This townhouse feels more like an old-world NYC mansion, and at $11 million, you wouldn’t blink at the price in Manhattan, but for a Brooklyn townhouse, it’s expensive. But once you look at it, it might seem like a 2016 bargain (it will certainly seem a 2036 deal) It’s HUGE. Spread out over 7,000 square feet of original details and perfectly situated on Prospect Park West, with views of Litchfield Villa. It’s has been owned by the same family for a century (I once owned a Clinton Hill brownstone with a friend as only the 4th owners since 1869 and I thought THAT was unusual.) It’s recently had a gut renovation, according to the listing it has,
“just undergone a total, architecturally curated custom renovation blending painstakingly preserved original detail with superb modern craftsmanship and design.”
Nice job. Besides being on the park, it’s got a ton of outdoor space, a full-floor master suite with lots of closet space (not the case in the brownstones originally) a giant parlor floor, chef’s kitchen, and 1,500 square foot cellar ready to be turned into your own private gym, screening room, wine cellar, or office. Kinda pricey, kinda perfect.
(via NY Curbed)
SO modest by today’s Hollywood mega-mansion standards, Rock Hudson’s former Studio City bachelor pad is just 1,008 square feet with 1 bedroom and one bath. It’s nestled into a 14,000-square-foot lot with a long, climbing driveway. The house was designed by Ralph Bowerman, with walls of glass offer views of the canyon and the grounds, and a pool with multiple outdoor “living rooms”. You need that outdoor space as it’s not really big enough for anyone BUT a bachelor (confirmed or otherwise) but it is nearly perfect. Price; a cool million. THE perfect hook-up pad for a 2016 closeted actor…?
(T/Y Tad; via Variety)
In the spring of 1966, photographer Larry Fink was assigned a shoot for a literary magazine called East Side Review. It was edited by a man named Shepard Sherbell.
“The story was about Andy. In 1966, everything was about Andy.”
According to New York magazine;
Over the course of several days, Fink shot the group — Warhol and Ingrid Superstar, Lou Reed and John Cale, Edie Sedgwick and Gerard Malanga(Warhol’s collaborator and right-hand man) — mostly on the Lower East Side. They were styled (Sedgwick in a lace scarf and polka-dot dress, Ingrid Superstar in heavy earrings and a gauzy white head scarf) by a woman named Khadejha McCall, a friend of Fink’s who sold African fabric on St. Marks Place. Soon after, the East Side Review shuttered when Sherbell ran out of money, before the shoot was ever published.
“It was a larky shoot,” says Fink of the photos. “Spontaneous.”
One image depicts Warhol, Malanga, and Ingrid Superstar posing solemnly alongside a butcher soaked in blood, with Malanga’s hand resting on a heap of disassembled cattle.
“We bumped into the meat guy and asked if we could shoot — he said, ‘Shit, yeah, bring them in. Fuck it — let’s eat some steak.’”
Another shot — in which Malanga and Warhol stand coolly behind a group of tussling schoolyard children — was more conceptual.
“In a way,” says Fink, “these guys represented for me not avant-garde but really arrière-garde. They were far behind the black revolution. So in the schoolyard, I thought I’d have the kids overthrow them. I told Andy and Gerard to walk around in fashion-y poses, and I yelled for the children to attack them. If there had been 150,000 kids, it would have been sort of like Battleship Potemkin, but there wasn’t — there were only 15. So my grand scheme of revolution was miniaturized. But still: I was pulling a fast one on them, in a way. And Andy never forgot me after that.”
In the 50 intervening years, Fink never realized that the photos hadn’t been released.
“I was high all the time back then. And I wasn’t a careerist. So I didn’t think I needed to get them published. Then this year they turn up. And everybody goes: ‘Well, look at this shit.’ ”
The series will be published by Damiani in the winter of 2017.
