It may seem to some that this bit of Bushwick madness invading the Lower East Side is attempting to turn comedy inside out, but really a return to comedic roots is what’s at stake here. Old Man Hustle is a staple comedy hole-in-the-wall and this is simply the circus from the bizarro world returning for some third party narrative on the, ahem, finer points of life. Mr. Silver, who conducts ringside calamity on a biweekly basis at the French leave-your-senses Bizarre in Bushwick, arrives to screeches and howls at the Old Man Hustle for a more intimate affair and a more narrative approach to put-it-out-there outrageousness.
Not quite content tho with classic standup, a man may loose his shirt.
The humor has bite so that bouts of nervous energy suffuse the room. Every one of these men finds time to mention their wives or in one case a long trail of random encounters, as if to pay homage before daring to be quite the tasteless brute with words. We skate round and round in the millennial mind until arriving at some seeming insignificance that does the trick for laughter or grief or both. The little things under absurd scrutiny, that make it all matter so much less.
The waning days of winter have a peculiar effect on the restless art stragglers who just manage to flee the stuffiness of their lofts for the kick off of open studio season. Like a support group in the bitter cold, eye spy what joe and jane have been up to cooped up during this desolate Bushwick winter.
The Bushwick open studios started with a lonesome untapped cities tweet –
“Is this controversial art exhibit by@FuchsProjectstoo much too soon after the murder of a Hasidic landlord?”
And so the attendees launch themselves into a morbid orbit of grizzly wax, bits of bone, uncanny juxtapositions, oil paintings on strips of cardboard whose chemicals will eventually rot them off the walls. They congregate on what looks to be the porch from a particularly depressing Faulkner novel and mill about cartoonsie interpretations of the Nagasaki bombing.
And yet, from a whittled thumb and east asian motif carpets etched in warped plywood to a set of colorful splashes even among the most morbid shapes, subtle juxtapositions do launch much needed relevance and yearning into an arts dialog largely catering to collectors and the overtly ambitious. This assembly encountered in the February dark calls attention to the tacked-on existence underpinning these rickety installations. A bit of self-conscious morbidity can’t hurt when the week saw attempts to resuscitate a notion of blackness from the tragically hip put-to-Bed-Stuy. Naturally for that discussion everyone came out swinging, including the landed gentri-(purely as prefix, we understand), slinging their Brooklyn growing up stories – “when I used to run around the way…” until some nasties found a way to end it with spray paint.
Valentines Day can be a bit stressful for those searching. It’s best to approach such a day completely randomly. A week ago the preparations were already massively underway. So much red, so much pink and so much advice that will teach any man how to cry. But then again hearts and cupids can be fun and even a bit mischievous. Something, though seems to have gotten a hold of retail to don a certain lavishness not seen before. While performing a bit of predatory shopping happened upon a sight. Is it perhaps because we are all already so interconnected?
Sorry for the blur but it really does say Crush-worthy * D E A L S *. This kind of cheekiness is genuine public service to relieve some of the pressures associated with our official day for love. The excitement already started to build when #ActivistPickUpLines started trending:
Suddenly an invite popped up for an event at the Chocolate Factory in Bushwick that promised less thinking about me + you with a keen mission to fundraise for a school in Kathmandu. Quite romantic search for love on a mission to Kathmandu, who could resist? Whipped up some chocolate treats and headed to the chocolate factory in Bushwick. The dance floor was in full swing, we all had a delicious time.
Find out more about the Kathmandu project in Nepal from the 108 Lives Project. The sugar free / dairy free chocolate recipe that sustained us that night, which might sustain your journey to Kathmandu: