Pablo Picasso’s Two Favorite Recipes: Eel Stew & Omelette Tortilla Niçoise

picasso stew

Back in 1964, Pablo Picas­so shared with Vogue’s food colum­nist Ninette Lyon two of his favorite recipes — one for Eel Stew, the oth­er for Omelette Tor­tilla Niçoise. If you live in the South of France, as Picas­so did, the recipes prob­a­bly won’t be entire­ly for­eign to you. But if you aren’t so lucky, you might want to add these recipes, now reprint­ed by Vogue, to your culi­nary buck­et list.

Below, we’ve high­light­ed the ingre­di­ents for the recipes. But, for step-by-step direc­tions on how to pre­pare the dish­es, head over to Vogue itself.

For more recipes from cul­tur­al icons — Hem­ing­way, Tol­stoy, Alice B. Tok­las, Jane Austen, David Lynch, Miles Davis, etc. — head to the bot­tom of this page.

Eel Stew for Four Peo­ple

6 table­spoons olive oil
6 table­spoons but­ter
12 small white onions
1 tea­spoon sug­ar
2 yel­low onions, chopped
12 mush­rooms
⅓ pound salt pork, cubed
2 shal­lots, minced
2 cloves gar­lic, minced
2 eels of about 1 pound each, cut into four- to five-inch sec­tions
1 bot­tle of good red wine
1 table­spoon flour
Salt, pep­per, cayenne pep­per
Bou­quet gar­ni: thyme, bay leaf, pars­ley, fen­nel, and a small branch of cel­ery

Omelette Tor­tilla Niçoise for Four Peo­ple
6 table­spoons olive oil
1 large onion
4 pep­pers, red and green
3 toma­toes
2 table­spoons wine vine­gar
8 eggs
Salt and pep­per

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ernest Hemingway’s Favorite Ham­burg­er Recipe

Leo Tolstoy’s Fam­i­ly Recipe for Mac­a­roni and Cheese

David Lynch Teach­es You to Cook His Quinoa Recipe in a Weird, Sur­re­al­ist Video

Thomas Jefferson’s Hand­writ­ten Vanil­la Ice Cream Recipe

Alice B. Tok­las Reads Her Famous Recipe for Hashish Fudge (1963)

Mar­i­lyn Monroe’s Hand­writ­ten Turkey-and-Stuff­ing Recipe

Read Film­mak­er Luis Buñuel’s Recipe for the Per­fect Dry Mar­ti­ni, and Then See Him Make One

Miles Davis’ “South Side Chica­go Chili Mack” Recipe Revealed

The Recipes of Icon­ic Authors: Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Roald Dahl, the Mar­quis de Sade & More

Professor Michael Stipe: R.E.M.‘s Frontman Now Teaching Art Classes at NYU

 

stipe at nyu

Admir­ers of Michael Stipe will know that he before he became a famous rock star with R.E.M., he was an art stu­dent at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Geor­gia. He may have skipped the degree, but he nev­er stopped mak­ing things, includ­ing the pho­tog­ra­phy and design of the band’s album cov­ers, the light­ing and stage design of their live shows, and sev­er­al of their videos. Now a rock star emer­i­tus, Stipe makes things full time in an offi­cial capac­i­ty as the vis­it­ing artist and schol­ar in res­i­dence at the NYU Stein­hardt Depart­ment of Art. He has recent­ly curat­ed an “evolv­ing exhi­bi­tion project” called NEW SIGHTS, NEW NOISE, writes Eric Alper, “pro­duced col­lab­o­ra­tive­ly with Jonathan Berg­er” and includ­ing “con­tri­bu­tions from spe­cial guests Dou­glas Cou­p­land, Jef­fer­son Hack, Peach­es,” and oth­ers.

