...will he ever win?
January 12, 2012
OUCH! I scratched my lip on the French Press I was holding, and the computer wouldn't let me retake the shot. Oh, well. The girl in the background is my assistant chef, Magnolia.
Anyway....
GOOD MORNING!!! I don't know about you, but I'm going to have a cup of coffee...a faux cafe latte, actually...made The Theory Corner way. What way is that? Read on!
The Theory Corner way uses a French Press, a milk frother and a bean grinder. None of this stuff costs very much, and pressed coffee doesn't take long to make.
Okay, you put the water on to boil. Lots of people use hippie water (bottled water) but I use filtered tap water. Nobody in LA needs to use bottled water in the winter months, because our water in that time of year comes from the High Sierras, and is top quality. During the Summer we buy water from Nevada, and that's murky, so if you're from Southern California and you feel you must buy bottled water, then that's the time to do it.
Anyway, while the water's boiling you grind your coffee beans in one of those little counter top grinders like the one pictured above. I like Starbucks coffee, French Roast Bold, Whole Bean. You can get Starbucks brand coffee at the supermarket. Grind the beans "coarse," which takes about 9 seconds.
The water hasn't come to a boil yet, so you can get started on the milk froth. I recommend buying a frother (pictured above, on the right...on the left is the French Press) but if you don't have one, just put some milk in a jar, shake it vigorously, and put it in the microwave for about a minute. Now you have milk froth.
Put the milk aside, and add the ground coffee to the French Press, along with a tiny pinch of salt, some sugar, and maybe a drop of vanilla extract. Pour in the boiling water. At the 1/5 mark stop and stir the coffee and water. [Magnolia's doing it wrong here...the idea is to stir only when the level is very low]. Never stir it again after this. Pour in the rest of the boiling water and let it all steep for four minutes: no more, no less. At exactly four minutes, press the plunger down slowly...about thirty seconds for the whole plunge.
Now you're ready to pour the coffee into a cup. I put a little froth on the bottom, beneath the coffee, and the rest on top. A lot of people prefer to have all the froth on top. Add some whipped cream and cinnamon or nutmeg and you're done. Maybe eat a piece of banana bread with it. Delicious...but it doesn't stay warm very long.
A video to help you get started:
Alton Brown uses a burr grinder. One of these days I might get one, but my humble little blade grinder works so well that I see no reason to change.
January 12, 2012 04:29 PM
This (above) is Rocinba, a slum on a mountain in Rio de Janeiro. I got interested in the place because it was the locale for an action film I just saw on DVD, called "Fast Five." Yeah, it's a Vin Diesel film. I'm not a fan of the man, but this one worked for me (well, sort of...you have to forgive a lot). It made me want to visit Rocinba for real. Geez, I'd probably get killed there.
The thing about Rocinba is that it succeeds in being somewhat beautiful, even though it's a slum. How many slums can you say that about?
Parts of Rocinba remind me of Montreal's "Habitat (above)." Both make high density living seem appealing, at least from a distance.
Back to Rocinba: here Von Deisel (above) tries to elude the police by taking a shortcut through what may be the community's drainage. Do you see what I mean about the place being good looking? Sure, it's toxic and decrepit, but if you had to live in absolute squalor, you could do worse.
Imagine what it's like to climb these hills every day if you don't have a car. Come to think of it, it couldn't be that easy even if you do have a car. I think a lot of people have motorcycles.
In real life the place (above) is run by drug lords who provide some electricity and water in exchange for loyalty from the people who live here. Every once in a while the drug people hold big late-night block parties which attract the rowdiest people around. They fight with each other and lots of people end up getting killed.
It looks like some of the buildings (above) have been given a paint job. Rio is trying to clean up the slums in time for The Olympics and the world soccer championships.
In November there were pitched battles between the drug gangs and the cops.
The people who lived there, including some of the children, were so used to violence that they casually went about their business, oblivious to the machine gun fire and exploding grenades all around them.
