1. Cotopaxi Bataan Del Dia Fanny Pack. My first clue that 2020 was going to be weird should have been when I coveted my wife’s fanny pack.Was I really giving a second look to the fashion staple of the 80s that I was certain I would never sport around my waist? I was. But let’s face it, when you’re going for a long walk (and there were many of those in 2020) and your pockets can only hold so much, a fanny pack is the perfect accessory for your phone, a bottle of water, and keys. I like to say that my wife, who neither she nor I would label as fashion-forward or clothes-minded, makes roughly three to five style decisions each year. This year she hit the jackpot by looking back at what I thought was a relic of the past, an artifact only to be found in photos of tourists waiting in line at Disney, and gave life to my new favorite old accessory. Thank you, Erin.
2. Red-tailed Hawks. The world was sad this year. At times, March, April and May especially, it seemed like we all had our heads down. I was no exception. What the pandemic took from my calendar it paid back in extra servings of anxiety, worry, and uncertainty. My head was down, too. But on days when I went outside and into nature, I tried to remember to look up, to search the trees - bare and brown in the beginning, but robust and bursting with delicate green leaves by June - and I’d always see a red-tailed hawk patiently perched, effortlessly camouflaged, poised for flight without warning. Sometimes I’d even spot them soaring the skies above the treetops, gliding without so much as a feather flap of their kite-like wings. The hawks, like other animals have shown me at low moments in life, became a mainstay of my time outside in 2020. I watched out for them daily and they were always there, giving me a reason to look up.
3. Schitt’s Creek. In the dark, uncertain first weeks of the coronavirus pandemic, and through the periods of lockdown and quarantine that followed, Schitt’s Creek was my entertainment oasis, my welcomed interruption from the daily infection numbers that news anchors reported from behind their makeshift home offices. Despite being a lifelong Catherine O’Hara fan and walking past oversized show posters plastered to subway station walls for two years, it took decamping to Connecticut for me to invest in watching the lives of Johnny, Moira, David, and Alexis unfold in their adopted and ambiguously-located town of Schitt’s Creek. I started with a binge, speeding through the first two seasons, but by season three I paced myself for fear of landing on the final season too soon. I cried during “Life Is a Cabaret”, and then re-watched some especially hilarious episodes until I reached the inevitable end of the streaming rainbow. In a time of such immense suffering and crippling uncertainty, this show was more than just 20-something minutes of comedy. It was a reason to laugh when there seemingly was none.
Also Check Out: Some of my very favorite Schitt’s Creek episodes include “The Hospies”, “Allez-Vous”, and “Wine and Roses”.
4. Portrait of a Lady on Fire. It’s no surprise that a film about a gay love affair set in a time when there were no words for a same sex romance made it onto this list: it’s a plot line that, for me, never dulls with each unique reincarnation. And while I believe the world needs to see, hear, and read more LGBTQ love stories, “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” surpassed this simple aspiration and rightfully earned its place on this list for an equally simple reason: it’s a quietly beautiful and visually stunning film with dialogue that strikes just the right balance between superfluous and stark. The main characters (Marianne and Heloise) are two 18th century women way ahead of their time by standards of self-actualization and emotional awareness, which was enough to send my “oh this is not going to end well” meter into overdrive. From their first meeting on the shores of a windswept island off the Brittany coast, it’s obvious that whatever spark exists between them will be bright, but brief, exquisite, but tragic, as I suspect many gay romances were in the late 1700s. “Portrait of a Lady On Fire” unfolds slowly at first, using side glances and nuances to reveal Marianne and Heloise to each other in a way that feels secretive and special. We all know how this story will end, but we can’t look away and we hope that love will win hundreds of years before its time.
Also worth checking out: “Becoming”, the Michelle Obama documentary, provided a wonderful portrait of our most dynamic, modern, and interesting First Lady while giving me hope for a return to decency in the White House in 2021.
5. Audm. I like to think that despite the protests, the deepening divides in the U.S., the unprecedented devastation, and the tumult that defined 2020, it was a year of listening. Public health officials, demonstrators, world leaders, and politicians all spoke louder than ever in 2020, and we listened even if we didn’t like what they said. As the COVID-19 fatalities rose and health inequity became increasingly more apparent in our communities, we heard ourselves echoed in the country’s collective conversations about race, health, and injustice. Through the noise of the year, I did a lot of listening via Audm, an app that narrates longform journalism from dozens of sources, including Vanity Fair,The New Republic,The Atlantic, Rolling Stone and many more. Having access to myriad articles and news outlets I would never have the time to sit down and enjoy was one of my first discoveries of the pandemic, and it’s one that I’ll continue to rely on long after these dark days are behind us. Whether it was on long walks, car rides to escape the monotony of home, or just a lazy afternoon outside, Audm made it possible to listen more in a year that was filled with so much noise.