Appear­ing at NYU’s 80 WSE Gallery, the exhi­bi­tion also includes work from Stipe’s stu­dents. That’s right, Michael Stipe is a “shiny hap­py” col­lege pro­fes­sor, as this pun-hap­py Spin arti­cle tells us, and the show comes from his class assign­ments: “Each week, Stipe and a dif­fer­ent spe­cial guest will give the class’ 18 stu­dents a prompt, and they’ll respond with ‘100 images and gifs, both found and made, all of which will be uploaded to a pri­vate class web­site.’” It’s all cen­tered around themes Stipe has pur­sued for some time, as you can see from his Tum­blr. He describes the project on R.E.M.’s web­site as refer­ring to “the glut and onslaught of infor­ma­tion made avail­able by the inter­net, often with­out con­text or author­ship; the dis­pro­por­tion­ate and impul­sive reac­tions that it pro­vokes, and the reck­less cyn­i­cism of a 24 hour news cycle.” Read much more about the project at Alper’s blog, and see much more of Stipe’s work—with sculp­ture, paint­ing, and film—at the Creator’s Project video above from 2011.

pho­to by David Shankbone.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Why R.E.M.’s 1991 Out of Time May Be the “Most Polit­i­cal­ly Impor­tant Album” Ever

Two Very Ear­ly Con­cert Films of R.E.M., Live in ‘81 and ‘82

R.E.M Plays “Radio Free Europe” on Their Nation­al Tele­vi­sion Debut on The David Let­ter­man Show (1983)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Breaking Bad Illustrated by Gonzo Artist Ralph Steadman

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Sure, I suf­fered from Break­ing Bad with­draw­al syn­drome after the show’s excel­lent fifth and final sea­son. Symp­toms includ­ed watch­ing episodes of Metás­ta­sis, the Colom­bian telen­ov­ela-style, Span­ish lan­guage remake; obses­sive­ly read­ing news about upcom­ing spin-off, Bet­ter Call Saul; and wish­ing the hoax about a Sea­son 6 was true. The con­di­tion is wide­spread, shared by fans of oth­er cult hits like Dex­ter and The Wire. Many take to the alter­nate uni­vers­es of fan fic­tion and art, and who can blame them? We become as engrossed in the lives of tele­vi­sion char­ac­ters as we do mem­bers of our own fam­i­ly, though I feel for you if your fam­i­ly is as dys­func­tion­al as Wal­ter White’s.

jessepinkmanralphsteadmansldkjf

The unlike­ly drug king­pin from sub­ur­ban Albu­querque appealed to us, I think, because he seemed so non­de­script , so painful­ly ordinary—a domes­ti­cat­ed every­man, until des­per­a­tion and hubris turned him into the feared and respect­ed Heisen­berg. No small amount of wish ful­fill­ment for audi­ences there. Break­ing Bad’s world of hyper­vi­o­lence and insan­i­ty resem­bles the dan­ger­ous real world of des­per­a­does, sleazy oppor­tunists, and mer­ce­nar­ies that Hunter S. Thomp­son fear­less­ly doc­u­ment­ed, and so it makes per­fect sense that Thomp­son illus­tra­tor Ralph Stead­man would be cho­sen to draw six cov­ers for an upcom­ing release of all five sea­sons of the show on Blu-ray (the last sea­son is bro­ken in two, the way it was broad­cast). At the top of the post, see Steadman’s glow­er­ing ren­di­tion of Walt/Heisenberg him­self. Just above, see a dazed and con­fused Jesse Pinkman, and below, the blast­ed vis­age of their sup­pli­er turned arch-ene­my, Gus Fring. (The com­pli­cat­ed, and baf­fling­ly much-despised Skyler does not get her own cov­er.)

guschickenmanfringlkjsdf

Steadman’s illus­tra­tions for Thompson’s Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, a “sur­re­al drug-fueled road trip” of a book, pre­fig­ure the law­less lim­i­nal spaces of Break­ing Bad’s sur­re­al desert land­scapes (remem­ber the tur­tle?). His ren­der­ings of a crazed Thomp­son on his “sav­age jour­ney to the heart of the Amer­i­can dream” per­haps even inspired the dan­ger­ous­ly unhinged jour­ney Walt and Jesse take togeth­er. Com­ing in Feb­ru­ary, the Stead­man-illus­trat­ed Blu-ray col­lec­tion is a lim­it­ed edi­tion and will, Dan­ger­ous Minds informs us, “be sold exclu­sive­ly by Zavvi.com ($30 bucks each). Pre-order is going on now but be fore­warned, the Gus “The Chick­en Man” Fring edi­tion for sea­son four (as well as Mike Ehrmantraut’s sea­son five and Hank Schrader’s show finale sea­son) have already sold-out.” Lots of Break­ing Bad addicts out there, des­per­ate for a fix. If you’re one of them, act fast, though it’s like­ly Stead­man will even­tu­al­ly offer prints for sale (and maybe mugs and t‑shirts, too) on his web­site. See the oth­er three cov­ers over at Dan­ger­ous Minds.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch the Orig­i­nal Audi­tion Tapes for Break­ing Bad Before the Final Sea­son Debuts

