The 22 Magazine


One Night Stand: A Biblical Epic on Mastication
January 21, 2013, 12:46 pm
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

By David Moody

Lord, forgive all my foxiness. Remember us humans, us cruising
to nightclubs and not braking to dead stop, us stepping—
no hand rail—in black pumps and boot-cuts up to the slut box
then forgetting to dance. Us keeping secrets. Our leaving no tip.
Sometimes in a good fuck I speak carpentry—spackle and jack
tape, Jesus rib, caulk. I awoke this morning naked as a jay bird. Buzzed,
wearing glasses, I held on to no one but my body pillow, Sacagawea,
keeping her warm. Almost a godsend, God, almost.

I confess I want guidance. Guide me to the country of Charity,
that hard-knuckled woman, her deep ankle boots. Can she have red
hair or is black a must? I imagine her hips as I often do hips—chisels
and axes that hack at a crowd thralled to some DJ.
This woman shapes through body’s rhythm her own thrumming
god. Fox beast, incisors, torso warped thing. Its own twisted shape a way
of confessing. To choke without a throat, slowly, on praise.

From what is this thing we have gnawed happiness? How
has it tasted all of our lives? God of Smudged Chins. God of
Half-Virgins. We wedge fingernails into the gaps between backboard screws
and corner beams. With a wonderful quickness we know bed as world.
God, what I’m saying is that I suspect heaven
was planned with a right hand drawing blueprints on napkins,
the left hand still-buried in some idle fur.

Forgive me but nightclubs are like your mouth, like my bedroom
with its ceiling too low. The off-kilter whir of fan blades replace
any belief in collar-starch morals. Forgive the room’s stucco.
Forgive the drunk nothings this tile floor revibes. No,
nothing’s wrong with yesterday’s meats. Sometimes, though, I am
little more than gaps found between words—good and then
morning. A click-click that lingers. I cannot tell if its high heels or teeth.
If I am flea, Lord, and not a fox, I insist one thing: you must bite, hard.




David Antonio Moody writes out of Tallahassee where he pursues a PhD in poetics at FSU. Former poetry editor for SawPalm and Juked, David is production editor of Cortland Review and Southeast Review. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Sweet, Eleven Eleven and Spillway.



Freshwater
November 15, 2012, 4:14 pm
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

by Nadra Mabrouk

You wanted to use a caterpillar as fish bait.
The soft fuzz of its pinky-long body
squirmed as though in slow motion
and you, not able to cut into its mouth, shivering,
threw it back in the grass.

And I thought we could take this bike anywhere -
Instead, we stop,
lay it on the ground near my chalky ankles.

a half naked woman’s shoulders near us, tanner than us — she is a bear:
waiting for the small gloves of fish
to tug, then grabbing them off the hook with large fingers
and swollen palms
as though her growth depended on them.

And what does our growth depend upon?
Exoskeleton? Thin needles inside fish?
The sturdiness of understanding the variations of the skeletal system?

I turn to prickling hairs on your thin-skinned elbow
and rub my cheek against your ribs.
You place your fingers on the sinking earth of my face
as though tracing hunger on the cheekbone
as the woman limps away.

She leaves with a basket of fresh bodies.
Something to slice open, squeeze lemon on,
cradle in your mouth and feel whole.

In a thought made of silk,
I am cutting softened peaches into puddles of vanilla,
a dessert, after salting the center of a cut salmon:
pink tongues on a refrigerated platter.

After we eat – a marinated silence
and hands, smelling of the river,
something swift to salvage us.

But instead,
You fill your hands with the grainy metal of the handlebars
and walk ahead of me,
footsteps slow and dry in the heat.



