a statement, art advisor Veronica Fernandes called the fair a linchpin to our now exploding contemporary art-scenewhere global gallerists, collectors, artists, curators, critics and art advisors crowd each January to engage, build and buy.

Tracy Jeanne Rosenthal of the Los Angeles Reader with Puppies Puppies, Red Carpet. Courtesy the artist and Queer Thoughts, New York. Photo Gina Clyne Photography.

Tim Fleming and guest at Art Los Angeles Contemporary. Courtesy of Art Los Angeles Contemporary, Gina Clyne Photography.

Art Los Angeles Contemporary. Courtesy of Art Los Angeles Contemporary, Gina Clyne Photography.

Huang Rui, Ping Pong 2017. Courtesy of Art Los Angeles Contemporary, Gina Clyne Photography.

Collective Design Studio Tour With Ceramic Artist Peter Lane In advance ofCollective Design, which returns May 37, 2017, the fair hosted a studio visit withPeter Lane in Bushwick, Brooklyn, on January 31. The ceramic artist, who will show his large-scale wall installations in an immersive environment at the upcoming fair, offered a behind-the-scenes tour of the cavernous space, showcasing his artistic process.

Guests included design world influencers such as Yolande Milan Batteau of Callidus Guild,David Mann of MR Architecture + Decor,Francine Monaco and Carl DAquino of DAquino Monaco, andBrook Klausing of Brook Landscape.

In addition to cocktails and conversation, highlights ofthe evening includeda peek at themassive industrialkilns in which Lane fires his work.

Peter Lane shows guests his Bushwick studio. Courtesy of Collective Design.

Peter Lanes Bushwick studio. Courtesy of Collective Design.

Peter Lanes Bushwick studio. Courtesy of Collective Design.

Additional reporting by Eileen Kinsella.

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The Week in Art: Sarah Crowner at the Guggenheim's Wright Restaurant and Jake and Dinos Chapman in LA - artnet News

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Christians think ‘the Rapture’ is coming and the signs are already … – Metro

Posted: at 3:06 pm

This is what it will look like (Picture Getty)

A website which monitors signs of the Rapture when Jesus comes back and dead people come out of the ground has an alarming message in the age of Trump: Fasten your seatbelts.

The Rapture Index monitors world news for signs that the end times are coming and in October, it hit its highest point since it launched in 1987. It hasnt dropped much since.

Todd Strandberg monitors events such as Satanism, bizarre weather and plagues to work out the Rapture Index.

Strandberg told Mail Online, It seems like we are heading into the eye of a hurricane and I am fascinated with whats going on with Donald Trump both sides are whirling faster and faster.

You could say the Rapture index is a Dow Jones Industrial Average of end time activity, but I think it would be better if you viewed it as prophetic speedometer.

The higher the number, the faster were moving towards the occurrence of pre-tribulation rapture.

We dont know if its Donald Trump, or the various alarming things Russians have said about nuclear war but a lot of people are convinced doomsday is around the corner

Biblical fundamentalists believe that the world was created only a few thousand years ago and that means that our time is nearly up.

The Reverend Donna Larson claims that the number 6,000 is bad news as the Bible predicts that man will rule the Earth for 6,000 years.

She also claims that 2017 marks 70 years since the UN established Israel and 50 years since the unification of Jerusalem.

Larson says, All these numbers have Biblical significance 50 is the number of unification between Passover and Pentecost and 70 is the number of fulfilment according to the book of Daniel, Chapter 9.

Michael Parker, who runs the blog End of Time Prophecies says, 2017 will be a year of great awakening and of great shaking.

The time is soon coming and appears to have already started when the earth will start its belching forth of earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes, extreme weather conditions the like of which modern mankind has never seen before.

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Christians think 'the Rapture' is coming and the signs are already ... - Metro

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The boredom of nihilism – The Tablet

Posted: at 3:05 pm

02 February 2017 | by Patrick West | Comments: 0

The Evenings GERARD REVE, translated by Sam Garrett

Gerard Reve, who died in 2006, is considered one of the greatest post-war Dutch authors and his debut novel, The Evenings, published in 1947, is regarded as a masterpiece in his native land and continues to be taught in schools. The existential tale has been called his countrys equivalent to Nausea or The Outsider, yet it is only now that it has it been translated into English.

Its protagonist, Frits, is an aimless and neurotic 23-year-old nihilist with an unhealthy taste for black humour. He lives with his parents, whom he resents: Im only waiting for them to hang themselves or beat each other to death. Or set the house on fire.

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The boredom of nihilism - The Tablet

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Dark side of hedonism: a rock journalist’s battle with drug addiction – The Guardian

Posted: at 3:04 pm

For an addict, things only become properly scary with the first futile attempts to stop: Barney Hoskyns. Photograph: Leszek Czerwonka/Getty Images

To this day I dont know why I said yes why I rolled up my sleeve and told my old friend: Do it. I cant say it was peer pressure. I harboured no secret longing to be a junkie. Youd think that, having just graduated with a first from Oxford, I might not have stuck my hand in this particular fire. In a moment of existential recklessness, I did it anyway.