The Sci­ence of Break­ing Bad: Pro­fes­sor Don­na Nel­son Explains How the Show Gets it Right

Bryan Cranston Reads Shelley’s Son­net “Ozy­man­dias” in Omi­nous Teas­er for Break­ing Bad’s Last Sea­son

How Hunter S. Thomp­son — and Psilo­cy­bin — Influ­enced the Art of Ralph Stead­man, Cre­at­ing the “Gonzo” Style

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Typed Portraits of Literary Legends: Kerouac, Saramago, Bukowski & More

Artists have used all sorts of odd media to cre­ate por­traits, every­thing from gui­tar picks to dice to wood­en eggs. Add to this list Brazil­ian type artist Álvaro Fran­ca, who uses the type­writer. Instead of com­pos­ing lit­er­ary por­traits of his heroes, Fran­ca types out lit­er­al por­traits. The prin­ci­ple of the pic­tures are the same grey-scale print­ing used in news­pa­pers or, if you spent time in the com­put­er lab in the 1990s, those dot matrix images that were such the rage among com­put­er nerds. Using a com­put­er, Fran­ca breaks the image down into dis­crete pix­els and adds one or more key­strokes to that pix­el. ‘I’ and ‘O’ seem to work for lighter greys while visu­al­ly dense let­ters like ‘x’and “m” are used for the dark­er end of the spec­trum.

As he writes in on his web­site:

Type­writ­ten Por­traits is an exper­i­men­tal art project. Dur­ing my exchange in the Cam­bridge School of Art, I devel­oped a tech­nique for imag­ing gray scale with the type­writer and, from there, I made por­traits of five of my favorite authors in lit­er­a­ture who worked on type­writ­ers. The series is still ongo­ing and there are plans for five more pic­tures.

You can see a time-lapse video of Fran­ca cre­at­ing a por­trait of beat icon Jack Ker­ouac above. And below you can see a few more pic­tures includ­ing Charles Bukows­ki and Jose Sara­m­a­go here.

bukowski typed

 

via Boing Boing

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing lots of pic­tures of vice pres­i­dents with octo­pus­es on their heads.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Draw­ings of Jean-Paul Sartre

James Joyce, With His Eye­sight Fail­ing, Draws a Sketch of Leopold Bloom (1926)

Jorge Luis Borges, After Going Blind, Draws a Self-Por­trait

The Adventures of Famed Illustrator Gustave Doré Presented in a Fantasic(al) Cutout Animation

When we fea­tured his illu­mi­na­tion of Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven,” we called Gus­tave Doré “one of the busiest, most in-demand artists of the 19th cen­tu­ry,” who “made his name illus­trat­ing works by such authors as Rabelais, Balzac, Mil­ton, and Dante.” His hand may have giv­en a visu­al dimen­sion to a num­ber of revered texts, but what of the man him­self? For the deep­est insight into an artist, we should look to the works of art he inspires. In the case of the cutout ani­mat­ed film above, Doré not only pro­vides the inspi­ra­tion but plays, in a sense, the star­ring role. L’imaginaire au pou­voir offers us a por­trait of the artist as a two-dimen­sion­al man, stum­bling into haunt­ing drawn-and-cut-out realms straight from his own imag­i­na­tion.

“The film was cre­at­ed by Vin­cent Piani­na and Loren­zo Papace of Le Petit Écho Malade and fea­tures music by Ödland,” writes EDW Lynch at Laugh­ing Squid (a site that pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured Le Petit Écho Malade’s music video for Ödland’s “Øster­søen”) “It is a pro­mo, Lynch adds, for ‘Gus­tave Doré (1832–1883): Mas­ter of Imag­i­na­tion,’ an ongo­ing exhi­bi­tion of Doré’s work at Musée d’Orsay in Paris through May 11, 2014.” Though Doré, by all accounts, lived a fair­ly event­ful life, he had to have spent a great deal of it slav­ing painstak­ing­ly away with his wood engrav­ing tools. The same goes for any pro­duc­er of such vivid artis­tic visions—but I sus­pect that all of them have to go on this kind of har­row­ing jour­ney to the cen­ter of their soul now and again. Here, Piani­na and Papace have, with Doré’s very mate­ri­als, cre­at­ed a jour­ney into the inner realm that still gives them life today. And they’ve added a healthy dose of 21st-cen­tu­ry humor for good mea­sure.

