november 1–15, 2024

Books

  • Magdalen Nabb, The Marshall Makes His Report
  • Anna Maria Ortese, Neapolitan Chronicles, translated by 
  • Renee Gladman, To After That (TOAF)
  • Renee Gladman, My Lesbian Novel
  • Henry James, The American
  • Kim Stanley Robinson, The Wild Shore
  • Kim Stanley Robinson, The Gold Coast
  • Kim Stanley Robinson, Pacific Edge

Films

  • J’ai faim, j’ai froid, directed by Chantal Akerman
  • L’oro di Napoli, dir. Vittorio de Sica
  • É stata la mano del Dio (The Hand of God), dir. Paolo Sorrentino
  • One Hour With You, dir. Ernst Lubitsch
  • Rumours, dir. Guy Maddin, Evan Johnson & Galen Johnson
  • Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife, dir. Ernst Lubitsch

Exhibits

  • Museo archeologico nazionale di Napoli
  • Parco Archeologico di Ercolano
  • “Retroscena. Storie di resistenza e dissidenza nella Collezione Della Ragione,” Museo Novecento, Firenze
  • “Oleksandra Horobets: Ho paura di disegnare mia madre,” Museo Novecento, Firenze
  • “Dagli anni ’60 agli inizi del XXI secolo,” Collezione Roberto Casamonti, Firenze

october 16–31, 2025

Books

  • John Wyndham, The Midwich Cuckoos
  • John Wyndham, The Kraken Wakes

I’ve been reading John Wyndham’s books since I noticed that New York Review Books reprinted Chocky; I read Day of the Triffids long, long ago, but I’d never read the others and I wondered if I was missing anything. I won’t say much because I don’t think these are really books for me. The Kraken Wakes seems like the most interesting of these, in part because of the way it’s narrated – the narrator and his wife are basically Nick and Nora from the Thin Man movies if after a lot of cocktails they got a job narrating the end of the world for an ersatz BBC in an imagined 1950s Britain. (I’m not sure it’s actually as entertaining as that makes it sound.) But I found myself stopped in reading by a breackneck paragraph early in the book:

In the course of the next three years we ourselves lost interest almost to vanishing point. Other matters occupied us. There was the birth of our son, William—and his death, eighteen months later. To help Phyllis to get over that I wangled myself a traveling-correspondent series, sold up the house, and for a time we roved.

After this paragraph, the death of their child goes entirely unmentioned, until two hundred pages later just after they’ve witnessed the atrocities attendant upon an alien invasion of Earth:

She stopped suddenly. Her expression changed. “Sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t have gone off the handle like that. I must be tired, or something.” And she took herself off with a decisive air of not wanting to be followed.

The outburst disturbed me badly. I hadn’t seen her in a state anything like that for years. Not since the baby died.

And that’s it! That’s all we hear about this baby, though the narrator and his wife are front and center for the entire novel. (They have no other children; their happy-go-lucky demeanor before and after this is entirely unchanged.) Someone who’s more interested in science fiction than I am should think about this more deeply – why does this baby appear and die so casually? There’s an ongoing macro-catastrophe – rising sea levels threaten humanity – but I find myself caught up in how this personal tragedy appears and then utterly disappears. It’s a gratuitous writerly act – there’s something about this that feels of the present moment.

  • Ardengo Soffici, Simultaneities and Lyric Chemisms, translated by Olivia E. Sears
  • Jeff VanderMeer, Absolution
  • Milo De Angelis, Finite Intuition: Selected Poetry and Prose, trans. Lawrence Venuti
  • Via Roma 398. Palermo, including Documents Relating to the Death of Raymond Roussel by Leonardo Sciascia, edited by Luca Trevisani
  • Giorgio de Chirico, Geometry of Shadows, trans. Stefania Heim

Films

  • Die Austernprinzessin (The Oyster Princess), directed by Ernst Lubitsch
  • Ich möchte kein Mann sein (I Don’t Want to Be a Man), dir. Ernst Lubitsch
  • The Masque of the Red Death, dir. Roger Corman
  • The Fog, dir. John Carpenter
  • Steak, dir. Quentin Dupieux
  • Wrong, dir. Quentin Dupieux
  • Parthenope, dir. Paolo Sorrentino
  • Hello Dankness, dir. Soda Jerk
  • Passione, dir. John Turturro
  • Napoli velata, dir. Ferzan Özpetek

