Fifty Shades Of Grey - Trailer

the playa

the playa

When Bar Rafaeli appeared completely nude on the cover of Esquire, was it performance art? Possibly — we did have an actual artist named James Victore paint the words of Stephen King on her body. Is the above photo? Absolutely, at least according to Milo Moiré, a performance artist and psychologist based in Duesseldorff, Germany.
A few days ago, she decided to strip down to nothing but words — the names of the articles of clothing she normally would be wearing. Then she walked outside, down the street, onto a bus, and lined up for a ticket to Art Basel, the extremely exclusive event that happens every year at the intersection of Switzerland, Germany, and France. Along her 1-hour journey, men and women stopped, stared, smiled, took pictures, and generally let her do her thing. Until authorities at Art Basel stopped her from entering.
Here’s why. “The issue was not that she was nude, but that her nudity was part of a performance that was not part of the platform of galleries presented at Art Basel,” a spokesperson told Esquire. “The fair actually had performance inside taking place with nudity.” Indeed, if she was simply strolling in to the show, and not performing, she could have totally done that! “We do not have any restriction against nudity within the show grounds,” the spokesperson added.
(You can watch the whole trip on this French news site.

When Bar Rafaeli appeared completely nude on the cover of Esquire, was it performance art? Possibly — we did have an actual artist named James Victore paint the words of Stephen King on her body. Is the above photo? Absolutely, at least according to Milo Moiré, a performance artist and psychologist based in Duesseldorff, Germany.

A few days ago, she decided to strip down to nothing but words — the names of the articles of clothing she normally would be wearing. Then she walked outside, down the street, onto a bus, and lined up for a ticket to Art Basel, the extremely exclusive event that happens every year at the intersection of Switzerland, Germany, and France. Along her 1-hour journey, men and women stopped, stared, smiled, took pictures, and generally let her do her thing. Until authorities at Art Basel stopped her from entering.

Here’s why. “The issue was not that she was nude, but that her nudity was part of a performance that was not part of the platform of galleries presented at Art Basel,” a spokesperson told Esquire. “The fair actually had performance inside taking place with nudity.” Indeed, if she was simply strolling in to the show, and not performing, she could have totally done that! “We do not have any restriction against nudity within the show grounds,” the spokesperson added.

(You can watch the whole trip on this French news site.

Depicting James Brown on screen has always been a seductive proposition. As one of the greatest stage performers of the 20th century, he has inspired documentarians, playwrights, comedians and other artists who see the outlines of his greatness. But capturing the man inside, and the meaning of his life, is a tricky business.There was a fluidity to his identity that was reflected in his many stage nicknames: Mr. Dynamite, the hardest working man in show business, Soul Brother No. 1, the Godfather of Soul and the Original Disco Man, as he variously billed himself. All enduring pop stars have the ability to shift with the culture, but Brown’s moves — from staunch integrationist to proto-black nationalist and back, from civil rights role model to wife beater, from disciplined bandleader to drug addict — suggest an inner turmoil that belied his outer confidence. Shortly after his death, I helped edit a collection of articles that spanned Brown’s long career, and in reading the pieces was struck by how many journalists saw the contours of the man but struggled to truly penetrate his psyche. With a feature film about to arrive and a coming documentary, it’s time to take stock of this imposing figure. - from his review of “Get On Up” the biopic based in the life of the great James Brown, Nelson George for the New York Times

Depicting James Brown on screen has always been a seductive proposition. As one of the greatest stage performers of the 20th century, he has inspired documentarians, playwrights, comedians and other artists who see the outlines of his greatness. But capturing the man inside, and the meaning of his life, is a tricky business.

There was a fluidity to his identity that was reflected in his many stage nicknames: Mr. Dynamite, the hardest working man in show business, Soul Brother No. 1, the Godfather of Soul and the Original Disco Man, as he variously billed himself. All enduring pop stars have the ability to shift with the culture, but Brown’s moves — from staunch integrationist to proto-black nationalist and back, from civil rights role model to wife beater, from disciplined bandleader to drug addict — suggest an inner turmoil that belied his outer confidence. Shortly after his death, I helped edit a collection of articles that spanned Brown’s long career, and in reading the pieces was struck by how many journalists saw the contours of the man but struggled to truly penetrate his psyche. With a feature film about to arrive and a coming documentary, it’s time to take stock of this imposing figure. - from his review of “Get On Up” the biopic based in the life of the great James Brown, Nelson George for the New York Times