(Photos, Larry Fink; via New York Magazine)
Julien’s Auctions’s Music Icons sale is offering all sorts of goodies. Elvis Presley’s empty prescription bottles are right up my collecting alley (I have a bounced check from Courtney Love!) But what's more 80s than the embellished cropped tux jacket Madonna (& Rosanna Arquette) wore in Desperately Seeking Susan? And its $80-100,000 estimate seems perfectly reasonable if your last name is Ciccone or Winfrey.
I was driving upstate the other day and a Jason Mraz song came on the radio and I thought of my buddy and wondered how was doing lately. He got married recently and has been taking it easy on his avocado farm outside San Diego. He just posted this on Facebook, so I thought I’d share his words of wisdom…
“As I got into my car to drive downtown on Saturday, a voice in my head started to offer me suggestions to stay home. It was overcast. My wife had a cold. I had things to do. Work to be done. A garage to clean. Could I too pretend I had a cold? All of it was fear talking. And I knew I shouldn’t listen. So I didn’t. I started the car and cranked up the stereo, listening to Billy Joel songs all the way to his sold-out concert at Petco Park, where I had been invited by Billy and his band to join in for a song. The invite in itself is surreal, never mind actually going through with it.
Throughout my relatively short career, invites of this caliber have happened. I never get used to it. Fear was telling me to stay home; that I might fail. But the feeling in my chest knows it’s better to live past your edge. Discomfort doesn’t mean danger. So I went. I walked onto the stage, twice. Once for soundcheck and again for the live show. And like I said, it’s surreal. It’s surreal just to see one of your idols. And even more so when your musical path intersects with theirs. I don’t know the cause of it, but it’s at those intersections where my fear-headedness turns on as if to alert me something is wrong. It’s like a fear of being found-out. Like I cheated my way into the mainstream. For example, I never went to my piano lessons as a kid. I rode around the neighborhood on a classic Yamaha scooter instead. I never learned to read music. I just made stuff up. And I simply mimicked the path of many of my idols and mentors to be where I am. I moved to California. Played a lot of shows. Built up a fanbase around original music. Just went for it. And quite surprisingly it worked.
The secret to success I guess is to not know the formula and just be yourself. Allow your culmination of life experiences and intuitions to express through you in your art. The result will be yours and yours alone. And you’ll really only have to deal with one critic: Your fear.
The concert on Saturday was a blast. I watched the whole thing from the crowd. Midway through I danced and listened to ‘My Life’ in a new way; a song about taking a chance on a dream out west and just going for it.
‘I don’t care what you say anymore – this is my life
Go ahead with your own life – leave me alone’
My Life – Billy Joel
Backstage I got to formally meet the man and spend a moment talking about motorcycles and scooters. Onstage Billy Joel is as relaxed as he is offstage. He has a great rapport with an audience of 41,000, as if he’s in a small club. Every song from his catalogue of hits is familiar, accessible, and full of great hooks. I was honored to alternate verses on ‘You May Be Right.’ It wouldn’t have been my first choice for a duet, but I was just happy to be let in to the rock’n’roll party and score another victory against fear.“
What he said.
If you remember back in March, a tombstone with Donald Trump's name and the words,
“Made America Hate Again”
appeared overnight in NYC in Central Park’s Sheep Meadow –and just as suddenly, it was removed. Because it could be considered a threat on the candidate’s life, the Secret Service and officers with the NYPD‘s counterterrorism unit began investigating. According to New York magazine,
Initially, they had trouble figuring out who did it: A check for fingerprints yielded nothing, and though a nearby security camera caught a group of people unloading something from a truck, the license plate was illegible. But more than a month later, the NYPD has cracked the case: According to the Times, they’ve identified a 33-year-old artist named Brian A. Whiteley as the person behind the stunt.
The cops’ big break came the weekend after the tombstone was left in the park, when Gothamist published an interview with an anoymous artist who claimed to be behind the project. The interview included photos and details of how the artist had the stone made at a tombstone shop in the New York City area, so police decided to check out a random Brooklyn showroom to see if it had been made there.
