There is nothing on the front of 49 Crosby Street save for a tiny label under a bell that would indicate that inside is one of the most enduring recording studios in New York. The Magic Shop opened in 1988 well before Bloomingdale’s, MoMA and a luxury hotel became its neighbors. The increase in the area’s rental value spelled the end of the studio. Despite the offer of financial help from Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl, owner Steve Rosenthal was unable to buy the space from his landlord. While Rosenthal will continue his business of mixing and restoring classic recordings, the Magic Shop will close today.
Continues through February 20 at New York Live Arts, 219 W 19th Street, Chelsea. 7:30pm; Tickets are $15 and can be purchased here.
Acclaimed dance artist Valda Setterfeld, sporting a shock of white hair, crafts her own version of Shakespeare’s Lear in collaboration with Irish choreographer John Scott. Interestingly, Setterfeld herself plays Lear while the King’s daughters are played by three men. Don’t expect this to be an evening of period dress and Classical language. Setterfeld may be the right age to play Lear, but this unique and movement-driven creation seems anything but typical.
What exactly is an expedition, who goes on them, and why? That’s what curators Shona Kitchen, Aly Ogasian, and Jennifer Dalton Vincent set out to explore in Setting Out, their exhibition of expeditions (say that five times fast) large and small, real and imagined.
This week, we continue our series of deep dives into the histories of storied addresses.
We’ve all been there: duking it out with a roommate or a significant other over which couch or flimsy dining room table to buy at Ikea. The memories are cringe-worthy. But for what it’s worth, Ikea’s corner of Red Hook has always been a cradle of conflict – and much deadlier conflict. As in, Dutch colonizers displacing Native Americans, and the British confronting Revolutionary armies led by General George Washington. It’s also where battleships dry-docked during the Civil War and World War II.
Holiday parties are usually a claustrophobic nightmare scenario where you’re crammed into a tiny space with everyone you’ve been avoiding all year, but the Judd Foundation’s was a different story. Last night, anyone who got tired of noshing on smoked fish from Russ & Daughters on the ground floor, where Donald Judd’s woodcut prints were on display, could mosey upstairs and tour five floors of the former textile building that the Soho artist purchased in 1968.
Would you rather spend a short evening watching stuff in a bar or dedicate your whole day to the wildest and most visceral of performance art? This week, you can do both.
Where The Wild Things Are 8
At Bizarre Bushwick, 12 Jefferson Street, Bushwick. 9pm; $7-20 suggested donation. More info here.
Party moguls Brooklyn Wildlife present the eighth edition of their evening variety show at Bizarre Bar, home to all shapes and sizes of variety show. At any given moment, you can catch “aggro” raps by Stonehenge Parnhashnakovsky, beats by Star Falcon and Rob Interface, performance art poetry by Terminal Intrusion (Nyssa Frank, owner of The Living Gallery), burlesque, and more. The event asks attendees to wear a costume from a childhood story, a mascot outfit, or just to come half naked. So, suit up. Or down.
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Brooklyn-based artist and poet Juliana Huxtable was all over Miami Art Week this past week, DJing at a Narcissister performance on Thursday and a NADA after-party on Friday. And then, on Saturday, there was a panel discussion at Art Basel proper. The talk was supposed to be about “Transgender in the Mainstream,” but that title was scratched out in a photo that Huxtable posted to Instagram. Scrawled above it: “The Panel That Shall Not Be Named.”
Art openings are interesting entities. They’re often more of a social event than a chance to really take in art. At the opening of MediaLounge, a refreshingly engaging exhibit of new media art at the Westbeth Gallery curated by Katherine Freer, attendees got not only the characteristic smalltalk and free wine but the chance to make electronic music, watch a film on a virtual reality device, create bursts of color with a few quick smacks, wander through a forest of light, view Star Wars in the form of one LED light and more.
Last month when we brought word that the folks at Riis Park Beach Bazaar had decided to keep slinging drinks through the winter, and that one of its vendors, WildFeast, would be continuing on as a proper restaurant, it seemed too good to be true: year-round food and drink smack dab in the middle of Jacob Riis Park? During the off-season the place is pretty much the dictionary definition of “desolate,” with howling winds that will instantly peel off whatever is left of that summer tan.
We don’t always go to midtown, but when we do, we come back with photos from the set of David Simon’s new HBO pilot about the ’70s porn industry. The Deuce has lined West 30th Street, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, with vintage cars, and has transformed 242 West 30th into an old-school Korean restaurant. We didn’t spot the pilot’s stars, James Franco and Maggie Gyllenhaal, but we did get an eyeful of vintage phone booths and mailboxes. We haven’t seen those since… well, Scorsese’s HBO show. All very authentic except for those ’70s-era trash piles, which upon closer inspection contained copies of this week’s newspapers. Don’t worry, Dave, we won’t tell.
Who is Janice Gunter? With handmade postings anywhere from Williamsburg to NYU advertising her strange services and conveniently-rhyming name, it would appear that this bespectacled woman is the latest to join the ranks of NYC’s colorful flyer characters. Visit Janice’s Facebook page and you’ll find nearly six month’s worth of ghost-related status updates, bad jokes, and musings about her Ma’s tendency to videotape everything they do.
Janice also has an Instagram and even a LinkedIn profile, where she explains “[g]host hunting is officially classified as a pseudoscience, but my customer service and attention to detail are more like an art form.” She also worked as a cashier at CVS for an impressive eight years before deciding to follow this ghostly path.
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“Boots and buckles, red clay and sand. My point ain’t subtle. I’m a southern man,” are the opening lines to The Cadillac Three’s song “The South,” a country-meets-rock tune you might just catch if you stop by The Shop this Saturday.