Nadra Mabrouk was born in Cairo, Egypt where she spent only five years. She has ripped memories of the country. Her family has since moved from one apartment to the other so she is familiar with different pieces of Miami yet does not know what it is like to mark your height as you grow in an old house to compare to your siblings. She wrote two poems in fifth grade and then picked poetry up again in ninth grade. Since then, she’s known this may the definition of concrete. Sometimes, she will have a swollen eye and takes a cyproheptadine pill to block the allergic reaction. But the side effects are brutal and any loud noise makes her feel as though the insides of her body are vibrating. This is why the world should be quiet and listen to the soft jazz of the air. She is a junior in Florida International University studying English and working with the University newspaper, The Beacon, as a managing editor and reads poetry submissions for Gulf Stream, the University’s literary magazine.

 



Eduardo Fonseca.
September 7, 2012, 5:21 am
Filed under: ART | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,


WEBSITE.



What it does.
June 26, 2012, 2:39 pm
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


 By Shanita Bigelow


               I am not a man.
               Were there a place for this kind of truth, it would rest like a hand at rest, only as heavy as
it tends/needs to be.
There are numbers and signs and bedposts and other treasures left for streetwear.
            In your mouth I found a mound                          and in time it will uncover itself, reveal
the buried, your ancestry kept beneath, sublingual and integrating, sublingual and dissolving,
sublingual, making its way through your vessels, shining light in new space, building mounds of elbow
and knuckle, pancreas and gallbladder, your eye.              It is not what it does,
not the purpose of a purpose anymore; rather, a guise—calm teeth compelled to mercy and
your eye, the one made of dried tubers               and plantains, the one well versed in the forsaken,
the sacred. In your palm a repository for yes.
                                                                                                                      Yes.                              Yes.         Yes.
There is a shaker being shaken at this very moment and could you hear, you might dance or fright,
you might swallow or listen.              Shake then. The answers you seek exist not in the cumbersome
notes, the copious, not in all those hands, your eye, but in the flavor, the flavor of yes and/or
thank you.               Yes, thank you.
                   If salmon were a gun and smoked, how would you maneuver                        the catch, gesture,
maneuver fork and knife through barrel and flesh—scaled is the freshness of our decrees for the
sanctity, for the answers.                     And life can exist in new measures, line after line after line after. Do
not forsake the smoked gun, the smoking salmon, the smoke.
                                                                                                                    What you’ve left of me today is more
than enough for two. Maybe, I said. Maybe.               Keep in mind what you keep in isolation. There are
carts for this kind of mercy. Call it fear or something like it or not. Call it anything but sorrow
because sorrow does not exist. Not as it should.                                                                    Instead
we are left to want for more and watch the bleeding, the smoking, crying out for another and
another and another, our tongues lost in a cannon, combustible and ugly, grimy like how you said
you’d be there.                               Watch as the pain rejects any exposure to this that does not exist.
Have we forgotten? Again                         and there is another line, more/mere mercy and other things
like webs or candor or a golden rhyme.                                                      Memories are stacked, steeped
                                                                          in what we know of it and then.




Shanita Bigelow, originally from North Carolina, currently resides in Chicago where she works and writes. She has work published or forthcoming in the DAP Journal, NAP and African American Review.



The back door.
May 29, 2012, 4:43 am
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

By Erica Manolith.

I don’t understand,

your life.

The sick look by the back door,

porch screen, flapping in the wind.

You don’t seem to notice the human,

of the humans around you.

Perhaps this makes you vomit?

Where are your skills?

Where is your voice?

It’s a vapor,

it’s a screen in the wind,

it fades,

it aches,

it has nothing to say,

and from nothing,

there is born,

nothing.

 



Erica Manolith is a writer living in Northwestern Pennsylvania. She is currently finishing her degree in France, and is home for the summer writing poetry for sport.



A Desert Poem.
May 15, 2012, 5:26 pm
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by Jane Macavay

If this were the desert,

a separate sea,

what then of that drum we left sitting on the bench that day in Tyman park?

Do you think it decayed?

Broke down,

skin first,

then the bells?

Did anyone try to save it?

Who cares?

 

Left over: a feather, slick and a little greasy,

rested on the edge of that sad instrument,

trembling in a hasty breeze.





