Salvador Dalí Reveals the Secrets of His Trademark Moustache (1954)

in Art, Random | November 19th, 2012

In a 2010 poll, Sal­vador Dalí’s facial hair was vot­ed the most famous mous­tache of all time. The flam­boy­ant mous­tache was part of his schtick, there’s no deny­ing that. But some have assigned a deep­er mean­ing to it. The Wike­pe­dia entry for Dalí attrib­uted the facial hair to 17th-cen­tu­ry Span­ish mas­ter painter Diego Velázquez (see image). And yet per­haps the influ­ence was more lit­er­ary than painter­ly. Appear­ing on the game show The Name’s the Same in Jan­u­ary, 1954, Dalí was asked (at the 4:00 mark) whether the stache was a joke. To which the Span­ish painter respond­ed, “It’s the most seri­ous part of my per­son­al­i­ty. It’s a very sim­ple Hun­gar­i­an mous­tache. Mr. Mar­cel Proust used the same kind of pomade for this mous­tache.” And there you have it, the artis­tic influ­ence of the world’s most famous facial hair.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sal­vador Dalí’s 100 Illus­tra­tions of Dante’s The Divine Com­e­dy

Sal­vador Dali Gets Sur­re­al with Mike Wal­lace (1958)

Q: Sal­vador Dalí, Are You a Crack­pot? A: No, I’m Just Almost Crazy (1969)

A Tour Inside Sal­vador Dalí’s Labyrinthine Span­ish Home

The Best Music to Write By, Part II: Your Favorites Brought Together in a Special Playlist

in Literature, Music | November 19th, 2012

Last Fri­day, we raised the top­ic of writ­ing to music, and we asked all of you out there what music you write to, if you write to music at all. The num­ber and vari­ety of your sug­ges­tions was a lit­tle over­whelm­ing, and very wel­come, and pro­vid­ed a wealth of rec­om­men­da­tions to put togeth­er into a playlist. There was quite a lot of agree­ment among you and a near-con­sen­sus on instru­men­tal music over vocal. But it also came as no sur­prise that Open Cul­ture read­ers’ tastes span a range of gen­res, cul­tures, and peri­ods and that every­one who wrote in seemed to raise the bar a lit­tle high­er for drop-dead gor­geous, med­i­ta­tive com­po­si­tions.

Out of all of your rec­om­men­da­tions, I have made a selec­tion of six­teen artists that I believe is rep­re­sen­ta­tive. (Apolo­gies if your sug­ges­tions didn’t make the cut—there’s bound to be some bias here). What­ev­er your pos­ture and pref­er­ence for vol­ume lev­els, light­ing arrange­ments, or time of day or night, you might try on each of these while you tap away at your lat­est piece of work. Who knows? You could strike a new rhythm, hit an unfa­mil­iar groove and shake out of a too-famil­iar rut, or shift the tem­po just so, change per­spec­tive, tem­per an unruly mood….

Or maybe just find some cool new music to dig while you cook din­ner.

Last week’s post began with Miles Davis’s In a Silent Way, which I believe inspired some jazz lovers to com­ment. Komiska sug­gest­ed the top-notch Mod­ern Jazz Quartet’s ren­di­tion of “Lone­ly Woman” (above).

Bill Evans’ name also came up quite a bit in your sug­ges­tions. Below is his “You Must Believe in Spring.”

Min­i­mal­ist com­pos­er Steve Reich, and oth­er con­tem­po­raries of his like Philip Glass, got many a men­tion. Below is a live per­for­mance of the first two sec­tions of Reich’s Music for 18 Musi­cians.

Ambi­ent syn­the­siz­er music by the likes of the Scot­tish duo Boards of Cana­da, Tan­ger­ine Dream, for­mer Cocteau Twin Robin Guthrie, and Bri­an Eno came up quite a bit as well. Com­menter Emma Gray Munthe men­tioned the work of less famous but very influ­en­tial elec­tron­ic com­pos­er Jean Michel Jarre. Lis­ten to his ground­break­ing album Equinoxe below:

A few of you point­ed out that any kind of music serves to dis­tract from your process. Cheeky Michael West said as much and more how­ev­er with his lacon­ic ref­er­ence to John Cage’s 4’33″, the ulti­mate min­i­mal­ist com­po­si­tion. Below, lis­ten to (or observe, rather) an orches­tral inter­pre­ta­tion of Cage’s con­cept:

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Stanford “Election 2012” Course Draws to Close with a Post Mortem and Predictions

in Current Affairs, Politics, Stanford | November 18th, 2012

Worth a quick men­tion: Stan­ford’s Elec­tion 2012 course (pre­vi­ous­ly men­tioned here) wrapped up with a post-mortem. It starts with Steve Schmidt, a for­mer John McCain and George W Bush advi­sor, giv­ing a fair­ly blunt assess­ment of where the Repub­li­can Par­ty stands right now. (The video above starts with his assess­ment.) Then Tom Stey­er, an asset man­ag­er, phil­an­thropist and envi­ron­men­tal­ist active in Demo­c­rat pol­i­tics, explains why Oba­ma’s vic­to­ry is the prod­uct of trends (not nec­es­sar­i­ly healthy ones) already seen in Cal­i­for­nia pol­i­tics for the past decade. And Simon Jack­man, a Stan­ford prof immersed in polling, shows why data mat­ters and Nate Sil­ver (538 blog) got things right.

The rolling con­ver­sa­tion is mod­er­at­ed by David Kennedy (Pulitzer Prize-win­ning his­to­ri­an), Rob Reich, and Jim Stey­er. We’ve pro­vid­ed YouTube links to the remain­ing lec­tures below. You can also find them on iTunes. Plus we’ve  cat­a­logued Elec­tion 2012 in our col­lec­tion of 550 Free Online Cours­es.

• Mark McK­in­non, Chris Lehane, and Gary Segu­ra on the state of the 2012 Pres­i­den­tial Elec­tion
• David Kennedy on the his­to­ry of the Amer­i­can pres­i­den­cy
• John Tay­lor and Ken Arrow on the econ­o­my and the elec­tion
• Pamela Kar­lan and Good­win Liu dis­cuss the elec­tion’s impact on the Supreme Court
• Michael Arma­cost and Mike McCur­ry dis­cuss for­eign pol­i­cy
• John Hen­nessy (Stan­ford’s pres­i­dent) and experts take a glob­al look at the elec­tion
• Bruce Cain and Gavin New­som dis­cuss the future of Cal­i­for­nia pol­i­tics

How a Crossword Puzzle is Made: Behind the Scenes with The New York Times

in Media | November 17th, 2012

If you still sub­scribe to old-fash­ioned print news­pa­pers, chances are it’s because you like doing cross­word puz­zles and putting pen(cil) to paper. If you fall into this camp, we give you this: Will Shortz, the cross­word puz­zle edi­tor for The New York Times (and the only known per­son to hold a col­lege degree in enig­ma­tol­ogy) pre­sent­ing a quick, behind-the-scenes look at how the NYT puz­zle gets made. Off we go.

The Best Music to Write By: Give Us Your Recommendations

in Books, Literature, Music, Writing | November 16th, 2012

Writ­ing is hard. It’s hard to begin, hard to con­tin­ue, hard to fin­ish. To write suc­cess­ful­ly and con­sis­tent­ly requires an alchem­i­cal com­bi­na­tion of dis­ci­pline and inspi­ra­tion so per­son­al that read­ing advice on the sub­ject amounts to watch­ing some­one else die to learn how it’s done. And while it often feels enlight­en­ing to read about the habits of, say, Stein­beck or Austen, their meth­ods are non-trans­fer­able. You’ve got to find your own way. So it is with writ­ing to music. It’s always there in the back­ground, goad­ing you on qui­et­ly. Not every­one writes to music; not every­one can. But a good many do, includ­ing Wired con­trib­u­tor Steve Sil­ber­man who calls the prac­tice one of many rit­u­als writ­ers use “to evoke that elu­sive flow of inspi­ra­tion.”

Sil­ber­man just wrote a piece for Neu­roTribes in which he sur­veyed ten authors on their favorite music to write by. One of Silberman’s own choic­es, Miles Davis’s In a Silent Way (above), is one I’m steal­ing. With its bril­liant assem­blage of musi­cians and haunt­ing mood­i­ness it sets the per­fect tone for my process. Also, there’s no singing. Like Sil­ber­man, I can’t com­pete with a wise, wit­ty lyri­cist (he men­tions Elvis Costel­lo, I pre­fer Mor­ris­sey). In Sil­ber­man’s piece, John Schwartz, a New York Times reporter, lis­tens to noth­ing. Jane Hirschfield, a chan­cel­lor of the Acad­e­my of Amer­i­can Poets, likes David Byrne, Dylan’s Mod­ern Times, and Gillians Welch’s The Har­row and the Har­vest. Wired con­tribut­ing edi­tor David Wol­man makes a playlist of most­ly indie-pop songs enti­tled “Write the Book!” His main cri­te­ri­on for the songs he choos­es: DO NOT BE BORING! My default writ­ing music is exem­pli­fied by Aus­tralian three-piece instru­men­tal rock band Dirty Three (below).

