“We live in a terrible century of banalization and trivialization, of repetitious things; all our world is surrounded by…bombastic things. And we the humans like to experience something unique, once in a lifetime, if never again. All our works have this quality that if you miss them, you will never see them.”
Minna Resnick is a local artist who has been printmaking and drawing for over 30 years. She was the recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship in 1980, one of many other honors she has received throughout her career. Her work is currently displayed at more than 50 public and private collections, both nationally and abroad. She has taught and lectured at many colleges across the nation, and was even an art instructor at Cornell for a few semesters.
At first glace, Merrill Shatzman’s work seems to convey some sort of message, carrying traces of symbols and patterns that appear to be jumping off the page, just waiting to be decoded. Upon closer inspection, however, it becomes clear that any message she attempts to convey is infinitely multi-faceted, as increasingly more layers of etchings and connections reveal themselves. In a statement, she says her work “… questions and examines the ‘universal language’ created by signs, symbols and pre-imagined images … us[ing] surroundings as both an idea and an artifact.” She describes her muse as graphic communication, markings and forms that have the ability to convey meanings through simple rearrangements and displacements of lines and curves.
Thieves Like Us, a Swedish-American band currently “exiled in France,” as their MySpace page proudly proclaims, has been appositely compared to the likes of Hot Chip, The Black Ghosts and Crystal Castles. A freshly electro-pop, beat-savvy threesome, the band exudes an effortless cool, infiltrating your brain with breathily-uttered effervescent sounds.
At some point in the midst of last semester’s finals heyday, fifth-year architecture majors Andre Abrahamian and Sheyen Ikeda started to ask themselves if their studio projects, visually represented and described in architectural standards and building form conventions, could take on other meanings and interpretations. They had spent significant amounts of time staring at computer screens and condensing their concepts into three-dimensional, experiential forms and spaces in virtual and physical models — yet outside of models, these constructions could only take two-dimensional drawing and rendered forms. Even in photographs, spaces become flattened and performativity limited and up to the interpretation of the viewer.
Architecture of Disbelief may conjure images of futuristic constructions in Dubai, buildings of fantastic geometry at the forefront of innovation in commercial architecture. Yet the topics discussed at the three-day architecture symposium this past weekend, and related works on display in Hartell Gallery, do not limit themselves to one category; rather, they present work that engages a range of influences, methods and implications. This work pushes beyond the normative practice of simply creating new structures in architecture, presenting unique design processes whose resultant forms and spaces can begin to have interesting and potentially significant impacts on the people and societies they interact with.
They’re a little Ramones, a bit of the Cure and a touch of the Velvet Underground. And though their most famous album Marquee Moon was released well before any of us were even a thought, their affect on music inducted a change in the approach to instrumentation that continues to influence bands today (see: Interpol, Gang of Four, Ima Robot, French Kicks).
The band was formed in 1973 by Tom Verlaine, an accomplished guitarist so inspired by Brian Jones’ innovation on the Rolling Stones’ 19th Nervous Breakdown that he took up the guitar himself. He began to experiment and develop a style of his own, a sound characterized by softly crooning rifts and shifting scales.
The word “pangaea” evokes visions of merging continents and a conglomeration of countries combined to form one solitary land mass. The similarly named restaurant (minus the second “a”), nestled within Ithaca’s residential Northside neighborhood, embraces this same concept — in plate form.
The dishes at Pangea incorporate tastes and aromas that draw from every corner of the Earth, from Atlantis to Shangri-La, Babylon to El Dorado; you can find a multitude of flavors which transport your taste buds on a whirlwind rush around the globe. The constantly evolving menu boasts appetizers like mushroom fricassee and grilled squid salad, and entrées include everything from a tamarind-glazed quail to “Poseidon’s mussels.”
“Music, music and more music imploding inside your brain.” Gov’t Mule doesn’t joke around when it comes to describing their sound. Fortunately, you’ll have the chance to experience this fantastical sensation Saturday night, when the State Theatre presents two loud — even earsplitting — live musical acts to the stage.
Don’t let the name fool you — though these Pornographers are here to entertain, they typically require more money to put on their show than your average pornographers. No, we are not talking sleazy strippers and porn stars; we are talking feel-good, indie rock musicians.