trailerpilot

Ugh.

Yesterday, I:

• Walked all over downtown Chicago with my old roommate from Seattle photographing architecture
• Was disgusted per usual at the preponderance of daytime public stumbling-drunkenness and affiliated vomiting, fistfights, and generally ignorant behavior in the (feigned) name of cultural heritage; was also nearly pissed on in the men’s room at Union Station
• Sang Berlin’s Take My Breath Away at a karaoke birthday party

I also saw the show Becoming Edvard Munch:  Influence, Anxiety, and Myth at the Art Institute of Chicago.  Due to a lazy lunch my friend and I had only an hour in the galleries, but it was still worth the $17 (twenty bones for you out-of-towners).  I’ve loved Munch since high school; as has been noted here and elsewhere, what really makes this show kill is how succinctly it explains how Munch and who he was fit and didn’t fit the fin de siècle European scene.

Edvard Munch, Rue de Rivoli, 1891.

If you don’t live in Chicago at least take two minutes to peep Roberta Smith’s audio slide show at the New York Times.