So now it’s your turn, read­ers. Do you write to music? If so, what is it? What artists/composers/albums help you find your rhythm and why? Can you stand lyrics in the music you write by or no? Leave your selec­tions in the com­ments. On Mon­day, we’ll com­pile them in an arti­cle and leave you with a great Open Cul­ture playlist. Whether you find some­thing you can steal or not, it should be a fun exer­cise.

*See our fol­low-up post with a list of your favorites here

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

Hitchcock (Anthony Hopkins) Pitches Janet Leigh (Scarlett Johansson) on the Famous Shower Scene

in Film | November 16th, 2012

First we have a film, the 1960 piece — some would say pin­na­cle — of psy­cho­log­i­cal hor­ror, Psy­cho. Then we have a man, Alfred Hitch­cock, Psy­cho’s direc­tor, the famous­ly man­nered but seem­ing­ly trou­bled mas­ter crafts­man of mid­cen­tu­ry cin­e­mat­ic sus­pense. Then we have a book, Stephen Rebel­lo’s Alfred Hitch­cock and the Mak­ing of Psy­cho, which Antho­ny Perkins, who played the psy­cho, called “required read­ing not only for Psy­cho-files, but for any­one inter­est­ed in the back­stage world of movie-cre­ation.” And, next week, we’ll have a new peri­od dra­ma, set dur­ing the pro­duc­tion of the film, based on the book, and cen­tered on the man. It’s impos­si­ble to imag­ine the afi­ciona­do of twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry motion pic­tures who would­n’t want to watch Antho­ny Hop­kins take on Hitch­cock’s title role. Behold the brief clip above, where­in Hop­kins-as-Hitch­cock explains to young Janet Leigh how, exact­ly, he plans to shoot the show­er scene, as his wife Alma looks ner­vous­ly on.

You’ll notice, in the roles of Janet Leigh and Alma Reville, two more well-respect­ed per­form­ers, Scar­lett Johans­son and Helen Mir­ren. Indeed, the list of actors involved in Hitchock and that of char­ac­ters they play look equal­ly inter­est­ing: A Seri­ous Man star Michael Stuhlbarg as tal­ent agent Lew Wasser­man, Karate Kid Ralph Mac­chio as screen­writer Joseph Ste­fano, Wal­lace Lang­ham as graph­ic artist and title design­er Saul Bass, and Michael Win­cott as real-life ser­i­al killer Ed Gein. In the clip just above, watch Hitch­cock explain to Alma his insis­tence upon self-financ­ing Psy­cho’s pro­duc­tion after get­ting turned down by Para­mount: “Do you remem­ber the fun we had when we start­ed out, all those years ago?” he asks. “We did­n’t have any mon­ey then, did we? We did­n’t have any time, either, but we took risks, do you remem­ber? We exper­i­ment­ed. We invent­ed new ways of mak­ing pic­tures, because we had to. I just want to feel that kind of free­dom again.” Before see­ing exact­ly how he enjoyed that free­dom again when Hitch­cock comes out on Novem­ber 23rd, be sure to revis­it our posts fea­tur­ing Psy­cho’s tan­ta­liz­ing orig­i­nal trail­er, and the film­mak­er’s own rules for watch­ing the movie.

Relat­ed con­tent:

22 Free Hitch­cock Movies Online

Mar­tin Scors­ese Brings “Lost” Hitch­cock Film to Screen in Short Faux Doc­u­men­tary

François Truffaut’s Big Inter­view with Alfred Hitch­cock (Free Audio)

Hitch­cock on Hap­pi­ness

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

How to Operate Your Brain: A User Manual by Timothy Leary (1993)

in Harvard, Philosophy, Psychology | November 16th, 2012

Speak­ing at the Human Be-In in Jan­u­ary 1967, Tim­o­thy Leary uttered the famous phrase bor­rowed from Mar­shall McLuhan, “Turn on, tune in, drop out.” It was short­hand for say­ing exper­i­ment with psy­che­delics and achieve new lev­els of con­scious­ness.