Honorable mention: “The Daily”, the podcast from the New York Times continues to be at the top of my essential must-listen-list. Each episode renews my love for journalism and storytelling.
6. Chili Crisp. Is it called chili crisp or chili crunch? I’ll leave the debate to informed foodies to settle. Either way, this delicious chili-infused oil was a late addition to the 2020 Favorite Things list, but no less deserving of its spot here. Made with crunchy bits of peppercorns, garlic, shallots, and other assorted ingredients depending on your recipe of choice, this condiment is perfect on eggs, toast, sandwiches, vegetables and just about anything else that needs a boost of flavor. So is it crisp or is it crunch? It doesn’t matter. Just eat it.
7. Yellow Lentil Dal. I love spicy food, I crave spicy food, and every few weeks I need to re-expose my taste buds to dishes that either take me to another part of the world or introduce me to a new culinary world while gently knocking my socks off. I knew this about myself before the pandemic, but in the weeks of quarantine, and avoiding take-out, my need for spice intensified. Moving from New York City to Connecticut - not exactly a culinary mecca overflowing with a diversity of ethnic food options – presented another challenge. The solution was found in “Flavorwalla”, a cookbook by Floyd Cardoz, the late Indian-American chef we tragically lost this year. His 344-page book contains recipes for every palate and preference, and a variety of occasions, from cooking for two to special dinner parties. And yes, there are pictures, too. My favorite Flavorwalla dish that I made twice within a two-week span is a Cardoz’s yellow lentil dal. With just 12 simple ingredients, it’s a super quick meal that cooks in one pot and satisfies my need for spice, if only for a few days.
Honorable mention: The cookbook “Alpine Cooking” by Meredith Erickson is also worth checking out for its incredible photography and descriptions of a the cozy mountain towns of Italy, Austria, Switzerland, and France.
8. David’s Ankles. With the help of the Audm app (#5 on this list), I consumed a lot of great journalism this year.The unwieldy and dark life of Doris Duke; the state of genetic testing in Denmark; the conspiracy theory behind Britney Spears’ Instagram posts; a love story told 72 years later; the staying power of Cher and so many morearticles lifted me up, brought me to tears, and left me happy, confused, angry or inspired. But one article took me back in time to 2001 when, as a very young traveler, I stood in front of Michelangelo’s 17-foot statue of Davidand didn’t look away for what could have been hours.Written by Sam Anderson and published by the New York Times, the article goes deep into the long, flawed history of the marble slab that eventually became “the Giant” as David is known in Florence, its three-year journey down the side of an Italian mountain before Michelangelo’s birth, decades of neglect that followed, years surrounding the statue’s plagued creation, and the nearly four troubled centuries that David spent watching Italy evolve around his massive feet while enduring the brutality of mother nature (wind, sun, rain, and pigeon feces) and human nature (desecration, abuse, and dismemberment).Supportingthe art history lesson, Anderson masterfully weaves in the personal narrative of his obsession with David, his compulsion to mimic the sculpture’s perfection in the decades following their first encounter and the hairline cracks that are slowly coursing their way beneath the surface of David’s fragile ankles today – a reminder that nothing, even the most impeccable specimen of human creation – lasts forever.
In a year when boarding an airplane was considered reckless and dangerous,I ping-ponged between Connecticut and New York by car and put my long distance travel dreams aside, save for the brief period in August when an author and his article transported me back in time to my 21-year old self meeting Davidfor the first time.
9. Peloton. In 2014 I added spinning to my annual round-up list, citing that it encompassed a few of my favorite things: sweating profusely, loud music, spandex outfits, and getting yelled at by a live instructor. Six years later, my love for spinning has only grown stronger, as I’ve continued to get it all out on the bike in my tight pants with house music and clever remixes making my legs move faster faster faster with each class. This year, like so many of my fellow riders, I ditched the live studio experience, clipped into the Peloton community from the narrow seat of my own bike, and dug deep to keep the positive vibes pumping. I don’t miss the live classes in the company of others (the pandemic has, perhaps, made me more of an introvert), and I know the Peloton instructors to turn to when I want to be pushed just a little harder.
10. Taste the Nation. Padma Lakshmi: ever heard of her? I, of course, knew her as the host of “Top Chef”, but without ever watching more than 30 seconds of the reality show, she was just another famous person to me. That changed in June when I watched her Hulu show “Taste the Nation.” As an immigrant herself, Padma (we’re on a first name basis now) explores American cuisine by diving deep into the various immigrant groups who shaped what we know today as American food. Part travelogue, but largely a candid and forthright scouring of the untold history of food in this country, the show (and Padma) uncover the origins of burritos, hot dogs, chop suey, pad thai, poke, and more. In a year when I was not traveling anywhere outside of the tri-state area, but dying to see something new, “Taste the Nation” took me across the country, introduced me to new people, provided culinary history lessons, and gave me a new friend in Padma.
