Books
How to Live
By Henry Alford
(Twelve Books)
I am averse to advice books. Don’t tell me How to Live — that’s why I have an autonomic nervous system! But Henry Alford’s book is not some souped-up self-help tome. Instead, it is as its subtitle advertises: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still on This Earth). Of course, our elders may have been created equal, but only some have exceeded their potential and Alford vets them for us. He rules out the crazed, the oft-quoted and the pap-peddlers. He allows the under-represented, the under-appreciated and the truly iconoclastic to share their insights. Phyllis Diller, the queen of self-deprecating comedy, reveals the energy-saving power of deflective positivity. Hyper-critical playwright Edward Albee explains how he can spin contempt into contentment simply by paying attention and remembering the happiest time is “Now. Always.” Granny D — no relation to Heavy — who walked cross-country to rouse apolitical Americans, stokes the public once more by insisting we stop fearing Death or risk losing our lives. Author Harold Bloom, actress Sylvia Miles, aphorist Ashleigh Brilliant, Katrina-survivor Althea Washington and Sandra Tsing Loh’s fodder-figure, Eugene, offer rational and irrational clues for how to get by, pull through and enjoy oneself even if we don’t always “succeed.” Alford intersperses his interviews with his own familial inquisition that raises timely issues and untimely ends in circumstances so dramatic, comedic, heartbreaking and uplifting that for a moment one wonders if he’s made it all up. Alas, the aptly self-defined investigative humorist is honest in recounting his parents’ late-life divorce and his mother’s particular courage and wisdom. So poignant are her experiences, so powerful the lessons to be gleaned from her responses to them, she is almost deserving of a co-author credit. And, she should be proud of her son who has spun her tale and her contemporaries’ stories into that most rare treat, a book that teaches, never preaches; a book that enlightens while always eliciting laughs. Now that’s How to Live.
— Warren Etheredge
Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate: A Trip Through Death, Sex and Spiritual Celebrity in Search of the True Dharma
By Brad Warner
(New World Library)
At the end of the day, Zen Buddhism and punk rock aren’t such strange bedfellows. There is an urgency to both paths, an attempt to capture the intense energy of living in the moment, and then this one, and this one; a singular wish for some kind of liberation through some kind of practice (say, slam dancing or perhaps, zazen). And in Brad Warner, whose first two books, Hardcore Zen and Sit Down and Shut Up, have made him something of an underground pop-culture phenomenon — we are witness to one who straddles the gap (not just as any lowly practioner, either, but as a full-on ordained Zen priest). His balancing act is not always graceful, as he unflinchingly admits in ZWIKDIC — what with his mother’s illness and death, his experiences being yanked around by the Japanese film production company he works for, his crumbling marriage, and his responsibilities as a minor “spiritual celebrity.” But Warner’s personal struggles are most interesting for their universality — he could be any of us. Add to the everydayness of his suffering the crass candidness (read: lotsa cussing) of a punk devotee, mixed with the knowledge and wisdom of a Zen priest, and what results is an entertaining and, in its own way, very moving read.
— Eric Larson
Yeah Dave’s Guide to Livin’ The Moment: Getting to Ecstasy Through Wine, Chocolate and Your iPod Playlist
By Dave Romanelli
(Broadway Books)
yeahdaveyoga.com
Waning are the days of the ascetic yoga master, pictured exclusively in bare feet on the beach at sunset or atop a grassy hill, impossibly distant from the lives most of us live and breath. And no one is doing more to usher out said days than Dave Romanelli — aka Yeah Dave — the founder/teacher of “Yoga + Chocolate” and “Yoga + Wine” workshops, which seek to join the sensory pleasures of a modern, urban lifestyle with the warm and fuzzy feeling that results from doing a perfect downward-facing dog. Yeah Dave’s Guide features more than two dozen ADHD-paced chapters — essays, really — outlining Romanelli’s main point: slow down; pay attention. He doesn’t exclude himself from this mandate either. The book is full of anecdotes of his Crackberry addiction, his indulgence in bad dance moves and a treatise on a heretofore taboo topic: the gassy yogini. Both entertaining and insightful, Yeah Dave’s Guide is as accessible as the yoga workshops upon which he’s made his name.
