WEDNESDAY Wednesday War Journalism Max Desfor, the first person you should ...

| 16 Feb 2015 | 06:28

    Wednesday

    War Journalism

    Max Desfor, the first person you should know on the panel "Direct from the Trenches," earned his 1951 Pulitzer the old-fashioned way in Korea. The second person to know is Michael Norman, a Vietnam vet and professor of journalism at NYU. The third is most important: Judith Miller. Probably the New York Times' best-known propagandist since Walter Duranty (Stalin's apologist), Miller dutifully printed lines fed to her about Saddam's weapons capabilities by anonymous administration sources, which the administration then cited as "independent" evidence for Saddam's weapons. She's done more damage to American journalistic integrity than Jayson Blair or Stephen Glass ever did, and she needs to get grilled for it. Museum of Jewish Heritage, 36 Battery Pl. (betw. 1st Pl. & B'way), 212-945-0039, 7, free.

    Thursday

    Russian Animation

    Remember when Krusty began showing "Worker and Parasite" cartoons after Itchy and Scratchy was picked up by the Gabbo show? This is pretty much like that, as filmmaker and scholar Irina Margolina screens and discusses the works of Russian animators Starevich and Alexeieff. Hoch Hech! Donnell Library Center, 20 W. 53rd St. (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.), 212-621-0618, 6, free.

    The only constant is change itself, and tonight author Irwin Fruchtman presents a sometimes-shocking slide lecture on the major proposals for the future growth of NYC. Science, Industry and Business Library, 188 Madison Ave. (34th St.), 212-592-7000, 5:30, free.

    More War Journalism

    Photographers have been regarding the pain of others since Matthew Brady arranged the battlefield dead into grotesque still-lifes during the Civil War. But what can photographs?frozen moments wrenched from narrative, context and politics by the colonizing lens of the camera?really tell us about war and those who suffer through it? Today an all-day workshop at NYU kicks off with critics, scholars and photojournalists discussing how images depicting atrocities are interpreted by different cultures. The panelists will pay special attention to recent conflicts in Iraq, Iran and the Balkans. Casa Italiana, 24 W. 12th St. (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.), res. req., 212-998-3759, 10, free.

    Bacon Brothers

    Composed of Kevin Bacon and, presumably, his brother, the Bacon Brothers bring their shitty roots-rock to Irving Plaza tonight. Using the bands that they've opened for and/or ripped off, can you connect them to Keanu Reeves's Dogstar? Only seven moves allowed. Answers next week. 17 Irving Place (15th St.), 212-777-6800, 8, $30, $26.50 adv.

    Friday

    Versus

    In America, we say that one shouldn't put all of one's eggs in one basket, in case the basket is stolen or destroyed. In Japan, people say that a yakuza should not bury all his victims' corpses in one secluded forest, in case that forest should be enchanted and the victims all return as flesh-eating zombies. Seeing the similarity at the heart of these two expressions, Landmark Sunshine Cinema will bridge the cultural divide with Ryuhei Kitamura's Versus. What happens when your past not only catches up with you, but rises vengefully from its shallow grave like a character in the Sega Genesis classic, Altered Beast? 143 E. Houston St. (betw. 1st & 2nd Aves.), 212-330-8182, 12:00 a.m., $10 [repeats Sat.].

    Saturday

    Michael McDonald

    How far has the man in the MCI commercials stealing Kenny Rogers' look fallen? From Steely Dan and the Doobie Brothers to solo shows at the Apollo. Or is that a step up? No word on whether McDonald is scheduled to make a Showtime appearance for their upcoming series, See a Honky Get Lynched. Apollo Theater, 253 W. 125th (Adam Clayton Powell Blvd. & Frederick Douglass Blvd.), 212-531-5305, 8, $37-$47.

    Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

    It's the cute morality tale of a little mutant reindeer who could?and a lovely little trip down nostalgia lane. For 57 minutes, on a high-definition screen no less, Sony Wonder Technology Lab presents the finest, freakiest Christmastime staple of them all: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It won't be the same without the rabbit ears sticking out of the television, but you take what you can in this Pokemon world. 550 Madison Ave. (56th St.), 212-833-8100, 1:30 & 4:30, free.

    Unsilent Night

    Gather all ye faithful and start blasting the cheer. Tonight, Phil Kline's Unsilent Night takes place at Washington Square Park. More details on p. 62.

    GBH?Centro-Fly 45 W. 21st Street (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.), 212-627-7770, 10, $20 Have you ever seen a French man dance? It's all herky-jerky up and down bobs. Their skinny existential torsos going forward then back, forward then back, inhale, exhale, pose and begin again.

