Though it seems contrarian, we both ordered beer when we went to the City Winery last night. Despite the name, the primary attraction at the City Winery is not wine. It's musicians, usually folk-rock or singer-songwriter types.
Last night, however, the City Winery sprouted a dance floor, welcomed a drumming troupe, a Balkan band, and a Middle-Eastern-surf-rock band for a "warm gathering," as one of the bandleaders said.
"We need to devote all of the abandoned places in the city to gatherings like this one," he said, and he was right. People of diverse ethnicities, national origins, languages, clapping styles (on the 1 and the 3, the 2 and the 4, or on the 1, the 'and' of 2, and the 4), and dancing styles came together along long tables for food and wine (or in our case, beer), getting up to dance as the mood struck.
The troupe of drummers punctuated the acts, the surf-rock group (featuring an oud, a clarinet, a tricked-out Middle-Eastern drum set, an electric bass, and an electric guitar run through some classic reverb pedals) played for a traditional dancer, but Chicago's own Black Bear Combo got us all out on the dance floor.
We also got out on the dance floor because we saw one of our co-op friends, and one of our housemates. They practice yoga and capoiera respectively, so we weren't incredibly surprised to see them dancing. We... well, people have learned that Heather and I don't have a square, run-of-the-mill social life, so they weren't really surprised to see us either.
We didn't stay too late, but we did join the dancing circle as the band stepped off the stage and, in traditional balkan-band fashion, stood in the middle of all of us, playing as we danced and clapped along.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
Saturday, January 5, 2013
More Coffee Stuff
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| Photo Courtesy of the New York Times. |
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Life of Pi: The Movie
There were definitely some things that I liked about Ang Lee's recent adaptation of Yann Martel's Booker-Prize-winning novel, but they were overwhelmed by the movie's over-reliance on computer-generated images.
The early scenes of Pi's childhood in Pondicherry were the most coherent. The schoolroom scenes in particular set the magical-realist tone that allows both the book and the movie to do what it is that they do, and the scenes of Pi's religious education glowed with color and life.
That said, once at sea, the movie falls victim to an unfortunate technological quandary: The CGI isn't good enough. The animals in the zoo are believable; seeing animals in a cage allows us to overcome our disbelief. At sea, however, out of their narrative element, the zoo animals fall apart. The zebra sliding around with rubbery legs might match the book's description, and might even look like a real zebra sliding on a ship's deck. But actual verisimilitude is not CGI's central issue. We need to be allowed to suspend our disbelief. Showing unbelievable images (zebra on a ship's deck, tiger in a lifeboat, etc.) places CGI in jeopardy, and Life of Pi's CGI is not up the challenge.
The tiger's face is believable enough, but as soon as the camera pulls back, the overly-lifelike fur and the too-lithe legs betray the image. I am not trying to pick nits here; were this problem limited to a few scenes, it would not sink the movie. Since this movie relies upon the believability of the unbelievable image, since most of its running time involves the CGI tiger, it cannot succeed.
Interestingly enough, this throws the movie into the same role as Pi's narrative within the film: We, like the Yann Martel character in the apartment scenes, cannot believe the story we are being told. Had this been the filmmakers' intent, this movie would have been unbelievably interesting. Sadly, that movie is not what I saw in the theater.
The early scenes of Pi's childhood in Pondicherry were the most coherent. The schoolroom scenes in particular set the magical-realist tone that allows both the book and the movie to do what it is that they do, and the scenes of Pi's religious education glowed with color and life.
That said, once at sea, the movie falls victim to an unfortunate technological quandary: The CGI isn't good enough. The animals in the zoo are believable; seeing animals in a cage allows us to overcome our disbelief. At sea, however, out of their narrative element, the zoo animals fall apart. The zebra sliding around with rubbery legs might match the book's description, and might even look like a real zebra sliding on a ship's deck. But actual verisimilitude is not CGI's central issue. We need to be allowed to suspend our disbelief. Showing unbelievable images (zebra on a ship's deck, tiger in a lifeboat, etc.) places CGI in jeopardy, and Life of Pi's CGI is not up the challenge.
The tiger's face is believable enough, but as soon as the camera pulls back, the overly-lifelike fur and the too-lithe legs betray the image. I am not trying to pick nits here; were this problem limited to a few scenes, it would not sink the movie. Since this movie relies upon the believability of the unbelievable image, since most of its running time involves the CGI tiger, it cannot succeed.
Interestingly enough, this throws the movie into the same role as Pi's narrative within the film: We, like the Yann Martel character in the apartment scenes, cannot believe the story we are being told. Had this been the filmmakers' intent, this movie would have been unbelievably interesting. Sadly, that movie is not what I saw in the theater.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Twelve Days of Co-op Christmas
Last Saturday, we had a Haymarket House Christmas party, complete
with secret Santa gifts and carol-singing around the tree. One of
our housemates suggested that we compose our own "Twelve Days of
Christmas." There were twelve of us, so we went around, composing verses
as we sang. What we came up with sheds some light on co-op living:
Day 1: A blender that doesn't break down
Since there are thirteen of us living in this house, and most of us like smoothies, blenders get heavy use, and break fairly often. Our current blender has a five-year warranty, and looks pretty industrial. We're hoping it lasts a year.
