Amazon wants to build a triple-globe shaped, five story thing, variously called a “biodome” and a “greenhouse,” as part of its three-block skyscraper project. It would be on Lenora Street east of Sixth Avenue.
Any architectural thang with three segments, in which the two smaller segments are spherical, is bound to lead to a lifetime of snickering jokes.
Arrangements of one or more spherical objects at the bottom of a 50-story tower will engender the same responses.
Amazon’s either being brave, or clueless, or devil-may-care bombastic, or some combo of the above.
Second, slightly more serious, comment:
As gargantuan New Seattle monuments to world-class-osity go (and I wish a couple of them would go), this one looks at least somewhat friendlier than the planned central waterfront makeover, kitschier (in a good way) than the Sculpture Park, and not nearly as brutalistic as Chihuly Garden & Glass.
Depending on how it works out, and how tolerant its staff is toward civilian activity within, it could be a welcome addition to the cityscape. Or at least a place in which to hide out from the rain for a bit.
wikipedia via king5.com
And that’s an official, final no, for the next year at least.
No, today’s princess is not about romance: it’s more about entitlement. I call it “girlz power” because when you see that “z” (as in Bratz, Moxie Girlz, Ty Girlz, Disney Girlz) you know you’ve got trouble. Girlz power sells self-absorption as the equivalent of self confidence and tells girls that female empowerment, identity, independence should be expressed through narcissism and commercialism.
photo by kyle johnson, from the set 'portraits of seattle' on flickr
It’s been more than a week since Jen Graves’ Stranger story, “Charles Krafft Is a White Nationalist Who Believes the Holocaust Is a Deliberately Exaggerated Myth.”
The paper’s print issue is now off of the stands.
The controversy continues.
Like many participants in and observers of the Seattle visual-art scene, I’ve long known about Krafft’s open admiration for neo-Nazis and Holocaust revisionist pseudo-scholars. He didn’t keep his views secret. They just hadn’t been written about in the local arts media, prior to Graves’ article.
While Krafft was out of the country when the article was written, Graves was careful not to allege anything about Krafft’s beliefs that he hadn’t specifically mentioned in national blogs, podcasts, talk-radio shows, newsletters, and his own Facebook posts.
Still, the counter-allegations of “hatchet job” etc. against Graves abound.
In the online comment thread for the original article.
In a spirited defense of Krafft (“despite his occasional idiocy”) by his friend (and my sometime book publisher) Adam Parfrey.
And in an essay by white-nationalist book publisher Greg Johnson, “The Persecution of Charles Krafft.”
Some of the counter-attacks are predictable.
There are people who sincerely defend white nationalism and anti-Jewish conspiracy theories.
Then there are people who assert that Graves, the Stranger, and the Seattle cultural establishment in general are a bunch of PC do-gooders who can’t handle any real dissent from their party line.
Ah, the last rhetorical refuge of the bigot and the bully; to turn around and whine that they’re really the victims.
By the way, that last remark of mine is directed toward Johnson and some of the other commenters—not against Krafft himself. Krafft has always been open and forthright about his extreme beliefs, and about his fondness for guys who express even further-extreme beliefs than he does. He hasn’t, as far as I know, ever played the faux “victim” card.
So how do I feel about Krafft, you might (or might not) be asking?
I believe he’s a sincere admirer of various military and paramilitary aesthetics, including those of the Nazi and Warsaw Pact eras.
I believe he’s got a big flaming ego, that enjoys tripping on the “Oh, aren’t I being a naughty, politically-incorrect cad?” vibe.
And I believe “irony,” at least the kind of irony viewers have long perceived was in Krafft’s ceramic rifles and hand grenades and Nazi-kitsch revival pieces, is a tiresome premise.
Every work of “satire” or “parody” contains, in its aesthetic, the real worldview of its creator.
Andy Warhol, for instance, really was a capitalist. Quentin Tarantino really is an exploitation filmmaker.
And Charles Krafft really does get off on power fantasies.
Even really, really sick ones.
