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29 Articles

Vinson Cunningham (“A Darker Presence,” p. 34) recently joined The New Yorker as a staff writer. His work has appeared in the Times Magazine and McSweeney’s. Jelani Cobb (Comment, p. 25) teaches in the journalism program at Columbia. “The Substance of Hope” is his latest book. Paul Rudnick (Shouts & Murmurs, p. 40) is the author of “It’s All Your Fault,” which was published earlier this year. Ed Caesar (“The Moscow Laundromat,” p. 42) is a British journalist. “Two Hours: The Quest to Run the Impossible Marathon” is his first book. Julie Bruck (Poem, p. 48) won the Governor General’s Award in 2012 for her poetry collection “Monkey Ranch.” J. J. Sempé (Cover) is a longtime contributor of covers and art works to the magazine. “Sempé: A Little Bit of France” is one of his…

TRUMPLAND George Saunders’s article on Donald Trump’s supporters was written in an unusual style for the magazine: fragmented, colloquial, and, at times, rambling and chaotic— a perfect representation of Trump’s fans (“Trump Days,” July 11th & 18th). This election has brought “aspiration” to the forefront of political choice. The left hopes that, by electing Clinton, the ongoing experiment called America will continue to be aspirational for other nations; Trump supporters, on the other hand, seem to aspire to be more like Trump. This constitutes aspiring to a superficial candor and to wealth that is underpinned by tasteless gluttony, and summarized perfectly by one supporter: “I love that everything in Trump’s house is gold.” Let us remember that King Midas was his own undoing. Aneesha Dharwadker Urbana-Champaign, Ill. As a subscriber who leans center-right, I…

Goings On About Town: This Week

In a teaser for Adult Swim’s “The Eric Andre Show,” the comedian of the title subjects celebrity guests to slapstick torture set to “Slim Trak.” The clip’s absurd score, by the anonymous Berlin producer DJ Paypal, part of the Teklife crew, is an electric showcase of the footwork sound, from Chicago, in which jagged vocal samples pound into cumbia drum loops like pistons in a cylinder. On Aug. 27, Paypal plays at MOMA PS1’s Warm Up. He uses a T-shirt to obscure his identity—if it gets too sweaty, he may lose the shades. ART MUSEUMS AND LIBRARIES Metropolitan Museum “Cornelia Parker: Transitional Object (PsychoBarn)” This year’s commission for the museum’s rooftop by the technically gifted, if occasionally gimmicky, British sculptor is a scaled-down version of the ramshackle house from Hitchcock’s “Psycho.” (It also pays…

Goings On About Town: This Week

Art: Fall Preview

Fall Preview THE MOST ANTICIPATED show of the season is the Met Breuer’s retrospective of the American figurative painter Kerry James Marshall. Marshall, now sixty and based in Chicago, was born in Jim Crow-era Alabama and moved, with his family, to the Watts neighborhood of L.A. in 1963. Early exposure to the civil-rights movement had a profound effect on the artist, whose paintings reboot classical genres to redress the exclusion of black subjects from history. The show’s title, “Mastry,” is lifted from Marshall’s ongoing series of comic-book-inspired works, with superheroes based on the Yoruba pantheon (opens Oct. 25). Two champions of pared-down abstraction are also in the spotlight. The painter Carmen Herrera, who turned a hundred and one in May, was born in Havana and honed her vivid, hardedged geometries in postwar…

Art: Fall Preview

Classical Music: Fall Preview

Fall Preview In a photograph taken on September 16, 1966, just before the world premiere of Barberšfs ill-fated šgAntony and Cleopatrašh.the Metropolitan Operašfs first performance in its new auditorium. the conductor, Thomas Schippers, looks out from the pit with a thousand-yard stare. The image, which the Met has placed on the inside flap of its new season calendar, could be a metaphor for the companyšfs current condition: proud of its past, yet fearful of the future. But skeptics should remember that the company, despite its financial and administrative challenges, still manages to deliver world-class performances, week after week. The Metšfs fiftiethanniversary season at Lincoln Center is inaugurated by two of its biggest stars, the soprano Nina Stemme and the conductor Simon Rattle, in Wagneršfs šgTristan und Isoldešh (Sept. 26-Oct. 27); the…