— EL
Flim
A Powerful Noise
Directed by Tom Capello
90 minutes
apowerfulnoise.org
While we in the U.S. still have our share of fighting to do for the equal treatment of women, we have come a long way from the blatant transgressions and limits to the power of the past. To watch A Powerful Noise — a documentary film backed by philanthropist Shelia C. Johnson, which will premiere on March 5th, International Women’s Day — is to be reminded of the very tangible struggles of women in the developing world. The film features three women: Hanh, Madame Urbain and Nada, all of whom have carved out meaning in their lives from the suffering they have endured. Hanh is a Vietnamese widow committed to educating her country people about HIV and advocating for those living with HIV. Madame Urbain, an educated Malian woman, scours the slums of Mali providing support and spreading the gospel of educating girls. Nada, in Bosnia, is rebuilding community by organizing a mixed-ethnicity women’s agriculture cooperative. These women’s day-to-day struggles and the enormity of the tasks at hand are fiercely hopeful and a refreshing reminder of human resiliency.
— EL
The End of America
Directed by Annie Sundberg & Ricki Stern
Indiepix Films
endofamericamovie.com
Hope seems unavoidable these days. But just because our new President preaches optimism, does that necessitate the nation’s rosy outlook? Rabble-rouser Naomi Wolf, author of The Beauty Myth, wrote The End of America prior to Obama’s election, but likely still harbors the fears that led her to publish her “Letter of Warning to a Young Patriot.” Now, with the assistance of award-winning documentarians Annie Sundberg and Ricki Stern (The Devil Rode in on Horseback; The Trials of Darryl Hunt) the author has transferred her polemic to the big screen. Methodically, she spells out the alarming parallels between the United States under the Bush administration and the rise of the Third Reich, along with other fascist and totalitarian governments. Wolf, in the academic’s sheep-suit, counts down the ten ways by which we can recognize the devolution of our country from democracy to dictatorship, from the creation of unifying scapegoats to the shackling of the press and innocent civilians to the blatant dismissal of Law and Order. (Take that, Sam Waterston!)
The End of America unspools much like An Inconvenient Truth; it is a lecture disguised as a movie. However, Sundberg & Stern are far more capable filmmakers than Davis Guggenheim and manage to weave the occasional interviews and appropriate imagery into the talk without detracting from the messenger or the message. (Thank goodness, Wolf commands her stage.) Truth’s outlook was sunny, in a double-edged manner. The End is nearer to doom, a not-so-soft sell that, ominously, fades to black. Of course, if you believe the hype of Hope, you may assume this is the eve of Change. Or, you might invest in Ambien; it’s going to be a bumpy night.
— WE
Music
Lal Meri
Lal Meri
(Six Degrees)
Anyone who I’ve played this album for has replied with the same sentiment: it’s her voice that draws me in. True, Lal Meri — a Los Angeles-based trio whose name derives from a Sufi folk song — features the dusty, hearty sound of front woman Nancy Kaye, probably better known for her two jazzy records under the name Rosey. The equally relevant backend lays down a global-minded foundation, part in thanks to Carmen Rizzo’s broad understanding of Arabic and Indian musical forms (thanks to his recurring stints with Niyaz), part due to Ireesh Lal’s trip-hopping past. Wherever the three come from, they meet on a beautiful and thoughtful space; these songs are musically rich and yet sweet, subtle and tasteful. There are pop sensibilities (the melodies on “Give Your Light,” the entire landscape of “Sweet Love”), but not without an edge (the tabla-driven “Bad Things,” the light dancehall push of the oud-inflected “Take Me As I Am”). Pooja’s folksy vocal help on “Mausam” brings a bit of devotion to the mix; the sound reminds me of an electronified Sangeeta Bandyopadhyay or Shubda Mudgal. Lal Meri is a refreshing album from three people open to see what their union would bring, and where it will take them. From the sounds of this debut — far.
— Derek Beres
Warsaw Village Band
Infinity
(Barbes)
A number of years ago I walked into the now-defunct world music club, Satalla, and witnessed a spectacle I’d never expected: six twenty-somethings dressed in kortas and Converse, jeans and sunglasses, ripping through Polish village music like their lives depended on it. The dreadlocked violinist was in a trance, while the small gypsy-esque singer looked barely old enough to be carrying the mournful, large sounds arising from her lungs. (Indeed, the style — bialy glos — is used by shepherds to communicate over long distances.) These classically-trained youngsters were looking to redefine their national music; dub bass lines and turntable scratches embrace remixes and inform their sound as much as the dulcimer and hurdy-gurdy. As the violinist, Wojtek Krzak, told me that evening, violins bore him; he needs to feel as though he’s doing something new. On their third album, that newness remains unquestioned. Finding a new home on the Brooklyn-based Barbes Records, Maja Kleszcz’s voice continues to break hearts, as this sextet continues to break borders.
— DB