When David Lynch tweeted that negotiations had broken down and that he was walking away, I had a load of questions. The first thirty-seven of these questions all consisted of the word 'WHY?' screamed heavenwards at an uncaring God as I stood shirtless in a rainstorm. The thirty-eighth question was 'Well, what now?'
I have long been an admirer of the work of the Cartier Foundation. Now as we are able to look back at thirty years of this most inspired organisation, we can truly see the incredible vision of its founder Alain Dominique Perrin, its director Hervé Chandez and the hard work of my dear (and sadly departed) friend Sylvie Dumas who for many years provided the financial structure to enable the foundation to commission art without any boundaries.
Aesthetically speaking, Hollywood is in terminal decline, its output trash. When lauded American film reviewer Pauline Kael asked why movies were so bad for an essay which appeared in The New Yorker in 1980, she drew attention to the sudden disconnect with film-making aesthetics precipitated by Reaganomics...
There exists a place where sounds build to magical effect, forming imaginative landscapes of psychedelic pop. Orchestrating such a colourful convergence of sound is Boise, Idaho based Youth Lagoon (moniker of Trevor Powers) whose previous album The Year of Hibernation, impressed with minimalist charm.
If I was on benefits, I'd have a bowl bulging with fruits from my loins and a free nest, for my troubles. Likewise, if I was a double-barrled posho, I'd have Jaspers and Hermiones coming out of every orifice, before you could say "sun-blushed tomato." We middling types pay their taxes and remain sprogless.