Steve McQueen Exhibit

 Steve McQueen eponymous exhibition at The Art Institute of Chicago is emblematic of his oeuvre; it’s dominated by visual images—often short films—reflecting his personal fascinations.

The first station one encounters at the exhibit is “Static.” From 2009, it’s a continuous projection of slightly over seven minutes in which McQueen circles the Statue of Liberty in a helicopter. The resulting short film shows the iconic figure from rarely-seen angles, like from behind “Lady Liberty,” and loud helicopter noises assault the ears, then fade into ghostly silence. The result is a new, unique perspective of a familiar landmark.

One of McQueen’s earliest works, “Bear,” is another continuous projection short film.

In 1993, McQueen completed the soundless, black-and-white, video, and he’s “described it as one of the cornerstones of his career to date,” according to the guidebook that serves as a complement to the exhibition.

 It depicts two naked, African-American men—one of whom is McQueen—apparently in a fight. The two circle each other aggressively, like in a boxing match, and occasionally grapple with each other. But, they also embrace and leer at each other coquettishly. This work blurs the line between fighting and an amorous encounter, like individuals engaging in rough foreplay.

“Girls, Tricky,” from 2001, has traces of the many instances of artists documenting musicians, like, for example, Martin Scorsese’s filming “The Rolling Stone’s” for 2008’s “Shine a Light,” plus many others. Here, though, McQueen filmed musician “Tricky” (Adrian Thaws) rehearsing and recording the song “Girls.” The video lasts nearly fifteen minutes; at times, it’s brutal to watch—less singing than anguished caterwauling. It’s rough and abrasive, because Tricky is an artist really putting all of himself into the music. It’s true, honest, and sincere.

McQueen was quoted as explaining, “It’s a rare moment that you see an artist close up gearing himself up for such a vocal performance in such a visual way. In effect, a moment not for camera is caught.”

Though most of the works in the exhibition are visual images—either moving or still—“Queen and Country” is an oak cabinet containing a series of 160 facsimile postage sheets; it’s also the most overtly political work in the exhibit. Presented here for the first time outside of the U.K., it’s McQueen’s tribute to the British men and women who died in the Iraq War.

The photos of the deceased, as the guidebook explains, “were turned into facsimile sheets of perforated stamps . . .The sheets are housed in an oak cabinet with sliding vertical drawers and ordered chronologically by the subject’s date of death.”

From farther back, the oak cabinet looks like a casket, and the soldiers are merely planks that make up the whole, but they become individualized when one removes the sheets bearing their names and photos. That’s a poignant and reflective moment, and it’s a brilliant piece.

McQueen, a London-born artist who’s been honored with the prestigious Turner Prize, gained a foothold in the public consciousness in 2011 with his second feature film, “Shame,” starring Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan. The two actors, and McQueen’s writing and direction of the film, received numerous critical accolades and awards nominations. Despite that new success, McQueen’s first gained renown for his artwork, and the collection on display here in Chicago from Oct. 21, 2012-Jan. 6, 2013, is a showcase of his work from the last 20 years.

art exhibit

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi is a Latin phrase that means earthy things are fleeting, and it also serves as the title of the Industry Of The Ordinary exhibit currently showing at the Chicago Cultural Center.

The phrase’s literal meaning is “Thus passes the glory of the world,” and it’s a slogan that was used in papal ceremonies for hundreds of years. A similar Latin phrase was also whispered into the ears of conquering Roman generals, but the point—whether it was for popes, generals, or works of art in Chicago—remains the same: to attenuate hubris and remind all that nothing lasts forever.

Artists Adam Brooks and Matthew Wilson make up the team behind Industry Of The Ordinary (IOTO), and, according the informative pamphlet from the exhibit, “Their work . . . often consists of public interactions and interventions in which boundaries are blurred between the artists and the public, and between art and life.”

It’s not typical art, in the classic sense of paintings on walls, but, rather, more in the vein of Marcel Duchamp’s shock art, John Cage’s annihilation of boundaries between sound and music, and Allan Kaprow performance art.

One station at the exhibit, “Affair,” has a photo of a nude couple sitting on a hotel room bed with masks hiding their faces. The couple was embroiled in an extramarital affair, and IOTO paid for their romantic night at a hotel in exchange for the portrait.

Another station, “Homeland Security,” appeared to be a critique of the infamous U.S. color-coded terrorism threat level system. Five fabricated ceramic weights, in colors corresponding with threat levels—red, orange, yellow, blue, and green—were placed on the wall vertically.

Chris Dankert, who was staring at that exhibit, said, “It felt like it was symbolizing the way the terror-threat level system became a weight on the nation’s collective psyche.”

“Phosphorous,” from 2004, presented photos of 16 glasses—four across and four vertically. In each glass was urine from the artist, after drinking a crate of beer. The liquid began yellow and grew nearly clear by the final glass.

IOTO also presented audio stations. One, from 2004, titled “The Beautiful Game,” played fans singing a famous soccer chant. Naturally, sports are an incredibly ephemeral enterprise, felicitously following the exhibit’s title. Vinny Abramo, a sports fan from New Jersey who was listening intently to the audio, reflected that notion, saying, “Being a sports fan, man, when you’re team wins, you’re on top of the world, and when you lose, you feel buried [under the world].”

The other audio recording was the public answering, asked by IOTO, “what they have faith in.” Perhaps pointedly, many of the things people professed faith in have proved faulty, or, at least, unreliable.

One of the most provocative stations at the exhibit was “Tender II.” From top to bottom, under glass, were a one-hundred dollar bill, a ten-dollar bill, and a one-dollar bill. But, the “bills” were made from, respectively, “The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” the “Final Report of the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States,” and the Bible. Two famous books and a vital document were all made into money. Brian Fu, who was gazing at the exhibit, thought it illustrated the way “Cash is the only real, true currency.”