The notion that I deserved to be happy simply because I was alive never occurred to me

Perhaps I had some sixth sense of what heroin would do for me: of how, temporarily, it would fill me and complete me and make nothing else matter very much. I did know, instantly, that Id always wanted to feel like this, as if suddenly there was an invisible forcefield around me. Id wanted to feel like this since I was a kid a skinny, shame-plagued schoolboy who could never tell you what he was feeling, because he didnt know.

I wasnt a wild child, madly acting out internal distress. Id tried to be good. But at my core I was loveless, ugly in my heart and soul. From the outside, it all looked respectable: the middle-class family, the businessman dad, the prep and public schools. Inside it was so different: without being able to name those things, I was bewildered and alone, and crippled by self-consciousness.

Within days of arriving at Westminster school in 1973 I fell in with the pot-heads, the bad boys. The first time I got drunk I vomited copiously in a pals plush home in Marylebone. But the thought that at the end of this lay heroin never crossed my mind. That wasnt the game plan.

At Oxford, in 1977, I became more acutely aware of how anxious and awkward I felt around my peers. I never spoke of it, and neither did anyone else. I drank alcohol and dropped acid. I hoovered up speed as a tool for cramming in information ahead of finals. But none of these chemicals did what I needed them to, which was to strip away self-doubt and nullify self-loathing. Only with opiates did my deep unease what Proust described as an agitation which at any cost, even that of their life, [addicts] must end begin to melt away.

Fate steered me into music journalism, a way of not really growing up while earning a modest crust supplemented by selling review copies of albums. Though I didnt believe all fucked-up rock stars were inherently cool, inevitably I glommed on to bands that dabbled in drugs. As if validating my own unhappiness romanticising my self-hatred I specialised in stars whod succumbed to the dark side of hedonism.

Depending on how you viewed it, the high or low point of this journalistic niche was the day Johnny Thunders dropped by the Paddington crash-pad I shared with, among others, Birthday Party singer Nick Cave. Thunders made us look like amateurs: Nick nearly overdosed on the cotton bud Johnny had used to strain his hit. Nor was my editor at the NME amused when I invoiced him for the quarter-gram of heroin Id scored to secure an interview with the former Heartbreaker.

My own heart was broken at this time, though I rarely talked to Nick about it. He and I didnt talk about much besides heroin: who had it, where to get it, how strong it was. In November 1981, we were busted together in Earls Court and spent a night in the local police cells.

Id fallen for a girl who broke hearts like the Comanche took scalps. Heroin was the only thing that salved the agony of her infidelities, but it also fooled me into believing I could win her back. As addicted to her as I was to drugs, in the end I was forced to move to California in the faint hope that putting her out of sight would put her out of mind.

The drastic strategy almost worked, but I was still left with me: the one thing I couldnt escape, however far I fled. In San Francisco I added intravenous cocaine abuse a horror-show of palpitating omnipotence to the chemical repertoire. Unwittingly, the NME paired me with a photographer who confessed a taste for Class A chemicals. One night we fixed coke till dawn on Polk Street and only just made a flight to Minneapolis to interview Survivor, then perched atop the US charts with the Rocky theme song Eye of the Tiger. Somehow I managed to bang out enough NME articles to keep cash rolling in, even after Nick Kent the papers most infamous dope fiend rightly lambasted my half-baked eulogies to self-destruction.

For an addict in the grip of a chemical obsession, things only become properly scary with the first futile attempts to stop. Friends took the same existential risk Id taken but were somehow able to pick heroin up and put it down. That alarmed me and made me wonder why I needed it more than they did. Was it less intense or less analgesic for them? The answer is clear to me now: without heroin in their bloodstreams, the world was nonetheless bearable to them.

I needed to change the way I looked at the world, but the motivation to do so came only in the depths of hopelessness: a dawning awareness that I could live neither with nor without drugs. At that grim point, marooned in Los Angeles in the summer of 1983, I was desperate enough to accept the offer of help to plug into something bigger than me. At the tender age of 24 I was ready.

It wasnt an overnight job; it rarely is. Returning to London, I reconnected with the old friend whod introduced me to heroin and found myself unexpectedly opiated again. Midway through my interviewing Alan Vega, on assignment in New York, the former Suicide singer produced a bag of cocaine from a drawer and I accepted the offer of a generous line. The experience was repeated a few days later in Detroit with P-Funk chieftain George Clinton. I simply hadnt learned that No thanks was the most important phrase in my lexicon.

Addiction, I found, wasnt a by-product of drug abuse. It was a false filling-up of spiritual emptiness

In late August, the penny dropped. I got a day clean, and then another. I kept plugging in. I started to share my life with others. In November, by an odd coincidence, I flew to Madrid to be a guest on a TV show featuring Alan Vega. When later he phoned my hotel room to say he had some really good stuff, I managed to reply that I was tired and needed sleep. It was as difficult and as simple as that. The next morning, I was able to amble about the Prado without feeling freaked out.

Its more than three decades since I put drugs in my body, so why write about them now? Hasnt the world had enough My Drug Hell stories? But it turns out its not really about drugs at all. As a wise fellow once said: If you think drugs are the problem, stop using drugs. I did stop, time and again. Then one day, in a perfect paradox, I surrendered to my addiction and never had to use again. Addiction, I discovered, wasnt a by-product of drug abuse. It was a false filling-up of spiritual emptiness, a set of protective repetitions designed to eliminate difficult feelings and choices.

For some years, unconscious of what I was doing, I continued the vain effort to fill the void within. I was petrified of rejection by women, by the world. Lacking much self-knowledge or any genuine self-worth, I chased acclaim and sought frantically to prove I mattered. Without drugs, there was still never enough love or money. There wasnt enough because I wasnt enough. Even after marrying and starting a family in 1990, the notion that I deserved to be happy simply because I was alive never occurred to me.

Most abstinent addicts will tell you they replace drugs with surrogate compulsions: sex, food, wealth, power, gambling whatever floats the boat. For me, the most insidious has been work itself, for what could possibly be wrong with working too hard? Workaholism may not have had the hazardous consequences that sex or gambling addictions have, but its removed me from life in the broadest sense of that word: kept me from intimacy with others, unwilling to plunge into the spontaneous experience of the everyday.

Addiction seems more ubiquitous than ever in our society. Pushed by new technologies to chase a fulfilment thats out of reach, Im tricked into believing happiness is perpetually just over the horizon. You might be a rock n roll addict prancing on the stage, Bob Dylan sang in 1979; money and drugs at your command, women in a cage but youre gonna have to serve somebody.

Today I take this to mean that I need to be involved in other peoples lives and need them to be involved in mine. I need to work through the pain of my past to arrive at a place where being me is not a source of relentless discomfort. And then I need to let go of as much of me as I can afford to live without: to right-size the distended ego and reach out to my fellow human beings.

Not using drugs is still the key precondition of my daily life: everything flows from it, all the incidental joy and necessary pain. (I still cant do it on my own.) Many view addiction as a curse, but I see it as the gateway to the greatest life I could have imagined. If it is a disease of More, then at last I am Enough. Ive stopped taking life so personally. Im not so plagued by shame and self-hate. When I finally grasp that nothing matters except evanescent moments of connection and love, everything becomes blissful and shimmeringly alive.

Barney Hoskynss Never Enough: A Way Through Addiction is published by Constable (16.99). To order a copy for 14.44, go to bookshop.theguardian.com

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Dark side of hedonism: a rock journalist's battle with drug addiction - The Guardian

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Hedonism and healing – Independent Online

Posted: at 3:04 pm

By Beatric Larco

Here's a unique setting for an alternative holiday at the seaside - no diving or energy-consuming water sports, but a week of massages, yoga, and ayurvedic treatments combined with an all-vegetarian menu where alcohol consumption is frowned upon.

It may sound like torture if your idea of a vacation is to party all the time or experience thrilling adventures. But if you are looking for something more serene, a spot along the south coast of Kenya offers respite in the warmth of the Indian Ocean.

In one of my daily walks along the beach in Diani, Kenya, an 8km stretch of white sand about 520km from Nairobi, where I've vacationed in the past, I found myself ignoring a Private Property sign, walking right past a tree house and stepping into a deserted but carefully maintained garden with a wooden platform to one side and earth-coloured, low-roofed buildings.

Shaanti Holistic Health Retreat read an orange sign on a large stone next to the secluded beachfront. I wasn't sure whether holistic retreat meant I would come across a group of singing monks or a religious sect performing rituals, but I wanted to find out.

Orange and red cushions and mattresses covered a cement structure, which was later described to me as the chill-out room, as I reached what seemed to be a reception area.

Tasreen Keshavjee, the managing director of Shaanti, approached me and with enthusiasm explained exactly what the retreat was about.

Shaanti represents a holistic approach to healing. Since almost all ailments and diseases originate from stress and anxiety, the best way to cure them is to attack the root cause.

Take away the stress, take away the anxiety and work on the mind and body so that the process is sustainable, Keshavjee said.

The retreat, which opened in November 2004, is the first of its kind in the area.

Most of the numerous hotels that line this tropical resort provide massages and other health and beauty treatments, but Shaanti offers a specific healing method aimed at improving both the physical and mental state.

The wooden platform on the beachfront is for daily yoga lessons and the tree house is the vegetarian restaurant. The buildings are rooms for overnight accommodation.

Signs are written in English with a Hindi-styled font. Furniture is covered by orange and red cushions, which are made from the local East African kikoi material, a colourful cloth originally worn by men but recently very fashionable among young local designers.

Most of the floors are made from local galana stone, and fishing canoes are used as shelves in the restaurant and in the reception areas.

Meeting Tasreen and seeing the beautiful setting were all it took for me to book a massage - an abhyanga - where warm medicated oils are applied to the body to improve circulation and promote relaxation.