Jane Macavay is an musician and writer born in Baton Rouge. She now lives in New Orleans with her sister and three parrot’s. She has been published in various small reviews and magazine’s and her forthcoming book of poetry “If it’s not for Breaking, Is it for Smashing?”  comes out in the Summer of 2013.



Volume 3: Writers Deadline Extension.
May 9, 2012, 8:34 pm
Filed under: The 22, VOLUME THREE | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A little update on Volume 3 of The 22 Magazine, we are currently still in the process on deciding on contributors for Volume 3/III/Three. As always the decision has proven to be twice as hard as more and more talented folk submit. That being said, we are still looking for the perfect pieces of written word (particularly fiction or nonfiction pieces) to accompany most of this beautiful art and music. We will be extending the deadline for writing submissions only to June 12th. Included below is a list of “inspiration” or ideas about what we are looking for in a story. Good luck and thank you for all the amazing submissions so far. Truly an honor to review them all!

HOW TO SUBMIT.

Inspiration list:

Geometries
Car Crash
Math
Numbers
Arctic or “Hidden” worlds
Plants
Monsters
Birds
Evolution
Mutation
War
Maps
Deconstruction



RULE OF THREE #1.

In celebration of the impending Vol. 3/III/Three, we’re launching our first chapbook edition this month! The Rule of Three is a new section where we post three photos or artwork and ask writers to write a short work responding to or narrating the images, or musicians or sound artists to respond with music to accompany the images and words (performance work is also welcome.) Chosen submissions will be posted on the 22 blog and considered for a future small book documenting each session. Only three participants, one writer, one musician and the original artist will be asked to participate in the printed book. We ask that written submissions are kept to around 1000 words and music submissions kept to under 15 minutes.

RULE OF THREE #1:

The first participant for the project is Eleanor Leonne Bennett. Eleanor is a 16 year old internationally award winning photographer and artist who has won first places with National Geographic,The World Photography Organisation, Nature’s Best Photography. Her photography has been published in the Telegraph, The Guardian, BBC News Website, and on the cover of books and magazines in the United states and Canada. Her art is globally exhibited , having shown work in London, Paris, Indonesia, Los Angeles,Florida, Washington, Scotland,Wales, Ireland,Canada,Spain,Germany, Japan, Australia, and The Environmental Photographer of the year Exhibition (2011) amongst many other locations. She was also the only person from the UK to have her work displayed in the National Geographic and Airbus run “See The Bigger Picture” global exhibition tour with the United Nations International Year Of Biodiversity 2010.

TO SUBMIT: Email your submission to the22ruleofthree (at) gmail (dot) com
or to the22magazine (at) gmail (dot) com with the subject line “RULE OF THREE #1)

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love letter in prison code by Steven J. Fowler.
April 4, 2012, 3:33 am
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

dear Honzo

I came home & opened the bay windows

that appeared over our garden

the grass was cut

the treefruit bulbed

but a wounded horse was left behind and abandoned

please come and fetch it now

lest you forget to do so

and I am left

to clean up its mess

after all

Sophia is pregnant

and my other son is using a new razor

he is ready to ‘take care’

of your horse

STEVEN JOHANNES FOWLER (1983) is the author of four collections Red Museum (Knives forks & spoons press), Fights (Veer books), the Lamb Pit (Eggbox publishing) and Minimum Security Prison Dentistry (AAA press). He is the poetry editor of Lyrikline in the UK and 3am magazine. He is a full time employee of the British Museum.



THE WEEKEND: MARCH 30-APRIL 1st.