Exhibits

  • Museo Marino Marini, Firenze
  • “Carlo Maria Mariani. Arte oltre il tempo,” Palazzo Pitti, Firenze
  • “Sette opere per la misericordia,” Pio Monte della Misericordia, Napoli
  • Cappello Sansevero, Napoli
  • Museo Darwin-Dohrn, Napoli
  • “Da Caravaggio a Gemito,” Gallerie d’Italia, Napoli
  • “Dan Flavin dalla Collezione Luigi e Peppino Agrati,” Gallerie d’Italia, Napoli

october 1–15, 2024

Books

  • William Sloane, To Walk the Night
  • William Sloane, The Edge of Running Water
  • Anna Kavan, Machines in the Head: Selected Stories
  • Edward Ashton, Mickey7
  • Eugene Lim, Fog and Car
  • John Wyndham, The Chrysalids

Films

  • Francesco, giullare di Dio (The Flowers of St. Francis), directed by Roberto Rossellini
  • Daaaaaalí!, dir. Quentin Dupieux
  • Rubber, dir. Quentin Dupieux
  • Reality, dir. Quentin Dupieux
  • Le deuxième acte (The Second Act),dir. Quentin Dupieux
  • L’Amore, dir. Roberto Rossellini
  • Die Puppe (The Doll), dir. Ernst Lubitsch

Exhibits

  • Biennale Internazionale dell’Antiquariato di Firenze
  • Museo di San Marco, Firenze
  • Chiostro dello Scalzo, Firenze
  • Casa d’arte futurista Depero, Rovereto
  • “Il sogno di Luigi Serafini,” MART, Rovereto
  • “Italo Cremona. Tutto il resto è profonda,” MART, Rovereto
  • “Surrealismi: da de Chirico a Gaetano Pesce,” MART Rovereto
  • “X Premio Fondazione VAF,” MART Rovereto

september 16–30, 2024

Books

  • Magdalen Nabb, The Marshall’s Own Case
  • Felix Denk & Sven von Thülen, Der Klang der Familie: Berlin, Techno and the Fall of the Wall
  • John Steinbeck, Cannery Row
  • John Wyndham, Chocky

Films

  • Die Bergkatze (The Wildcat), directed by Ernst Lubitsch
  • Germania anno zero (Germany Year Zero), dir. Roberto Rossellini
  • Stromboli, terra di dio (Stromboli), dir. Roberto Rossellini
  • Viaggio in Italia (Journey to Italy), dir. Roberto Rossellini

Exhibits

  • “In the Light of Florence,” Pneuma Art Foundation, Firenze

september 1–15, 2024

Books

  • Benjamin Balint, Kafka’s Last Trial: The Case of a Literary Legacy
  • Avram Davidson, The Other Nineteenth Century
  • Magdalen Nabb, The Marshall and the Madwoman

Films

  • Faces, directed by John Cassavetes
  • Street of Crocodiles, dir. Stephen Quay & Timothy Quay
  • This Unnameable Little Broom, dir. Stephen Quay & Timothy Quay
  • The Cabinet of Jan Švankmajer, dir. Stephen Quay & Timothy Quay
  • Rehearsals for Extinct Anatomies, dir. Stephen Quay & Timothy Quay
  • Stille Nacht I: Dramolet, dir. Stephen Quay & Timothy Quay
  • Stille Nacht II: Are We Still Married?, dir. Stephen Quay & Timothy Quay
  • Husbands, dir. John Cassavetes

Exhibits

  • Museo dell’Antico Palazzo dei Vescovi, Pistoia
  • Chiesa San Giovani Fuorcivitas, Pistoia

august 16–31, 2024

Books

  • Jeff VanderMeer, Authority
  • Jeff VanderMeer, Acceptance
  • Carlo Levi, Words Are Stones: Impressions of Sicily, translated by Anthony Shugaar
  • Alan Hollinghurst, The Swimming-Pool Library
  • Andrea Camilleri, Excursion to Tindari, trans. Stephen Sartarelli

Exhibits

  • “Effetto notte: Nuovo realismo americano,” Gallerie Nazionali di Arte Antica, Roma
  • Parco archeologico di Tindari, Tindari
  • Museo Storia Naturale La Specola, Firenze

Films

  • L’Heure d’été (Summer Hours), dir. Olivier Assayas

august 1–15, 2024

Books

  • Marco Vichi, Ghosts of the Past, trans. Stephen Sartarelli & Oonagh Stransky
  • Laney Salisbury & Aly Sujo, Provenance: How a Con Man and a Forger Rewrote the History of Modern Art
  • Jeff VanderMeer, Annihilation

Films

  • Il peccato (Sin), directed by Andrey Konchalovsky
  • Shinjuku Boys, dir. Kim Longinotto & Jano Williams
  • Flux Gourmet, dir. Peter Strickland
  • May December, dir. Todd Haynes
  • Berberian Sound Studio, dir. Peter Strickland
  • Mine vaganti (Loose Cannons), dir. Ferzan Özpetek
  • Salvatore Giuliano, dir. Francesco Rosi