Moments before the massage, the resident ayurvedic doctor from Kerala, in southern India, met me to see what type of herbal oils were best for me.

Ayurveda is a 3 000-year-old system of healing, taught by rishis, or Hindu sages. It is designed to create balance and tranquillity in body, mind and spirit through massage, diet and meditation.

As I lay on the massage bed, the oils were heated and poured in a small bowl. Then I was told to sit up, and the masseuse began pouring the warm oil on my shoulders.

This massage consists Beatric Larco savours the serenity offered by an ayurvedic spa on the African coastof rubbing the oil up and down the arms and legs by going over the back and stomach; it lasts an hour. Unlike other types of massage, you don't relax during the treatment, but the effects are intended to last.

I was given a robe made of kikoi to wear for the next hour while the oil soaked into my skin. I headed for the open-air chill-out room, which looks out on the Indian Ocean, and ordered a freshly squeezed watermelon and mango drink.

After that, I returned for more - an hour-long facial massage, and a taste of the vegetarian menu. My meal started with a green salad, followed by assorted tropical fruits.

The main course was a light curry served with cumin rice, lentils and chapati, a puffy bread.

Kenya's coasts are becoming known for diving and for opportunities to see whale sharks, but Shaanti is yet another reason for travellers - especially Western workaholics - to go to Diani.

If You Go:

To reach Diani, fly to Nairobi and then on to Mombasa. Call ahead to the spa and arrangements will be made to pick you up in Mombasa for the two-hour drive to Diani, which includes a ferry crossing.

Rates: A $50 (R325) day package covers brunch and dinner, two yoga sessions, and various ayurvedic treatments, including steam bath aromatherapy. Two to 14-day packages are also available, including a two-week weight-control package offered at certain times of the year.

Accommodation rates vary from $105 (R680) for a deluxe double in the low season to $185 (R1 200) for the same room in high season, which includes Christmas, Easter and January-March. Low season is April-July.

http://www.shaantihhr.com.

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Hedonism and healing - Independent Online

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Run The Beast Down, Finborough, London, review: Ben Aldridge keeps you compelled by the character’s monomania – The Independent

Posted: at 3:04 pm

Charlie can't get to sleep any more. He's a would-be hipster in his mid-twenties who has suffered the double blow of losing his high-pressured City job and his live-in girlfriend on the same day. Then a neighbour's cat is mauled to bits one of a series of gory dismemberments and near-killings that are presumed to be the work of the urban foxes who have lost their native fear of mankind. The lines between reality and fantasy start to warp. As he festers in his yuppified council flat, Charlie develops an obsession with this 'burnt orange'beast. It's a fixation that takes him backward to his childhood when, as an impressionable eleven-year-old, he had intense (and formative-sounding) brushes with a local fox and propels him forward into his bizarre pursuit of the creature now one that allegedly ends in their murderous confrontation amidst the riots of a city on fire.

Oscar Wilde famously described fox-hunting as the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable. Could you characterise this monologue in which a man undergoing a nervous breakdown detains us with the story of his compulsive yearning towards a fox who seems to represent several contradictory things at once as the unreliable in garrulous pursuit of the ineffable? Well, yes but only if you meant it as a compliment. With a real flair for rhythmic organisation and shifts of tone, Titas Halder's highly imaginative script pulls you into a mind where various crazy preoccupations are becoming scrambled and it's as though musical motifs have started to strangle each other. For example, there's a vein of vivid satire in Charlie as when he says of a smug banking rival about to brag that: He stank of a new job. But then the idea of stinking is developed in directions that feel disturbing and ridiculous at the same time, starting with the stuffed otter that gets thrown into the fireplace during a drunken session with colleagues at an opulent City club: As it burnt it stank. He has visions of himself rescuing both his girlfriend from impending urban uproar and a fellow-banker, suspected of embezzling, from bloody torture in the boardroom. The potty and the apocalyptic refuse to be disentangled.

The excellent Ben Aldridge keeps you compelled by the character's monomania for upwards of ninety minutes in Hannah Price's well-conceived production. The audience sits in an L-shape round the small rectangular stage where the insistent, beautifully integrated soundscape, provided by the live D J, Chris Bartholomew, and the flashing neon rods and strobes create a disco atmosphere. This social environment, reflective of Charlie's former hedonism, serves to emphasise his essential isolation now. There are a great many virtues in Aldridge's supple and subtle portrayal the ground bass of trusting, genial plausibility as though he imagines he's talking to folk of the same condescending class; the finely paced escalation into flurries of madness (never overdone) etc. For me, though, his most impressive feat is to show the depth of the character's affinity with the fox. When Charlie lets loose those thin, unearthly yowls, or rolls on his back in dustbins, the identification is almost sexual in its intensity.

Human Animals, a recent play by Stef Smith at the Royal Court, imagined a world in which nature had started to fight back in our overcrowded cities. The piece became a political parable about ethnic cleansing and the hysteria whipped up against minorities as the human race retaliated with genocidal culls. But it would be a simplification of Run The Beast Down to say that Charlie's love-hate relationship with the beast illustrates the proposition that, to put it baldly, You are yourself the thing that you fear. That's just one of the suggestions thrown up. Halder's assured and eloquent debut play is all the better for being inexplicit about its main quarry.

