Winding through the tourist scattered streets of Málaga on a Sunday afternoon, sun beating down on me, I headed to El Centre de Pompidou, a smaller branch of the world famous contemporary art gallery in Paris. Making my way through the gallery, I stumbled across many striking exhibits, such as ‘Self Portraits’ which featured feminist icon Frida Kahlo’s The Frame (1938), as well as a sincerely thought provoking exhibit, ‘The Man Without A Face’. However, it was the gallery’s segment for ‘The Political Body’ that struck my attention most. This is where I discovered Sigalit Landau, an incredible Israeli female artist who uses video, sculpting, installation and her own body to create political art. Her art was astounding, but her message was even better.
From the Studio Theatre in Washington, Tom Stoppard’s The Hard Problem tackles classic thorny debates of philosophy, psychology, and neuroscience with a fresh perspective and ample wit. Directed by Matt Torney, the play is a sterling example of the signature style we have come to expect from Stoppard—a script that doesn’t shy from controversy or high-brow intellect. The Hard Problem is an elegant exploration of the complicated beliefs surrounding consciousness, faith in the divine, and how we endeavor to reconcile the unexplained.
This weekend L & Q welcomed in the New Year with a romantic jaunt to la belle Paris. From the time our plane landed to the time we left French soil again, our trip totalled almost exactly 48 hours. In that time we not only saw all the major tourist landmarks, but also absorbed some local culture and authentic Parisian charm. Here is how we did Paris in a weekend.
God wasn’t 2016 rubbish? In the next few weeks, Boshemia will almost definitely be musing over how god awful the last year was, but today we’re going to be looking at one of the prevailing themes of the year: Toxic Masculinity. In a year of Trump asserting his masculinity in dangerous ways over everything he seemed to cross, and then somehow getting awarded for it; a year of Brexit and the following fight for the Prime Minister spot being nothing more than a dick measuring contest, only for the cursed position to go for a woman, almost certainly setting her up for failure. In a year of rape accusations, police shootings, terrorist attacks (good god the year’s even worse when you write it all down!), we coincidentally lost three icons of masculinity and gender subversion. On December 25th, aged 53, George Michael joined Prince and David Bowie in the pantheon of people destroyed by 2016; the trifecta of 80s queer icons has gone, politicians are swiftly moonwalking away from identity politics, and the world is basking in the stench of toxic masculinity. Merry Christmas.
As a pop culture junkie, I thought I may as well get some articles out of this crippling addiction. In Q’s Queue, we’ll be having a look at some of the hits, hidden gems and horrors found on my Streaming list, all through a feminist lens. Today’s venture:Parks and Recreation.
Are you upset with the state of politics right now? Brexit, Trump, Marine Le Pen. It just seems like the bad guys always win, and that everyone in politics is horrible. If you want to affirm that view, yeah you could go watch The Thick of It, or Veep, but today we’re going to be talking about one of the nicest shows of recent memory: Parks & Recreation.
On the day of the results I was having a pretty rubbish time; Trump had been elected, we had a really shit lecture, I was physically exhausted from election-related-anxiety. Everything about me that day screamed, “not having it.” At about midnight when I had worked myself up into a ball of anger and despair, I realised that I needed to chill, if only so that I could eventually get some sleep, so I immediately turned to Parks and Recreation.
Remember how in our last joint post, I said that I’d be making a more conscious effort to not consume media by dickheads? Yeah sorry, today we’re going to be talking about Rosemary’s Baby, directed by certified rapist Roman Polanski. Sorry guys. Spoilers ahoy! (But it was released in 1968 and is one of the most famous movies ever. Get with it.)
Rosemary’s Baby is one of the most chilling horror movies of the 20th Century. Mia Farrow excels as Rosemary, a young woman who moves into a swish New York apartment with her husband Guy (John Cassavetes). As nice as the apartment is, their new neighbours are a little too kooky for Rosemary to deal with. Luckily, Guy gets on with them wonderfully, and what ensues is a classic boy-gets-the-girl-impregnated-by-the-devil-to-further-his-acting-career-on-the-advice-of-Satanists. Classic. The majority of the movie is deals with Rosemary’s increasingly fragile state and sense of isolation as she looses control of this thing that’s happening to her own body.