    Dimitri from Paris, the tall pipe-cleaner looking Parisian DJ, has a diagonal swing to his booth bob. This could be just his American and Latin disco influences showing: the percussion of congas cracking his cold French sentiments. But it's also because he's not French. He's Turkish. The man known for his disco infused house is at the remodeled Centro-Fly tonight. I'm there, too. With Tracy. (Can you see me? Right there.) She thinks the way Dimitri wiggles his boney butt is really cute. I think it's cute she hasn't noticed my secret agent oculars checking out female behinds bouncing all around.

    It would be hard for her to notice, though, in the newly renovated Centro-Fly. The club, once with its distinct retro design of swinging 60s patterns of black and white swirls and shag carpeting, has been stripped down and darkened to resemble a warehouse. Call it cutbacks. Or Centro-Fly remaining ahead of the curve by scaling back posh 90s excess. Many of the new clubs set to open this winter are favoring more chic design layouts and wellness themes. Yes, wellness. The new Spirit, which will occupy the old Twilo space, will have its clientele dancing on vitamin A, B and C from freshly made smoothies, not MDMA.

    Centro-Fly, although not as interesting looking, now offers cheaper social lubricants ($4 beers and $12 mixers) and has a more lenient door policy. It's a sign o' the times: As much as politicians would love to have the public believe the economy is on the upswing, New York City is still struggling. Especially the young class of people more enthusiastic about blowing their paycheck on reckless behavior. Sorry Mom. Sorry Dad.

    And I'll continue this behavior as long as GBH continues to bring the best native and out of town DJs to play their parties. The GBH crew of music fanatics and party promoters (it stands for "Great British House") have been keeping the tunes soulful and eclectic for almost five years now. On other nights, resident jock Carl Kennedy dishes out his selection of funk-fueled house. Relish the invisible recession.

    ?Dan Martino ([soulstatik@hotmail.com](mailto:soulstatik@hotmail.com))

    Santacon 2003

    Ahh, Christmastime. Glazed hams. Mistletoe. And several hundred rabid Santas swigging whiskey from Pine-Sol bottles. 'Tis the season for Santacon, a "not-for-profit, nonpolitical, non-religious demented Santa Claus convention." Hundreds of Kringles converge and cause bearded mayhem and holiday misfortune. Welcome to the Salvation Army on acid.

    Santacon is a loosely affiliated cabal of rapscallions, rabble-rousers and miscreants. It's "choc-full of bars, parties, subway rides, shock appeal, dirty xxx-mas carols, jingle balls, questionable acts, elf insubordination and non-stop ho-ho-hos!" according the Brooklyn Cacophony Society's website. Santacons are a global happening (Seattle, Winnipeg, London, etc.), but NYC's might be the rowdiest. In the last five years Santa hordes have stormed Flashdancers, terrorized Macy's, intimidated tourists and even clambered atop the Astor Place cube. Accomplished, for the most part, of course, while blindingly drunk.

    This year should prove no different. To participate, you need three items: comfortable shoes, an unlimited Metrocard and a red-and-white suit. As of press time, the following stores had Santa garb in stock (though you may want to call ahead): Children's Playworld in Williamsburg has models available for $40 and $70 (705 Grand St. betw. Manhattan & Graham Aves., 718-387-3692). At Party City, $40 scores a flannel outfit, while $60 upgrades to plush (38 W. 14th St. betw. 5th & 6th Aves., 212-271-7310). Ricky's will Kringles you up for $40 (466 6th Ave. betw. 11th & 12th Sts., 212-924-3401). The budget-minded should scope GEM Discount, where $10 makes you Santa-rrific (128 Delancey St. betw. Norfolk & Essex Sts., 212-533-9059). The internet, of course, also offers a bounty: oriental.com, santasuits.com, funfolly.com and cosmicoutfitters.com sell suits from $30 and up.

    While finding Santa's suit may be simple, finding Santacon may not. The date (cough?December 13?cough) is set, but the itinerary is a closely guarded secret. Still, our elf friend reminds us to keep tabs on brooklyn.cacophony.org and santacon.com. If you're lucky, you may just slurp from a Pine-Sol bottle, too.

    ?Joshua M. Bernstein

    Sunday

    Todd Colby Benefit

    On Nov. 19, a five-alarm fire tore through 11 houses on Monitor St. in Greenpoint, displacing 29 families. Among those was Todd Colby, downtown poet, Drunken Boat frontman and Yogurt Boys co-founder. For tonight's benefit, his friends will gather to raise money for the affected families. Scheduled to appear: John S. Hall, Gordon Gano, Rebecca Moore and others. The event is sponsored, in part, by Soft Skull Press and Gammon Records. Bowery Poetry Club, 308 Bowery (betw. Bleecker & Houston Sts.), 212-614-0505, 8, free, sugg. don.