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Run The Beast Down, Finborough, London, review: Ben Aldridge keeps you compelled by the character's monomania - The Independent

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Age of Anger – Asia Times

Posted: at 3:04 pm

Every once in a (long) while a book comes out that rips the zeitgeist, shining on like a crazy diamond.Age of Anger, by Pankaj Mishra, author of the also-seminal From the Ruins of Empire, might as well be the latest avatar.

Think of this book as the ultimate (conceptual) lethal weapon in the hearts and minds of a rootless cosmopolitan Teenage Wasteland striving to find its true call as we slouch through the longest the Pentagon would say infinite of world wars; a global civil war (which in my 2007 book Globalistan I called Liquid War).

Mishra, a sterling product of East-meets-West, essentially argues its impossible to understand the present if we dont acknowledge the subterranean homesick blues contradicting the ideal of cosmopolitan liberalism the universal commercial society of self-interested rational individuals first conceptualized by the Enlightenment via Montesquieu, Adam Smith, Voltaire and Kant.

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Historys winner ended up being a sanitized narrative of benevolent Enlightenment. The tradition of rationalism, humanism, universalism and liberal democracy was supposed to have always been the norm. It was clearly too disconcerting, Mishra writes, to acknowledge that totalitarian politics crystallized the ideological currents (scientific racism, jingoistic rationalism, imperalism, technicism, aestheticized politics, utopianism, social engineering) already convulsing Europe in the late 19th century.

So, evoking T.S. Eliot, to frame the backward half-look, over the shoulder, towards the primitive terror that eventually led to The West versus The Rest, weve got to look at the precursors.

Enter Pushkins Eugene Onegin the first of many superflous man in Russian fiction, with his Bolivar hat, clutching a statue of Napoleon and a portrait of Byron, as Russia, trying to catch up with the West, mass-produced spiritually unmoored youth with a quasi-Byronic conception of freedom, further inflated by German Romanticism. The best Enlightenment critics had to be Germans and Russians, latecomers to politico-economic modernity.

Dostoevsky: Society dominated by the war of all against all in which most were condemned to be losers.

Two years before publishing the astonishing Notes from the Underground, Dostoyevsky, in his tour of Western Europe, was already seeing a society dominated by the war of all against all in which most were condemned to be losers.

In London, in 1862, at the International Exhibition at the Crystal Palace, Dostoyevsky had an illumination (You become aware of a colossal idea that here there is victory and triumph. You even begin vaguely to fear something.) Amid the stupor, Dostoyevsky was also cunning enough to observe how materialist civilization was enhanced as much by its glamor as by military and maritime domination.

Russian literature eventually crystalized crime at random as the paradigm of individuality savoring identity and asserting ones will (later mirrored in the mid-20th century by beat icon William Burroughs claiming shooting at random as his ultimate thrill).

The path had been carved for the swelling beggars banquet to start bombing the Crystal Palace even as, Mishra reminds us, intellectuals in Cairo, Calcutta, Tokyo and Shanghai were reading Jeremy Bentham, Adam Smith, Thomas Paine, Herbert Spencer and John Stuart Mill to understand the secret of the perpetually expanding capitalist bourgeoisie.

And this after Rousseau, in 1749, had set the foundation stone of the modern revolt against modernity, now splintered in a wilderness of mirrored echoes as the Crystal Palace is de facto implanted in gleamy ghettos all around the world.

Mishra credits the idea of his book to Nietzsche commenting the epic querelle between the envious plebeian Rousseau and the serenely elitist Voltaire who duly hailed the London Stock Exchange, when it became fully operational, as a secular embodiment of social harmony.

Nietzsche: Ultimate cartographer of Resentment. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

But it was Nietzsche who eventually came from central casting, as a fierce detractor of both liberal capitalism and socialism, to make Zarathustras enticing promise a magnetic Holy Grail to Bolsheviks (Lenin, though, hated it), the left-wing Lu Xun in China, fascists, anarchists, feminists and hordes of disgruntled aesthetes.

Mishra also reminds us how Asian anti-imperialists and American robber barrons borrowed eagerly from Herbert Spencer, the first truly global thinker who coined the survival of the fittest mantra after reading Darwin.

Nietzsche was the ultimate cartographer of Resentment. Max Weber prophetically framed the modern world as an iron cage from which only a charismatic leader may offer escape. And anarchist icon Mikhail Bakunin, for his part, had already in 1869 conceptualized the revolutionist as severing every link with the social order and with the entire civilized world He is its merciless enemy and continues to inhabit it with only one purpose to destroy it.

Bakunin: the revolutionary as merciless enemy of the civilized world. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Escaping the Supreme Modernist James Joyces nightmare of history in fact the iron cage of modernity a viscerally militant secession from a civilization premised on gradual progress under liberal-democratic trustees is now raging, out of control, far beyond Europe.