EDITOR’S PICKS:

Drew Maillard Solo Show: “Living In Interesting Times”
http://www.mfgallery.net/DrewMaillard/DrewMaillard.html
03/31/2012-05/05/2012

MF Gallery, fine purveyors of the eccentric and bizarre, are proud to present the collected works of one of their own. “Living In Interesting Times” is an exhibition of the drawings, paintings, prints and sculptures of Drew Maillard. There is an ancient Chinese curse that goes “May you live in interesting times.” Drew Maillard was born and raised in America in the last quarter of the 20th century… A fascinating era to be sure. He is a product of his environment. Nature and nurture; habitat and conditioning combined. Drew’s adolescence was divided between comic books, horror and sci-fi films, and fantasizing about girls he didn’t talk to. Also there was Punk Rock and L.S.D.. After spending some time in the army and leaving his hometown in upstate NY, he received his Bachelor Of Fine Arts degree from SVA in 2000. His life experiences and travel, as well as an interest in scuba diving and ju-jitzu is what informs Drew’s crazy crazy artwork.

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Cafeteria, State Street.
March 6, 2012, 4:02 am
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by Frederick Pollack

Salisbury steak with a thick
vinegary gravy, stringbeans with the sodium
of preservatives still on them, jello –
could it be jello? – for dessert,
or apple pie I was supposed to like
but never liked, attempting
to cover every part of it
with ice cream. Meanwhile
talking – I remember talking, not
listening (to anything), or silences
(though they must have existed),
or even how Mother looked.
And one decoration, fading orange-red
on a grey wall, three medieval jongleurs
in motley, one with a lute,
their smiles wrong, their dance improbable.

I still don’t understand
why divorce required
the privacy of a honeymoon, sending me
to the apartment of an aunt
on the South Side or one
on Morse – other places
where the Thirties endured the Fifties.
(I’m sorry if, over time, that’s become
obscure.)  Was it to give him
the wherewithal, the “space”
(as people said later) to begin,
as he did once, to choke her?
Other times she accompanied
me overnight to these outposts,
whispering in kitchens
while I watched Victory at Sea.

She wouldn’t have written this
but, could she see it,
she would question the tight-lipped style.
I would explain that it augments, rather than deadens,
the emotion and focuses
the reader.  And she would say,
You’re protecting yourself.
  As on his deathbed, Father –
handing me an envelope
containing, essentially, money – managed
to gasp, You have to be protected ...
(It was dreadful how much I agreed.)


Frederick Pollack is the author of two book-length narrative poems, The Adventure andHappiness, both published by Story Line Press.  His poems and essays have appeared in Hudson Review, Southern Review, Fulcrum, Salmagundi, Poetry Salzburg Review, Die Gazette (Munich), Representations and elsewhere.  Poems have most recently appeared in the print journals Magma (UK), The Hat, Bateau, and Chiron Review.  Online, poems have appeared in Big Bridge, Snorkel, Hamilton Stone Review, Diagram, BlazeVox, The New Hampshire  Review, Denver Syntax, Barnwood, elimae, Wheelhouse, Mudlark, Shadow Train and elsewhere.  Pollack is an adjunct professor of creative writing at George Washington University, Washington, DC.



The Week/Weekend IS BACK.
February 18, 2012, 12:23 am
Filed under: THE WEEK/THE WEEKEND | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

We are pleased to announce, The Week/Weekend, an inclusive list of shows and events going on around NYC and Brooklyn has returned and is better than ever.

How so? For starters, we’ve got a brand new input page. This means that folks have direct access to getting their event listed. While we will still retain the right to editorial discretion, the process is now easier than ever. You also have the option to submit your event for review, or to be an “editor’s pick.” Events will be listed on the blog as usual on Monday’s and Friday’s.

To get your event listed for The Week you must submit by midnight Friday.
To get your event listed for The Weekend you must submit by midnight Wednesday.

To get started visit: http://www.the22magazine.com/EventSubmission

Submit your event by filling in all the fields in the correct format and follow up with an image by emailing images directly to the22magazine (at) gmail (dot) com. Images will be chosen for use at the discretion of the magazine. Do not send more than one image. Please do not send enormous images.

We hope you are excited by this new streamlined process and thank you for your continued support of The 22 Magazine! If you see any hiccups as we finalize this process, please email us at the22magazine (at) gmail (dot) com and let us know what the problem is.