What a city of contrasts! Beauty and ugliness side by side!
A YouTube video claims that there are 50,000 murders a year in Brazil! No wonder that country wins so many of the UFC martial arts championships!
Here (above) a couple runs along the rooftops, trying to evade the police.
They have no choice but to jump down onto a distant roof of corrugated tin fragments. What a view!
January 12, 2012 04:11 PM
Which do you prefer: the old 1947 version of "Miracle on 34th Street," or the newer 1994 version? It's not a fair comparison because the older version had a bigger budget and some of the best stars and technicians of the day. Good writing, too. Even so, comparison is still possible.
I maintain that the biggest advantage the old version had was a philosophical one. People in those days had a more interesting way of seeing the world. We see things through a depressing Post Modern filter, or at least we did back in 1994 when the remake was made.
Let's take a look at some examples.....
Here's the start of the 1947 version: the titles are superimposed over a traveling backshot of Santa walking along Manhattan streets. Introducing a robust, confident character with a backshot is a great way to create suspense, and the immersion in the life of the city alerts us to the film's subtext, which is that the modern world (and specifically New York) is a wonderful place to live.
The titles finish and Santa, who we'd only seen from the back til now, rounds a corner and stops to kibbitz when a shopkeeper goofs up his reindeer display. The back and forth between the two men establish Santa's personality. It works fine.
Now here's (above) the 1994 version. It starts with a frontal shot of Santa walking down a single street. The shot is made with a long lens, which flattens the background and robs it of its character. No reveal, no subtext, and no color. Why is everything brown? I understand that it's cheaper to shoot this way, but is this really the best the director could do? What went wrong?
What went wrong is that the producer handed off a sentimental 40s story to an unsentimental Post Modern director. Unlike Woody Allen, the director just couldn't bring himself to cast New York in a positive light.
In the newer film Santa's character (above) is established by having him react to an astonished kid who recognizes him. It's not a bad way to go, but the handling was unimaginative. Too many close-ups, too long lenses, too few extras and pedestrian dialogue. And that's not all.
Also at fault is the flat, deliberately deadening Post Modern way of staging. Like atonal music, it's a bleak style that's deliberately meant to be flat and unsettling. Flat anesthetizes the senses. It's a style that fights the sentimental story it's trying to tell. It's a shame because you can tell that Richard Attenburough (Santa) had real enthusiasm for the role.
Here's the old version again. Santa (unseen here) discovers that the parade Santa is drunk , and storms off to report the problem to the coordinator, Maureen O'Hara, pictured above. It's all staged perfectly and there's plenty of extras. Everybody's looking at O'Hara...she's the center of attention, which is a good way to introduce a star.
Here's (above) how the Post Modern version introduces its star. She's in a dark media truck loaded with video monitors. What gives? The parade coordinator is our star, and we can hardly see her.
Okay, it's a cheap way to shoot, but it also fits with the Post Modern, Phillip Glass, trance rhythm of the film. The Post Modern style looks for broad patterns, and resists the notion of making scenes stand out. That's an odd style to choose for a classy story that begs for virtuoso scenes.
I'll add that video monitors are a Post Modern symbol of alienation. How depressing!
Here's (above) the old version showing Natalie Wood and John Payne watching the parade from O'Hara's apartment. Seeing the parade reminds us of the exuberance and grandeur of the city. What the characters say has extra weight because the visuals connect them to the grand adventure below.
Here's (above) a similar shot in the new version. No grand adventure here. Why is everything so dark and flat? And why is the parade reduced to shapes passing by the window? Couldn't the filmmaker afford to rent some stock parade footage?
The bleak graphic treatment makes me feel that the parade is either menacing or uninteresting, and that the foreground figures are hiding out to avoid it. How odd for a film that's supposed to be glorifying Christmas. You get the feeling that the director doesn't really care much about the holiday or about the city. What was the studio thinking?