Ideologies that may be radically opposed nonetheless grew symbiotically out of the cultural maelstrom of the late 19th century, from Islamic fundamentalism, Zionism and Hindu nationalism to Bolshevism, Nazism, Fascism and revamped Imperialism.

Not only WWII but the current endgame was also visualized by the brilliant, tragic Walter Benjamin in the 1930s, when he was already warning about the self-alienation of mankind, finally able to experience its own destruction as an aesthetic pleasure of the first order. Todays live-streaming DIY jihadis are its pop version, as ISIStries to configure itself as the ultimate negation of the pieties of neoliberal modernity.

Weaving savory streams of politics and literature cross-pollination, Mishra takes his time to set the scene for The Big Debate between those developing world masses whose lives are stamped by the Atlanticist Wests still largely acknowledged history of violence and the liquid modernity (Bauman) elites yielding from the (selected) part of the world that made the crucial breakthroughs since the Enlightenment in science, philosophy, art and literature.

This goes way beyond a mere debate between East and West. We cannot understand the current global civil war, this post-modernist, post-truth intense mix of envy and sense of humiliation and powerlessness, if we dont attempt to dismantle the conceptual and intellectual architecture of historys winners in the West, drawn from the triumphalist history of Anglo-American over-achievements.

Even at the height of the Cold War, US theologian Reinhold Niebuhr was mocking the bland fanatics of Western civilization in their blind faith that every society is destined to evolve just as a handful of nations in the West sometimes did.

And this the irony! while the liberal internationalist cult of progress glaringly mimicked the Marxist dream of internationalist revolution.

Arendt: Homelessness on an unprecedented scale, rootlessness to an unprecedented depth. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

In her 1950 preface to The Origins of Totalitarianism now a resurgent mega-best seller on Amazon Hannah Arendt essentially told us to forget about the eventual restoration of the old world order; we were condemned to watch history repeat itself, homelessness on an unprecedented scale, rootlessness to an unprecedented depth.

Meanwhile, as Carl Schorske noted in his spectacular Fin-de-Siecle Vienna: Politics and Culture, American scholarship cut the cord of consciousness linking the past to the present; bluntly sanitized history; and then centuries of civil war, imperial ravage, genocide and slavery in Europe and America simply disappeared. Only one TINA (there is no alternative) narrative was allowed; how Atlanticists privileged with reason and individual autonomy made the modern world.

Enter master spoiler Jalal Al-e-Ahmad, born in 1928 in poor south Tehran, and the author of Westoxification (1962), a key reference text of Islamist ideology, where he writes about how Sartres Erostratus fires a revolver at the people in the street blindfolded; Nabokovs protagonist drives his car into the crowd; and the stranger, Mersault, kills someone in reaction to a bad case of sunburn. Talk about a lethal crossover existentialism meets Tehran slums to stress what Hanna Arendt called negative solidarity.

And enter Abu Musab al-Suri, born in 1958 one year after Osama bin Laden in a devout middle class family in Aleppo. It was al-Suri not the Egyptian Al-Zawahiri who designed a leaderless global jihad strategy in The Global Islamic Resistance Call, based on unconnected cells and individual operations. Al-Suri was the Samuel clash of civilizations Huntington of al-Qaeda. Mishra defines him as the Mikhail Bakunin of the Muslim world.

Responding to that silly neo-Hegelian end of history meme at the end of the Cold War, Allan Bloom warned that fascism might be the future; and John Gray telegraphed the return of primordial forces, nationalist and religious, fundamentalist and soon, perhaps, Malthusian.

And that leads us to why the exceptional bearers of Enlightenment humanism and rationalism cannot explain the current geopolitical turmoil from ISIS to Brexit to Trump. They could never come up with anything more sophisticated than binary opposition of free and unfree; the same 19th century Western clichs about the non-West; and the relentless demonization of that perennially backward Other: Islam. Hence the new long war (Pentagon terminology) against Islamofascism.

Islamofascist? Photo: AFP

They could never understand, as Mishra stresses, the implications of that meeting of minds in a Supermax prison in Colorado between Oklahoma City bomber, all-American Timothy McVeigh, and the mastermind of the first attack on the World Trade Center, Ramzi Yousef (non-devout Muslim, Pakistani father, Palestinian mother).

And they cannot understand how ISIS conceptualizers can regiment, online, an insulted, injured teenager from a Parisian suburb or an African shantytown and convert him into a narcissist Baudelairean? dandy loyal to a rousing cause worth fighting for. The parallel between the DIY jihadi and the 19th century Russian terrorist incarnating the syphilis of the revolutionary passions, as Alexander Herzen described it is uncanny.

Bombing Barcelona in 1893

or executions in the 21st century. Photo: Reuters

And the DIY jihadis top enemy is not even Christian; its the apostate Shiite. Mass rapes, choreographed murders, the destruction of Palmyra, Dostoyevsky had already identified it all; as Mishra puts it, its impossible for modern-day Raskolnikovs to deny themselves anything, and possible to justify anything.

