Jazz

Published
by
richard
3 weeks ago
in Music and Savoir Vivre
. 0 Comments

The Jazzfest Wien is very generous. They invite artists to play and people don’t even have to pay to see them. Like yesterday, when we went and saw Melody Gardot, a 23 year old singer with quite a past.

The bluesy jazz she sang was betrayed by her rather witty, self-deprecating demeanor on stage. Her band, consisting of three black-clad guys, looked like they were having a really good time too.

With the concert being free of charge, the audience was not ideal, but fortunately, the accustics in front of the city hall are remarkably crisp, where even the hushed notes were discernible. Thus, even the fucking cunt (excuse my French, but the Internets is where I can vent. In real life I’m far too timid) behind us who couldn’t stop blabbing away on her phone about the “super jazz” she was listening to right now, wasn’t that much of a problem.

Here’s photos:
Jazz
The bass player is the proud owner of the best beard of all times.

Jazz II
Melody Gardot forgot, or maybe pretended to, the chords and lyrics to a song they were about to play. Very charming.

The Martini Chronicles P.13

Published
by
richard
1 month ago
in Food and Savoir Vivre
. 0 Comments

It’s been awfully quiet round here lately, which fortunately is not due to me losing my limbs in a horrible freak-accident, but mainly due to my preoccupation with things not more important, but certainly more pressing.

Nevertheless, here’s another installment of my ‘tini Chronicles (’tini, as compared to Martini, is the way actual cocktail-insiders talk. Or it’s the way idiots talk, I haven’t quite figured that out yet).

The Martini Chronicles Pt.13

I saw the above mixer-set advertised in the Sunday papers. It was really cheap, and since I don’t adhere to the saying that those who buy cheap, buy twice, I went and bought the set. I’m now in the fortunate position to be able to stir my Martini with a professional stirring spoon, which you may think is not much different from any other long-stemmed spoon, but you’re wrong. It’s actually got the pictogram of a Martini-glass stenciled right into it. What better way to stir your Martini than with a spoon that’s totally in the spirit of the whole venture?

And, if you compare images of earlier Chronicles, you’ll notice that the new shaker is of elegantly crafted metal, which lies in stark contrast to my first shaker, a stylish but yuppie-ish white plastic thing. Not that I didn’t like it! I’ll hold it dearly in my heart for the rest of my life for being the tool that helped me lose my cocktail-virginity, and maybe, in the years to come, I will dig it out again and use it just for old times’ sake.

In the end, what I prepared was a strict 2:1, dry Vermouth, three Olive-Martini. I think I noticed a slight metallic taste during the first sip, but that could have been mere imagination.

Pink!

Published
by
richard
1 month, 2 weeks ago
in Books and Impressions
. 2 Comments

Pink Bike Stencil

Yes, it’s a photo of a pink bike stencil. And it’s being sold in scores all over the world RIGHT NOW! Liz-Books, a publishing company in France that creates all sorts of coffee-table photo-books centered around various themes wanted to include this picture in their book Pink Attitude, and being the gracious person I am, I let them.

So if you want to own a piece of a real Richard-photography-publishing, go and buy the book (you are, I assume, already in possession of real Richard-writing publishing, right?). The picture is, I think, on page 325.

(The above link to the book is for Amazon.com. If you are not living in the US of A or need the book to be shipped to the Old World for whatever reasons {including birthday presents to family living abroad, which this book would be ideal for!} use Amazon France for ordering. Bonne chance!)

Wetlands

Published
by
richard
1 month, 4 weeks ago
in Books
. 0 Comments

I finished reading Charlotte Roche’s “Feuchtgebiete” last weekend, a book that has not only sold a whopping 700,000 copies, but has also attracted attention worldwide and sold translation-rights to a whole bunch of countries.

Now, the whole premise of the novel, according to widespread opinion, is to gross out as many people as possible. Which is an explanation for why the book was sold so often, even though just about everyone who’s read it claims it’s awful and worthless.

It’s a bit of a paradox really: people buy the book because it’s supposedly the grossest shit ever, then talk about how it’s definitely the grossest shit ever. But, surprisingly, I don’t find the book half bad. Sure, it’s set out to shock people, but seriously, having spent more than 15 years on the Internets, reading about this or that bodily fluid isn’t going to shock me (or most other people who pretend to). And, there is a quite a bit more to it than gross shit.

It’s basically the story of a dysfunctional family and the narrator, Helen Memel, happens to be the product of said family. The point of women being the victims of personal hygiene propaganda is a recurring theme and rings quite true, and even though it’s the center of discussions with Roche, it’s by far not the most prominent issue addressed in the book (but just happens to be a topic people react sensitively to. Zeitgeist, if you will).

In the end, the book is about alienation, broken families and what it’s like growing up as a girl nowadays. Hyperbole, as a stylistic device, is mostly found in poetry, so people are not used to finding it in prose, but “Feuchtgebiete” is, in its depiction of crass alternative hygiene practices and sexual acts usually unfit for girls Helen’s age, one big hyperbole. Which is what most readers didn’t see or didn’t care to see.

The book is not smut and it’s not porn either and while it’s one of the rare occasions of a woman being the frank narrator, it’s nothing new. But it’s a sad little story which didn’t feel like a total waste of time, and that’s enough for me.

25 seconds of hail

Published
by
richard
2 months, 1 week ago
in Boredom and Impressions
. 1 Comment

Living directly under the roof has its perks. Like knowing when it’s time get up, which would be the time the pigeons start sliding down your windows and are making a whole lot of that fucking early-bird-catches-the-worm noise.

Or in winter, when it gets really cold, forcing you to turn up that heater. Or in summer, when it gets so hot, you can either decide to stay in and perish or decide to go out and return after dark.

But living directly under the roof also has its downsides. Like when there’s some nice and healthy hail and your windows, slanted of course, are not made of bullet-proof glass and you’ve got a certain history with leaking windows and roofs anyway.

Which was the case today. So please, enjoy being in our shoes for the next 25 seconds (plural is no sign for delusions of grandeur, I’m actually referring to my girlfriend and me):

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