    Li'l Gn'R Tribute Band

    Back around 1989, we saw the kiddie punk novelty act Old Skull open for GWAR. Or maybe it was the Flaming Lips. Hell, it could've been Naked Raygun for all we remember. In any case, Old Skull was horrible but cute, screeching about going to school and throwing hot dogs into the audience during "Hot Dog Hell." Those nine-year-olds are now in their early 20s, and we sometimes wonder what their teenage years were like. Maybe they can offer the "musicians" of Li'l Gn'r advice for dealing with, um, success at an early age. Tonight, five kids, ages five through 11, pay tribute to the 1980s godhead of Guns N' Roses in what must be the most insidious form of child abuse ever witnessed at CB's 313 Gallery. 313 Bowery (betw. 1st & 2nd Sts.), 212-677-0455, 6:30, $5.

    Blue Velvet

    What better way to pound yourself into the holiday spirit than by watching Dean Stockwell lip-synch Roy Orbison songs? Or Dennis Hopper extolling the virtues of Pabst Blue Ribbon (a movie moment that we swear is responsible for the PBR craze, yes, even 15 years later)? Or Jack Nance explaining time and again that his name is "Paul"? Few movies made after 1980 leave us with such a feeling of goodwill toward our fellow man as this 1986 David Lynch classic that made Roger Ebert so very, very mad. Cinema Classics, 332 E. 11th St. (betw. 1st & 2nd Aves.), 212-677-1027, 7, $6. [repeats Mon., Tues. & Thurs. at 8].

    Monday

    What is Small Anyway?

    This is the straight-shooting event you've been waiting for ever since you stopped showering after gym class. No feel-good quips about the size of the ship not mattering, no soothing litany of tiny-dicked porn stars?just the facts, the latest social and biological science, available resources and professional counseling options. Share the pain with other small-penised peers. You are not alone. LGBT Community Center, 208 W. 13th St. (betw. 7th & 8th Aves.), 212-620-7310, 7, $10.

    Outlaws on the Run

    As far as outlaw folk heroes go, Great Britain may have Ronnie Biggs, but Hungary has Attila Ambrus. After working odd jobs in his youth (hockey player, grave digger), Ambrus took to robbing banks in the early 90s. Before his arrest and subsequent jailbreak, he'd robbed 27, but always did so with class, speaking softly and presenting the tellers with flowers once his work was done. Journalist Julian Rubinstein takes a look at the legend that has grown around Ambrus in his forthcoming book, Ballad of the Whiskey Robber. He'll be reading from it as part of Junno's ongoing celebration of the outlaw. With Susan Choi, author of American Woman. Junno's, 64 Downing St. (betw. Varick St. & 6th Ave.), 212-627-7995, 7:30, free.

    David Bowie

    While the press has labeled Springsteen's The Rising as pop music's most intense display of Manhattan's loss, allow me to nominate someone less sentimental and, perhaps, even grander in his optimism: David Bowie. As the original alien/androgyne in New York, Bowie's played it cool since his glam touchdown: walking in Warhol's shoes, toeing the Velvet line, languorously playing the Jean Genie in an always a-go-go New York while presenting lyrics rife with low-level anxiety and nagging fear. If it weren't the "side effects of the cocaine" that made him spill things across the carpets of Station to Station and Low?his robo-disco classics?he envisioned Scary Monsters with a rocking sound and vision most dissonant.

    Bowie placed himself within an apocalyptic post-9/11 environs on 2002's Heathen (ISO/Columbia). While that record questioned the gods that betrayed Lower Manhattan with Nietzsche-ian anger and a forlorn graceful voice at one with his finest croonings, its gloomy mood and Heroes-like ambience offered mere slivers of light that demanded "A Better Future." For his latest CD, 2003's Reality, a relaxed, art-rocking Bowie casually but intelligently flits down sunshiny streets along Riverside, Battery Park and the Hudson. Though he spies "great white scars" ("New Killer Star") and women "sick with fear and cold" ("She'll Drive the Big Car") while strumming noir-ish vibraphonic rock chords, Bowie remains opulently open to the bright future-forward possibilities that everything's okay. In fact, rather than succumb to the wounded weariness that Springsteen has, Reality's dripping lounge-lizard finale, "Bring Me the Disco King," feels jazzy, dark and invigorating, as if appropriating another of Bowie's indulgent icons, Frank Sinatra.

    Perhaps, rather than bookends to Bruce's baleful soliloquies, Heathen and Reality are closer in spirit and tone to Sinatra's Trilogy, a three-record set whose centerpiece?an epic, orchestrated "New York New York"?was set in a time of strife and victory, of piss and vinegar, for the city that never sleeps. Bowie has finally become what he once promised: a Sinatra for the modern age, whose sadness and sweetness are at one with his own theatrical reality.

