05-12-2013 “Mothers’ Day”/USA We New Yorkers tend to lose ourselves and sometimes lose our minds when let loose in the country. So, on Sunday, when a lucky bunch of us– writers, artists, art collectors, actors, models– got to experience the personal Warhol collection of Peter Brant at the Brant Foundation in Greenwich Connecticut, we got a bit frisky.
Yes, the current Gatsby, actor Leonardo DiCaprio sauntered around the incredible grassy emerald grounds where we lunched on roasted chicken, ravioli, grilled asparagus, and salads. Fierce carnivores devoured the pig carcass roasted to the bones under the giant gray Urs Fischer statue. Another actor, Owen Wilson walked about with his mother, photographer Laura Cunningham Wilson — who started her career as Richard Avedon’s assistant– and seemed to be snapping pix too.
But, it really hit me just how high we were on the supernatural art meets grand nature, when my pals (see the artists Carlyle Stewart/Erik Foss) and I started running towards the giant Jeff Koons dog on our way to the parking lot. Up close, it is NOT a mammoth chia pet, but constructed entirely of bright petite flowers and grass: ditto for the back door, which one can open and enter.
We DID NOT, but check out the pilgrimage, below:
(Photo Credit: Matteo Prandoni/BFA Agency; Grazie!!!)
05-08-2013 We came. We read. We conquered a hot club — No. 8 in Chelsea — and turned it into a performance space, care of my pal, the incredible actress Parker Posey, who rearranged the crowd and stage directed us readers to a balcony overlooking the bar.
So many friends and lovers of stories gathered in one space to hear ’coming of age’ excerpts from our novels. I read from Who Town, Lola’s first time shooting up junk. Bob Morris, re-enacted talking/considering cemetery plots with his father from his memoir Assisted Loving. Paula Froelich recalled how her Republican gun toting daddy almost ran over her ma. Jason Napoli Brooks gave us wet dreams come to life in a German forest. (Yeah, I know that sounds SCARY.) Nathaniel Kressen treated us to a character from his play Young Girls Wanted: Fiona an actress who plays guys the way she switches roles. Anthony Haden Guest rhymed us though jet set youth from NYC to London to Rome. And debut poetess Arden Wohl took us into the life of a doll and the wilderness of a relationship.
For the more visuals and a fun story by Alexandria Symonds, check this from Interview: INTERVIEW MAGAZINE COMING OF AGE
NEW YORK POST: PAGE SIX COVERS LIT SOCIETY NO. 8
**I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR THIS PROGRAM! JUST WAIT TILL NEXT MONTH! DISPLACEMENT, DIVORCE, AND DADDY’S GIRLS WITH LEIGH NEWMAN AND SPECIAL GUESTS.
Director Victor Kubicek taks about the aftermath of Bernie Madoff (Video shot/directed by Susan Kirschbaum)
04-21-2013 It’s going to take a lifetime –maybe never — for Eleanor Squillari to loose the psychological oil slick of having been the secretary of Bernie Madoff, the sheyster who organized perhaps the largest Ponzi scheme in history. Madoff laundered, then stole billions: investments from not just celebrity clients and human rights icon Elie Wiesel, but also the cash of “the average Joe,” who was perhaps the most affected.
It took two very charismatic guys–Derek Anderson and Victor Kubicek— to convince Eleanor to entrust the rights to her life story to them, so they could direct the documentary In God We Trust,” that premiered over the weekend at the Tribeca Film Festival.
The film unveils that Madoff certainly did not act alone, or even locally. I learned of the secret “17th floor” where the dirty deals went down and evidence destroyed; two support staffers — one man, one woman– who resemble mob thugs; and a global conspiracy of high powered brokers, including a Viennese grandma called Sonja Kohn, whom no one can seem to pin down while she galavants around Europe. To note: Kohn looks like Madoff’s doppelgänger, literally she could be Madoff in a wig and lipstick. NOT PRETTY.
But my pal, Mr. Kubicek, who is pretty , sat down with me on his terrace and told me why this film’s a WARNING.