Do you agree? Rent both versions from Netflix and make the comparison yourself.
January 12, 2012 03:46 PM
January 08, 2012
No, that's not our party above, but if feels like our party felt. It was wild, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
On arrival, the first order of business was to find the food area and do some serious chowing down. The problem was, I met so many friends on the way to the food that it took forever to get there. I confess to hoping that girls I'd known in the past would take me aside and admit that they'd secretly lusted after my body way back when but, alas, nothing like that happened.
What did happen was that I met lots of old friends who I sorely missed. Half were out of work and half were doing just fine. The guys who weren't working put on a brave front, which was about all they could do.
I forgot to say that all this took place in the Gene Autry Museum, and I gradually made my way to the area where the exhibits were. What I'd hoped to see was their retro boys bedroom from the 50s, and I was not disappointed.
Holy Mackerel! There it was, the cowboy bed I had when I was a little kid! The chenille bedspread with embroidered lariat thrower, the wheel headboard...I almost broke into tears. What was missing was the arsenal of cool plastic guns that every kid had in those days. No kid would dream of leaving the house without packing. You needed a Derringer water pistol at the very least.
The exhibit was full of photos of armed children. Here's (above) a lucky kid who had the complete line of Hopalong Cassidy merchandise. Those films were made way before I was born, but TV gave them new life, and I and every other kid watched cartloads of cowboys chasing each other around the Chatsworth Hills. I'll add that we watched them on tiny screens that required constant vertical and horizontal adjustment.
On the way out of the exhibit area I stumbled on staggeringly beautiful pictures like this one (above) by Thomas Moran.
Or this one (above) by...er...I don't know.
Or this one (above), by...I'm guessing...Thomas Moran again. It's called "Slave Hunt."
The museum also owns this picture (above) by California watercolorist Phil Dike. Wow! Autry had good taste!
Back in the main hall (above) the party had really caught fire, and was even getting rowdy in spots. A couple of people I didn't know recognized me from pictures of myself on Theory Corner, and that was great. Unfortunately I punished them by going on and on about things they were only vaguely interested in.
Oh well, I guess a party isn't really a party unless every guest makes a fool of himself at least once.
January 08, 2012 06:49 AM
January 07, 2012
Classical figure drawing (above) is helpful for an artist, no doubt about it. It's indispensable, even for cartoonists.
The problem is, that this kind of drawing disciplines an artist to think of the body in terms of beautiful shapes and forms. That's important, of course, but cartoonists are like baggy pants comedians. We also have to think of the body as a colony of mismatched and uncooperative parts, which are generally an embarrassment to its owner.
So, sure, cartoonists need classical figure drawing, but we also need practice in drawing figures that are more earthy and ignorant.
If you were teaching figure drawing to cartoonists what kind of models would you hire? Me, I'd choose funny models, like the girl above. She's a real country cyclone of a woman, straight out of Dogpatch. It doesn't get more earthy than this.
Geez, what a find! Every time I look at her (above) whole stories pop into my mind.
A model like this, with an expressive face, would probably work best in a small class of not more than fifteen students.
A first-rate female model like that would require a male model (above) to set her off. I'd choose a short, understated Mr. Meek type.
Or maybe someone like Arnold Stang (above).
For a model like this woman I'd say the ideal ratio of draped to undraped poses should be 50/50. You have to see her undraped to get an idea of what kind of structure adds up to a body like that, but draped is the only way you'll get the cool story ideas.
I'd choose models who were ham actors, and that kind of acting requires a loose story of some sort, something visual that's fun to act out.
It seems to me that the three most useful male types for a cartoonists to draw are Mr. Meeks, Leading Men (above, left) and Lumoxes. Fortunately Mr. Meeks and Lumoxes are abundant, but Leading Men are a rare type, very hard to find.
These three types should always be draped, with the Leading Man wearing only a bathing suit.
The ideal cartoony model would have been the late Imogene Coca, always draped. She was a genius actor and undraped would have broken the spell.