    Madison Square Garden, 2 Penn Plaza (32nd St.), 212-465-MSGI, 8, $51-$130.

    ?A.D. Amorosi

    Tuesday

    Downtown

    Scholar and impresario of TerrorSex Cabaret, Jeff Wengrofsky realizes that, following rent hikes and sanitization, downtown Manhattan is more a note of historical interest and less a vibrant bohemia. So he's hosted a series of panel discussions this month titled "Profiles of the Downtown Music Scene," starting with the fertile 70s and 80s and progressing to those tenacious underground elements still present today. The 1970s panel with Mykel Board, Jayne County, Dick Manitoba and Alan Vega was a hoot, but those not interested in hearing oldsters gripe might want to tune in to the final segment tonight. Party host and Lunachick Theo Kogan, promoters Abby Ehmann and Larry Tee, musicians Kid Congo Powers, Paul Wallfisch and Jack Terricloth (charismatic founder of World/Inferno Friendship Society) will discuss what's actually happening now. New School's Wollman Hall, 66 W. 12th St. (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.), 212-229-5488, 8, $10.

    Critical Xmas Unsilent Night does caroling one better. By Molly Sheridan

    I'm starting to hate Christmas, and I blame holiday muzak. Far from getting me in any kind of holiday spirit, I'm just counting the shopping days left until they pull the plug. I am not normally prone to such Scrooge-ish cynicism, and I have only a small anti-commercialist chip on my shoulder. But if I hear "Sleigh Ride" just one more time, I'm afraid of what I may do to an innocent fellow shopper.

    Before I could "accidentally" trip Santa at Macy's, help arrived in my email box. Phil Kline has scheduled his Unsilent Night, one of my favorite NYC holiday activities, for this Saturday. If you've never witnessed the event, it's like Christmas caroling, except instead of singing (sigh of relief from all those who are tone deaf in the crowd), you bring a boom box to Washington Square and Kline gives you a prerecorded tape. Everyone hits play at the same time, and all of a sudden you are standing in the middle of this beautiful, shimmering, ambient sound world. Kline then leads the group on an hour-long walk through the city streets over to Tompkins Square Park, where the piece fades out into the night. Suddenly, amid all the city chaos, it truly feels like Christmas, or Hanukkah, or the seasonal celebration of your choice.

    Kline first performed the piece in 1992 with about 40 people. He had been thinking about using moving sound sources to create a kind of Casio marching band. "A whole lot of ideas came together at once," he says. "It was a musical and a social impulse. Plus it sounded like it would be a really great party."

    As a transplant from the Midwest, Kline knew that the holidays could get lonely in New York. Unsilent Night was meant to help counteract that, and it gets bigger every year. Last year, the annual celebration attracted some 500 people who carried more than 100 boom boxes, basically creating a human stereo system several blocks long. Since the sounds you hear vary depending on where you are in the crowd, each listener's experience is unique.

    Kline released a CD recording of the piece on the Cantaloupe label a couple years ago made from a mix of several live and studio recordings. I thought the disc kind of took away the point, but it has functioned as great publicity. In addition to the NYC performance this year, Kline has been asked to lead walks in cities across the country (catch him in Philly on Dec. 19). Several European cities have asked to participate next year.

    Washington Square Park (betw. Waverly Pl. & 5th Ave.), 6:45, free.

    For those who believe winter is better spent in the great indoors, check out Orchestra 2001's all-George Crumb program inside the warm Carnegie Hall on Saturday afternoon. The Philadelphia-based ensemble is presenting the New York premiere of Unto the Hills, part of the composer's four-part American Songbooks series. Each section is tailored to a particular soloist, in this case Appalachian folk songs set for the composer's daughter, soprano Ann Crumb. If you're better acquainted with Crumb as more of a musical surrealist, folk songs might seem an odd choice, but the composer has made them his own by using "an unconventional setting that might bring out in some cases the darker side or the more fantastic side? If it changes the listener's view of the folk songs, then perhaps I've succeeded," Crumb explains.

    The concert also includes two of my favorite Crumb works?An Idyll for the Misbegotten and A Little Suite for Christmas, A.D. 1979. Two more chances to keep the evil muzak at bay.

    Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall, 154 W. 57th St. (7th Ave.), 212-247-7800, 1:30, $35.

    Contributors: Adam Bulger, CXB, Lionel Beehner, James Griffith, Jim Knipfel, Jeff Koyen, Dan Martino, Dan Migdal, Dustin Roasa, Will Sherlin and Alexander Zaitchik.