The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum
congratulates BOMB Gala honorees
James Keith Brown
and Eric G. Diefenbach
BOMB 85 Fall 2003
According to most accounts, the camera obscura was developed in Europe during the 13th- and 14th-centuries, although versions of the device may have been used even earlier in China and the Arab world.
I met with Rikki Ducornet at her lovely home in Denver on a darkening afternoon in early June. Outside the windows the day went purple, trees gently thrashed and agitated doves flew off.
Robbie Baitz is a little bit of a communist in the way that Tolstoy was a little bit of a communist. He is fascinated by the backside of power and, I believe, could be as precise and loquacious in ripping Napoleon a new one as Count Leo ever was.
Gina Gershon first came to my attention suspended upside down on a rope wearing glitter and a black wig.
As a jazz musician always looking for cutting-edge, exciting, and thoughtful collaborators to expand my concept of music with, I was instantly struck by rapper and producer El-P, aka Jaime Meline, when I met him last year.
The torture of the pregnancy was unceasing and Elsa’s visits to the maternity clinic interminably long. On the days that Elsa didn’t skip school she acted unconcerned.
David Humphrey creates ecosystems that advertise themselves as something you have seen before. Their profound weirdness creeps up on you: his pictures become stranger and more original with time.
Joe Fyfe on how Tran Luong’s political past in Vietnam inspires healing in his performances and installations.
Photographer Clifford Ross writes about his Wave Music project—the methods and equipment he uses as well as the philosophical underpinnings driving his work.
Fela Kuti, composer, musician, dissident, candidate for Nigerian presidency, and the father of Afro-beat, has been compared to Bob Marley and Bob Dylan for his musical innovation and political voice.
In Pilot for a Soap Opera about an Egyptian Air Hostess, Sherif el-Azma conjures the quiet tension of an object about to fall.
A few years ago, Daniel Pinchbeck, a self-described Manhattan intellectual and atheist, found himself in spiritual crisis: psychically isolated, a fish in a bucket of water, constrained by a Freudian worldview and longing for the ocean of the collective unconscious.
“I sing the body electric”—this was Walt Whitman’s Romantic wish, for music to turn us on and shock us in our skin.
Neatly bound in blue, Kenneth Goldsmith’s third book, Day, comprises every letter, number and symbol printed in the September 1, 2000 edition of the New York Times, laboriously retyped by the author to a length of 836 pages.
There are about ten words spoken in Sylvain Chomet’s first feature-length animated film, including the drawn-out, lilting sounds that the characters occasionally make, as if communicating were an act of hopefully humming almost-words while gesturing with hands and head and pointedly rolling one’s eyes.
Something is—and has been, for a long time—happening in Spain, something largely unheard by English speakers, that brings together the nuevo flamenco movement with the music of the grand Iberian diaspora.
It would be easy to believe the ethereal electronic lullabies on So’s lovely self-titled debut album originated aboard a starship on the farthest reaches of the astral plane rather than on a PowerBook at a 21-year-old Japanese woman’s parents’ house in Mito, Japan.
For his latest adaptation, a treatment of Flaubert’s 1874 novel about virtue and sin, Robert Wilson teamed up with Bernice Johnson Reagon, a teacher, scholar, activist, and Smithsonian curator emeritus as well as founder and co-director of Sweet Honey in the Rock, the long-standing African-American female a cappella group.