03-26-2013 Last week, fresh off a family holiday filled with matzoh ball soup and tales of freedom from slavery (ei: the Exodus from Egypt), two of my favorite femme fatales — Prince Peter and Jacob DeKat, the editors of Galore Magazine– co-hosted a dinner at the Hurricane Club for their new issue, WOMEN WHO ROCK!
Now, this issue of Galore is filled with cheesecake. By that I mean, all kinds of women — from actress Paz De La Huerta to Blondie, Floria Sigismondi (who directed myriad cool videos including Marilyn Manson’s the Beautiful People) to model Chanel Iman and Talia Shire (yeah, Rocky’s “Adrian!”) are shot in “how do ya like my ta-tas?”poses. The interviews are cheeky, questioning the gals about their obsessions, what a perfect world would look like, to what would you name your memoir?
If any other guys, other than lush haired Mr. DeKat (Cat… prrr… fits him) or twinkly eyed Prince (He’s a combo of Purple Rain Prince and Peter Pan) tried to pull this off, I might be offended. But, they’re both so pretty and they LOVE women, which is why it WORKS.
I found myself at an all girls table sharing fried traif (popcorn shrimp) with Britany Nola, a mulatto, blonde, blue eyed Jewess. She regaled me with stories about women’s rights and showed me pix of her afro sporting fly boy dad. Raised in cow country Pennsylvania, she got herself kicked out of a high school class taught by an arch Republican for wearing an Obama tee-shirt in ’08. Only later did I discover that Ms. Nola had donned the cover of Playboy as Ms. November.
What you see is not always what you get. That’s always how Jacob and Peter’s events go down. Surprises at every turn.
Gotta love the dichotomy.
**End note: The good time continued, post dins at Les Bains at the Standard Hotel.
(Larry Clark montage -1993– shot by Susan Kirschbaum)
02-19-2013 It was a decade ago (almost exactly) when Tiffany Limos — the girlfriend of Larry Clark — took me to the screening of Clark’s film Ken Park at the Tribeca Grand. Tiff presented a kind of hybrid, sweet and feminine — a gal with origins from both Hawaii and Texas– but also fiercely ambitious and studious of intricacies of human nature. With her, you felt somehow she had a revolving third eye that caught everything within her radius, which made it all the more difficult, sitting next to her in a small film room, to watch her have sex with two guys on screen. I remember her asking me to make Larry some matzoh ball soup, as his ex wife is Jewish (his kids half Jewish) and he had a thing for “Jewish penicillin,” my ultimate comfort food.
Now – just last week — I spied Clark’s contribution to “NYC 1993: Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star: “ a time capsule exhibit of that year at the New Museum. It goes back even further, a decade before I met Tiff, and to Clark’s first film, Kids, in which a skater boy who is HIV positive deflowers every downtown virgin he can find. (In her breakout role, Chloe Sevigny portrayed one of them.)
At the time of both films, I had problems with Larry’s work, since it disturbed me profoundly. But, in an exhibitionist age when the self leaked sex tape presents itself as a cheap image booster, what Larry did represents high art. In all its ugliness, it spoke LOUDLY.
The video shows the history that spurred it on.
(Photo from Purple Magazine/Diesel party at Standard Hotel “Boom Boom” room/shot by Susan Kirschbaum)
02-14-2013 I first met Chrissie Miller (left) when she started her line Sophomore with cool irreverent tee shirts. It/she became a downtown cult brand. Here she puckers up to Purple Mag Editor Olvier Zahm aka “Oz” the other night at the Standard. Oz, renowned for the “pin ups” of naked muses he posts on Purple Diary, likes to flow with his animal instincts. Chrissie’s real life beau is artist (star of Larry Clark’s films Bully and Kids) Leo Fitzpatrick. And her mom, Susan Miller, pens the addictive column Astrology Zone.
I forgot to ask Oz the following question, but since it’s Valentine’s Day, here goes it, to my readers: If you could choose between a lifetime of great sex with partners who don’t last or lasting love with just one, which would it be and why?
For those who have read my novel Who Town, Lola certainly presents an interesting case study. If she existed in real time, she’d likely be a Purple muse.