Filthy is here

I got my copy of FILTHY today from Patrick Brown... man, it looks incredible. Great writing, great graphics, really nice paper. It's just a great-looking little magazine. Apparently Dave Eggers got ahold of a copy at the LA Times Book Festival and he loved it, and that can't hurt. If you want to take another gander at this little mag, check it out here.

Also, if you want to download some music today, but can't decide what to search for on the file sharing application of your choice, can I recommend Esquivel... he will blow your mind.

- C. Max Magee @ 9:37 PM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Filthy debut

Filthy magazine is debuting at the Los Angeles Times Book Fair this weekend. And it will also be available at the lovely internet book store First Cut Books. The hippest online book store ever. The debut issue of this pitching quarterly includes a piece by yours truly about the seaon I spent as a ghost in Little League... Sounds intriguing, eh? Believe me, this is one good looking magazine; think McSweeney's but all about Pedro Martinez, Randy Johnson, Barry Zito, and countless other fireballing luminaries.

Also, yesterday George Plimpton was joined by Maile Meloy and Bernard Cooper at the book store to present the new Paris Review. Plimpton is fascinating, a throwback to a literary culture that has likely disappeared, both times I have seen him speak he has told stories about his sporting (and writing) youth that are as entertaining as they are valuable as artifacts of a different time. I should add that the new Paris Review book is a really fantastic collection.

- C. Max Magee @ 11:10 PM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Lots to report

Lots to report... first in Max's writing news, the new issue of period magazine has been posted. It features the little piece I posted here earlier about Dodger Stadium. I like it, but it sure seems awfully short up there on the page. At any rate, it's a pretty neat little online mag, eclectic and just for fun.

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Now, on to more pressing matters. I had a full and eventful last 3 days. On Friday, I saw The Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Henry Fonda Theater. It was the second time I've seen them, and I was more or less equally as disappointed as I was the first time I came to LA. I still enjoy the music, and I think the EP is great little chunk of rock and roll, but they don't seem to have the heft to carry a show in venues as large as the theaters they've been playing in LA. In fact, in vast cavernous spaces like the Henry Fonda and the Palace (where they played their first LA gig) the rock energy sounds hollow. Plus, I'm not really into Karen O's onstage antics.... I mean I love onstage antics as much as the next guy, but it seems like she's just mugging for the camera.

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On Saturday, quite unexpectedly, I had a remarkable, unforgettable experience. While I was working the cash register Gabriel Garcia Marquez came into my bookstore. I was floored. He is absolutely one of my heroes, perhaps my favorite writer of all time (or as I have occasionally phrased it "the best writer of all time"). He wandered slowly around the store, taking his time, looking at various books. When he came up to the register, another, younger gentlemen joined him, and he translated for me as I talked to Marquez. It turns out that he speaks very little English. Mostly, I talked to him about Maqroll since Alvaro Mutis is one of his oldest friends, and since I love that book so much. Plus I felt a little strange about talking to him about his own books. He told me that there will be no more novellas about the Gaviero and his friends, but that Mutis continues to write poetry in which Maqroll plays a central role. He also signed some books for me, including the Spanish-language edition of his autobiography which he inscribed "Para Max, del amigo, Gabriel Garcia Marquez 2003".How fucking cool is that! I also got some signed copies of his other books. They have quickly become some of my most prized possessions.

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Last night, Easter Sunday night, I went back to the Henry Fonda to see The Faint and Les Savy Fav. I had never really heard The Faint, but I'm really into Les Savy Fav, and I've been dying to see their legendary live show. They didn't disappoint: lead singer Tim Harrington's antics (remember: I love onstage antics as much as the next guy) had a charming easter motif to them, and he made good use of chocolate bunnies and jelly bean filled plastic eggs. For the last song, he brought a few dozen people on stage and everyone really rocked out. The Faint followed, and while I don't really get their electro-goth sound, their video projection light show was impressive... plus the kids really seemed to dig it.

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Finally, if you haven't checked it out already. Go to 3wk It's the best internet radio in the world.