via Laugh­ing Squid

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ter­ry Gilliam Reveals the Secrets of Mon­ty Python Ani­ma­tions: A 1974 How-To Guide

Gus­tave Doré’s Splen­did Illus­tra­tions of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” (1884)

Vin­tage Film: Watch Hen­ri Matisse Sketch and Make His Famous Cut-Outs (1946)

Gus­tave Doré’s Dra­mat­ic Illus­tra­tions of Dante’s Divine Com­e­dy

Gus­tave Doré’s Exquis­ite Engrav­ings of Cer­vantes’ Don Quixote

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Paintings of Miles Davis

Ask enough peo­ple to name their favorite artist of any kind, and soon­er rather than lat­er, some­one will name Miles Davis. The trum­peter and jazz auteur behind — or, strict­ly speak­ing, up in front of — such unchal­lenged mas­ter­pieces as Birth of the Cool, Kind of BlueSketch­es of Spain, and Bitch­es Brew has long since ascend­ed to the pan­theon of Amer­i­can music, but that doesn’t mean we should over­look his oth­er artis­tic achieve­ments. Achieve­ments as a painter, for instance: true fans know that Davis’ visu­al art appears on a few of his album cov­ers, such as that of 1989’s Amand­la right below.  “Paint­ing, long a Davis avo­ca­tion, is becom­ing a prof­itable side­line,” says a con­tem­po­rary Los Ange­les Times arti­cle. “In col­lab­o­ra­tion with his girl­friend, Jo Gel­bard, he did the art­work for his new album; the cov­er is an impres­sive self-por­trait using the reds and greens he seems to favor.”

You can see more of Davis’ visu­al art over at Dan­ger­ous Minds and The Dai­ly Beast. The so-called Prince of Dark­ness “didn’t begin to draw and paint in earnest until he was in his mid-fifties, dur­ing the ear­ly 1980s and a peri­od of musi­cal inac­tiv­i­ty,” writes Tara McGin­ley. ”

Miles being Miles, he didn’t mere­ly dab­ble, but made cre­at­ing art as much a part of his life as mak­ing music in his final decade,” result­ing in “a sharp, bold and mas­cu­line mix­ture of Kandin­sky, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Picas­so and African trib­al art.” Just last year, Insight Edi­tions pub­lished Miles Davis: The Col­lect­ed Art­work, final­ly bring­ing togeth­er the fruits of the cre­ativ­i­ty the trum­peter could com­mand even with­out his horn. Count­less young jazz play­ers claim Davis as an influ­ence to this day, and they’ll con­tin­ue to do so as long as jazz itself per­sists, but I do won­der how soon young painters will as well.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Miles Davis Plays Music from Kind of Blue Live in 1959, Intro­duc­ing a Com­plete­ly New Style of Jazz

Watch Ani­mat­ed Sheet Music for Miles Davis’ “So What,” Char­lie Parker’s “Con­fir­ma­tion” & Coltrane’s “Giant Steps”

The Night When Miles Davis Opened for the Grate­ful Dead in 1970: Hear the Com­plete Record­ings

Miles Davis’ “South Side Chica­go Chili Mack” Recipe Revealed

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How Edward Hopper “Storyboarded” His Iconic Painting Nighthawks

Nighthawks1

Edward Hop­per’s Nighthawks (1942) does­n’t just evoke a cer­tain stripe of mid-cen­tu­ry, after-hours, big-city Amer­i­can lone­li­ness; it has more or less come to stand for the feel­ing itself. But as with most images that passed so ful­ly into the realm of icon­hood, we all too eas­i­ly for­get that the paint­ing did­n’t sim­ply emerge com­plete, ready to embed itself in the zeit­geist. Robin Cem­balest at ART­news has a post on how Edward Hop­per “sto­ry­board­ed” Nighthawks, find­ing and sketch­ing out mod­els for those three melan­cholic cus­tomers (one of whom you can see in an ear­ly ren­der­ing above), that whole­some young atten­dant in white, and the all-night din­er (which you can see come togeth­er in chalk on paper below) in which they find refuge.