Almost 30 years lat­er, Leary had­n’t lost his mis­sion­ary zeal. In 1993 (and only a few years before his death), the for­mer Har­vard psy­chol­o­gy pro­fes­sor record­ed “a pub­lic ser­vice video” called How to Oper­ate Your Brain. Here, Leary nar­rates an almost epilep­tic seizure-induc­ing video, pro­vid­ing what some con­sid­er “a guid­ed med­i­ta­tion” of sorts. I’d pre­fer to call it an unortho­dox “user man­u­al” that tries to impart Leary’s unique sense of enlight­en­ment:

The aim of human life is to know thy­self. Think for your­self. Ques­tion author­i­ty. Think with your friends. Cre­ate, cre­ate new real­i­ties. Phi­los­o­phy is a team sport. Phi­los­o­phy is the ulti­mate, the ulti­mate aphro­disi­ac plea­sure. Learn­ing how to oper­ate your brain, learn­ing how to oper­ate your mind, learn­ing how to redesign chaos.

As you get deep­er into the med­i­ta­tion, you’ll real­ize one thing. Three decades may have passed since Leary pop­u­lar­ized the catch­phrase of the coun­ter­cul­ture. But he’s still get­ting his ideas from McLuhan. If you fol­low the video (or tran­script) to the end, you’ll dis­cov­er that ones and zeros have basi­cal­ly tak­en the place of LSD. Leary says:

Now we have dig­i­tal com­mu­ni­ca­tion. We can cre­ate our fan­tasies. We can cre­ate our rhythms, design on screen.… Any­one in any cul­ture watch­ing this screen will get the gen­er­al pic­ture. It’s one glob­al vil­lage. It’s one glob­al human spir­it, one glob­al human race. As we link up through screens, linked by elec­trons and pho­tons, we will cre­ate for the first time a glob­al human­i­ty, not sep­a­rat­ed by words or minds or nation­al­i­ties or reli­gious bias­es.

You can find McLuhan med­i­tat­ing on the con­cept of an Elec­tron­ic Glob­al Vil­lage in anoth­er vin­tage clip.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Beyond Tim­o­thy Leary: 2002 Film Revis­its His­to­ry of LSD

This is What Oliv­er Sacks Learned on LSD and Amphet­a­mines

Aldous Huxley’s LSD Death Trip

McLuhan Said “The Medi­um Is The Mes­sage”; Two Pieces Of Media Decode the Famous Phrase

Louis CK Plays Abraham Lincoln, America’s 16th President and (Yes) Stand-Up Comedian Too

in Comedy, History, Television | November 16th, 2012

Abra­ham Lin­coln fret­ted over the tim­ing of eman­ci­pa­tion, Gen­er­al George McClel­lan’s reluc­tance to take deci­sive action, North-South reuni­fi­ca­tion, and his wife’s men­tal insta­bil­i­ty.

Louis CK wor­ries about sex, his kids, and the decline of his flab­by, mid­dle-aged body.

The ten­den­cy to dwell on weighty mat­ters makes CK a fit­ting choice to embody our 16th pres­i­dent  on the small screen. (A dis­tinc­tion shared by such lumi­nar­ies as Lance Hen­rik­sen and Sam Water­ston, though not at the behest of Sat­ur­day Night Live). Movie star Daniel Day-Lewis’ cur­rent­ly run­ning por­tray­al may net him a Best Actor Triple Crown come awards sea­son, but CK’s the one who takes Abe to anoth­er dimen­sion, tai­lor­ing the Great Empan­ci­pa­tor to fit the estab­lished tem­plate of his own crit­i­cal­ly acclaimed sit­com.

His­to­ry comes alive in a whole new way as the stovepipe-hat­ted, pudgi­er-than-nor­mal Lin­coln trudges up from the sub­way, chok­ing down an anony­mous West Vil­lage slice to get him through a set at the Com­e­dy Cel­lar. Abe’s rou­tine on slave own­er­ship has def­i­nite echoes of Louis’ Sea­son One mus­ings on bes­tial­i­ty, a there-but-for-the-grace-of-god-go‑I flir­ta­tion res­cued by pro­fan­i­ty-laced moral out­rage.

No dis­re­spect to Day-Lewis’ First Lady Sal­ly Field, but there’s sim­i­lar fresh­ness to be found in Sat­ur­day Night Live reg­u­lar Aidy Bryant’s inter­pre­ta­tion of Mary Todd Lin­coln. Par­tic­u­lar­ly  when one fac­tors in a Direc­tor’s Cut that restores the pet­ti­coat peel­ing mate­r­i­al cut from the late night broad­cast.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Lynch Teach­es Louis C.K. How to Host The David Let­ter­man Show

How the Great George Car­lin Showed Louis CK the Way to Suc­cess (NSFW)

After a Tour of Slavoj Žižek’s Pad, You’ll Never See Interior Design in the Same Way

in Life, Philosophy | November 15th, 2012

How to react to celebri­ty aca­d­e­m­ic Slavoj Žižek? You could see him as a wild-eyed vision­ary and grow infat­u­at­ed with his pow­er­ful-sound­ing ideas about pow­er, vio­lence, cin­e­ma, psy­cho­analy­sis, and per­ver­sion. Or you could see him as a Pied Piper for delu­sion­al grad­u­ate stu­dents and grow enraged at his per­pet­u­a­tion of fash­ion­able non­sense. But you’d do best, I would argue, to take him sim­ply as a source of enter­tain­ment. How could you do oth­er­wise, watch­ing the above clip from Astra Tay­lor’s doc­u­men­tary Žižek! (pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured on Open Cul­ture here)? In these three min­utes, the sweat­ing Sub­lime Object of Ide­ol­o­gy author gives us a tour of his pad, spend­ing much time and excite­ment on his kitchen repur­posed as a clos­et: clothes and sheets in the cup­boards, socks in the draw­ers. “I am a nar­cis­sist. I keep every­thing,” he pro­nounces, hav­ing moved onto the shelves and shelves of his own work, from the pam­phlets of his “dis­si­dent days” to his lat­est books in Japan­ese trans­la­tion.

But it’s his poster of Josef Stal­in that real­ly draws your atten­tion — just as Žižek meant it to. If he did­n’t, he would­n’t have hung it in his entry­way, mak­ing it the first sight every guest gets of his home. Here he describes it not as a procla­ma­tion of Stal­in­ism, exact­ly, but as — in line with every­thing else he does — a provo­ca­tion. “This is just for peo­ple who come to be shocked and hope­ful­ly to get out,” he explains. “My big wor­ry is not to be ignored, but to be accept­ed. Of course, it’s not that I’m sim­ply a Stal­in­ist. That would be crazy, taste­less, and so on. But obvi­ous­ly there is some­thing in it that it’s not sim­ply a joke. When I say the only change is that the left appro­pri­ates fas­cism and so on, it’s not a cheap joke. The point is to avoid the trap of stan­dard lib­er­al oppo­si­tions: free­dom ver­sus total­i­tar­i­an order, and so on, to reha­bil­i­tate notions of dis­ci­pline, col­lec­tive order, sub­or­di­na­tion, sac­ri­fice, all that. I don’t think this is inher­ent­ly fas­cist.”

via Bib­liok­lept

Relat­ed con­tent:

Žižek!: 2005 Doc­u­men­tary Reveals the “Aca­d­e­m­ic Rock Star” and “Mon­ster” of a Man

Exam­ined Life Drops Aca­d­e­m­ic Celebri­ties Into the Real World (2008)

Der­ri­da: A 2002 Doc­u­men­tary on the Abstract Philoso­pher and the Every­day Man

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Skeptic Michael Shermer Shows You How to Bend Spoons with Your Mind

in Philosophy, Random | November 15th, 2012

Ever want to know how to bend spoons like Uri Geller? There are quite a few ways, appar­ent­ly. But accord­ing to Geller’s arch-neme­sis, skep­tic and magi­cian James Ran­di, “if Geller bends spoons with divine pow­ers, then he’s doing it the hard way.” In the video above, edi­tor-in-chief of Skep­tic mag­a­zine, Michael Sher­mer, shows us how to do it the easy way, and still make it look like mag­ic. While “psy­chics” like Geller have dined out on their sup­posed pow­ers for as long as there have been peo­ple will­ing to pick up the tab, skep­tics like Ran­di and Sher­mer have prob­a­bly been around as long, using log­ic and a healthy dose of dis­be­lief. Randi’s expo­sure of Geller on the John­ny Car­son show is the stuff of leg­end. For a less­er-known debunk­ing, check out the video below from Thames Tele­vi­sion. Geller, like so many self-pro­claimed psy­chics, can be per­sua­sive, but most phe­nom­e­na are bet­ter explained by sci­ence than by mag­i­cal think­ing.

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.