Randy Mora.
February 16, 2012, 4:58 am
Filed under: ART | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

WEBSITE.

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federico hurtado.
January 9, 2012, 4:20 am
Filed under: ART | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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La nouvelle annee de la orphan by Annette Morteau.
December 31, 2011, 6:01 am
Filed under: POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Je connais ces arbres.
Ils ont parlé l’année dernière dans les tounges familiers.
Je veux les voir changer, verdir, jaunir, or, rouge vermillon-infâme.

Est-ce que je sais tous les noms ? Cette année est-elle un souvenir ?

Pour savoir comme ce qu’il se sent pour avoir lieu dans le passé.
Pour marcher ces manières, examinant toujours, avec ce qui pourrait avoir été.

C’est ce qui j’connaître-que ce qui est la poussière, doit se retourner pour épousseter.

Ouvrez la fiole remplie de frelons cacophoniques.

La lumière du soleil bleue,

une foreuse traduisant des ombres en or.

Translation: 

I know these trees.
Last year they spoke in familiar tongues.
I want to see them change, green, yellow, gold, vermilion-infamous red.

Do I know all the names? Is this year a keepsake?

To know what it feels like to take place in the past.
To walk these ways, testing still, with a what could have been.

This is what I know-that which is dust, must turn over to dust.

Open the jar filled with cacophonous hornets.

The blue sunlight,

an auger translating shadows into gold.



THE WEEK: Dec 5-9.
December 5, 2011, 6:51 pm
Filed under: THE WEEK/THE WEEKEND | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

MONDAY:

Photographing the Dead: The History of Postmortem Photography from The Burns Collection and Archive
Postmortem photography, photographing a deceased person, was a common practice in the 19th and early 20th centuries. These photographs, from the beginning of the practice until now, are special mementos that hold deep meaning for mourners through visually “embalming” the dead. Although postmortem photographs make up the largest group of nineteenth-century American genre photographs, until recent years they were largely unseen and unknown. Dr. Burns recognized the importance of this phenomenon in his early collecting when he bought his first postmortem photographs in 1976. Since that time he has amassed the most comprehensive collection of postmortem photography in the world and has curated several exhibits and published three books on the subject: the Sleeping Beauty series. Tonight, Dr. Burns will speak about the practice of postmortem photography from the 19th century until today and share hundreds of images from his collection.

FIRST BOOK BROOKLYN HOLIDAY PARTY & FUNDRAISER
first book–brooklyn is a nonprofit organization dedicated to getting new books to children in need.  join us tonight for their first annual holiday party and fundraiser.

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A SPECIAL 22 FUNDRAISER FILM FROM JEFF BURNS.

Every wondered why 22? Here’s a couple of fun reasons from Jeff Burns, cohort in Gratuitous Art Films and Vol. 1 Contributor.

More than ever we appreciate the unique, unusual, weird in life and we’re willing to share it. The 22 Magazine brings together folks worldwide.

Different viewpoints equals fun art.

New York can be an intimidating place but it can also be a home. To keep these unique, incredible artists, writers and musicians from New York and otherwise around, we need your help.

Please consider donating, even something very small. We are still struggling to meet our goal and we know there are folks out there reading!  We’re not asking for much. A few dollars goes a long way. We’ve added a $5 and a $250 option to the donation and you’ll note a very awesome tote bag or t-shirt is available at the $250 level from contributor and comic artist, John Jennison.

We know, it seems like a-lot but it’s just the tip of the iceberg. There are so many amazing projects we’d like to really give a jumpstart to and your’s could very likely be one of them.

Thanks for listening again and please consider giving today.