Its impossible to summarize all the rhizomatic (hat tip to Deleuze-Guattari) intellectual crossfire deployed by Age of Anger. Whats clear is that to understand the current global civil war, archeological reinterpretation of the Wests hegemonic narrative of the past 250 years is essential. Otherwise we will be condemned, like puny Sisyphean specks, to endure not only the recurrent nightmare of history but also its recurrent blowback.

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Taking Liberties With Workable Liberty – Big Think

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1. Our way of life takes liberties with human nature. It uses Enlightenment ideas about reason which Samuel Hammond says psychologists know are very unrealistic (if not laughable).

2. Hammonds essay on liberalism (=workable liberties sought by lefties and conservatives) makes many crucial points, but isnt entirely realistic about reasons role.

3. Key principles of workable liberty are discovered, not invented. For instance, Hammond says, church/state separation and multicultural religious toleration were discovered in 1590s India under Islamic rule. And in 1640s Europe after many wars. (Aside, the supposed failure of multiculturalismisnt universal).

4. Certain behavioral rule patterns (like the Golden Rule, or property rights) are discoverable by any perspective-taking game-theoretic thinking.

5. Game theory enables mathematicalethics" with patterns as provable as geometry. And like geometry, game theory takes teaching (try rediscovering Euclid). But cooperation-preserving game theory matters far more than geometry.

6. Hammond mentions the badly taught Prisoners Dilemma game. If the strategy labeled rational produces bad results, is it rightly called rational? That the Golden Ruled or god-fearing beat rationalists suggests we need to rescue rationality.

7. Experts play a vital role says Hammond. Yes, but only if theyre properly motivated. If experts (or leaders) arent loyal to something above self-gain, like the public good, theyre buyable and unreliable (see Plato on greed-driven politics, + original idiocy).

8. Hammond feels that reason can help establish cooperative norms. But theyre also established, transmitted and internalized emotionally (see paleo-economics). Social emotions evolved partly for cooperation, as did language (weve got evolved social cooperation rule processors, akin to our tacit grammar rule processors).

9. Darwin saw that in humans workable cooperative norms work like natural-moral selection. Your way of life discovers them, or it dies out (see needism, + negative telos).

10. Hammond advises reason and persuasion, not fear-mongering or other emotive strategies. But persuasion often requires emotion (see Aristotles rhetoric). The trick is to recruit emotions for good, not to ignore them (see Platos emotive Chariot, + facts versus fears).

11. Many besides psychologists know that the Enlightenments reason-reliance is laughably unrealistic. Only the unobservant or experts educated into rationalist delusions or theory induced blindness (like model-mesmerized economists) could believe otherwise.

12. Some Enlightenment thinkers understood; Hobbes>Reason is not...born with usbut attained by industry, Hume>Reason Is and Ought Only to Be the Slave of the Passions:

13. But less realistic ideas won, and Enlightenment errors, though unempirical, still underpin democracy and economics.

14. Three unempirical Enlightenment errors, rationalism, individualism, and hedonism, are particularly seductive because theyre partly truth. However their elegant oversimplifications exclude much that matters. Theyre typically empirically complex compositions hybridized with their opposites (emotional and relational rationality, self-deficient individualism, painstaking mattering and meaning-seeking).

15. No workable liberty can permit freedom to harm what your community depends on. Yet logic that pits self-interest against collective self-preservation lurks among the market-mesmerized.

16. Ways of life built on unempirical views of emotions or reason arent sustainable. Hammond makes progress by using empirically sounder psychology (e.g., mentioning System 1 + System 2). But long-lived liberty requires behavioral politics and better behaved behavioural models.

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IllustrationbyJulia Suits,The New Yorkercartoonist & author ofThe Extraordinary Catalog of Peculiar Inventions

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Go for introspection, Left parties told – The Hindu

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Its time the Left parties introspect where they had floundered, and developed a lingo to address the aspirations of the new middle class, Hamid Dhabolkar, son of the slain anti-superstition campaigner Narendra Dhabolkar and a leader of the Maharashtra Andhashraddha Nirmoolan Samiti that works towards eradicating superstitions, has said.

They must ask themselves and find out where they went wrong. As to whether they were not adequately appreciative of the new role of the middle class that emerged in the 1990s, he said in an interaction with The Hindu on the sidelines of the DYFI national meeting which he addressed on Thursday.

Dr. Dhabolkar, a psychiatrist by profession, feels that Left politics for some reason had taken the back seat in national polity in the 1990s and the vacuum thus created was soon captured and filled by the far Right communal forces with a flourish. It is therefore important that the Left in India remain sensitive to issues of culture, which are political as well, and address them as part of their pro-poor agenda, he says.

To cite an instance, sorcery and black magic have been used time and again by opportunistic, self-proclaimed godmen to exploit the poor, he says. While his father had led the struggle for legislation against black magic, Maharashtra promulgated an Act after his father fell to the guns of bigots in 2013.

Dr. Dhabolkar is happy that the Kerala Sastra Sahithya Parishad has taken up the cause for such an act with the Kerala government.