Classical Music: Fall Preview

Dance: Fall Preview

Fall Preview American ballet is finally waking up to the glaring shortage of new works by female choreographers. This fall, both of the big New York companies will feature new pieces by women— Lauren Lovette and Annabelle Lopez Ochoa, at New York City Ballet (at the Koch, Sept. 20-Oct. 16), and Jessica Lang, at American Ballet Theatre (at the Koch, Oct. 19-30). A.B.T.’s fall season is promising in other ways, too. The company is bringing back Frederick Ashton’s “Symphonic Variations,” a work of pristine beauty and Apollonian calm, created just after the Second World War. It has also imported Benjamin Millepied’s “Daphnis and Chloe,” first performed by the Paris Opera two years ago. This deft setting of Ravel’s lush score exposes a more openhearted side of Millepied, and the ballet is…

Dance: Fall Preview

The Theatre: Fall Preview

Fall Preview THE NEWS ABOUT newspapers is pretty bleak these days, so what better time to revisit the hardboiled, ink-stained, pre-clickbait era of yore? Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur were Chicago reporters before they wrote the smash hit “The Front Page,” which débuted on Broadway in 1928. The play, set in the bustling press room of a Windy City courthouse, has spawned multiple TV adaptations, films (including “His Girl Friday,” which gender-swapped one of the main characters, adding spice to the rat-a-tat repartee), and Broadway revivals. The latest, directed by Jack O’Brien, arrives at the Broadhurst Sept. 20, starring Nathan Lane, John Slattery, John Goodman, Jefferson Mays, and Sherie Rene Scott. That’s one of several high-wattage ensembles to choose from this fall. Diane Lane, Joel Grey, Tavi Gevinson, and Chuck Cooper…

The Theatre: Fall Preview

Night Life: Fall Preview

Fall Preview On “Sweater,” the emo auteur Felix Walworth, who sings and drums in Told Slant, dreads unboxing last year’s outerwear. “You got a new sweater, but I didn’t know till I saw it in a picture,” Walworth sings with a crackle, before swearing off a bomber jacket and a navy peacoat. This fall, at Silent Barn (Oct. 15), Told Slant thumps out its perfected brand of slow-rolling, heart-folding lo-fi from the June statement record “Going By,” one of many wistful autumn gigs. Will Toledo, who heads up Car Seat Headrest, lets his guitar meander for long stretches before songs take shape: hear his minute-plus intro on this year’s “Vincent,” after which he scoffs at summer tourists who descend on his college town of Williamsburg, Virginia, disturbing his own vacation. “I haven’t…

Night Life: Fall Preview

Movies: Fall Preview

Fall Preview Clint Eastwood’s interviews may tend to go off the rails, but his movies keep tightly on track. His new film, “Sully” (Sept. 9), stars Tom Hanks as Chesley Sullenberger, the airline captain who, in 2009, safely landed a passenger jet in the Hudson River. Laura Linney plays his wife; Jamey Sheridan plays the federal investigator who interrogates him. Joseph Gordon-Levitt stars in Oliver Stone’s “Snowden” (Sept. 16), as the N.S.A. whistle-blower who leaked classified information and, facing prosecution, fled to Russia. Melissa Leo costars, as the filmmaker Laura Poitras. Nate Parker directs and stars in “The Birth of a Nation” (Oct. 7), about Nat Turner, the leader of an 1831 slave rebellion in Virginia. In “Certain Women” (Oct. 14), Kelly Reichardt adapts short stories by Maile Meloy for a…