~The 22



Blue Primitives Wild By Tyler D. Findlay.
December 1, 2011, 5:36 pm
Filed under: FICTION, POETRY, WRITING | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The water was cold and no one was home so it felt like he could die in it.  Kenneth stood there naked, forcing himself to embrace the onslaught of ice water rushing over him.  The gas bill had gone unpaid for months.
He stepped out of the shower into the warm late summer air carried in through open windows.  Toweling off, he saw no reason to clothe himself and roamed nude through the house smoking a cigarette.
He watched it hang in the air.
Drift toward a window.

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TROUBADOUR KAUL: Letters to Samārā: The Prologue to our Parable’s Premise by Troubadour Kaul

Troubadour Kaul is a collaboration project between the two people exploring poetry, travelogues, prose, photography and music. Their art-words have appeared in various magazines and journals. Their poetry is forthcoming in print issues of Full of Crow, Pyrta Journal, Redaction: Poetry & Poetics, Alligator Stew, Micro Poetry Anthology, Mud Luscious Press and elsewhere in Fall 2012. Troubadour Kaul is also a Guest Editor and Poetry reviewer at Cha: An Asian Literary Journal and will be the on the masthead of the Golden Sparrow Magazine’s upcoming ‘Best of’ print edition.Despite a 2011 Best of the Net + two Pushcart Prize nominations + winning the Golden Sparrow Poetry Prize 2011 and being shortlisted as a finalist in the Best Short Writing in the World in 2012, their ranking in the Indian arranged-marriage-market remains dismal. An MFA in Poetry and promoting their first full length collection of poems seems to be the modus operandi for a happily ever after in 2012.The series  “Letters to Samārā” are excerpts from Troubadour Kaul’s first collection of prose-poetry. His body of work explores the themes of existence, love and identity through the headset of a wayfarer writing to his beloved back home. The work draws its allegories from the Bhagwad Gita, German philosophy and pop-culture precepts with an occasional foray into European mythology.

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THE WEEK: Nov 7-11.
November 7, 2011, 6:40 pm
Filed under: THE WEEK/THE WEEKEND | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

MONDAY:

Paul McCarthy, The Dwarves, The Forests 
Hauser & Wirth New York is proud to present an exhibition of major new works by Los Angeles-based Paul McCarthy, one of America’s most challenging and influential artists. Comprising bronzes, a massive tour de force wood carving, and a pair of fantastical landscape maquettes all presented on the gallery’s two floors, ‘The Dwarves, The Forests’ is the first exhibition of sculptures to emerge from McCarthy’s recent exploration of the famous 19th century German folk tale Snow White (Schneewittchen) and the modern interpretation of that story in Disney’s beloved 1937 animated classic film ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’

AMRAM & CO @ Cornelia St.
David Amram, piano, french horn, flutes, composition & surprises; Kevin Twigg, drums, glockenspiel; John de Witt, bass; Adam Amram, percussion

With Liberty and Justice for Some: How the Law Is Used To Destroy Equality and Protect the Powerful
OCD Lecture Series
Stress and the Individual Litigant: Managing the Practical and Emotional Aspects of Litigation and Exploring Alternatives Zombies Identified – (Re)Considering the Monster #2
Harmony Holiday & Jared Stanley
Abigail Washburn
Evolving Music #5 – Remembering Raphe Malik
Occupy: Presented by n+1 and Housing Works
FALL DOWNTOWN: SEASON PARTY
Robert Graham
LINDEMANN YOUNG ARTIST DEVELOPMENT PROGRAM
League of Professional Theatre Women 

TUESDAY:

Listen to This by Alex Ross
Listen to This—which collects Alex Ross’ finest writing for The New Yorker since 1994—is that rare book that moves across the entire landscape of music, from classical to rock and back again. In this series of lively, erudite essays, Ross tells of his own late-blooming discovery of pop, and of how contemporary sounds relate to centuries of musical tradition. He vividly sketches canonical composers such as Schubert, Verdi, and Brahms; gives us in-depth interviews with modern pop masters such as Björk and Radiohead; and, in a previously unpublished essay, brilliantly retells hundreds of years of music history—from Renaissance dances to Led Zeppelin—through a few iconic bass lines of celebration and lament. Witty, passionate, and brimming with insight, Listen to Thisshows how music expresses the full complexity of the human condition.

