Plasma Pool

Icon

a set of sharp and cogent notes

Stuff We Like

  • The Vice Guide to North Korea

    North Korea

    This brilliant and disturbing documentary takes you deep into the shallows of Kim Jong Il’s hermit kingdom. Somehow, Vice Magazine’s Shane Smith (founder of VBS, Vice’s video division and star of their Guide to Travel series) and a clandestine-camera-wielding companion secure passage into North Korea from China -- pretending to be tourists, of course, because journalists go to jail. For an hour Smith explores the thin, saccharine veneer of majesty and might that the dictatorship uses to obscure the truth about the desperately impoverished and broken country. He mingles with eerily upbeat hosts, waitresses and tour guides, all hand-picked to chaperone him 24/7 during his stay (the pretense of which is to view and report on the Arirang Mass Games, a spectacular orgy of propaganda and gymnastics too baffling for words). Complete with a heartbreakingly awkward karaoke rendition of the Sex Pistol’s "Anarchy in the U.K.," this documentary is a must-see: a visceral primer for anyone interested in understanding the uniquely other-worldly yet backwards North Korea.  -- Adam Schaefer

  • The Art of Marco Fusinato

    Marco Fusinato

    Music, math, the interactive: these are three things that I really like, and Marco Fusinato's art includes them all. Mass Black Implosion is probably my favorite of his projects -- it reimagines musical scores, sometimes by overlaying them with scribbles of varying thickness (maps to some imagined territory), in architecturally-precise lines (an explosion into three dimensions), or as some kind of gloriously strange infographic for the world to come. Aetheric Plexus, in sharp contrast, turns audiovisual detail into interactive assault. It's difficult to get a sense of the scope of some of these works, but it's evident that Fusinato's gallery showings include a vast collaborative and musical component -- I'd love a chance to see some of this stuff live -- and I'm quite taken with his curatorial series You Don't Have to Call it Music, which tasks visual artists to create music.  -- Lauren Caldwell

  • Dianne Wiest's Old Face

    Dr. Gina Toll

    Dianne Wiest first struck me as the standout of Hannah and Her Sisters; then as the Law & Order DA who tells Sam Waterston what to do and how to think. She aged between these roles and now is even older, the offbeat beauty of her youth having morphed into a mature visage of both astonishing expressiveness and grandmotherly inscrutability — a crucial element of her facile and felicitous performance as psychotherapist Gina Toll on HBO's In Treatment. Psychotherapy is a delicate, hyper-pressurized encounter in which change rests on an enduringly empathetic therapist (who is also capable of being perceived as such) imbuing contingent actions and words with novel meanings and potentialities. Gina's patient Paul, a former protégé who returns for guidance after a decade of estrangement that began when Gina denied him a promotion, is ever probing Gina's face for nefariousness. A sleepy spider lying in wait, is what Paul calls her: What secret motives lie covertly in the fragile folds of her jowls, in the puffy bags beneath her eyes, etched on her weblike cheeks? Her enigmatic expressions initially offend Paul, whose history with Gina predisposes him to read any ambiguity in her mien as perfunctorily negative. Not sharing this pervading bias, we enjoy the virtuosic, Emmy-winning face of this gorgeous old lady whose allure and gravitas make me want to ask her to run for president.  -- Kevin Hilke

From the Vault

Things that died in 2008.

Our president pledged as primary candidate to staunchly defend individual civil liberties and curb the domestic intelligence abuses of the Bush Administration. As the Democratic candidate, he hedged. As president-elect, he made stunning about-faces, notably on immunity for telecommunications companies who cooperated with Bush's illegal requests. Now, as president, he's continued as many of Bush's abuses as he's curtailed. Also, there was a time when John McCain wasn't an unprincipled, dishonorable bigot. He was quite the man, when he was a man. Then came a succubus to hasten his by then inevitable decline.

Against the Day

Darren Franich

At 10:49 p.m. on April 27, 2008, I finished Thomas Pynchon’s Against the Day. I had started it in November of 2007. At first I thought it was the best book I had ever read. By the time I decided to finish it, I thought that it might be the worst. There are stretches of the book that seem designed to punish. There are paragraphs of exquisite beauty. There are silly names. There is something like transcendence, although it may happen towards the start of the book or right at the very end. When I think back on every book that I have read this last year and a half, I will always think of them as tangents away from Against the Day. Some strange part of my life is over now. Some kind of passion has been expended. I became more afraid with every word in the last paragraph—afraid that when I finished the book I would die, my own existence a metafictional extra-narrative multimedia subplot dreamed up by Pynchon himself; and maybe afraid that the book would never explain itself, that there would be no final understanding, that the real meaning of Against the Day was behind me. That there was something I had missed, starting the book on the plane out to Hawaii (for a Family Christmas reunion), or on a ship sailing along the Mexican Coastline (for spring break), or at school when I was a student, or at home when I was a nothing, or here, in San Francisco, living a life I could never have imagined in 2006. Against the Day was never just a book, not for me.

Category: Art and Culture, Briefs, Essays, Fiction, and Poetry

Tagged: ,

Leave a Reply

The Plasma Spring