Movies: Fall Preview

Goings On About Town: Above & Beyond

Brighton Jubilee Festival Each year, more than a hundred and twenty-five thousand New Yorkers across cultures and ages descend on Coney Island for entertainment stages, kiddie rides, food stands, and a marketplace lined with local venders. The free festival, now in its fortieth year, aims to bring together residents of neighborhoods across Brooklyn, to experience Brighton’s eccentric and multigenerational Russian- American charms. (1002 Brighton Beach Ave., Brooklyn. brightonbeach.com. Aug. 28.) National Sawdust The Selkie Series, curated by the National Sawdust co-founder Natalia Schwien, invites female performers across mediums to showcase personal works. In one of its most enticing installments, the singer-songwriter Kelly Zutrau, from the critically acclaimed indie trio Wet, performs a stripped-down set of material from the band’s début album as well as unreleased songs of her own. The celebrated lyricist offers…

Goings On About Town: Above & Beyond

Tables for Two: Hao Noodles and Tea by Madame Zhu’s Kitchen

401 Sixth Ave. (212-633-8900) IN MANHATTAN, THERE are two broad varieties of Chinese restaurant: the assimilated uptown slickster, in which leg room and decipherable menus come at the cost of culturally confused cuisine, and their no-frills downtown kinsmen, who dole out hearty, oleaginous fare in riotous surroundings that could use a pump of Febreze. Consequently, the authentic, atmospheric pan-Chinese eatery might seem like a unicorn, the stuff of fantasy and forlorn foodie dreams. But now comes Hao Noodles and Tea by Madame Zhu’s Kitchen, a new arrival in the West Village, which offers Cantonese, Shanghainese, and Sichuanese staples and reinventions. Zhu Rong, a Chongqing native with a successful chain of restaurants in four Chinese cities, grew up watching her father cook but initially didn’t see herself taking up the wok. Her first…

Tables for Two: Hao Noodles and Tea by Madame Zhu’s Kitchen

Bar Tab: Pouring Ribbons

Pouring Ribbons 225 Avenue B (917-656-6788) Tucked behind an unassuming green door up a narrow staircase in Alphabet City is a carefully constructed refuge that takes its cocktails seriously. As late evening settles in, the Art Deco light fixtures dim to a pleasant yellow and the backlit bar refracts the glow through bottles of tinctures and bitters. A room full of couples in various stages of dating—from shy conversation to public petting— is an indication that, as one patron put it, the place is “really, really grownup.” The themed menu is designed collaboratively by bartenders and other staff, and approved by a governing triad of longtime bartenders and restaurant consultants. This summer’s offerings are drawn from the mythos and locales of the Silk Road. Each drink is mapped on a graph that…

Bar Tab: Pouring Ribbons

Comment: The Home Front

IN MAY, 2011, Attorney General Eric Holder invited several cast members from the HBO series “The Wire” to Washington, D.C., to help promote a Justice Department initiative called the Drug Endangered Children’s Task Force. “The Wire,” which aired for five seasons and was acclaimed for its nuanced portrayal of the war on drugs, was a favorite of both Holder and President Obama. Holder jokingly ordered the show’s creators, David Simon and Ed Burns, to produce a sixth season. “I have a lot of power,” he said. “The Attorney General’s kind remarks are noted and appreciated,” Simon told a reporter. “We are prepared to go to work on Season 6 of ’The Wire’ if the Department of Justice is equally ready to reconsider and address its continuing prosecution of our misguided,…

Comment: The Home Front

Side Hustle: Kindred Spirits

On a hot Saturday afternoon, the actor and rapper Riz Ahmed (a.k.a. Riz MC) and the rapper Heems (real name Himanshu Suri) headed to the Jackson Diner, an Indian buffet-style restaurant, in Queens. The pair had just finished filming two music videos in Flushing for their upcoming début album, “Cashmere.” For one of the videos, they’d invited more than a hundred people from the neighborhood to serve as extras. “It was so dope—Sikhs, Hindus, Muslims,” Ahmed said. A few years ago, Ahmed, who is British- Pakistani, and Heems, who is Indian- American, decided to combine their musical talents and form a duo called Swet Shop Boys. They recorded “Cashmere” in five days, in Ahmed’s apartment in London. The two originally met online, when Heems praised Ahmed on Twitter for his song…