The Moth StorySLAM. Theme: Warning Signs
Global Capitalism: A Monthly Update & DiscussionKIRSTIN KAPUSTIK, AMANDA HINCHEY, ALISA FENDLEY, MARI MEADE MONTOYA & FRANCINE ELIZABETH OTT
DANA SCHUTZ “If the Face Had Wheels” book signing and discussion with Barry Schwabsky
Rescue Me!
Balzac’s Omelette
Lonely Dear
CAN MOTHERS STOP TERRORISM?
ICONOMANCY

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THE WEEKEND: Nov 4-6.

FRIDAY:

Editions|Artists’ Book Fair
The 2011 Editions|Artists’ Book Fair will take place Friday, 4 November to Sunday, 6 November.
Founded in 1998 by Susan Inglett of I.C. Editions and Brooke Alexander Editions, the Editions|Artists’ Book Fair has grown in size and stature to become the premier showcase for contemporary publishers and dealers, presenting the latest and greatest in prints, multiples and artists’ books. The Editions|Artists’ Book Fair is well known for its vibrant energy and innovation, thanks to over sixty exhibitors, presenting hundreds of artists representing New York, Johannesburg, Amsterdam, London, Paris and points in between. The Editions|Artists’ Book Fair was the first fair to offer FREE admission, initiated with the intent of introducing a broader public to the medium of prints, multiples, and artists’ books. Fourteen years later the Fair continues to do just that.


ZEN MONSTER LAUNCH PARTY
The launch event at the Brooklyn zen center, 505 Carroll Street, on friday night nov. 4 for zen monster magazine marks our 3rd issue– an unusually strong and clear statement of buddhist, non-buddhist, and trans-buddhist art, poetry, and subversive political statement — our strongest endorsement yet of gary snyder’s landmark essay “Buddhism and the Coming Revolution,” which we printed in ZM#1 back in 2008. our zen buddhist praxis here in Brooklyn and n.j. is edgy, overtly political, and aesthetically liberated from any particular form or artistic ideology. we back the Occupy Wall Street movement 100%; our art editor noah fischer has been in Zuccotti Park since day one, even demonstrating as an artist there on wall street before day one with a small group dressed up as currency, as money, and he is there today and every day.

(HESS IS MORE) GLASSLANDS, EARLY SHOW/LATE SHOW:Laser Sword, Mike Slott, Rl Grime:
Hess is More Record Release Partty! with Xenia Rubinos, and Bow Ribbons HESSTORY ”If you think of a piece of music as a rubberband – I like to try and stretch it. Let’s say melancholy in one end, and humor in the other, and see how far you can take it. Bringing oppositions together. “ Welcome to the playfull world of Mikkel Hess aka HESS IS MORE.

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THE 22 FUNDRAISER: VOL 2/II, SIGN AND SYMBOL.

THE 22 MAGAZINE: VOL 2/II, SIGN & SYMBOL: THE FUNDRAISER.

We know. You wait for this moment all year. Perhaps with bated breath. Likely with tingling anticipation. Well, tingle no longer my friends. THE 22 FUNDRAISER has officially begun.

There are some amazing (and expensive) things coming up for The 22, including the rather mad attempt at publishing THE 22 REVIEW, our first print incarnation of The 22 Magazine: Vol I and II. Encompassing a year’s work of work, this volume is testament to the first year of the 22 and the contributor’s (both in the magazine and on the web) that have made it possible.

So HOW do you get a copy? Well, one way to ensure you do it to GIVE US MONEY. There are a plethora of things we’ll reward you with for donating (besides our undying devotion) and you’ll also help stroke our fundraising egos so in the future we can do bigger and better things.

We truly thank you for whatever you can give.

DONATE NOW! OUR THANKS FOREVER.




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