- C. Max Magee @ 6:54 PM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Seeing off

I dropped my buddy Cem off at the airport today. I'm a little jealous because he is embarking on a world tour that is sure to be remarkable. He is starting out with a brief stop in Australia, followed by extended stays in Thailand and Vietnam. After this, he intends to live in Cairo for a few months with jaunts to Turkey and possibly some other Middle Eastern locations... maybe even Baghdad if the cards fall a certain way. He has assured me that he will be keeping track of his wanderings via his brand new blog, complete with a title inspired by Maqroll which I gave him to read. It's the ultimate book for any traveller.

- C. Max Magee @ 2:18 AM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

A day at the races

I had my first day at the races today when I went to Santa Anita and bet on the horses. The San Gabriel Mountains hover over the far side of the track. It's a beautiful track and it was a good time, despite the fact that I lost some money. In fact my only winning bet of the day was a trifecta that paid $15.40. My excitment about this was much tempered by the old Filipino lady sitting behind me who was laughing her ass off at me about how small the pay off was. But it was a nice enough day at the races.

- C. Max Magee @ 2:23 AM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Chris Burden

I saw the artist Chris Burden speak at SCIArc last night. I know of his work from the art history classes I took in college. He is most well known for conceptual/performance pieces that even in our more jaded times are pretty shocking: He locked himself in a 2ft X 2ft X 3ft locker for five days; he sequestered himself for 22 days on a ledge built close to the ceiling in a New York gallery. Though the audience was told he was there, they were not able to see him from their vantage points. At his gallery in Venice Beach he pressed live electrical wires against his chest. He had hiself briefly crucified atop a Volkswagon Beetle. And, in a piece that has proved to be his most notorious, he had a friend shoot him, agressively confronting the artist/audience relationship.

At some point, however, he switched to architectural work, both on the scale of buildings and scale models. During his lecture he didn't not explain this transformation. I suppose he wasn't obligated to, but it would have been interesting. His later work is very introverted, and seems very weak compared to the early part of his career.

He did have a few things of interest to say though. most notably that "sculpture is different from two-dimensional work in that it forces the viewer to move," and the revelation early in his career that if he brought a prexisting object into the gallery and acted upon it during the course of the piece, the audience would see his actions as the art and not the objects. This was his transition from sculpture to performance. L. and I discussed at length whether we should be disappointed in an artist who has turned away from his early, daring work, and who seems unable to talk about why. Though in the end it is hard to make such a judgement based upon a single lecture. Today, my coworker said that the wilder the public persona, the milder the private citizen, and surely there is an element of that at play here. Still, I cannot reconcile the idea that a man who once had himself shot before an audience (1.) can find little compelling to say about it and (2.) now creates work which is as bland as his early mastery was vital.

Here is a link to his interviews as well as some of his work.

- C. Max Magee @ 10:50 PM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Daylight saving

I have discovered these past few days that there are two types of people: those who like daylight saving time, and those who do not. The folks who like daylight saving are like me. They are optimists who look forward to a long summer of sun-drenched evenings, where you can spend the evening hours outside in the warm, lingering dusk. Those who don't like daylight saving moan about losing a single hour on one weekend of a year of weekends. These people's lives are mercilessly scheduled, and they apparently find no way to derive joy from the extra daylight, they instead cling to that lost hour as an example of the many ills that befall them. I don't like those people.

- C. Max Magee @ 12:31 AM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Destination: Dodger Stadium

I went to the Dodgers home opener today; park the car in Echo Park and walk over the hill. It was a beautiful day and a good game. Extra innings, though we left after the 11th. Eventually the D-backs won, much to the dismay, I would imagine, of the sell-out crowd. In honor of this baseball occasion here is a little ode to Dodger Stadium that, I belive, will be appearing in Period Magazine whenever their next issue comes out:

Destination: Dodger Stadium

Most locals call it Chavez Ravine because it sits in a hilltop hollow of the same name. It's a pitchers' park that's known for its pitchers. Slugger Willy Stargell once likened hitting against Sandy Koufax to "trying to drink coffee with a fork," and folks still talk about the Fernandomania that accompanied Fernando Valenzuela on the way to his Cy Young, Rookie of the Year coup in 1981. World championships have been won there, too. The Dodgers won the World Series twice in their first four years at Chavez Ravine, and they've won two more since then.

