one potato and also two potato a love story or manifestations of my familiar

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one potato and also two potato a love story or manifestations of my familiar

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Song Review: Julian Lage - “Vanishing Points” (Live, Jan. 20, 2024)
Chaos and calm contrast on “Vanishing Points,” a scant-of-melody number with a rhythm section, but no describable rhythm.
In their place, guitarist and composer Julian Lage and his band - bassist Jorge Roeder, drummer Dave King, saxophonist Levon Henry and Patrick Warren and Kris Davis, on keys and piano, respectively - mix improv with charts; consonance with dissonance; clattering sound with near silence; and hand a relaxed solo to Roeder while leaving what melody there is to Davis.
This is Lage diving deeply into his jazz pool, as captured on video Jan. 20 in San Francisco. The performances are pristine; however, a fondness - or at the very least tolerance - for the genre’s formlessness is essential to securing enjoyment.
Grade card: Julian Lage - “Vanishing Points” (Live - 1/20/24) - B
12/20/24
karl-heinz adler, serielle lineaturen (tafel 1), (graphite on fiberboard), 1989
Push a shovel into the soil anywhere in the United States and there's a story to tell. One you probably don't know, were never taught in any history class, will probably die not knowing. But know it's there. Like life and death. Grief and loss.
"Filament" by Kirsten Rian, an accompanying essay to Vanishing Points (photobook) by Michael Sherwin.
vani...
lla extract
tas no carte
ty tables
shing points

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throws art onto tumblr for august like an old man throws stale bread to pigeons
vanishing points? is that the tsau?
nah! vanishing points is our post-apocalyptic road trip story. levan’s hand hanging out of the car window, kairo driving eyes straight ahead while static plays on the radio. levan is california sun and shine & has sunglasses and a hawaiian shirt and the cat named rabbit that he rescued from his neighbor’s house and drives a purple convertible that’s not fuel efficient in the least, but hey! it’s the end of the world, and who cares about fuel efficiency when there’s gas stations at every corner with no one left to pump them? he packs light and loots his supplies whenever he stops and he finds kairo after weeks of traveling, sitting in a pew of an empty church in west virginia, with a cargo truck full of supplies and a rifle slung across his back.
vanishing points is not about an apocalypse in the usual sense. it’s simply that 99% of the population vanished overnight and the 1% left found themselves alone in an empty world. there is no panic, there are no bodies in the streets. it’s simply waking up alone in a quiet morning and being the only person alive for hundreds of miles around. in americana everything is empty and lonely and vast. it’s about the horror and surrealism and isolation (it’s about kairo leveling his rifle at levan when they first meet, outside that church in west virginia, and them both knowing he would not shoot because then they’d both be alone again.)
Toyin Odutola in 'Vanishing Points' at James Cohan Gallery
The skin, shirt and vest of the man in this portrait by Toyin Odutola are alive with pattern, a foil to the quiet interior in which he stands and a suggestion of busy thoughts. Looking out into the light coming from outdoors, he’s privy to a vision from outside that we can’t yet see. (In ‘Vanishing Points’ at James Cohan Gallery through April 22nd). Toyin Ojih Odutola, Manifesto, charcoal, pastel and pencil on paper, 18 ¾ x 23 ¾ inches, 2017.