Sabarimala temple

If the anti-superstition body that he is part of had successfully led a struggle for entry of women into the Shani Shingnapur temple in Maharashtra, he now would want the same to be allowed at Sabarimala temple.

The case is coming up for hearing in the Supreme Court on February 20, on the second anniversary of communist leader and rationalist Govind Pansares murder by anti-nationalists, he says.

It pains Dr. Dhabolkar to think that justice has not been delivered yet in the murders of Narendra Dhabolkar, Govind Pansare and M.M. Kalburgi; trial has been rather slow and the actual shooters are absconding. But it is important that the message left by them go far and wide.

Megha Pansare

Govind Pansares daughter-in-law Megha Pansare thinks combating superstition is as important as the fight against globalisation. By opposing superstition, you are promoting rationalism, scientific temper, and freedom of thought, says Dr. Megha, an activist with the National Federation of Indian Women and a lecturer in Russian at the Shivaji University in Kolhapur, Maharashtra.

Govinda Pansare was a cultural activist and a politician and deemed cultural activity as part of his political commitment. He was gunned down when he was on the morning walk with his spouse. Now, as an act of resistance, Dr. Megha is organising morning walks by people on the 20th of each month.

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Rubbing for the Green An Irishman’s Diary about David Hume’s big toe – Irish Times

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Many Irish rugby fans in Edinburgh this weekend will at some point pass the statue of David Hume, prominently located on the citys most prestigious thoroughfare, the Royal Mile. If they notice it, the superstitious among them may even stop to rub the figures right big toe.

When sculptor Sandy Stoddart was preparing the work in the mid-1990s, he correctly identified a public demand for statues of the famous dead to have rubbable body parts. So casting the 18th century philosopher in Roman attire, without shoes, he arranged for the right foot to protrude from the plinth, with a tantalisingly flexed toe.

Stoddart predicted that the rubbing of same would become an ancient tradition. He was right. Since its installation in 1997, the toe has been been burnished to a shiny bronze by those in search of luck. Hume, a famous rationalist, may be turning in his grave.

It could be worse. Had the sculptor not been careful, the great philosopher might have shared the indignities of Victor Noir, a 19th-century Parisian journalist killed in a duel, who unwittingly founded a fertility cult thanks to the bronze likeness on his grave having a conspicuously swollen crotch, which is now being shined for all eternity in Pre Lachaise cemetery, by women intent on motherhood.

In Verona, a statue of the fictional Juliet has had one of her breasts similarly polished.

And I noticed recently that this trend of inappropriate touching of monuments has extended to Dublin, via the mammarian tourism magnets of Molly Malone.

Rationalism aside, Irish rugby fans might in any case want to think twice before rubbing Humes toe. For although the man was undoubtedly possessed of a towering intellect, he was also what we would now call a racist. He considered some peoples innately inferior to others.

Among these were the Irish.

Here he is in his History of England (1773), for example, explaining why this country so badly needed invading in 1169: The Irish, from the beginning of time, had been buried in the most profound barbarism and ignorance; as they were never conquered or even invaded by the Romans, from whom all the western world derived its civility, they continued still in the most rude state of society, and were distinguished only by those vices to which human nature, not tamed by education or restrained by laws, is for ever subject.

So at least we had an excuse in his eyes the failure of the Romans to humanise us.

Perhaps too, in life, some Irish people just rubbed him up the wrong way. Still, confronted with his smug, Roman toga-wearing features, I might be inclined to boycott the toe on principle, regardless of its supposed powers.

It is knowledge or wisdom, by the way, that the statue is said to confer. Thus, before tourists picked up on the habit, the superstition was the preserve of local philosophy students, especially before exams.

That being so, its the Irish team and coaches, not the fans, who should be rubbing it, before they face this afternoons practical in Murrayfield. But then again, in the matter of how to win rugby matches, Joe Schmidt appears to have more knowledge in his big toe than most of his rivals.

Superstition should not enter into it.

Mind you, Schmidt and all other rational explanations aside, the turnaround in results between Scotland and Ireland over recent years has been extraordinary.

Many of todays team wont remember it, but there was a time, as recently as the 1990s, when Ireland couldnt win this fixture. Only a 6-6 draw in 1994 interrupted a sequence of 11 straight defeats and this during an era when, on paper, Scotland were always at least as bad as us.

Even after that run ended, we still couldnt win in Edinburgh.

The Scots decline, funnily enough, set in soon after the installation of Humes sculpture, although the locals loss of wisdom about how to beat us may have been influenced by other developments.

That fine sportswriter Vincent Hogan has noted that, in the run-up to our last Edinburgh hammering, in 2001, it was suspected there had been surreptitious surveillance of the Irish training sessions.

So in 2003, new coach Eddie OSullivan left a decoy list of lineout calls, accidentally on purpose, in a bin near the training base. Scotlands subsequent performance suggested that, to paraphrase Pope, a little planted misinformation can be a dangerous thing. Ireland won 36-6, and have been (almost) unbeatable in the fixture ever since.

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