Physical comedians make great cartoon models, but if they're not used to doing it the poses should probably be short.
The blonde bombshell (above) is an absolute necessity for many comedic drawing sessions. The model would have to be someone worldly who looks good in a fuzzy bikini. Petite and wholesome types are fun to draw too, but not in the same session.
Hmmm....I think I'd team up this kind of woman with a Mr. Meek or a Leading Man. This kind of model would have to be frequently undraped in order to avoid a rebellion among the male students.
It would be great if a bombshell could be found who was also a dancer. If the budget permitted, I'd team her up with a sideman or two who could also dance.
In a case like this the instructor would serve as ersatz director and choreographer. It sounds complicated but I've worked with this kind of model before and, believe it or not, it comes together quickly and smoothely when the instructor makes it fun for the models.
After each new pose is settled on the cartoonist instructor might do a quick sketch of it on a large chalkboard. Seeing how an instructor organizes the shapes and spaces, and exaggerates for humor might help students who have trouble with things like that. After he does that, the instructor might make himself available for one-to-one teaching.
This woman's costume (above) is nice and cartoony: a big fluff ring to emphasize the hips, and a slit gown to empasize the legs.
Did I leave anything out, anything regarding model types? Oh yes. Some sessions should feature overweight girls in tight skirts. This kind of girl is really versatile. They can play sexy sirens or nagging housewives...almost any role. They do need to have muscle tone, though, in spite of the weight.
January 07, 2012 05:04 PM
A lot of people don't know that Herriman tried several different styles before he settled on the Krazy Kat style that he's most remembered for. When he first started out in 1901 he worked in the German style of the day, and was pretty good at it. That's his very first strip, above. It was done for Pulitzer's New York World.
How do you like the story?
Only two months later we find him experimenting with an illustration style (above).
By 1902 (above) he's dumped illustration and tries pure cartooning, a bit in the Opper/"Kattzenjammer Kids" style.
He comes under the influence of a lot of other artists in 1902, possibly including Windsor McKay (above).
Now
HERE'S (above) an interesting strip! It looks like something Milt Gross might have done, or maybe the young Sterrett. My source attributed this to Herriman, with a date of 1903, but I can't remember where I got the picture from, so I can't check it. If Herriman did draw this then it seems fair to say that both Gross, Sterrett, Barks and others were influenced by this strip, and Herriman the copier of others transformed during this period in to Herriman, whom others copy.
Gee, I got to say "whom."
I'm aware that Gross fans will find this connection between Herriman and Gross to be shocking. I'm not a historian, so if I'm wrong I hope a reader will let me know.
Somewhere in this period Herriman began to experiment with a scratchy pen and ink style. You see it in some of Herriman's "Baron Bean" drawings. I'm guessing that he got it from Bud Fisher, who did Mutt and Jeff.
I wonder if Kurtzman was influenced by this strip. Some of the Baron Bean sketches (not shown) look like Kurtzman's could have drawn them.
By 1907 (if not earlier) Herriman had perfected yet another style (above). Maybe it came out of the political cartoons he was doing in in 1904 and 5. This is my hands down favorite Herriman
.
With Krazy Kat, Herriman's pen and ink style evolved even farther, Here the scratchy, funny lines appear slightly liquid, as if they were brushed on. Were they? I don't think so. Maybe he smeared his ink lines with a little benzine. Or maybe the lines look liquid because they weren't photocopied right. I wish I knew.
January 07, 2012 04:07 PM
January 06, 2012
Are People always asking you to "friend" them on a million social media sites that promise you rewards of eternal life, love and great jobs? Someone got me to sign up for "Linked In" about 4 years ago and it has not ever gotten me any work. All the work I get is from people who are already familiar with my stuff and they call or email me directly. I think my job description is too simple: "I make
January 06, 2012 02:48 AM
January 02, 2012
Is it too late to post a Christmas card? Here's one (above) that I never finished. I just couldn't get enough time in the days before Christmas. The caricature of me is from the sidebar. John K drew it and I redrew it.