At Dodger Stadium, pitchers love the spacious outfield (385 in the power alleys), but the fans in the seats seem to dwell on far weightier matters. While the locally famous Dodger Dogs may not live up to the legendary status that has been bestowed upon them, they will more than satisfy anyone seeking a standard ballpark frank. Combined with a cold beer and six dollar seat, a Dodger Dog seems just about right. I haven't found there to be a bad seat in the house, from the $6 cheapies in the upper deck to the $150 "Diamond Club" tickets that put you right behind the plate, rubbing elbows with Tinseltown luminaries. A seat somewhere in between these two extremes is where you�ll get your money's worth (though the "local color" of the upper deck is an experience unto itself). According to the Dodgers' website, Chavez Ravine is "one of the best maintained facilities in the country," and I haven't seen anything to make me worry about the veracity of that claim. Nor should anyone really worry about a rainout, since the chances of that happening have proven quite slim. In 40 years the Boys in Blue have been rained out only 17 times. So next time you're in town check out a game; it's not the only game in town, but it's a game worth seeing.

- C. Max Magee @ 9:54 PM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Destruction party

Pictures from that Sharp Ease show/destruction party are available here courtesy Derek.

- C. Max Magee @ 2:47 AM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

A party at a squat

Last night Derek and I went to a party at a squat on Western in a no-man's-land area of LA. Apparently, the kids who were squatting there are about to be kicked out, so this was one last bash. We went because the Sharp Ease were playing. Several other bands were playing as well, and throughout the show people were sporadically destroying the place, a set of abandoned apartments above a non-descript furniture store. The place was already very trashed from months of parties. The doors to many of the rooms had been ripped off the hinges and the graffiti-covered walls were pockmarked with holes and dents. The Sharp Ease played their usual, drunken, high-energy set, and the crowd got pretty rowdy. By the time they finished singing, people were tearing down the walls and launching things - cans of paint, small appliances, cinder blocks - through the windows and leaving a litter of glass and debris all over Western Ave. Derek and I, sensing that it would get worse before it got better, drunkenly headed back to our homes.

- C. Max Magee @ 9:24 PM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

Cholodenko

Cholodenko, Cholodenko.... Cholodenko. It really rolls off the tongue. I saw a movie directed by Ms. Cholodenko this evening. She didn't direct it this evening, I saw it this evening, at the Vista in Los Feliz. I had enjoyed her previous movie, High Art. In Laurel Canyon she continues her riffs on sexual predators, sexual innocents, and the curiosity of all those folks thrown together at once. It was light and entertaining, but also pretty invigorating. Frances McDormand plays a "seen it all" record producer. Her life is fun and free of the usual drudgery, and those around her don't know whether to fear or envy the life she leads while surrounded by rapscallion British rocker types. Like High Art, Laurel Canyon is a coming of age story, but without so much psychological trauma and none of the admonishments about the scary drugs.

- C. Max Magee @ 12:26 AM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post

 

The Gaviero

I am almost done reading a very remarkable book. Actually, it's not really a book, it's seven novellas about one man, a mysterious character by the name of Maqroll the Gaviero. He is too complex to really describe, but I suppose I might try: he is an adventurer first and formost, preferably by sea, but he is not in it for the excitment. His travels are constant because it is his compulsion. He is a lover of the world and ships and beautiful women. He is an excellent judge of character, though he is often drawn into disregarding his own judgements. He encounters many fascinating characters, and we follow as well the Gaviero's companions and trusted friends, Abdul Bashur (Dreamer of Ships) and Ilona Rubenstein (the Nymph of Trieste).The Adventures and Misadventures of Maqroll by Alvaro Mutis is, dare I say it, on par with and even surpasses the work of Borges and Garcia Marquez. These novellas span the globe like no book ever has. Maqroll visits every continent and sniffs out schemes and companions in every port. This Maqroll, he is no vain adventurer, no hero. He is tortured by his restlessness. He is at the same time a most exceptional man, well-read and loyal, courteous and brave when bravery is required. And yet he is so fragile. I worry about Maqroll as he is blown about the globe by the whims of a strange fate. I am almost done with the 7th and final novella. I have almost reached the last of the 700 pages, but I am not ready to say good bye. This Maqroll, he can really get ahold of you. I have read some books, and though I am by no means an expert, I can say that this book will have to be a classic. It is just so good.

- C. Max Magee @ 1:41 AM ~ comments: 0 ~ Links to this post