Side Hustle: Kindred Spirits

Baedeker 2.0: Tourist Traps

Every two years, the lead-up to the Olympics is marked by fears that outside forces will disrupt the Games (human-rights protests in China, stray dogs in Sochi), and every two years things usually go just fine, as they mostly did in Rio, at least until Ryan Lochte and three other American swimmers decided to celebrate the end of their Olympic competition with a night of revelry. “The whole story reflects how sensitive Brazilians are to the way their culture is viewed,” Seth Kugel, a New York-based travel writer who lived in Brazil for several years, said last week. Initially, when Lochte reported that the swimmers had been robbed at gunpoint, Brazilians lamented that the world’s attention was focussed on Rio’s dangerous side; when a police investigation found that the swimmers…

Baedeker 2.0: Tourist Traps

The Lyrical Press: Trump Terzanelle

In the Preface to the 1802 edition of “Lyrical Ballads,” William Wordsworth wrote, “All good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.” By this standard—and ignoring Wordsworth’s qualifier that those feelings be “recollected in tranquillity”— Donald Trump might claim poet status. Spoken word, of course. Avoiding strict metre, the Republican Presidential nominee leans on simple poetic devices. Epistrophe could be heard at the end of his R.N.C. acceptance speech: “We will make America strong again. We will make America proud again. We will make America safe again.” And so on. But Trump’s greatest contribution to the poetic arts is undoubtedly as muse. Since last summer, some two thousand user-generated poems about Trump have appeared on the sevenyear- old Web site Hello Poetry, which attracts more than eight hundred thousand readers…

The Lyrical Press: Trump Terzanelle

The Pictures: Out of Character

Ben Foster stood by the entrance to the Diane Arbus exhibition at the Met Breuer. “Are you hip to how it works?” the actor asked. “There’s no a grove of gray columns, each displaying one of Arbus’s early photographs. Foster, slight and serious, wearing a black T-shirt, chinos, and work boots, paused before “Wax museum axe murderer, Coney Island, N.Y. 1959,” his expression veiled by his end-times beard. He cricked his neck, then shivered like a dog emerging from a cold pond. A few columns on, he laughed softly, surprised to encounter “Child with a toy hand grenade in Central Park, N.Y.C. 1962.” He studied the famous image—a grimacing boy, his hands curled in clownish distress. “This one was my door into her,” he said. “It makes you feel less…

The Pictures: Out of Character

American Chronicles: A Darker Presence

A few years ago, Rex Ellis, the associate director of curatorial affairs for the National Museum of African American History and Culture, which will open in September on the Mall in Washington, D.C., made a phone call. Ellis is a natural storyteller, with a voice that mixes congestion and control in a manner reminiscent of Jesse Jackson’s. He’d clearly told the story of the call before, but when I spoke with him this past spring, in his office on an upper floor of the glassy Capital Gallery Building, on Maryland Avenue, he repeated it for me with all the shock and wonder that it warranted. “A phone call,” he began. “To a young lady by the name of Wendy Porter.” She had e-mailed him, saying that she had Nat Turner’s Bible.…

American Chronicles: A Darker Presence

Shouts & Murmurs: Melania’s Diary

DEAR DIARY: It didn’t work. Maybe I should have plagiarized all of Michelle Obama’s Convention speech, or maybe I should have just repeated the words “I love Hillary” over and over again, but now I’m feeling doomed. I wish I were back in Slovenia, modelling polyester cardigans and telling our goat, “Someday, I will sail to America and marry a rich, handsome man.” I should have listened when the cow, who was eavesdropping, said, “Bloomberg.” Life is strange. For so many years, I assumed that when Donald would tell me that he wanted to be President he was just dreaming, like when he said that he wanted to be a real boy. But he kept saying it, even after Ivanka swatted him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. As a stepmom, I…