Well, Christmas was great, one of my best ever. It was indescribably wonderful to have my son home for a week. I refrained from lecturing him, which parents are apt to do, and just enjoyed the experience of hanging out with him.
My Christmas present to him was a truly enormous "Russian Divers Watch" (above) which I got from Amazon. He hated it, and now it has to be returned. I didn't mean to get a watch that big. It looked normal size in the promotion, but in real life the thing was big and heavy as a grandfather clock. It might even be a real divers watch, something you wear over a wet suit when you're way down in the Marianas Trench spearing luminescent devil fish.
The present he seemed to like best was one given to him by a girl FBI agent. It was a book about running barefoot called "Born to Run." Apparently there's an Indian tribe of super runners in Mexico who beat everybody in races, and who never wear shoes. They admit that padded shoes reduce pain, but they say that's the problem; only by allowing yourself to experience pain do you undertake the necessary correctives in your stride and stance. They believe padded shoes lead to permanent injury. Now my kid is hot to run over gravel in his bare feet.
I'm dying to tell you about my wife and daughter's Christmas adventures but they won't let me, so I'll have to keep those stories to myself.
John just got back from Europe and Canada. He says that British guys are wearing low crotch pants like the pair pictured above, except the pants he saw were torn all over. Fascinating!
Mike is back from the East Coast and he's discovered a new fez site.
Some of his favorite designs (below):
Man! Those are classy hats!
January 02, 2012 08:25 AM
December 30, 2011
I just watched a terrific Netflix documentary called "I Like Killing Flies" about Shopsin's, a hole-in-the-wall Greenwich Village restaurant that's run by an eccentric cook who's famous for kicking people out when they don't obey "The Rules."
What are The Rules? Only the owner knows, he and a few regulars. One of those rules is the subject of this post: The Party of Five Rule. A New York poet named Robert Hershon wrote a poem about this rule, and it's a falling down classic. I'm going to memorize it. See what you think....
PARTY OF FIVE
by ROBERT HERSHON
you could put a chair at the end
or push the tables together
but don't bother
This banged-up little restaurant
where you would expect no rules at all
has a firm policy against seating
parties of five
And you know who you are
a party of five
it doesn't matter if one of you
offers to leave or if
you say you could split into
a party of three and a party of two
or if the five of you come back tomorrow
in Richard Nixon masks and try to pretend
that you don't know each other
it won't work: You're a party of five
even if you're a beloved regular
Even if the place is empty
Even if you bring logic to bear
Even if you're a tackle for the Chicago Bears
it won't work
You're a party of five
You will always be a party of five
A hundred blocks from here
a hundred years from now
you will still be a party of five
and you will never savor the soup
or compare the coffee or
hear the wisdom of the cook
and the wit of the waitress or
get to hum the old-time tunes
[among which you will find
no quintets.]
P.S.: Shopsin's recently moved to fancier digs, and that's what you see in the picture above. Long time Shopsin's fans might prefer the older greasy spoon location, which was unbelievably grimy and filthy. Good food, though.
December 30, 2011 03:39 AM
Yeah, I know...these are the songs I put up every year at this time, and Mahalia Jackson's "O Holy Night" always tops the list. So shoot me...I love this stuff.
This (above) is done by the St. Thomas Children's Choir. Is that the same Church that we associate with Bach?
'Not the best version (above), I admit, but it's interesting to hear this piece sung more simply than it usually is. The title says the singer is Pavarotti, but is this really him?
My kids loved this Chipmunk song (above), and they played it over and over and over. It drove my wife nuts. One year she deliberately "lost" it, and the tearful kids made me go out into the freezing night to find another copy.
I just watched this (above) and it was buried under a clutter of annoying advertising. Sigh! What can we do? They've got us over a barrel. The video is too good to miss!
December 30, 2011 01:27 AM