Day 2: Two legal egresses
Our house was recently (right before Heather and I moved in) renovated to comply with city code, much of which has to do with fire safety and escape routes.
Day 3: Three empty cook days
Again, there are thirteen of us. Since we each cook twice per month, this means that some days, there is no one scheduled to cook dinner.
Day 4: Four elemental bathrooms
There are four bathrooms in the house, each one named for an Aristotelian element (there is also a mysterious fifth "Heart Bathroom")
Day 5: Five-week-old seitan
Seitan is a wheat-based meat substitute. It is easiest to make in large batches, when it can then be used for meals. This bulk process means that sometimes the seitan gets real old.
Day 6: Six make-up chores
When a co-op member doesn't get their chore done on time, they have to do a make-up chore in addition to the chore that they neglected. No one ever racks up six at once, as far as I know.
Day 7: Seven awkward silences
With so many people around the dinner table, conversations inevitably split apart and recombine in interesting patterns, sometimes resulting in everyone in silence at the same time.
Day 8: Eight alarms alarming
With the renovations, a state-of-the-art fire alarm system was installed. What that means is that, if one alarm is triggered, the whole floor, then the whole building is triggered with blaring alarms. Sometimes, even when the situation is under control, the system continues to sound. Eight is not a stretch.
Day 9: Nine bakers baking
Lots of people in the house like to bake. All stereotypes of co-ops to the contrary, "bake" is not a euphemism for marijuana use in this lyric. It actually refers to cookies, cakes, etc.
Day 10: Ten kinds of beans
Pinto, Garbanzo, Black, Red, White, Green, Kidney, Navy, Coffee, and the dog named Bean who used to live here. Beans are important when you aren't eating meat.
Day 11: Eleven socialists protesting
We live in a house named for one of the most famous workers'-rights happenings in U.S. history. And one of our housemates is a community organizer.
Day 12: Twelves rooms named for spices
Each bedroom is, in fact, named for a different cooking spice. Heather and I live in Crushed Red Pepper.
Day 1: A blender that doesn't break down
Since there are thirteen of us living in this house, and most of us like smoothies, blenders get heavy use, and break fairly often. Our current blender has a five-year warranty, and looks pretty industrial. We're hoping it lasts a year.
Day 2: Two legal egresses
Our house was recently (right before Heather and I moved in) renovated to comply with city code, much of which has to do with fire safety and escape routes.
Day 3: Three empty cook days
Again, there are thirteen of us. Since we each cook twice per month, this means that some days, there is no one scheduled to cook dinner.
Day 4: Four elemental bathrooms
There are four bathrooms in the house, each one named for an Aristotelian element (there is also a mysterious fifth "Heart Bathroom")
Day 5: Five-week-old seitan
Seitan is a wheat-based meat substitute. It is easiest to make in large batches, when it can then be used for meals. This bulk process means that sometimes the seitan gets real old.
Day 6: Six make-up chores
When a co-op member doesn't get their chore done on time, they have to do a make-up chore in addition to the chore that they neglected. No one ever racks up six at once, as far as I know.
Day 7: Seven awkward silences
With so many people around the dinner table, conversations inevitably split apart and recombine in interesting patterns, sometimes resulting in everyone in silence at the same time.
Day 8: Eight alarms alarming
With the renovations, a state-of-the-art fire alarm system was installed. What that means is that, if one alarm is triggered, the whole floor, then the whole building is triggered with blaring alarms. Sometimes, even when the situation is under control, the system continues to sound. Eight is not a stretch.
Day 9: Nine bakers baking
Lots of people in the house like to bake. All stereotypes of co-ops to the contrary, "bake" is not a euphemism for marijuana use in this lyric. It actually refers to cookies, cakes, etc.
Day 10: Ten kinds of beans
Pinto, Garbanzo, Black, Red, White, Green, Kidney, Navy, Coffee, and the dog named Bean who used to live here. Beans are important when you aren't eating meat.
Day 11: Eleven socialists protesting
We live in a house named for one of the most famous workers'-rights happenings in U.S. history. And one of our housemates is a community organizer.
Day 12: Twelves rooms named for spices
Each bedroom is, in fact, named for a different cooking spice. Heather and I live in Crushed Red Pepper.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Last night, we were walking through the park near our house. I had my bike with me, rolling at my side. One of our neighbors was walking towards us with his dog. The dog leaned back and barked at us, neither threatening nor welcoming us. We looked at each other. The neighbor looked at us, guiding his dog off of the sidewalk to let us pass. "He's afraid of bicycles," he said.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Too much coffee?
I had a dream that my hand grinder got water inside it, which was terrible, because in my dream it had high-carbon steel burrs, and they rust almost immediately when they get wet. So I was really mad, but when I took it apart, it had porcelain burrs, so it was all right.
Then, later in the dream, I was at a coffee shop where they only served Sumatran coffees, and I had decided that I didn't like Sumatran coffees, and I didn't know what to do.
Then, later in the dream, I was at a coffee shop where they only served Sumatran coffees, and I had decided that I didn't like Sumatran coffees, and I didn't know what to do.
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