Exhibits

  • Museo Nazionale Romano, Palazzo Massimo, Roma
  • Museo Nazionale Romano, Palazzo Altemps, Roma
  • Museo Nazionale Romano, Terme di Diocleziano, Roma
  • “Teatro: Autori, attori e pubblico nell’antica Roma,” Museo dell’Ara Pacis, Roma
  • “Elisabetta Benassi: Autoritratto al lavoro,” MACRO, Roma
  • “Patrizia Cavalli: Il sospetto del paradiso,” MACRO, Roma
  • “Marcia Hafif: Roma 1961–1969,” MACRO, Roma
  • “Laura Grisi: Cosmogonie,” MACRO, Roma
  • “Retrofuture: Notes for a Collection,” MACRO, Roma
  • “Luigi Serafini: Una casa ontologica,” MACRO, Roma
  • “Rivelazioni: Juliette Minchin & Marta Roberti,” Museo Sant’Orsola, Firenze
  • Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Firenze
  • Basilica si San Lorenzo, Firenze
  • Casa Guidi, Firenze
  • Galleria Pallatina, Palazzo Pitti, Firenze
  • Galleria d’Arte Moderna, Palazzo Pitti, Firenze
  • Casa Vasari, Firenze
  • Museo Horne, Firenze

july 16–31, 2024

Books

  • Percival Everett, Erasure
  • Marco Vichi, Death in Sardinia, translated by Stephen Sartarelli
  • Hisham Matar, A Month in Siena
  • Marco Vichi, Death in the Tuscan Hills, trans. Stephen Sartarelli

Films

  • American Fiction, directed by Cord Jefferson
  • Lazzaro felice (Happy as Lazzaro), dir. Alice Rohrwacher
  • Synecdoche, New York, dir. Charlie Kaufman
  • Hit Man, dir. Richard Linklater
  • The Long Goodbye, dir. Robert Altman
  • Il posto, dir. Ermanno Olmi

Exhibits

  • Casa Martelli, Firenze
  • “Anselm Kiefer: Angeli caduti,” Palazzo Strozzi, Firenze
  • Chiesa di Santa Maria Novella, Firenze
  • “Federico Tiezzi La belva nella giungla,” Museo Novecento, Firenze
  • “Louise Bourgeois: Do Not Abandon Me,” Museo Novecento, Firenze
  • Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Prato
  • “Colorescenze: Artiste, Toscana, Futuro,” Centro per l’arte contemporanea Luigi Pecci, Prato
  • “Yu Ji: Hide Me in Your Belly,” Centro per l’arte contemporanea Luigi Pecci, Prato
  • “Centro Pecci Commissione 2023: Adelaide Cioni,” Centro per l’arte contemporanea Luigi Pecci, Prato
  • “Eccentrica: Le collezioni del Centro Pecci,” Centro per l’arte contemporanea Luigi Pecci, Prato
  • Chiesa di Santa Croce, Firenze
  • Uffizi, Firenze
  • Oratorio della Confraternita di San Martino dei Buonomini, Firenze
  • Badia Fiorentina, Firenze
  • Museo di Antropologia e Etnologia, Firenze
  • Museo e istituto fiorentino di preistoria, Firenze
  • Museo degli innocenti, Firenze
  • Pinacoteca nazionale di Siena, Siena
  • Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena
  • Oratorio di San Bernardino, Siena
  • Museo civico, Siena
  • Collezione di Geologia “Museo Giovanni Capellini,” Bologna
  • Pinacoteca nazionale di Bologna, Bologna
  • Museo di Palazzo Poggi, Bologna
  • Oratorio di Santa Cecilia, Bologna
  • Museo civico archeologico, Bologna
  • Casa Morandi, Bologna
  • Museo Morandi, Bologna
  • “Una ricerca polivalente: Esperienze dal Centro Video Arte di Ferrara,” Museo d’Arte Moderna di Bologna

july 1–15, 2025

Books

  • Michael Swanwick, The Iron Dragon’s Daughter
  • Marco Vichi, Death in Florence, translated by Stephen Sartarelli
  • Marco Vichi, Death in August, trans. Stephen Sartarelli
  • Marco Vichi, Death and the Olive Grove, trans. Stephen Sartarelli
  • Walker Percy, The Second Coming