Shouts & Murmurs: Melania’s Diary

A Reporter at Large: The Moscow Laundromat

ALMOST EVERY WEEKDAY between the fall of 2011 and early 2015, a Russian broker named Igor Volkov called the equities desk of Deutsche Bank’s Moscow headquarters. Volkov would speak to a sales trader—often, a young woman named Dina Maksutova—and ask her to place two trades simultaneously. In one, he would use Russian rubles to buy a blue-chip Russian stock, such as Lukoil, for a Russian company that he represented. Usually, the order was for about ten million dollars’ worth of the stock. In the second trade, Volkov— acting on behalf of a different company, which typically was registered in an off shore territory, such as the British Virgin Islands—would sell the same Russian stock, in the same quantity, in London, in exchange for dollars, pounds, or euros. Both the Russian…

A Reporter at Large: The Moscow Laundromat

Poem: Blue Heron, Walking

Not one of Mr. Balanchine’s soloists had feet this articulate,the long bones explicitly spread, then retracted, even morefinely detailed than Leonardo’s plans for his flying machines.And all this for a stroll, a secondary function, not the greatdramatic spread and shadow of those pterodactyl wings.This walking seems determined less by bird volition orcalculations of the small yellow eye than by an accidentof breeze, pushing the bird on a diagonal, the great feet executingtheir tendus and lifts in the slowest of increments, hesitationmade exquisitely dimensional, as if the feet thought themselvesthrough each minute contribution to propulsion, these outsizedapprehenders of grasses and stone, snatchers of mouse and vole,these mindless magnificents that any time now will trailtheir risen bird like useless bits of leather. Don’t show meyour soul, Balanchine used to say, I want…

Annals of Dining: The Country Restaurant

THE FIRST TIME Jeffrey Merrihue came across the name Damon Baehrel, he was amazed that he hadn’t heard of him. “I didn’t understand how the secret had been kept,” Merrihue said recently. “The people I go around with, it’s hard for us to find something that is genuinely unique and new.” The people Merrihue goes around with are gastronomes, the trophy hunters of haute cuisine, the kind who travel the world to dine at famous, or famously obscure, restaurants. After a trip to Cape Town this spring, to a restaurant called the Test Kitchen, Merrihue, who lives in London and produces promotional videos for restaurants, became, he says, the second person to have eaten at every restaurant on the so-called World’s 50 Best list. He’s also been to eighty of…

Annals of Dining: The Country Restaurant

Profiles: The Earth Mover

I’m trying to tell you the story of my strange life,” the artist Michael Heizer said to me. “I’m not sure how much I want everyone to know, but it’s all going to come out.” It was March in New York, a cold, long-shadowed afternoon, and Heizer, who has spent much of the past half century on a remote ranch in Nevada, working on “City,” a mile-and-a-halflong sculpture that almost no one has seen, had finished an omelette and a tarte tatin at Balthazar. With his dealer, Kara Vander Weg, of the Gagosian gallery, he shuffled down Spring Street toward Greene, where he’d been renting a loft since the fall. He is seventy-one, and walking pains him. At a crosswalk, Heizer—ravaged, needy, fierce, suspicious, witty, loyal, sly, and pure—leaned against a…

Profiles: The Earth Mover

Fiction: Gender Studies

NELL AND HENRY always said that they would wait until marriage was legal for everyone in America, and now this is the case—it’s August, 2015—but earlier in the week Henry eloped with his graduate student Bridget. Bridget is twentythree, moderately but not dramatically attractive (one of the few non- stereotypical aspects of the situation, Nell thinks, is Bridget’s lack of dramatic attractiveness), and Henry and Bridget had been dating for six months. They began having an affair last winter, when Henry and Nell were still together, then in April Henry moved out of the house that he and Nell own and directly into Bridget’s apartment. Nell and Henry had been a couple for eleven years. In the shuttle between the Kansas City airport and the hotel where Nell’s weekend meetings will…

