Oh Dog, you Sleuth!

New favorite photographer. This site is pretty great overall. Check out what they have for William Eggleston and Gary Winogrand and Lee Friedlander while you’re at it. But why no Robert Frank or Nan Goldin?

from Thursday:

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I got to see lots of weird stuff walking around the galleries at lunch today. The clusters of mud above were removed from the leaning tower of Pisa, to make it stand more upright I guess. And that strange Muppet scene by the same photographer who does all those alien pictures. The picture at the top got me really excited. It’s hard to show just how big that eagle is. It’s about the size of a Volkswagon and spun around the room in a wide circle. I had a quicktime of it, but Blogger was acting really weird about it. It is one of the famous eagles from the demolished Penn Station and I think it’s all about the state of New York architecture or whatever. I hate when you take the time to read about the show you’re seeing, there’s nothing but a bunch of grad school art history post-structuralist mumbo jumbo bullshit about what this ‘piece’ means in the context of society. I just want to know, ‘was it hard to make those Muppets?’ or ‘How did you get those mudpies to stick on the string?’ There was this netting/gate around the eagle’s spinning path so that nobody got crushed. And there was a big crane like structure in the ceiling that kept it moving.

I watched Catch Me If You Can last night, which really sucked. The most ridiculous escape made by Leonardo DiCaprio happens when he’s being extradited back to the US. His plane is landing and he’s locked himself in the bathroom. When the feds break open the door the bathroom is empty (!) because Leo has escaped by unscrewing the toilet lid and crawling through the guts of the plane and then climbed down the landing gear and ran away on the tarmac. Fuck you! I hate Speilberg movies (except for the opening credits of this one, which were beautiful) and especially that requisite shot of the cute kid staring at the camera, which induces retching. In this film, it happens when a very Gangs of New York scruffy Leo sneaks up to his mom’s Norman Rockwell house near the story’s end. He’s peeking in at her new perfect life and his estranged step-sister is peaking out the window at him angelically (barf!) as the cops/feds/army show up symbollically on xmas eve to arrest his ass. All we we were looking for (and felt like the trailers promised) was a lot of Technicolor cavorting with sexy stewardesses and zingy one-liners. Alas…