"Slaughterhouse Five" by Kurt Vonnegut

I should love this book -- It's about time travel (indeed, I can see an influence on "The Time Traveler's Wife")... and Germany -- ...but I didn't. I mean, it wasn't bad. It was OK. There were even a few profound moments. (A good foil to "The Matrix" in its presentation of acceptance of fate vs. free-will.) But, in the end, it totally reminded me of those old sci-fi books (which I associate w/ the 50s, but - as I'm learning from the astronaut series - 1969 was not that far ahead, in the mainstream)... Written from the pov of a privileged-and-intelligent-but-somehow-"off" white male, surrounded only by white men, except for those disposable, peripheral token ladies that they begrudgingly allow into their lives... the wives and daughters, who they don't really respect... well, suffice it to say that kind of literature alienates me. But that's just me. I'm sure the book is well above average, but I can only give it a 4.

"Song of Solomon" by Toni Morrison

I feel so often bombarded by mediocrity that I find myself astounded when I encounter a work so beautiful as this... The characters, the language, the story... great literature. Rated 1.

Big City Junk

Why would I buy a book by the same author as a piece of (true) junk that I rated with a 9? A delusion brought about by a temporary intoxication when something looks like it's populated with garage-sale design stylin' is my only excuse. Turns out that at least the author has some friends with interesting taste, so this book has some merit in featuring their hauls and creations. Displays of regional emphases available to junkers is also somewhat entertaining.) In the segments that feature the author's own junk collections, however, it's deja-vu of junk really equaling junk. (The habit has been passed on to her son, but his collections are not quite as crappy.) A significant improvement on the last read. Rated 6.

Sweeney Todd

Speaking of annoying ingenues, I forgot (rather, have been too busy) to write a blurb about this film (among others). What can I say? Every character that survived this comedic gore-fest, I personally wanted to slay. If this were the Toledo Rep's casting, I'd understand, but Tim Burton has access to a much deeper talent pool. Even Sasha Baron Cohen and Alan Rickman couldn't elevate the film out of the cutesy morass. Another reminder that - after years of being deceived by "Nightmare Before Xmas" - it is not Tim Burton whose talent I envy so much as Henry Selick's. Lest I sound too negative, I *did* like the film more than I thought I would, not being the biggest Sondheim afficionado (or scholar). I appreciated some nicely-structured bits of stage-to-film, and the singing wasn't abysmal. Besides the slay-worthy young, Tim Burton really needs to shuffle up his casting, however, I really had enough of Helena BC about fifteen years ago, and Johnny Depp's rep doesn't have *that* much redemptive power, let alone time and again. She does do "crazy" pretty well, though, I must say. Rated 4/5

Slings and Arrows, Season One

I feel that I am blending into a stereotype to admit how hilarious I found this series to be. When I was in Film, it was a joke how much folks in the film community *loved* movies about movies... and here I am, working in Theatre, laughing my ass off at a show about Theatre... and about putting on a production of "Hamlet" (which we are currently preparing), no less!
The only distractions I found were the lovely ingenues... Rachel McAdams' (oh great, she's going to be in "The Time Traveler's Wife" - an adaptation of a book I liked so much I'll have to see it) cutesie with the too-long-sweater-sleeves act struck me as an old-fashioned rehash of Jennifer Garner, and Luke Kirby is supposed to be an American Hollywood star? Right. What's that abooot? In the face of this drama and beauty, the season still gets a 2/3.

Kronos Quartet, Nonavut

I'd heard these guys on the radio, but the live concert (at Disney Hall) was quite an experience. The quartet's performance constantly reminded of what a physical act music really is. This was especially so in the pieces that involved guest artist Tanya Tagaq. I must predicate the following comments with the comment that - as crazy as it is - I "got" Yoko Ono when I saw her in concert (1999). I'm not going to listen to Yoko albums in the comfort of my home (except for Double Fantasy's "Give Me". That's hilarious.), but I'm not going to berate her as an insane warbler, as one very well might. This concert reminded me a lot of that experience. Apparently Tanya Tagaq has paired in the past with Bjork, and I can see why, but the most mellow Tagaq moment makes Bjork's most avant garde seem as poppy as Brittney Spears. Ms. Tagaq's performance, in fact, reminded me greatly of Ms. Ono's... if Ono could sing. This Inuit throat singing was nothing like I expected, but it clearly involves great skill. In between the orgasmic pantings, a pretty soprano would surface. This blend of cute and guttural struck me as surprisingly musical. How could such a clean sound survive the sandpaper aerobics that the vocal chords must surely endure? I don't know, but it was nice. Rated 2++

Asha Bhosle

This was my first concert at Disney Hall. It feels as though you are sitting inside a big elephant. The seating is well-arranged, and the design is beautiful - with a spectacular centerpiece organ.
I was impressed by Asha Bhosle's performance, in her 75th year. Late-life (TV) performances by singers such as, say, Rosemary Clooney seemed to me very belabored. Age (and weight) played heavy on the voice. I can't claim to be an astute judge of the gradients of quality in Indian music, but to me her performance was still fresh, with the high trill and twang still intact. I don't have the "now" and "then" tracks side-by-side to compare, but they were still quite soprano, which is impressive to me, knowing that most singers take their songs down an octave as they age.
The concert as a whole was somewhat dragged down by her "co-host", Amit Kumar, who spent entirely too much time (mostly in Hindi) extolling his late father, who often performed with Ms. Bhosle. It was a lovely gesture that the son could perform duets with her, but his solos were nowhere near the quality of the primary performer (white-jacket synth-fest), and the manner in which he delivered the long-winded comments that I could make out reminded me of a Singapore phrase: "He think he very can." While his solo segments made the concert drag (Lots of honkies left early, but I suppose much of the audience didn't have issue, since Bollywood flicks themselves tend to be four hours), he was quite adequate in his duet performances. And Asha Bhosle was stellar. Rated 2.