Nighthawks2

These “19 stud­ies for Nighthawks,” writes Cem­balest, “reveal how Hop­per chore­o­graphed his voyeuris­tic scene of the night­time con­ver­gence of the man, a cou­ple, and a serv­er in the eerie Deco din­er, refin­ing every nuance of the coun­ter­top, the fig­ures, the archi­tec­ture, and the effects of the flu­o­res­cent light­ing.”

In each sketch, more pieces have fall­en into place: a din­er assumes their posi­tion, the light finds its angle, the per­spec­tive shifts to that of an out­sider on the dark­ened street. Cem­balest quotes Whit­ney cura­tor Carter Fos­ter describ­ing the final prod­uct as a “mar­velous demon­stra­tion of both extreme speci­fici­ty and near abstract com­po­si­tion­al sum­ma­tion on the same sur­face beguil­ing­ly [which] reflects how empir­i­cal obser­va­tion and imag­i­na­tion coex­ist­ed in Hopper’s head.”

Nighthawks3

Despite how many ele­ments of the real world Hop­per stud­ied to cre­ate Nighthawks, it ulti­mate­ly depicts no real place. The painter him­self posed for the male fig­ures, and his wife mod­eled for the female. As for the locale, seen in the final draw­ing just above, Cem­balest notes that “after years of research and schol­ar­ship, experts have deter­mined that Nighthawks was not inspired by one spe­cif­ic din­er. Rather, it was a com­pos­ite of wedge-shaped inter­sec­tions around Green­wich Avenue. Its curv­ing prow seems part­ly inspired by the Flat­iron Build­ing.” In a way, it almost seemed too real­is­ti­cal­ly New York to actu­al­ly exist in New York. Hop­per paint­ed a dis­til­la­tion of a sense of Amer­i­can place, and like many Amer­i­can places, I’ve nev­er quite known whether I’d love to drop in at the Nighthawks din­er (though I’d have to find a front door first), or whether I should count myself lucky that life has­n’t rel­e­gat­ed me to it. You can learn more about the fas­ci­nat­ing sto­ry­board­ing of Nighthawks at Art News and see many more sketch­es. Speak­ing of the sketch­es, they come cour­tesy of The Whit­ney Muse­um of Amer­i­can Art.

Nighthawks4

via ART­News

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Painters Paint­ing: The Defin­i­tive Doc­u­men­tary Por­trait of the New York Art World (1940–1970)

Jack­son Pol­lock 51: Short Film Cap­tures the Painter Cre­at­ing Abstract Expres­sion­ist Art

William S. Bur­roughs Shows You How to Make “Shot­gun Art”

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

A Sneak Preview of Haruki Murakami’s Forthcoming Illustrated Novel, The Strange Library

illustrated murkami

Quick note: If you just fin­ished read­ing Col­or­less Tsuku­ru Taza­ki and His Years of Pil­grim­age, and if you’re now han­ker­ing for some more Muraka­mi, you won’t have to wait very long. In Decem­ber, his next book, a 96 page novel­la called The Strange Library, will be pub­lished by Knopf. And already, thanks to The Guardian, you can get a sneak pre­view of the illus­trat­ed edi­tion. When you enter the Guardian gallery, make sure you click the arrows in the top right cor­ner of the first image to see the illus­tra­tions in a larg­er for­mat. The book can be pre-ordered here.

In the mean­time, we have a few Muraka­mi items (sto­ries, music, film, etc.) to keep you busy this fall.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read 5 Sto­ries By Haru­ki Muraka­mi Free Online

A 56-Song Playlist of Music in Haru­ki Murakami’s Nov­els: Ray Charles, Glenn Gould, the Beach Boys & More

Pat­ti Smith Reviews Haru­ki Murakami’s New Nov­el, Col­or­less Tsuku­ru Taza­ki and His Years of Pil­grim­age

In Search of Haru­ki Muraka­mi: A Doc­u­men­tary Intro­duc­tion to Japan’s Great Post­mod­ernist Nov­el­ist

Haru­ki Murakami’s Pas­sion for Jazz: Dis­cov­er the Novelist’s Jazz Playlist, Jazz Essay & Jazz Bar

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