They were in luck: The owner told him that he had indeed made the headstone to the specifications of the customer, whom he described as a ‘hipster’ in an interview with the Times. The owner gave police the customer’s information, as well as video of him loading the stone into a truck. The officers then confirmed with the truck’s owner than the same man had indeed rented it.
So just the other day he cops paid a visit to Whiteley, who hasn’t been charged with a crime. In an April interview with New York magazine, the artist (who declined to give his name then) said,
“I’ve been kind of stressed out about it, and paranoid, that the Secret Service is going to show up and, like, pull me out of my house.”
The purpose of the stunt, he said was to
“get Mr. Trump to understand what type of legacy he’s leaving behind. I think it was important to comment on the fact that due to some of his rhetoric, instead of being known as a businessman or a celebrity of sorts, he is starting to be remembered as a person who is fostering hatred.”
(The date of death was left blank, he said, to show that there’s still time for him to change.)
Whitely said at the time that he normally doesn’t talk about his work
“because I like maintaining a mystery to projects.”
But he wanted to clear some things up because he was concerned that the project was being seen as a threat. Now it seems that speaking to the press was the key not only to unraveling the mystery but also to allowing authorities to track him down.
(via NY Mag)
It is a fitting name for the world’s largest print photograph; The Great Picture. It’s a black and white panoramic print of Marine Corps Air Station El Toro, which is a decommissioned military outpost. It measures 111 feet wide by 32 feet high on seamless white muslin.
Made a decade ago in 2006 by six artists in an abandoned F-18 hangar in Irvine, California, not only did they create the world’s largest photo print, they created the world’s largest pinhole camera to produce it. By light-sealing the hangar, and using the light sensitive cloth, the building acted as the “camera” to take a panoramic shot of the base.
It originally produced as part of the Legacy Project, a photographic and historical record of the base before it was transformed into what is now the Orange County Great Park.
After producing the negative, 80 volunteers helped with the development of the print in custom trays the size of an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The Great Picture has been displayed in various across the country since 2007. Wonder where it will live?
(via ABC News)
The world’s richest living artist, Damien Hirst and the most powerful art dealer on the planet, Larry Gagosian, are back in business together again. (Yes, I know, it's a ram. I'm Aries.)
Hirst split with the mega-dealer, who oversees a global empire with some sixteen locations in cities from New York to Hong Kong, just days after Art Basel Miami Beach in 2012.
The breakup with Gagosian came four years after the artist took the ballsy, unprecedented move of organizing an auction of his own work at Sotheby’s London. The sale was held just days before the big crash of ’08 and made Hirst over $150 million.
Neither party has ever spoken publicly about the reasons for the split, and it seems that neither will say why they are back together? (The photo of the two of them here was taken after the split and it seems Larry & Damien have remained friendly.)
Gagosian marked the reconciliation by devoting his entire booth to Hirst at Frieze New Yorklast week (pics of installation by me, shown below here). In 2012, all of Gagosian’s locations worldwide (eleven at the time) showcased Hirst’s spot paintings.
With Gagosian’s 16 galleries worldwide and Hirst’s billion dollar fortune, the sky is the limit. What’s next?
Collecting art can be a daunting task, one many don’t even know how to begin. Figuring out which galleries to visit, finding out about artists, asking questions, negotiating prices, framing, installing, etc. And we all have walls that beg for something interesting to look at. TWYLA is a new art app that with just a few clicks, can take all the effort out of finding great work for your home. Download the app or go to their site, pick a print and it’s shipped to your home, gallery-ready… easy as 1,2,3.
I know all about this because;
A.) I’m an artist and
B.) art curator Heidi Lee-Komaromi asked me to be a part of this new venture.
I have 4 prints, Be Here Now above, + 3 more at the bottom of the post. And my friends and family get 30% OFF plus FREE SHIPPING by using this link. FREE shipping & FREE installation (in NYC, LA, San Francisco, Austin, Houston & Dallas) through May 18. Check out some of my faves below, and feel free to repost this to let your friends in on the BIG discount.