So a while ago I decided I wanted to make my own version of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles because I saw a few other designs for an idea like this and thought, “Oh why the hell not?”
The designs are in first drafts (most likely final because I’m not an avid artist and this took too long) and I’m fleshing out their characters. I have yet to think about others like Splinter, April, and Casey, but for now, all I’ve got are the bros plus Venus!
I’ll probably do separate posts explaining each turtle in my version, but for now, have their character sheets!
The Renaissance period is often synonymous with the greats of Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and young Raphael. These master painters poised “imitation” as preeminent beauty, art as poetry—ut pictura poesis—with Michelangelo arguably harnessing the peculiarities of the human spirit most adeptly in his abstract sprawl of figures, elongating their unseen beauty.
A Renaissance essay on Michelangelo by the nineteenth century art critic Walter Horatio Pater investigates the imagination of the master, calling attention to the artist’s wayward loves-at-first-sight and their contradictions with the sculptor’s mantra of la dove io t'amai prima, or,where I loved you before. Pater argues that it is precisely this paradox that comprises harmony: the delight between the sweet and the strange.
Pater repudiated his own time of the Victorian era, acclaiming the decadence of the Renaissance period as the seizing of life, or more aptly in his own words on living:
…to grasp at any exquisite passion… or any stirring of the senses, strange dyes, strange colours, and curious odours, or the work of the artist’s hands, or the face one’s friend.
It is in his words that we can embrace the unnatural grace of the late Renaissance, the period adorned with the Mannerist style of bold outlines, objects at-play with nature, and form with fantastical animal-humans. This unique style of the Renaissance is attributed to Michelangelo’s successors who desperately tried to imitate his alien elegance.
Hidden in the figures of Michelangelo are these languid features, satyrs in repose, where solemnity and “faces charged with dreams” dictate, as described by Pater. Darting poetic thoughts give us a glimpse of the bittersweet temperament of Michelangelo’s genius. He wrote of his torments in the pagan frivolities of endless quarrelling and his anger at the Gods for loving him so that he reached an age of eighty-eight years.
In all of his years, Michelangelo claimed his figures to be common, austere persons, yet his hand rendered an inherent surprise and energy that future imitators would exploit in quirky forest gods and lovely monsters.
Ergo, my first fashion plate is titled “DRAGON EWER Dress,” odd, but not as eccentric as the last two designs; perhaps you can trace the growth of the outlandish creature in each iteration.
Here is a listing of sources from the UWM Special Collections which I have augmented with digital color and outline to emphasize particular details of my inspiration:
2-4) My interpretation and contemporary design of the DRAGON EWER Dress, SNAIL CUP Dress and DAVID TANKARD Dress based on Renaissance period vessels between 1540 to 1590 as published in the Virtuoso Goldsmiths and the Triumph of Mannerism, published by Rizzoli International, in 1976.
5, 6) French Renaissance plates of frieze borders in Rouen prayer books from 1508; and painted enamel work of Limoges under Italian faience between 1520 and 1540 as published in theDas polychrome Ornament: Hundert Tafeln, by P. Neff in 1880.
7) Walter Pater included an image of Michelangelo’s The Holy Family, or, Doni Madonna, at the Uffizi in Florence, Italy in his aethesticism manifesto, The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry, published by the Limited Editions Club, Stamperia Valdonega in 1976.
8) Costume of the early sixteenth century often in velvets (red is common) and embellished with fewels, gold, lace, fur and feathers as illustrated by Belle Northrup in A Short Description of Historic Fashionpublished by the Teachers College at in 1925.
10) A drawing or possible woodcut of indentured lions as published in Thomas Wood Stevens’Book of Words: A Pageant of the Italian Renaissance, published by the Alderbrink Press at the Art Institute Chicago in 1909 for the Antiquarian Society.
La Pietà - Carved from a single block of white Carrara marble it took the 24-year old Michelangelo less than two years to complete (1498-1499).
It is alleged that just days after its installation in St. Peter’s Basilica, Michelangelo inadvertently overheard some visitors’ stray comments that Michelangelo was too young to accomplish a sculpture of such beauty and that the work had been completed by another artist, Cristoforo Solari; outraged, that night, under the cover of darkness and out of pride, Michelangelo snuck back into the Basilica and etched an inscription by candlelight, in Latin, across the Virgin’s sash: “Michael. Agelus. Bonarotus Florent Faciebat” (Michelangelo Buonarroti the Florentine, made this). It is also alleged that, having regretted the outburst of pride, Michelangelo vowed never to sign another work again; the Pietà remained the only work by the artist to ever bear his signature. (source,photo gallery)