Character	Actor
Tony Mendez	Ben Affleck
John Chambers	John Goodman
Lester Siegel	Alan Arkin
Jack O’Donnell	Bryan Cranston
Hamilton Jordan	Kyle Chandler
Directed by Ben Affleck. Runtime of 120 Minutes

Argo: 3.5 stars (out of Four)

Though Ben Affleck’s first two directorial efforts, “Gone Baby Gone” and “The Town,” were terrific, “Argo” takes even another step into the stratosphere, as Affleck adroitly balances the delicate tonal shifts between funny, Hollywood satire and the dire situation in Iran.

When an infuriated mob storms the U.S. Embassy and takes Americans hostage in November 1979, six Americans escape and take refuge in the Canadian Ambassador’s residence, and CIA operative Tony Mendez must rescue the six before the Iranians realize they’re missing. After the CIA and State Department consider a plethora of hopeless options, Mendez decides to extricate the six hostages by using a movie shoot as cover.

Of course, this cockamamie scheme strains credulity and would sink the movie--except it did actually happen. Truth is more incredible than fiction yet again.

In order to sell the movie’s authenticity to the Iranians, Mendez enlists make-up artist John Chambers (John Goodman), who won an Oscar for his work on “Planet of the Apes,” and Hollywood producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin).

This movie is especially timely, considering the current unrest in the Middle East. Scenes in “Argo” depicting Iranians spewing anti-American sentiments ring true, because anyone watching cable news right now often sees the same thing from citizens in numerous countries throughout the Middle East. As the hostage crisis drags on, “Argo” also shows footage of U.S. outrage against Iranians, which echoes the current state of America—where half the country is anti-immigration and some are borderline xenophobic.

Arkin and Goodman provide most of the movie’s comic relief, which Affleck effectively juxtaposes with the grave circumstances in Iran. Goodman slides perfectly into the part, like a grandfather settling into his favorite recliner. Arkin’s profane, grouchy geriatric recalls his highly similar, Oscar-winning portrayal of an X-rated grandfather in “Little Miss Sunshine”--mixed with echoes of Dustin Hoffman’s egomaniacal and cynical Hollywood producer in Barry Levinson’s brilliant political satire “Wag the Dog.”

Victor Garber, as Canadian Ambassador Ken Taylor, and “Breaking Bad’s” Bryan Cranston, as Affleck’s CIA boss Jack O’Donnell, also provide steady, authoritative performances.

That Affleck, in only his third directorial effort, can deftly switch from archived news footage back to the actual film—and from comedy to Iran’s edgy, death-could-be-behind-any-corner tension—is an amazing achievement.

Late in the film, Arkin and Goodman butcher the famous Karl Marx quote, “History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce”--and it’s an apropos quotation. The 1979 Iranian Revolution, and the hostage situation at the embassy, was a tragedy. The fact that 33 years later, the U.S. has again made itself the object of virulent hatred throughout the Middle East—obviously, no lessons learned—can only be farce.

Keep Playing the Trumpet

When the NY Knicks honored Bill Bradley by retiring his jersey, Bradley told the crowd at Madison Square Garden a story. 

 Bradley began, “At a gathering after a Knicks game in Chicago, a man asked me a question, ‘Do you really like playing basketball?’”

 “Yes, yes I do,” Bradley told the man.

 The man replied, “I know what you mean. I used to play the trumpet and we were good. Some of the guys in my band wanted to tour. But I didn’t.” 

 The man told Bradley he was afraid the life was too insecure and opted for the safer route—law school—instead. 

 Bradley then said, “I asked him, ‘Do you like the law?’”

 “Yes, but not like playing the trumpet,” the man acknowledged.


 Hip-hop artist Fare Games wants to play his metaphorical trumpet as long as possible.

 Though he adores the fellow members of his band, T.G.K.O.D.—also known as “Top Guns”—Games elected to “go solo.”

 “I want to make this a career,” Games said. “The other guys aren’t that committed.”

 Of course, like the trumpet player Bill Bradley met who opted to pursue a career in law, Games also has a non-musical contingency plan—the financial world.

 Games professes a keen interest in the stock market, and he plans to enroll in Chicago’s Roosevelt University in the fall of 2013 to major in finance.

 Nevertheless, his first love remains music.

 “This summer, I had a single on iTunes, and I shot three videos, too,” Games summarized.

 One of those videos garnered nearly 500,000 views.

 In addition, “I just dropped a mixtape [on September 28],” Games said.

 “Arcade Games,” his third mixtape, had over 1,300 views as of October 4.

 Games, 21, said, “I’m trying to get it [the latest mixtape] posted in as many places as possible to catch someone’s eye with it.”

 Games is confident, because “I put my all into this project.”

 Games, born Rifaa Muhammad, grew up on Chicago’s south side in a dangerous neighborhood.

 “There were gangbangers and drug dealers around,” Games said.

 However, he says that environment benefited him, because “they are all aspects to draw from in my music.”

 While Games was raised in that grueling setting, he wasn’t really of that world, because his mother removed him from the neighborhood public school after he completed first grade.

 She placed him in private school, where he thrived and earned a scholarship to a private, Catholic high school. Of course, Games is used to being on his own and feeling a bit out of place, since he’s the youngest of seven children—and the only boy.

 Though the high school was comprised predominantly of white students, and Games initially felt tentative, he said joining the football team—he played linebacker—helped him assimilate.

 “Up to that point, I had no white friends,” Games explained. “But that helped me meet people.”

 Games, who drew the “Fare Games” moniker while playing basketball with his cousins in Michigan, said continuing to meet people is integral to success in the music industry.

 “This business is all about networking, meeting people every day, and getting in touch with the important people,” Games said.