Fiction: Gender Studies

His sentences all ended with the word Austin,a place I’d never seen,so I packed a duffelbag,overwatered the garden, and set out on foot,the way many of the greats in my family had done,among other rascally things.The flutter of engines enchanted me.Most awkward moment:Out of cash,bartering my eyelashes.Thank you, bad-shot farmers, for all the pecans.Thank you, hounds, for losing interest.Some nights I would wake to a sweet melody grindinglike an ice-cream summons and stumble,half-awake, trying to answer the phone in a forest.So what if I drooled into rock receivers?Someone needed to arrive firstand put an ear to the ground.Someone needed to find a loft with flexible floors.Who better to memorize the acoustics of local venues,know which houses were haunted,which gutters led somewhere?I tumbled after the weeds,eager to turn on the A.C.and…

Books: Kill Box

PRISONS ARE THE bad conscience of the liberal imagination, a truth that tends to be most obvious to their most interested observers. Once, I got a letter from a death-row inmate in Texas, complaining that, in writing about incarceration, I had been insufficiently attentive to the French historian and theorist Michel Foucault. My correspondent seemed intimately familiar with Foucault’s argument that prisons are where the liberal state’s claim to superior humanity is at its most vulnerable. The eighteenth century’s pretensions to Enlightenment ended at the Tyburn scaffold, where wretches were publicly hanged for stealing a purse. The twentieth century’s pretensions to humanity end in mass incarceration and solitary confinement, where men are kept alive for years and subjected to procedural niceties while the state waits for the morning when it…

Books: Kill Box

Books: Briefly Noted

The Lonely City, by Olivia Laing (Picador). Part memoir, part cultural history of New York, this searching book examines how loneliness can offer “richness and value.” For Laing, who moved to New York from London for a relationship that then foundered, the city epitomizes solitude. She juxtaposes her experiences with discussions of Edward Hopper, Andy Warhol, Henry Darger, and David Wojnarowicz—artists for whom isolation was a spur to creativity. Hopper’s urban scenes, she notes, evoke “one of the central experiences of being lonely: the way a feeling of separation, of being walled off or penned in, combines with a sense of near-unbearable exposure.” Analyzing the politics of her subject (social stigmas create new kinds of isolation), Laing makes a subtle case that loneliness, while inherently personal, is also collective. Buying a…

Books: Briefly Noted

Pop Music: Old Friends

EARLIER THIS MONTH, Dinosaur Jr. celebrated the release of its eleventh album, “Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not,” by playing a show at Rough Trade, a small club tucked inside a record store in Brooklyn. J Mascis, Lou Barlow, and Murph formed the band in Amherst, Massachusetts, in 1984, united by an interest in slowing down the all-out assault of speed metal and hardcore punk, and then speeding it back up a little bit. Mascis’s aggressively lackadaisical singing made early Dinosaur Jr. songs both very loud and very timid. The group’s first three albums, before Mascis fired Barlow from the band, in 1989, anticipated the alternative-rock boom of the nineties. After the split, Dinosaur Jr. was signed to a major label and enjoyed its first national hits, while Barlow…

Pop Music: Old Friends

The Current Cinema: Net Results

TO MAKE A documentary about the Internet requires nerve. To do so when you can hardly be bothered with a cell phone, however, takes both innocence and bravado, plus a pinch of madness. All of which means that Werner Herzog, now aged seventy-three, is right for the job, and the result is “Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World.” The movie is divided into ten parts, none of which could be mistaken for a commandment; Herzog’s documentaries have always been fired more by marvelling, and by an explorer’s ache to learn, than by any pedagogic urge to tell. If he were struck color-blind tomorrow, he would instantly embark on a film about Matisse. The first section, entitled “The Early Days,” lures us to the birthplace of the Internet, in a…

The Current Cinema: Net Results

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