As the many unattached among us face with dread the day devoted, by Hallmark and other marketers, toward luvvey-duvvey cutesy-poo, comes a new study on “the old man-woman thing.”
Authors Bobbi J. Carothers and Harry T. Reis claim, among other things, that:
Imagine the possible implications!
Simon Doonan at Slate explains why the massive annual Art Basel Miami gallery convention epitomizes “Why the Art World Is So Loathsome.”
Among Doonan’s complaints: Everything’s become “cool” and distanced to the point of emotional irrelevance; big-money collectors have ruined art as a creative endeavor; pride in craft and skill have disappeared; visual puns and fashion-industry tie ins are overabundant; and “blood, poo, sacrilege, and porn” ceased being shocking ages ago.
And the latter isn’t just a gripe about passé fads. Doonan quotes Camille Paglia’s complaint that deliberately confrontative art simply plays into the hands of right-wing wannabe censors; to the point where…
…art has “allowed itself to be defined in the public eye as an arrogant, insular fraternity with frivolous tastes and debased standards.” As a result, the funding of school and civic arts programs has screeched to a halt and “American schoolchildren are paying the price for the art world’s delusional sense of entitlement.”
Guess what: UK ad exec Charles Saatchi, one of the biggest big-money collectors out there, agrees with most of Doonan’s rant!
This all makes me glad Seattle’s got Roq La Rue as its premier commercial contemporary-art gallery. Owner-curator Kirsten Anderson picks works made with exquisite precision, that express sincere emotions even in their “pop surrealist” tropes. And Anderson not only displays a lot of works by female artists, but works by men and women that display a thoroughly yin sensibility.
ap via nwcn.com
beth dorenkamp via grindhouse theater tacoma
steve bloom, the olympian via seattlepi.com
No. Though that hasn’t stopped the making of unofficial “WE’RE BACK” T-shirts (see above).
And it looks like the Sacramento city fathers appear to be having a hard time finding enough local money to make a viable competing bid for the Kings franchise.
Art Thiel speculates, though, that one such potential “whale” could be Oracle boss Larry Ellison. Ellison may also want to move the team, but only as far as San Jose. (Cue the Dionne Warwick jokes in five… four…)
Still, Seth Kolloen insists that “barring some unforeseen circumstance, the Kings will play here as the Sonics this fall.”
One of Mike Seely’s last tasks at Seattle Weekly is a speculative piece wondering if the neo-Sonics could field an all-Seattle-connected team (ex-Sonics, ex-Huskies, and local high school grads).
Meanwhile, now that the National Hockey League has come back from the dead (again), there’s talk that, instead of moving a failing Sunbelt team, the league could put an expansion franchise into Quebec City and maybe Seattle, or maybe Quebec and the Toronto suburbs. (Considering how the Toronto Maple Leafs have spent more than four decades fielding cheapskate teams, with team management sitting all fat and cozy in the sport’s largest market, a second team there would be intriguing. But not at Seattle’s expense, please.)
No. And probably not for three more months (when the NBA’s team owners will probably vote on Chris Hansen buying nad moving the Sacramento Kings). But yesterday’s announcement that a tentative deal was in place led to a lot of unofficial celebration and chatter. Art Thiel describes the potential return of NBA basketball as a “guilty pleasure,” evoking “painful memories” of the original Sonics’ theft in 2008:
In a year or two, a relative few in this market are likely to remember that the team in green and gold used to be the Sacramento Kings. But for some of us, it will be equally hard to forget those thousands outside Seattle’s federal courthouse in the summer of 2008, reduced to helpless chanting in order to save a passion.
Seth Kolloen at The SunBreak looks back at the past five Sonics-less years and wonders if they’ll even be remembered, while he looks forward to the hoops-mania to come:
In the next few weeks, you may notice strange behaviors from local sports fans — penciling out season ticket budgets on envelopes, suddenly taking an interest in a confused 22-year-old named DeMarcus Cousins, standing wordlessly and worshipfully outside KeyArena. Our minds are in the future now too, instead of the past. In about nine months, we’ll be proud hoops parents.