Exhibits

  • Galleria d’Arte Moderna G. Carandente, Palazzo Collicola, Spoleto
  • “Roberto Fassone: Concerto,” Palazzo Collicola, Spoleto
  • “La nuova debolezza: fotografie dalla Collezione Attolico,” Palazzo Collicola, Spoleto
  • “Chiara Camoni: Inizio fine. Rotondo. Tutte le cose del mondo,” Palazzo Collicola, Spoleto
  • Cenacolo di Ognisanti, Firenze

Films

  • The Bank Dick, directed by Edward Cline
  • Cowboy in Sweden, dir. Torbjörn Axelman
  • Tea with Mussolini, dir. Franco Zeffirelli

a melody from a past life keeps pulling me back

There’s a piece on the Paris Review blog that’s in part a description of a photo of Joseph Cornell’s old house in Queens that appeared here long ago and the comments that have attached themselves to that photo over time. The description given there is an odd misreading:

. . . a series of comments spanning four years, left almost fifteen years ago, on a blog post that featured nothing but an image of the home’s facade. The softness of the blue light and the wholeness of the tree behind the house and the certain weather of its green suggested it was taken from a moving car, windows down, by someone passing the home at the end of a near-perfect end-of-summer day . . .

Some quibbles! The post is clearly dated May 26, 2006, which is more than eighteen years ago now, astonishing in its own right. There are comments starting in 2010 and going up to May 27, 2024, which is a fourteen-year span – maybe the piece was in the works for a while? I don’t know exactly when the photo was taken, but probably the same day it was posted (one could check the EXIF data on the photo, of course), definitely not at the end of summer; it was not taken from a moving car, but by me, standing on the sidewalk, trying to look unobtrusive with a flip-phone that took wildly poor photographs. And I’m not sure why it says that the blog post “featured nothing but an image”; there’s a link to a Metafilter thread with posts from people who knew Cornell, which suggests that the saintly image of Cornell that emerges from Deborah Solomon’s biography isn’t entirely accurate, particularly with respect to his neighbors. Perhaps this is some sort of John D’Agata exercise in using poetic license with your subject material to achieve ecstatic truth?

It is odd to think about that post now: it’s from another time, a year before there were iPhones or there was Google Street View. It’s not entirely before social media, but it was a point at which blogs seemed like they might be an all-purpose tool, a sort of scrapbook for things found. I took that picture while working on a never-finished essay for the Institute for the Future of the Book’s blog; it was going to be about collage as method and the then newly prominent resurgence of scrapbooking, linked together by a walk through Queens, as, at that time, the only scrapbooking store in New York was vaguely near where Joseph Cornell had lived; the final ta-da would be a meta-move about how as bloggers we were all scrapbookers now. Peter Bürger’s Theory of the Avant-Garde fit into this somehow. Maybe Johanna Drucker did too? This was not a very good premise, but it was 2006, so I didn’t look on Google Maps, still very new, to figure out how far it was from the scrapbooking place to Joseph Cornell’s house. Queens is enormous, and Joseph Cornell probably would have had the good sense not to have walked to that scrapbooking store, somewhere in Beechhurst, not far from where Rudolph Valentino once lived – he didn’t nicely fit my schema. It was not, it doesn’t need to be said, a revelatory walk, though by the time I arrived at the scrapbooking store, Peter Bürger in hand, I did have the good sense to realize that whatever highbrow/lowbrow thing I had been imagining wasn’t worth pursuing any further.

Perhaps the photo looks like it was taken from a car because it was taken somewhat surreptitiously, with some amount of shame – at the time, it still seemed strange, maybe antisocial, to be pointing your phone and someone’s house and taking a picture of it. To say nothing, of course, about posting that photograph on the internet! While this house is, of course, of historical interest because it was once Joseph Cornell’s house, it’s now someone’s private house, and they didn’t deserve to have it randomly on the internet. A few years later, of course, Google Street View would erode any idea you might have had about the privacy of your house, and a picture of this particular house becomes trivially easy for anyone, anywhere in the world, to produce. I can’t imagine that this was the first picture of Joseph Cornell’s house on the internet – the address has been published many places, it’s not particularly hard to get to – but it did exist at a particular point in time.

If there’s value in this image, it’s in the way that, over time, it served as a connector, minor though it might have been. A few years later it would have been posted to a social network and almost certainly would have disappeared. (A scrapbook made in 2006 would have a better chance of lasting!) It’s turned out to be surprisingly hard to carry on conversations on the internet over long periods of time, harder than anyone realized in 2006, when websites felt less nebulous than they do now. This blog feels antiquated now, though it still works, and it’s easier to keep paying the hosting fees than to have the mental argument about whether I should shut it down. I wouldn’t argue that these fragments collected achieve anything like a Cornell box, like I might have in 2006; what they are is something different, something still evolving, and it’s hard to tell what that meaning will become given enough time.